Best Concupiscent Poems


Premium Member Indian Summer Eyes

Indian summer lies within your autumn hazel eyes,
my velvet bloom vibrant now lost after your killing frost;
love lingers in bereft fingers, I stroke your face in guise,
once lustrous, amaranthine heart lies bleeding in exhaust.

My velvet bloom vibrant now lost after your killing frost,
your chill withered russet my enchanted efflorescence;
once lustrous, amaranthine heart lies bleeding in exhaust,
as you disperse in scarlet moonlighting vaporescence.

Your chill, withered russet my enchanted efflorescence,
blue breath exhaled... my cooling mood still hangs in our mid-air;
as you disperse in scarlet moonlighting vaporescence,
your affair concupiscent more than my bemoan can bear.

Blue... breath exhaled, my cooling mood still hangs in our mid-air,
my harvested heart-ache, my heart-break, my heart-feeling weep~
your affair concupiscent more than my bemoan can bear,
into all my tomorrows tears of my sorrow shall seep.

My harvested heart-ache, my heart-break, my heart-feeling weep,
amaranth once fertile, frost-bitten, fading everyday;
into all my tomorrows, tears of my sorrow shall seep
despite your warmth, light of day and hoarfrost melting display.

Amaranth once fertile, frost-bitten!  Fading everyday,
love lingers in bereft fingers.  I stroke your face in guise;
despite your warmth, light of day and hoarfrost melting display,
Indian summer - lies! - within your autumn hazel eyes.


Susan Ashley
October 8, 2017


~ Third Place~
Contest: Mid October Premiere 
Sponsor: Brian Strand

Premium Member mon cygne noire -

now ...

dance for me …
eyes of polished onyx pierce
me like the keen edge of a scalpel,
deftly wielded ...
the blood of my black
heart flowing in and around you,
warm and welcomed to your
wings and wants ...
the aspiration of our spirits -
charged air between us as still as ruin,
while the world spins outward,
ever a cacophony of color ...
calm coalescence in a
realm of chaos,
airborne and harmonious,
transcendent, if only ephemeral -
if only once ...
I am your vessel, awaiting,
I am your barre,
to stretch and strain upon …
I am the adoration in your hush,
and the dark feathers of your plume ...
I am rapt in awe by
such immaculate and lithe form,
destroyed wholly by the feral,
flawless grace of your
movements ...
I am devoured by the
ferocity and exquisite finish of your
line and flow 'en fouette' ...
it is the anger and
complete abandon in your
expression that at once terrifies me
and slays my sullen spirit -
that brings all that
is demoness to your passion,
and all that is angelic to your erotic ire ...
spellbound by the sway,
I plummet into your soft shadow,
and let your ebon wings
surround my delirium ...
an aphotic interplay of souls, a forbidden
allurement of fierce, fluid figures,
a carnal and concupiscent
'pas-de-deux' of fury -
dance for me ...

now.






~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Contest Number 360" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Obsession" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.

Sleepwalker

Sleepwalker


And in the darkest sweeping wings is held all probable
The night of dreamings; wished embraces of gossamer senses ponder miracles 
And leave their mark; ever in hope....

She is waiting

Pale in naked moon lit sexual stretches
Fanning shadows curve on satins anguished blue
To subtle bronzed drips rusted rivers
Lay about her in ever flowing delta’s of hair

These the coy covers of shoulders demure beneath their lifting expectation
Quintessence supplicant to floating hands; risen
Her slow beat thumps on a sudden heart
The fleur-de-lis arched beseeching the avid prayer of lips

The floorboards creek

And though through empty rooms the sighs may roam
Though forever it seems she has lain alone
There are eyes, by bat wing devised; by the caverns urgent aphrodisia
He has been gathered by the corpuscle of desire, to come to her

And by each and every silent unspent moan of longing
He inscribed this hours, fretful, reflections of her mantle parted
An eternal caress folded; ingress to her concupiscent heart
Mere Luna beams of dreams of loves physique, his love, made love to her

Dawns dissipation breaths

Remembering the warmth before forgotten days; where separated so
Bathes her awash in amber fire; and traces his finger along her spine
To leave her sleeping in those somnambulist foot prints
Looses in the languid illusive of arms, wrapped in suns breaking

Turning to the light he asks for its edifice, hold fast on waking 
Struggle to define by wanting the irrevocable kiss; pressed to her
A taste recited by those gossamer senses ponder miracles
And leave their mark; forever in hope


Please Love, Come Over Here

Vizualize, Scrutunize and Remark-Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Forever Malta


Please love, stay over there, while I stay posed on your chair.
Look at me with those deep brown eyes, as I take off my disguise.
My beauty for you is reserved, I'll show you the passion you deserve.
My tiny cami calls your name, as I wish for you to do the same.

