Best Hard And Fast Poems


Premium Member The Fervor of Our Love

dizzy, from my shameless lust 
i paint your mouth with mine.
nipping, brushing faces, 
breathing you like oxygen.

my fingers, my lips, my tongue 
upon your naked back
draw a map to my destination 
via the scenic route no doubt

starving 
for your wet lips. 
make a meal of this

Lost in the carnage of our intimacy.
I move with the fervor of a ravenous beast.
 Your body undulates 
to the movement of my mania. 
Juices glow like the fountain of youth.

I move in and out 
conduct a symphony of pleasure, 
bury my face deep 
in the sweet skin of creation. 

waltz against a canvas dark
pin holes of silver dust.

weightless 
in a friction free atmosphere 
eternal pleasure,
a sweet honeysuckle taste 
a foreplay crescendo. 

 I the ocean,
 tide after tide 
the ebb and flow
a sculptured reef. 

The screams of seagulls in the air, 
rushing waters eternal 
breaking hard and fast 
 the sunken coral.

a multitude of tidal waves
simultaneous explosions 
tight as one we hold
freeze in the heat of our moment.

It must be an hour now 
you are lying at my side. 
your head on my chest.

 I play with your hair 
stroke your flesh
our eyes meet, 
we kiss 
long, hard
passionately...

Premium Member POETRY HERALDS DYNAMICS TO SPACE

‘OH POETIC force, show us, tell us take us to heights unknown,
And leave no stone unturned' ‘ QUOTE BY POET

This April month with destination moon or bust, is celestial,
Four Moon bound people took off in a rocket, 
Planet Earth wishing them a successful,
Exciting space trip, praying no harm touch them, 
Only poetic love should prevail,
And courage and hope with poetic ink be injected
Into this space mission , every poet’s talent thus affected, 
History in the making, 
Poets creating poems that bring together
Words and words become breathtaking thoughts,
That bring about poetic rhymes 
Bless and hold their tether hard and fast,  
throughout eternal and turbulent times,
Something different happened 
This afternoon, rather strange
For I saw no bird, yet A dove’s feather dropped
And then floated out of range,
Was it showing us that eternity is space,
Could it become a global race 
To make Moon or Mars,
Habitable, among the stars.
Greed has moved into space,
Wanting to change its face,
But poetry will always be on greed’s tail,
With every mouth watering detail.
Our four brave astronauts 
Got back this early morn,  with a big splash,
And unbeknown to them surely, a reporters flash!

Premium Member Visions



"Visions"

Poetry must speak to you
you must listen
not to what the mind speaks
but to what the heart delivers

some have the vision 
some do not
this is truth 
sometimes the truth is too hot

you think you are getting close

too close to the other who is touched
you are not for getting that close
to such insanity to be touched
by a poem that holds no rhyme

and so the story goes
life is a never-ending poem 
with no hard and fast rhyme  
the soft valued curves come and go 

there, in that place of listening
time has drawn no hard line 
you will feel 
that you must bargain with reason 

logic in that place
holds no importance
you will feel, and 
you must  listen, 

not to what the mind speaks
but to what the heart delivers  
Poetry must speak to you 
the better part of you must listen

some have the vision 
some do not
there in that place of listening
logic, like the mind, holds no importance


Candide Diderot. ‘24


Red Door

"Red Door"

love opens not 
like a red rose,
it caresses you
slowly,
entices you in 
holds you 
hard and fast, 
like a scarlet poppy 
opium sweet 
inviting, promising 
till death do us part,
the elusive everlasting



L'amour est enfant de Bohême
Il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi
Si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime
Si je t'aime, prends garde à toi !
Si tu ne m’aimes pas
Si tu ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime !
Mais, si je t’aime
Si je t’aime, prends garde à toi !



Euphoric,
intoxicated
as you like it,
as in an Arden dream,
viola tricola potion
dropped softly 
sensuously 
on seductive eyelids
love-in-idleness
that elixir of l'amour, 
Oberon love flies in 
mid-summer,
we dance with romance
in the labyrinth’s garden
like a bird caught in a cage
tamed and entranced



L'amour est un oiseau rebelle
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle
S'il lui convient de refuser
Rien n'y fait, menaces ou prières
L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait :
Et c'est l'autre que je préfère
Il n'a rien dit mais il me plaît
L'amour ! L'amour ! L'amour ! L'amour !



