Best Climaxed Poems
HER
the chains —
roses tied ‘round hands and feet,
apple-scented la forza del destino.
the buds claw down her back,
send shivers down her spine,
her head climaxed —
delicate, her perfumed breath.
the thorns gently nibble at her neck,
the wine it draws,
the tongue collects.
HIM
his waist, she grips
with everlasting rose-hips,
the crystal chalice overflows
with deliciousness.
full blossoms, of golden pressed
like a prisoner’s garb unto his chest.
he heaves so hard, suffocating
beneath this veneer of tremulous beauty.
Together
they beg to be released,
their vines intertwined
and fate interjects
with wounds of perspiring lips
solicited to one another
in a kiss of bon chance.
liberated to master their winded flutes
of cherry parfait served with
whipped cream.
7/2/2019
Contest: Slave to Love
Sponsor: John Hamilton
La forza del destino - The power of fate
Bon chance - Good luck
Cherry Parfait - also a type of rose
A Debutante’s Ball to Remember
In the autumn of my life, oft have I recalled that superb summer night,
when I finally experienced my long-awaited heart’s delight.
Family and close friends were all ready for my entry into society,
to celebrate it with a grand debutante’s ball filled with gaiety.
In a dreamlike state, I felt like a princess with a golden crown,
making my grand entrance wearing a champagne chiffon gown.
With matching gloves, and a pair of satin shoes on my tiny feet,
my auburn hair was adorned with butterflies and posies sweet.
The ballroom was magically transformed with gas lights all aglow,
and a glittering chandelier reflected on a highly polished mahogany floor.
As the orchestra played, my body and soul were enraptured and consumed
by its rendition of Ravel’s enthralling “La Valse” which pervaded the room.
Elegant ladies were all dressed to the nines in exquisite pastel gowns
of winter white, baby blue, powder pink, pale peach and beautiful browns.
In tacit competition to out-best each other, social charms were well-honed,
as they daintily fanned themselves and gossiped animatedly in hushed tones.
Refined gentlemen in their finely-tailored tails navigated the room to mingle,
keeping an eye out for eligible heiresses beautiful, graceful, and single.
Wafts of mild masculine colognes came from discretely dabbed faces and hair;
while the fresh feminine floral scent of French perfumes permeated the air.
Armed with a full dance card, I waltzed the night away with ardent admirers,
curtsying and coquettishly smiling, moving on to more exciting suitors.
My enchanting evening climaxed with Strauss’s “Vienna Waltz” filling the hall.
Oh, what a tale I will have to tell as my granddaughter prepares for her first ball!
11-21-2014
Contest: Your Favourite Old Poem (06-08-2015)
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placement: 1st
Contest: Ballroom Delights (12-16-2014)
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Placement: 2nd
By different lovers I’ve been kept,
some skillful and a few inept.
I always respond, unafraid.
I rather enjoy being played.
A Spaniard picked me up one time.
His classic strumming was sublime.
Notes poured from me like a cascade.
I rather enjoy being played.
That man released me, and soon I
was picked up by a strange punk guy
who stroked me roughly. Though betrayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
My strings broke often from his touch,
yet thrilled was I by his thrum. Such
unique new tunes from me were made.
I rather enjoy being played.
His sister held me awkwardly,
but then she sang so beautifully
it mattered not my sound would fade. . .
I rather enjoy being played.
She and her brother gave me to
some plucking fools without a clue
till an artiste came to my aid.
I rather enjoy being played.
He pressed my frets, this handsome boy.
My stings were vibrating with joy.
I climaxed with his smooth glissade.
I rather enjoy being played.
With him I hope to have remained
in years to come. His love’s unfeigned.
Although I know at times he’s strayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
Wandering barefoot,
whispering sweet sentiments
of haunting pleasures.
A touch that never phased me -
a kiss from her heaven lips.
Tangerine horizons,
appeared like flames in brown eyes.
Lovebirds gazed in awe,
as her lust soaked my passion.
Night rhythms sang to the stars.
We lay until dawn,
adrift in love's melodies,
under moonlight's shroud.
First blink to our morning skies
was wrapped in her angel wings.
A Tanka is a type of short poem, similar to a Haiku, of 8th century Japanese origin which are often written to express self-reflection, love, or gratitude. A suitor would compile a Tanka and send it to a woman the following day after a date. The woman would then reply back in kind. The poems were like short, secret messages expressing gratitude, love, meaning, or desire, and often climaxed in a persuading message.
She stood in front of the mirror, not liking what she sees
He watched from behind the door, seeing what he likes
She turned from side to side; hoping different angles would help her shape
He watched with excited eyes; each new angle shaping his hope
She rubbed lotion all over her body, to keep her young and smooth
His jeans were getting tighter, just begging to be removed
She touched the parts about which he fantasized, slowly closing her eyes
He had to let his growing manhood out, now grown to twice its size
She knew he was there
He knew that she knew
He really didn’t care
She watched as he grew
She made sure that he could see her, though she did not let him in
From the reflection in the mirror she saw him watching her watching him
He wished her hands were his and that his hands were hers
She applied more of the lotion letting out a pleasurable purr
They climaxed apart together; never acknowledging the other one
He went to the guest room shower, having finished what she begun
She stood in front of the mirror, thinking; perhaps it’s not so bad
As long as it does that to him, I guess I can still be glad
Pelvic desires arise when turning manic!
