Poetry Blogs (2015, sex)

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your electric touch

I lay in your bed, in a state of undress

I wait for you to take off the rest,

My heart beats faster, pulse throbbing with desire,

I'm shy and nervous, my body's on fire,

With passion in my blood,

I see red forget the world,

It all falls away, even the sky the earth,

All that remains is your electric touch,

Soft as a feather a kiss upon my lips,

A kiss upon my sole, awake...

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desireelectric touchpassionsex

That Little Four Letter Word Called Love

In the game of love, the act that should be the last, is now the opening salvo. But, as a man… why am I complaining?

This one is a work in progress. A bit bitter after hearing a fellow poet dismiss men’s romantic verse as “cheesy”, I thought how the shaggers / fuckers call them what you will, win and the decent folk are cast aside in these common times…

Karl Marx said religion was the ...

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datingetiquettefour letter wordlovemoralplenty of fishPOFrelationshipssexsexual revolution

The Possibilities

That day by the tree; with no one within sight; the sun cutting through the leaves and the sound of water close by. The way your hand felt in mine; how your kiss felt on my neck....These are the things that keep me hanging on to the belief that anything is possible; even love and all that comes with it. 

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love makingnaturesex

A LOVERS EMBRACE

To feel her warm and gentle hand

upon your smiling face,

her tender loving caress is like

a sweet and soothing grace.

 

Teasing, as your fingers

trace a tantalizing trek

along her silken stockings

as you tenderly kiss her neck.

 

Gazing into enchanting eyes

so deep with dark desire,

whirling pools of life and lust,

dancing in dangerous fires.

 

A hint o...

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LOVELUSTPASSIONPOEMPOETRYROMANCESEX

SHADES OF SURFING

~~Watching wet suited fella’s a’bobbing
Got to wondering and then some thinking
Why so much sitting, and waiting
Continuous bobbing with legs a’dangling
There goes a wave, what’s wrong with it?
Is he just enjoying a tight suited, comfortable, sit?

Occasionally...  Very occasionally, whilst waiting
Activity will occur, legs and arms wildly thrashing
Damn, missed the crest.  One of the bes...

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HumourSeaSexSurfing

Sex and Cigarettes

The smell of sex and stale cigarettes, Two bodies connected in life and death, Chapped lips meet between the sheets, Lust in our bones, the Reaper in the air. How rare an oxymoron, neither with clothes on, We follow recreation with deadly inhalation, Skin touching skin, lips wrapped around uncertainty, Two separate entities leaned inwards somehow gently, Feeling so alive, ...

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cigarettesdeathlifelovelustmeaningoxymoronreflectionsex

When I lie.

There is me...lying.
Not lying like you say.
Lying on the floor, lying like I say.
Begging, weeping, asking.
You carnival figure, you.
You war hero, you.
You champion, you.
One leg propped upon my stomach.
Where are your gold stamps, your badges, your medals?
The trophy you stand on is all battered.
You have laid me out on the floor, the doormat
Withholding the welcome sign.
You roll m...

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