Please love, stay over there, I feel your ecstasy as you sit and stare.
I know you've craved my adoration, while I crave your exploration.
Our concupiscent world of magic, has saved me from a life so tragic.
The desirous nature of our togetherness, has made us so powerless.

Please love, come over here...let's soar freely through our atmosphere.


~Date Written: March 3, 2016~

1st Place Winner

It's What It Is

IT’S WHAT IT IS …
If every day you sleep in church; you may not know God
You are not necessarily spiritual; but you are pious
If you’ve grade 99.9%, you’re not most educated; but you’ve first class
You are what you are, and it’s what it is

When she exhibits temperance, then she is neither lustful nor concupiscent
When she’s apparently courageous, she’s neither hotheaded nor irascible
When she adds reason in action, oh yes she be prudent
She is what she is, and it’s what it is 

Because he drives he is a driver
And in so far as he plays the flute, ‘flutist’ captures him
Because he plays well the inflated round leather, dub him a footballer
For that is what he is, and it’s what it is

Assuming I be easily deceived and very unintelligent; am foolish and simpleton
What if I be a schmuck or schnook, pity me for I am stupid!
Honest description depicts reality; but malevolent eulogies do not
They give either sheer flattery or mere insults; all in all, it is what it is

Yes! You’re good, because you are
You’re bad, just because you really are
Always, words may not express aptly
But come what may, it’s what it is!

Spring

Spring
Concupiscent  foxes tame their offspring
Me thinks this is the first sign of spring.
Bumblebees  bombinate  above-head
As myriad dark clouds evaporate.

Daffodils undulate to the Zephyr
Snowdrops coruscant like Blake’s Faeries
A kaleidoscopic vision of buds and blooms
In our brittle hearts,  making a large room.

Melodic voices of our babes
Joyous and a utopia trace
Nightingales sing a sweet song
Larks perform a pagan dance to the first bloom. 

At last, Mother Earth sheds its dead skin
All creatures; great and small sing spring.


Talk Therapy As Fulcrum To Leverage Psychological Ills

Oh...and hello
to you, some hours past, I
returned from counseling,
(hence this boy yent -
     albeit beastie boy 
     figuratively basking
in fading afterglow)
great kickstarter session,

countless moments ago,
sans treatment plan,
she facilitated emotional airflow
i.e. Stephanie Dodds,
(sat straight as an arrow)
whereat this client purged, avow
hid lee, his psycho
logical reflux backflow

(Matthew Scott Harris) did crow
     as said professionally trained
     medicine woman actively listened,
     (no doubt other male patients
     similar to yours truly entertained
     (alignment with see
     thing hormonal concurrence,
where ego super vies iz

     Id dee hot - hook line, and sinker
     attributed to Sigmund Freud,
     who sired, midwifed, and fathered
     psychoanalytic theories)
sexual kindled fantasies,
viz being bedfellow
this soul, hood doth not bellow,
but keeps mum

     (during my allotted time),
yet willingly shares
with utter strangers
intimate gal olive
hunt ting fantasy,
that doth beshadow
obviously no intent to breach
     such prurient thoughts, bestow

foolscap upon mine noggin,
    and most definitely blow
future appointments
with aesthetically pleasing
(tomb maa cryptic) bowwow
wing hot diggity
dog inner primate, perhaps,
and not surprisingly get brow

beaten, where dire
erect tor of facility
    wilt hell me
"go take a hike to
penile solitary bungalow,"
where all manner of
libidinous desires wanna burrow
(where warren peace

     can thrive hare and now),
     on par with rabbit - burr reader,
which confinement would
not principally peter out
till dawning transgression vetted,
     and avered final cockrow
trumpeted, norte - til last cornrow
reaped, hence unable

to thwart counterblow
permanently, doth nada
different she hate
lustful zeal from eye
dims sum – genital fateful dayglow,
thence high lee 
     grant ting deathblow
to testosterone laden satiety,

     randy proclivity, and
     concupiscent adoration from
combine nation of #endow
ments to ghost of - Grant
yule leases eyebrow
raising candy cane upon fallow

da weeder foreshadow
wing sowing field of poetically
wet dreams plying fecund,
feminine, and fertile ground
godaddy on his gangplow.

Premium Member Dark Wings

Dance for me now ...

Eyes of polished onyx pierce me like the keen edge
          of a scalpel, deftly wielded ...

The blood of my black heart flowing in and around you,
          warm and welcomed to your wings and wants ...

The aspiration of our spirits - air between us as still as ruin,
          while the world spins outward, ever, a cacophony of color ...

Calm coalescence in a realm of chaos, airborne and harmonious,
          sublime, if only ephemeral - if only once ...