It's an all-powerful ejaculation
(from mania that feels keenly orgasmic)
Pelvis and loins ablaze like fantastic,
and engorged with such climaxed sensation;
Pelvic desires arise when turning manic!
Eros peaks, then runs wild and Jurassic;
and hunts for instant gratification
(from mania that feels keenly orgasmic!)
To burn with unrestrained lust is horrific;
but the red-hot flames of this condition
force coitus to break out when turning manic:
oh! to explode without control like a sex addict,
and copulate with total abandon
(when mania feels so keenly orgasmic!).
So, call it mad, but don't call it poetic:
this disease demands total expression.
These pelvic desires arise when turning manic,
from a mania whose possession is so fiercely orgasmic.
Twas the night before my cousin's
wedding
He reluctantly gave in to the
bachelor party vetting
A burlesque, tawdry strip club was
the setting
Unbeknownst to him, the bridesmaid
was his appetite whetting
With gratuitous lap dance, began
the ribald feting
In drunken stupor, the enamored
groom his fealty forgetting
Released his inhibitions all of his
clingy garments shedding
Strode platform, in sync with
bridesmaids erotic moves duetting
In tantric rhapsody, she released
pheromones his testosterone
subletting
Enraptured with his riposte jaunts,
her matrimonial bond shredding
The enamored bridesmaid with lust
his bare essentials began petting
His betrothed parts to her
dominatrix will indebting
As the groom climaxed, his phallus
got entangled in her fish netting
Two truant souls now writhing;
spent body parts bloodletting
Dislodging their carnal chains, into
frothy night jetting
To hotel that lodged devoted bride;
their remaining passions bedding
Lurid, tawdry tryst not regretting;
but o'er bawdy exhibition sweating
Wedding contest
September 14, 2012
WHAT. THE WORLD NEEDS IS CHRONIC CHANGE, CONCILIATION AND CONVERSATIONS ,CULMINATING IN CLIMAXED COMMUNICATION.
WHAT WE NEED IS OUTSTANDING OBVIOUS OBSERVATION.
WE NEED MORE MEDITATION, MODERATE MEDIATION AND
MAJOR MODERN MONETARY MACHINES.
WE NEED POSITIVE PROLONGED PARTICIPATION.
WHAT WE NEED IS LITERAL LIBERALISM AND A LITTLE LITIGATION
ABOVE ALL WE NEED LOADS OF LOVING LECTURES AND LASTLY,
LOTS OF LOVE.
ONE CRUCIAL CONCERN: ALL NEEDS ARE CHRONICALLY CONSTANT.
A teenager with the expressions of a middle age individual
is the wonder-creating characteristic of its accelerating growth.
Dwelling in a land not presented with natural gifts;
it still beat all odds to be a member of the Asian Tigers
and a competing contributor to its domain’s prosperity.
The birth place to the Toilet theme amusement park
and a camp of makeup obsessed men.
The fourteenth day of every month is set aside in romance’s banquet
except that of the fourth month when mourning becomes love’s pirate.
February is for young men, march, three times for the ladies.
Prides in the globally acknowledged Boryeona Mud Festival
and gives socialization a new countenance in the “hoesik” event,
while new standards in robotic technology is climaxed
as prison guards, patrols, anti-jelly fish squad and teachers
actively exist through exciting artificial intelligence.
A humiliating public ritual in a form of crime reenactment,
personality stereotypes emanating from the different blood groups,
a nationwide superstitious repugnance to the red ink;
very cultured to even create a backlash
on Bill Gates’ presidential handshake;
typify a people coming a long way from a turbulent past.
A territory of very bright and brainy students;
the god of the LG, Hyundai and Samsung among others;
and to the largest church in size and congregants in the world.
It is the well preserved garden where plastic surgery strives
all to show an amazing growth once heavily stunted,
suffering a suppression entertained by the comfort ladies;
somehow causing a perspective towards the rising sun
to be similar to the swastika’s view by the Jews.
Despite the Japanese colonization, soviet meddling and North Korean threats,
it’s still showing mental strength to be the world’s 12th largest trading Nation.
~^~
==========
now, pelter climaxed
coruscating glint annexed
iridal hues burst!
========================
At the core exists his emptiness
Spineless unrest smothers him
All due to nature’s wavering obscurity
And stumped awareness of inherent security
Fear took charge and penetrated his inner skin
Seeped into his veins
Then settled in marrow
And so his depth became shallow
Now hostage to self loathe and pity
He finds no way home in the big city
Far from palms and salt air
He missed the signs that spelled beware
What lies ahead he has to bare
In order for a single soul to care
And for awhile,
the nightmares
Is all,
he can share
As he walks, he looks down
And the pavement becomes his landscape
And in it, he would escape
And wish it would seal his fate
Uuuufffff!!!!