The red door is opened
love flies in, then,
the gate is closed;
in such sumptuous 
sanctuary 
we lay down with love
caught in the dream
‘twould seem, 
forever naked 
exposed to its fatal charm,
holding on tight 
for more, like a drug,
love insatiable 
insatiable love



L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendre
Battit de l'aile et s'envola ...
L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre
Tu ne l'attends plus, il est là !
Tout autour de toi, vite, vite
Il vient, s'en va, puis il revient...
Tu crois le tenir, il t'évite
Tu crois l'éviter, il te tient
L'amour ! L'amour ! L'amour ! L'amour !


We open the door
love flies in, love’s here to stay;

We open the door
love flies away

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

Premium Member A Dank Day

Today is a dank day,
veiled by a sullied sun
cloudy and overcast,
casting shifting shadows:
breezes blow, hard and fast.

Today is a dank day,
as dribbling drops of rain
water a thirsty earth:
nurturing Nature and
hastening its rebirth.

Today is a dank day
turning white into green,
Spring sends sap to the trees
and as their buds unfurl:
the soil starts to unfreeze.

Today is a dank day,
amidst drizzling showers:
yet, it's a sign that Spring
is indeed on Her way:
causing songbirds to sing.

Premium Member Take Nothing For Granted

I deferred the words " I love you"
Until the morrows light.
Words, that from my heart,
I felt impressed upon to say.

For sure, "I love you",
Would have best been said that night.
Still I reserved ownership,
For perhaps some abstinent day.

Instead, from my vast reserve,
Grating words were launched to flight.
Words that once I'd spent,
Could never be recanted.

I had failed miserably,
At living life in the moment.
So, doting on another days sight,
I had taken our time for granted.

The next day's sun, I found,
Rose not for both alike.
Albiet the sky was blue and bright,
My day was overcast.

For from my life,
I allowed to slip, a love untold,
Now I'm forever yoked with regrets might,
Hard and fast.

Regret is felt always when it is too late.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.


Sensual Fantasy

When the rain pours I think of sex 
Under the duvet 
Getting wet 
Starting as a whisper 
Say things to make me weak 
Imagine your breath caressing my neck 
From the erotic words you speak 
Thunderous banging 
Outside the storm begins 
Inside my head imagination springs 
Thoughts of hungry kisses 
Hard and fast, passion ignites 
Tongues like serpents find their way 
Sliding over our bodies delights 
Feelings of indulgence, lets rip 
Skin upon skin, mmmm 
Going deeper entering in 
Ever tighter sensual grip 
Pulling closer then pushing away 
Harder and harder 
The pleasure will pay 
Moans of rapture, loves crescendo 
Incredible to resist 
Just let go 
Intense desire 
Juices flow 
Taken to the point of no return 
Yielded to the craving 
Burning, ecstasy, carnal yearn 
Gasping for air, 
In the heady sensual scent 
Collapse in lustful secretions 
All energy's spent 
The rain is slowing down 
Reality or fantasy 
My head under the eiderdown.

Rain-Desperate Times

Rain-Desperate Times
Days and weeks of rain
has come down hard and fast
desperate times prevail

Premium Member A Walk In Solitude

It had been twenty-seven years since the sisters had seen each other – twenty-seven Christmases and birthdays. Twenty-seven years where hurt sisters refused to be in the same room together. Their mother’s sadness appeared to them as anger and disappointment. She tried to shame them for the first few years, not changing the situation an inch for the good.  They were both set on their path of righteousness, totally unwilling to communicate in any way with the sister they had cut out of their life and their heart.   

As a result, their mother held two Christmases celebrations for twenty-seven years, hinting around, that she wanted them to somehow resolve this and be a family again.  The feud was held onto firmly, grasped hard and fast, poked red and raw for a long time.  It would have probably continued for another twenty-seven years if their mother had not fallen severely ill, dangerously toward death.  The sisterhood they had cherished in childhood, had served them no purpose in adulthood. They had seven children, between them, and none had met their mother’s twin. 

The hospital corridor was deathly quiet when the second daughter stepped inside to walk the corridor that led to her mother, in room 435 North.  Two of her children sat down on chairs, across from grown cousins they had never met, and did not expect to ever know.  No one spoke. Seven grown children, all waiting, wondering what their mothers would do.  The door opened and the twins were together one last time with their mother. The sobbing could be heard in seconds as they fell into each other’s arms, and became sisters again.


