Best Latex Poems
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get dressed
is not that kind of poem
vote
please favorite me
I am flavor to be
like me
love me
photoshop me
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add ads, subtract ads
multiply wine ads
get more wine
is a long damn add
ok
bought the Mercedes
make love
to words
iPassion
is in
snap snap and chat
latex friendships
hollywood dreams
with amex
I never leave home
there she rests
in the trunk
blood mixed
with that new car smell
everything is modern these days
even my jail cell
inaction speaks louder than words ~ in fact it shouts to heaven above
i don’t seek indoctrination ~ this dude knows what it’s like to feel love
stay in your own comments box ~ i have no agenda nor need a shove
when putting digits inside someone else’s bubble ~ wear a latex glove
Husbands, raise your hands
Keep them up if you love your wife
Keep them up if you colour your wifes hair
Okay, this is for the three of us that are left....
I did my wife a favour
As I do, because I can
I help her when I'm able
Not just because I am a man
I kill bugs when requested
I do the laundry like I should
I clean the bathroom when it's dirty
And by doing so , feel good
Every few weeks I will help her
Hide the grey that she can see
I don't volunteer to do it
But it's cheap to hire me
A salon visit is expensive
Doing hair, and waiting hours
I just slip on my latex hand wear
And I have a bag full of super powers
Yes, I help my wife get couloured
I take the time and do her hair
I also, get it on the tiles
Up the wall and on two chairs
The dog gets covered just a little
The rug, a window and the bed
But, we always buy two packets
So, there's enough to do her head
I have a jacket slightly mottled
It's got a few brown spots, some red
I don't know exactly how it happened
I even got some on our bed
Just call me Mr. Kenneth
In my jumpsuit doing hair
I get it where I think she needs it
And I spray it everywhere
She comes out looking gorgeous
She's always happy with the result
She always looks a little different
Like someone who believes in the occult
If you're a husband who likes money
Save it, colour your wife's hair
Your part only takes ten minutes
You need ten towels, one mask, one chair
It brings us both closer together
My arms look like a leopard skin
All my shirts are slightly spotted
But all those spots, make me look thin
I've got to go now and get cleaned up
The carpets ruined, so's the wood
But, she's happy and we all know that
If the wife is happy....all is good!
iPhone Maniacs
crankshaft tendencies secure a brace of sly meatballs
truth daggers entice the worm girls with petite pastas
creature lilacs uproot themselves for pink dippity-do gels
white nylon ghost legs roam outer space in latex leotards
metacarpal syringes find porous outcries in the gloaming
crankshaft tendencies welcome the tilted exonerations
iPhone maniacs fondle frothing bananas mindlessly now
demon spiders ooze inside the crawlspaces wanting meat
cross-eyed priestesses suck on wax candles in the vestibule
black-robed choirs sing hangover music to the dribbling
rock music annihilations played by stoned dudes in shades
temples and taverns shake as the truth daggers hit earth
now the worm girls are dancing with the iPhone maniacs
Symbiosis
Sitting on that rock
Like a suburban mermaid,
You look like a lost girl
With a long sad story to tell.
So honey, why don’t we
Mosey on over to Wide-track Town,
Where the freeways meet in purgatory;
There are singing hipsters there,
Dressed in the regalia of the deranged,
Sniffing salt through straws,
There are ten thousand latex surfers
Returning from the dead,
Returning from their brief sojourn
In the distant backwaters,
The yellowish green sulfur waters,
That seep into your bare flesh,
And send mad biting impulses
Straight into your seething soul.
Ah, yes! So, how long have you had that…
Pardon me honey, but,
Is that a bruise on your neck?
Or maybe it is the love-bite I recently
Gave you, as we rode in the back seat
Of a lavender blue 72’ Land Yacht,
Spread out fine under a blanket,
As Broten, up front, steered us down the long highway,
Through a lit-up suburbia,
Like a chrome dragon spitting smoke from its butt.
