Sexy / humorous (tasteless?) rhyming poems

[quietpoet]

Another idea... This write was inspired by... No names or I may be terminated!

A Naughty Poem

She cleans my dishes,
according to my wishes,
she irons my pants,
ignores my rants.

She is my lover,
darkness no cover.
kisses my chest,
maneuvers a breast.

She submits to my lust,
unchains her bust,
plays with my peter,
I give her a liter.

 

[quietpoet]

A naughty poem 2 (the antidote to A naughty poem!)

A naughty poem 2

He kisses my feet
and always tucks my sheet,
he cooks my food,
even loves me when I brood.

He is my lover
darkness no cover,
he massages my leg,
(sometimes make him beg).

He submits to my whims,
licks 'tween my limbs,
He gets hard on command,
and I CAN demand.


Ah, and yes, life is balance!!!

 

[bluerains]

A naughty poem 2

He kisses my feet
and always tucks my sheet,
he cooks my food,
even loves me when I brood.

He is my lover
darkness no cover,
he massages my leg,
(sometimes make him beg).

He submits to my whims,
licks 'tween my limbs,
He gets hard on command,
and I CAN demand.


Ah, and yes, life is balance!!!

ah..guess some little puppy had to beg for attention

 

[CharleyH]

Another idea... This write was inspired by... No names or I may be terminated!

A Naughty Poem

She cleans my dishes,
according to my wishes,
she irons my pants,
ignores my rants.

She is my lover,
darkness no cover.
kisses my chest,
maneuvers a breast.

She submits to my lust,
unchains her bust,
plays with my peter,
I give her a liter.

Rhyme is humour to me, and an S/m relationship is not funny to me. Its a serious thing ,and this poem is not serious.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Rhyme is humour to me, and an S/m relationship is not funny to me. Its a serious thing ,and this poem is not serious.

Oh, shut up. S/m is fun, love is fun, poetry is fun. Funny and serious are definitely not mutually exclusive.

 

[quietpoet]

All in all

loving is great, poetry is great, and this whole world would be a REALLY crappy place without either one!

LOTS OF LOVE!!!
John

 

[bluerains]

ok...

loving is great, poetry is great, and this whole world would be a REALLY crappy place without either one!

LOTS OF LOVE!!!
John

now thats a good little doggie...you can come and play again...

 

[quietpoet]

play again???

now thats a good little doggie...you can come and play again...

And tell me, how are we going to play?


I am ready!!! Is this a public thing or....

 

[CharleyH]

Oh, shut up. S/m is fun, love is fun, poetry is fun. Funny and serious are definitely not mutually exclusive.

LOL LET ME CANE YOU, and we will see the fun

 

[bluerains]

purrr...

And tell me, how are we going to play?


I am ready!!! Is this a public thing or....

I’ll pout in my lair
if I don’t get my way
and I may not wish
to stay unless you
be my prey... meow...

 

[quietpoet]

Cane me, cane me.. I'll be good!!! (Really good)

I think we should all play... Can you bring your cute little froggy? I think she would be inspiring!


They always like to tease,
bring me to my knees,
and when I start to rise
they bring me apple pies.

So if I start to balk,
let's have a little talk,
and when I hit my knees,
can I lick it, please?

 

[bluerains]

seems

I think we should all play... Can you bring your cute little froggy? I think she would be inspiring!


They always like to tease,
bring me to my knees,
and when I start to rise
they bring me apple pies.

So if I start to balk,
let's have a little talk,
and when I hit my knees,
can I lick it, please?

froggys are green and I am so blue
we could mix a color or two

 

[CharleyH]

I think we should all play... Can you bring your cute little froggy? I think she would be inspiring!


They always like to tease,
bring me to my knees,
and when I start to rise
they bring me apple pies.

So if I start to balk,
let's have a little talk,
and when I hit my knees,
can I lick it, please?

I still dont get it love? Well I do ... but ...does rhyme solve anything?

 

[quietpoet]

..... Rhymes love?

I still dont get it love? Well I do ... but ...does rhyme solve anything?

I don't think rhymes solve anything, except that they are a more traditional form of sexy (not necessarily erotic) poetry. I was thinking about limericks specifically. But, it is all about the loving and the fun... isn't it?

John

 

[Remec]

I still dont get it love? Well I do ... but ...does rhyme solve anything?

You may find
that a rhyme
is a kind
of literary dime,
Something to stop
on when needed,
like when pop
words go unheeded.

<g>

 

[Remec]

But, it is all about the loving and the fun... isn't it?

Yeah, man, rhyme those crazy-kooky-sexy little rhymes. It's all about the sound and the feeling.

 

[quietpoet]

Thanks Remec

I love the "literary dime" line. A little sexy write seems to feel at home on Lit...!

 

[quietpoet]

If I am the only one...

I never was very good at these... I think there is a trick to a good limerick.


There once was a guy named Maurice,
whose woody was yearning release
he wanted some action
without an infraction
so solo he went with his piece.

 

[Guest]

I love Limericks

Poetry lacking in taste
To my mind is never a waste
It takes talent to write
If it's witty and tight
and it mustn't be anything chaste.