I am your vessel, awaiting, I am your barre, to stretch and strain upon,
          I am the adoration in your hush, and the dark feathers of your plume ...

I am rapt in awe by such immaculate and lithe form, destroyed
          wholly by the feral, flawless grace of your movements ...

I am devoured by the ferocity and exquisite finish of
          your line and flow 'en fouette' ...

It is the anger and complete abandon in your expression
          that at once terrifies me and slays my spirit ...

That brings all that is demoness to your passion, and all
          that is angelic to your erotic ire ...

Spellbound by the dance, I plummet into your shadow,
          and let your black wings surround my delirium ...

An aphotic interplay of souls, a forbidden allurement of
          figures, a carnal and concupiscent 'pas de deux' of fury ...

Dance with me ...

Now.






~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Contest Number 360" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Obsession" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.

( N/A'd on 2/28/20 in the "Free Verse On Love" Poetry Contest )

Exaltation

The background was muted and blurred as we dance

For all of our senses are numb save the heart

Vivid to me is your voice and your form only

For your presence swallowed up everything

 

Exaltation and music made our dance move fluid

And in our repeated circulation

We are suddenly caught by a whirl of tenderness

Pricking our hearts with excitement tip needles

 

Your concupiscent hold on my waist

Stirred sunken love granules in my stomach

It rose up and sent red strokes on my cheek

Only to reveal my hidden weakness

 

You just smile by the accidental confession

Yet I see in your eyes a sweet premonition

Flashes about you and I in varied style

Performing sensuous ritual for soul union

 

This is not a steamy dream you see?

To be seize by love is to conquer time

This moment is most precious to me

I won’t trade this to insipid immortality

Glue Bill Whar Ming Dublin Down

Court hiss sea hove The Irish Times,
     this hum mere ruck can bloke
kin esse spy climb mitt till impact
     desiccation ravaging with choke

hold thee aim rilled isle,
     which haint ok key doke
cuz won hoot rook froom sun
     whelps like heretic burned at stoke!
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -   
More to the point (meaning jaw
ken minus **** faux
hackney poetic strung bow
Willy Wonka barely understandable

     twanged and twinged) accent
hen reed how, accomplishment
in garnering alarming
     news-worthy ailment

     while this Unit Aryan ensconced
     within beef hoar tee four comfortably
     numb burred battlement,
here at Highland Manor,

     I pay (if totally tubularly pennies rolled)
     approximately equaling bedazzlement
17,500 viz copper cent,
per month gratuity clement,

sans Grosse and Quade
     associates co-management
offered rental assistance congruent
(predicated on social security disability)

     to occupy one bedroom
     apartment kept air 
     conditioned 60°Fahrenheit
     perfect for concupiscent

     activity, albeit unfortunately marriage
     shot thru with celibacy
     suppressed sexless existence
more difficult to control

     than catching a tiger by the tail,
     hence this damned delinquent dependent
Dickensian dada cooly cruising thru
      cyberspace espying embodiment,

how measurable heating up
     Gaia, i.e. Mother Earth (she) evinces
     no illusory figment, and just by a fluke,
     the spontaneous Google search,

     keyed revealed tumy mine eyes,
     wretched webpage showed
     stark rising temperature gradient
Dublin, Ireland experiencing

     worst drought since
     records began 168 years ago
where Irish Water (utility)
     warned Dublin would run out of water
     in 70 days, a “worst-case scenario”
     necessitating hyper-efficient
protocols immediately inherent.

No Birthday Acknowledgement

No Birthday Acknowledgement...

From thee... eldest daughter,  
who need not brood,
nor does padre whoosh 
to stir loess hood family feud
(hence an attempt merely
to convey melancholic mood).

Profound contrast extant between
your high achieving
life a wonderful hit parade
on the go compared tummy mellow
existence, yes rather staid,
now devoid of any parental
responsibility since years back, ye bade
farewell to yours truly

(perhaps forever), atop a jade
did apex inverse to my nadir paid
with ignoble deeds soul limb lee,
dissimilar to thee,
a young vibrant woman, unafraid
to take life by the (figurative) horns,
owning free choice (linkedin, nsync,
prevalent...) with autonomy swayed

independent lass not succor tubby paid
tummy, nor does this "sir" ask (delayed
by one day) for thee to "FAKE" express
sing nonexistent affection,
this decision...opting to evade
papa, who must accept such choice,
asper his first born, fortunately UNLIKE me
she earned top notch grade

nonetheless, this dada before he gets laid
to rest (actually most likely cremated),
whose ashes tubby scattered across favorite sites,
yourself and Shana Punim played,
which wistful nostalgia plucks heartstrings
rubbing raw thy psyche, who cannot trade
past concupiscent  transgressions (emotionally
turbulent waters I did wade),