With his journey now at stake
He knows home he can’t remake
And so he daydreams
Vivid images of platanos y yucca
Begin to form his mental palette
He salivates to thoughts of yaniqueque, tamarindo, cereza
Y la sonrisa, de Teresa!!
His world would change if only,
“un poquito”
De coco, zapote, chinola
Hay que rico!!
A Presidente dressed in white,
Ay caray!!
He so misses his mai and his compay
His porch, 4 chairs, and his game table
Hollers of pin tin tin fill the air
oye loco, pasate con ficha!! capicua!!!
Ta trankao!!
He’s elated !!
Chills run down his spine
He’s alive!!!
His skin begins to swell
As he reminisces to the quiver of the guira
Se engranoja, from thoughts of pambiche y mangulina
Uuuuuufffffff!!!!!
He climaxed and found solace
Home was closer than he thought
Home he carried with him
He’d found the secret of shedding light to his serenity
And within, he found
Su dios!!
Su patria!!
Su libertad!!
And saved, his sanity
-Salvador Martinez
I was working out on the elliptical machine in the gym, feeling good and watching
the "Calories Burnt" number climb higher and higher.
Then, I noticed a rather shapely and attractive woman step off of the machine two
rows in front of me. As she turns and faces me, I cannot help but notice that the
nipples on her rather large breasts are erect and pressing against her sweat
soaked, tight t-shirt.
When working out, and at other times as well, I suppose, I sometimes drift off and
just stare into space not really cognizant of what I am looking at while lost in
thought.
I must have been doing this as this young woman started walking towards me on
her way to the drinking fountain.
She stops abruptly in front of me and says, rather curtly, "Why don't you take a
picture?"
Snapping out of my temporary coma, I respond, "I'm sorry - what?"
"You seem to be staring at my breasts," she rudely insinuates.
Now, at times like this, in a confrontational moment, I like to try to immediately get
on the attack and, sometimes, in my panic to do so, I can say the stupidest things.
In this case, I come back with, "Are your nipples pointing at me!?"
"What!?"
"Your nipples. They seem to be pointing at me!"
"I assure you, I cannot control what my nipples do."
"And I," I smugly reply, "Cannot control what my eyes do."
"You could look away," she challenges.
"And you could wear a thicker sports bra or sweatshirt", I respond.
At this she just glares at me with hate in her eyes and steam emitting from her ears.
I stare back with my smug grin, alternating my look between her eyes and her
breast.
So, of course, you know, we made wild passionate love in the equipment room at
the back of the gym.
And, just before we climaxed in a frenzied, naked and sweaty embrace, ...
... I woke up from my nap on the couch.
This is when I got up, changed into my sweatpants and went to the gym for a
workout.
When cold hearted ego insists and persists
with consistent deductive reason
and empirical truths of self-judgement
EcoEarth's warm breath invites
inductively resonant
personal empowering and economic enlightened
experiential truth
of ego/eco-passionate coinvestment.
Most of us Left-brain dominant
overly competitive,
especially with our truer deeper selves,
for not sharing/transacting/communicating/gifting
healthy relationship priorities,
shamelessly commodified
humorously self-domesticated
folks
would feel healthier
and probably wisdom wealthier
to water our Right brain flowers
wilt our Left-brain competitive
overly-climaxed dominant
monoculturing weedpatch.
Try on some different colors
and dialects
and cultures
and paradigms
and shoes
and win/win role plays
and empathetic eyes.
Really,
what could you possibly lose
that you really want,
but don't need?
What might we all gain
if you loosened up that monotheistic deducing-reducing
win/lose competing divine brain v human braun
to catch a more polyculturally beloved inductive
win/win cooperative mind/body train?
What cold hearted ego insists and persists
for colonizing the world
eco's warm-hearth breath invites
for creolizing sacred EarthTribes.
Crystal clear do I see that sunlit glade
Wherein our first act of love was made
Your quick,panting breaths heightened my ardour
As we embraced in our cosy,clinging arbour
When your soft lips melted into mine
As strong and heady as a rich wine.
How lustrous was your ivory skin
As together we did tightly cling,
Your glorious soft globes yielding close to me,
With papillae succulent as ripe cherries.
Your gentle touch and stroke quickening desire
And set alight my whole body full on fire.
Gazing upon your smooth milky white thighs,
Your silkily screened oasis evoking sighs
As your back arched ,legs open wide,
To usher me pressingly inside
Your welcoming moistness eased my entry
To encourage parry and thrust aplenty.
Once I was safely and securely in place,
Around me your legs did lovingly lace
Till we together climaxed with pleasure,
That rich memory now a rare treasure.
That day as we coalesced into one
Our emerald glade sparkled in the sun.
Our hearts racing with frenzied delight,
Our glade bursting forth in birdsong bright.
Lying touching with vigour spent
Its blooms bathing us in their scent.
Drinking in our time of deep bliss,
Nature blessing us with her kiss.
So sweet then was our moment fine
That our whole world tasted divine.
Ere we should forever fall asleep
This loving memory we will keep.
Her crimson lips begged for a kiss
The lost love that she could reminisce. ..
The silver moon had once witnessed the romance
Infinite passion and foreplay at a glance
Her love climaxed
In the glimmering twilight