 

[quietpoet]

love it!

Great limerick! There could be a venue for these. And as you stated...they aren't easy to write.

John

Poetry lacking in taste
To my mind is never a waste
It takes talent to write
If it's witty and tight
and it mustn't be anything chaste.

 

[Guest]

This is about as tasteless as I get - on a good day.

Puke

Meet my good friends ralph and earl.
Take-out pavement pizza or take Hughie for a whirl.
Blowing pretty chunks with a technicolour yawn.
Back-up chip special or colouring the dawn
Recycled brown bag involuntary spill.
Organ recital, or personally feeling ill
Do the Jersey yodel or the liquid laugh.
Heave, hawk, spew, honk, sprout or barf.
Kiss the can or yawn for the hearing impaired
Get a refund on your lunch or decorate your beard.
Call the moose or spew snacks then make a visible burp
Taste lunch twice, drive the porcelain bus with Wyatt Erp
Make an offer to The Porcelain God or psychedelic spit
Whistling beef projectile-style or pop a gastric zit.​

 

[ruminator]

Poetry lacking in taste
To my mind is never a waste
It takes talent to write
If it's witty and tight
and it mustn't be anything chaste.

Ready for rhyme to be rude
Longing for licks to be lewd
Be it clever or crass
to expose a fine ass
It's easy when naturally crude


With hands full, the plea is a ruse
Looking stranded few women refuse
reach for a key to unlock it
find a hole in my pocket
It's worth every smack slap and bruise.

 

[ruminator]

Stirring passion I rarely complain
For sharing all pleasure and pain
In a warning cry shout
Her cane waving about
But it was I who did come with her cane.

 

[Man Ray]

I posted this in response to Tristesse's `Puke` poem when she frst posted said poem so bugger me with a wet kipper but I'm going to post it again!

SPEW!

This is a right silly story about an eventful dinner we had with Mel and Stu,
a very nice couple into swinging, organic veggies, BDSM and home brew.
Mel was sweet, petite, nice pert bum but short sighted, like a Mrs. McGoo,
Stu was a hairy dairy farmer, who liked to milk cows until they went moo!

I went with a pretty girl, a studious, serious arts student named Lindy Lou.
She wore miniskirts and insisted on panties of only one colour…sky blue!
We met on a cruise, I was a passenger and she was part of the kinky crew;
she’d show me her sky blue panties and watch as my cock grew and grew!

We didn’t know that Mel and Stu had fallen out, had a fight, a bit of a do!
So when we turned up at the farm the frostiness came right out of the blue.
He wasn’t speaking to Mel and Mel wasn’t having anything to do with Stu!
From what we could gather the fight had something to do with cow pooh?

Stu arrived home, he was whiffy with the smell of cows milk and cow pooh,
all he could think about was fucking Mel and licking her pussy dry of her dew.
But Mel said, “Stu, until you’ve cleaned your shoes no nooky or a home brew!”
“If I can’t have a shag first then cleaning my shoes is something I will not do!”

With that Stu stormed of to swear at the chickens until the air was quite blue!
Mel was upset, started to cry until she couldn’t see, like I said, a Mrs McGoo.
She picked up the shoes, brushing like a fury until the shoes shone like new.
Unfortunately Mel aka Mrs. McGoo couldn’t see where the cow pooh flew!

As we sat for dinner the atmosphere was better, maybe it was the home brew?
Mel and Stu were all hot tender kisses, sitting so close as if joined with glue!
I sat back and imagined being with Lindy Lou, she bereft of her knickers blue.
I would come up behind her, pull up her skirt, spank her bum and shout “Boo!”

Then Mel went to the kitchen, bringing in the hot, steaming, delicious meat stew.
As we wolfed down the stew with gusto Mel shouted, “No! This can’t be true!”
We looked at her with some concern. “This stew has a strange flavour! Oh, Stu!”
“I was cleaning your dirty shoes and I think some cow pooh has got in the stew!”

As we sat there our stomachs were like bilious volcanoes and then we all blew!
The thought of eating cow pooh caused a simultaneous upchuck of said stew!
Out it flew! Peas, carrots, turnips, pieces of meat and a sprinkling of cow pooh!
You know, it’s a funny thing but the spew looked exactly like the original stew!

 

[echoes_s]

no explanation needed

I shaved for the first time
in five months,
had to trim first
then ran heated water
tingle hot
while steam rises
to encave skin
with sheen
occasional tiny rivlet
spills wetness
down
and soap
glided
nails, skates
on ice, slippery,
sharply raking
inner lips of my labia

how you loved to watch
me pull them,
delighted torment
courses with each thrill

and I close my eyes
head relaxed, hair damp
and coiling
as I imagine
the razor covering here
and my finger twirled circles
smiling inwardly,
I could almost
make myself fart there
but I would never
...on my own.

Just to imagine what
my cunt would feel like
stretched, filled
with silky hardness
slick fire,
hands slapping,
teasing
forceful or tender
divinity of senses
aflame, an expulsive
fibrillation screeching
madness.
God to feel the real thing!