and no intent to telephone and invade,
sans audiologically your ear space,
this paternal, essential, and critical need
my psyche weighed, lamented, and encumbered

grief, nonetheless proud,
thee "star student" made
herself whip smart
by dogged academic pursuit
in tandem with ardent biological
bone a fide exemplary filleted
(within chromosomal dom) mignon,
similar, when Semitic forebears

risked frolicking under shade
of night - countless elapsed generations aid
ding random genetic dice throw begetting
Eden Liat, whose irrepressible
atavistic feral guaranteeing immortality obeyed
viz, call of the wild indomitable

animalistic hankering impossible to evade,
these genealogical ancestors actions unknowingly,
unstintingly, and unwittingly
helped forge, craft, and affect every blade
of grass, and yoked, (a chicken and egg thing)
hereditary survival of fittest
present day unchoreographed masquerade.

Upon Espying Aesthetically Pleasing Females

I admit tubby distracted by a modeling
female physique when attempting to write,
an aching agony rips thru this son,
gripping with hard on – tight -
by Dickens constricting sensation,

who orbited the sun LX times
coon sitters himself heterosexual male,
where slumbering testosterone forces unite,
no matter my libido feels
deadened, this despite

the above mentioned
asthma ordinary devoid sexual drive,
when these eyes (brown and myopic) sight
even just a picture
oven an attractive gal fanciful flight

evokes dormant longings
crashing thru concentration
without any invite
sparring dueling animal urge,
I know ain't right

since being married,
and all (witches nothing to celibate)
boot even if aye hapt tubby
dim witted with cerebral blight
prurient predilections, would

nonetheless prevail causing affright,
whereby the photographed lovely lady
dashes out like shuttered image,
though only so few inches in height,
would make a bee line into an

unreachable cubbyhole,
 not totally airtight
just enough breathing room
to await darkening hour of night
than with lightspeed akin to meteorite

off into the farther reaches with a blink quite
invisible this quasi
holographic like pseudo sprite
leaves yours truly in the lurch ignite
ting a supposed sexual propensity gone cold

nay, no can do, cuz 
untethered high as a kite
electrifying animal desire forced to bite
the dust, though thankfully concupiscent pang
ordinarily not the least bit aroused, aye attest

nope, not lascivious provocative
Barenaked Ladies can NOT excite
an older fellow, whose adolescent body
seethed with hormonal secretion,
and any pretty young thang did alight

a stick up between still skinny legs,
hence people watching
(particularly gals), a birthright
even migrant and/or
teenage mutant ninja turtle doth delight

tool hook, but NOT touch
most times an effortless fight,
yet every once in a while atavistic
pulsations, asper call 
of the wild bobwhite

overrides instagramming, snapchatting,
and twittering uber with such might
even erupting sexless interludes of eunuch
or "FAKE" shining knight

chess moonlighting also  as “FAKE” playwright,
hence if perchance a beauty catches me sight
lack of youth in your favor
from my penitent penile plight!

Remiscient of Concupiscient

Concupiscent is from Middle English, from Old French, from Late Latin concupiscentia, from Latin concupiscens, concupiscent-, present participle of concupiscere, inchoative of concupere, to desire strongly : com-, intensive pref.; see com- + cupere, to desire.


Memories come back and are reminiscent,
Of being highly effective and self-sufficient;
Did adapt,
With no mishap,
Also, as well as efficient and concupiscent.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

The Pathos of Dearth

I make a mockery of the chasm
I exult in my sarcastic enthusiasm
The space between us causes
A sweet reunion amidst the pauses
I feel a vicarious, carnal avidity 
Awakening within me a certain lucidity,
An impetus to slake my yearning
To adorn my heart with your returning
Though I know that after I ignite
I will thus extinguish my appetite
I seek such concupiscent opulence
For this room's two occupants 
Though I know this oasis is transitory
It's still such a silken and sumptuous story

The Unprecedented Fall

Years passed, withal you stood ascendant.
Though many were their concupiscent sexual enticements,
Heretofore you remained earnest in unassailable chasteness.
Little did you know that your undoer is ready to strike at you.

At first sight, your heart intermitted;
On hearing her voice, your soul got excited.
At first felt exhaled breath, you veins got scorched.
At first touch, your mind got into nigrification.
Sensationally, you were ready to grant all my thoughts.
Why just a whistle could kill a soldier like you, you could not fathom. 

 After things happened, thence your enchainment emerged.
You turned slave but to the lustfulness.
The sight, breath, flesh, and touch became lords over you.
Without regrets, they pleasantly caress you to go against the Lord’s wills.
Now, whence cometh your redemption?
Voltaire says, “...a man is free the moment he wants to be”.
Only you can free yourself from your self-created incarceration
Set yourself liberated from the captivity of your negativity.

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