The mama smiled
	from glory’s spiritual realm
		daughters feud now gone

Dated:  August 1, 2018	Contest:  For Your Poetry Journal Poetry Contest
Sponsor:  Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings

Premium Member Making a Hillbilly Jacuzzi

We got a bubble machine and rigged it up a bit.
To the cow water trough, it was a really tight fit.
Come on! I urged Bubba, grandma’s nap won’t last.
I knew if she caught us, we’d be whooped hard and fast.

We were giggling so hard, probably due to the beer.
Who brought it over to Grandma’s, it really ain’t clear.
What you mak’n? Asked a young’n, making me mad.
Never mind, I told her. Go away, try to find your dad.

You better not be making no still, came a voice out the window.
It was Grandma, so we all held ourselves real quiet and slow.
We were mak’n a Jacuzzi out of her cow trough with the garden hose.
Whether it came out better than the spaceship, only God knows.

Premium Member I Remember 6th Grade Math

She tried to get my attention a number of times
But It was not possible because
I was a country or two away
Wearing brown leather swashbuckler pants
White billowy blouses, and multi-buckled boots, 
Fighting pirates with Sabers.
I was mighty and terrifying.
Hearing my war cry turned their blood to ice
Which is why I did not have to stab them
All I had to do was wave my sword around 
And scream and they would jump ship
And get eaten by sharks or swim to land
Pride oozed out of me as I heard my battle cry.
Student me replaced pirate queen me hard and fast
When I heard my peers laughing
Apparently the teacher was not amused by a battle cry
In the middle of her boring math lesson
A Pirate Queen serving detention?  
Unfortunately it happens

Premium Member Gossip 2

Gossip 2
Written: by Miracle Man
7/14/2017

Hardly anything unseen can remain hidden for long.
Ravenous appetites for gossip always seek to prolong,

We can never be unchained from things in our past,
To others, in thought, were coupled hard and fast.

Though superficially interred we think them forgotten,
But Satan comes with a spade to unearth the rotten;
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Young Love



She met him when her heart was young,
Fell hard and fast, but it was a feeling unsung.

Time would take her down so many roads,
Where life seemed so hard as darkness explodes.

Breathless prayers led her to stop her mayhem,
Her road turned narrow, but life wouldn’t condemn.

When she met him again, so many years later,
Her heart was improved by love from the Creator.

Together, they shared a journey – memory’s elation,
Promised to write their story of love’s amazing sensation.

As time passed, for them, the story grew more perfect,
Bonded by love growing wild in hearts who know respect.

She met him when her heart needed a friend,
And, he was certainly her feelings greatest godsend.

Although I can’t tell you if and when their story might end,
I know that their love story is one my words will forever defend.

I’m thankful that I know this story, which was grown by my soul,
It is a story built by God’s great gift, love that makes hearts whole!

The Beautiful Game

in the middle of the universe, I stand
fearless goalkeeper, and soccer is the 
heavens, the brew in which we play,

this open turf, these twenty two players
and the thirty thousand serenading us, like 
obedient Godless angels; make us complete,

unlike any other, we drive the battle
hard and fast, dogs of war; unleashed, 
savage and without quarter

then, when the whistle's shrill starts to
count, and men retreat to bathe their pride,
or bask in laurelled-glory, deep inside,

we, a marching, playing, victorious band,
with my comrades, hand in hand,
in the middle of the universe I stand

Above and Beyond

Whenever tears roll down
somebody's face,
and whether it brings joy, reward or pain:
it matters to someone
whose life, somehow, has broken him down,
or has lifted him up through grace;
it matters when one rejoices,
and sees in victory
what his bewildered eyes
couldn't ever have imagined it to be...

He chose  the path to glory
without harboring suspicions,
or being frightened by unseen woes
and hard-and fast rules;  
he made swift choices    
and built up his courage from nothing;
and what his fearless mind couldn't perceive,
wasn't so impossible to dream,
but surely achieved
through grit and indisputable duty...

Whatever that solemn oath
relied on a certain promise, he never lost heart,
because his valor never seemed to lessen a bit;
and he was taken above and beyond his fears
by not foreseeing any disheartening defeat:
confidence had given his untiring feet a steady beat...

It matters to someone to be recognized,
and cherish that moment of gladness:
perhaps the only moment to be remembered
and be locked away in his past;
a brave soldier at his best,
never settling for anything less,
always going above and beyond his expectations,
to honor and safeguard the Country that he loves...

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