Kissing you, honey, is a meal unto itself.
Like eating electric spit
With a dash of salt!
Now is the time,
Now is the moment to touch you.
If you don’t want me to,
I won’t…
Sitting on that rock,
Just like a seducing mermaid.
So, honey, what exactly is your story?
Why don’t we mosey on over to Wide-track Town?
We can talk incessantly until the stars appear,
We can watch the latex surfers find nirvana,
And I can give your daring thigh,
My thirty-minute love bite.
No one ever talks about it
it hurts
it throbs
uncomfortable
\No one knew what to say
especially when it was no longer all about them
but it was
Who have i been with?
who have you been with!!!?
the tears
pain
throbbing
thief of under
under where?
under there
All my friends were busy
Called mom yesterday we fought
My brother bout fell off the wagon
cause i want to move away if he moves near
and they're all blaming my ex
i know better
psychological torment
Im the ****
Im the whore
I blame myself as i should
serves me right
right?
so who wants a piece of this pie?
drug induced schitsoeffective
mood disorder
mentally ill
diseased
Lover Boy
all for you
Just give me more pills
Two friends left
I don't want to talk to the Angel whose ex stole my password to this site
My ex girlfriend whose room i lit on fire owes me 240 dollars for her drug debt
things are getting better
happy birthday rip off
merry Christmas debt
high and dry
Now Herpe New year
and i wept
again
stronger this time to not go over the reasons to live versus those i should die
and i laid in bed
with no one to hold
so young
people are cruel
I'm the joke dressed in suicide
just make sure you wash your hands
when you clean up after my mess
you might get infected
and then as the songs go sang by the artists
that sing about how my names are songs
I'll be the one responsible for killing all of my friends and myself after all
For the love of latex and lesions
practice safe sex
know your partners well
and remember life aint no merry go round
it can happen to you
it happened to me
and I've only been out of the funny farm
for three years
before that i was clean
before that was high school
and the nightmare i will always remember and equate with the word
DREAM
Ask a swallow why he nests
below the edge where daylight shuns
catching insects sheriffs fail to warn blue
doctrines stones emit the scent between
evisceral guardians thoughts intact
feign judgements eliptical repast upon our
gains as men can see the folly laws oblige your
honor swears red moon's deputy witheld
injustice paints in swooping arcs such grace
joins legions far from rivers flowing seige
kaleidoscope of councils sit both foreign prisms
lakes reflect I've said it twice so shall love be
more begotten fires rampage incessant burning
naught said I who danced in darkness lies
of so called yet named by masters travelled time
police strike fear where unborn truths remain the
quest is real but never seen your eyes are closed
requires the writ belies our rights that beings
swept in neon ads for latex lives beknownst
to none arrested by the thought germander sage
until found essence herbal strength respects the
valiant of thee... tree, barn or cliff set free patterns
winds of destiny abide in spirits eternity make
xylons play majestically forever peace may humble
yawn, the sheriff and the swallow find forever
zeitgeist pond
11/19/14
© james marshall goff
I Am /A Dandelion
I stem out to a beautiful flower dressed in yellow,
with a milky latex that runs in my veins.
Omitting a fragrant perfume of my own.
As the night falls, I close and slumber till sunrise.
Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly,
I’m standing tall with downy white feathery fine hair.
As a gentle cool breeze whispers with a kiss,
I surrender my fruit to fall into its hands.
Swept away and drifts like little propellers with the wind,
like a thief in the night whisking them away over long distances
Out to their lovers as they mate with the rich brown soil.
©By: Eve Roper 5/3/2015
Dandelion late Middle English: from French dent-de-lion, translation of medieval Latin dens leonis ‘lion's tooth’ (because of the jagged shape of the leaves).
Contest : Picture Yourself as a Flower!
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Unsang song
To the body that buried crying souls turbulence is emotional
Womb for a wormhole life is optional,
One night stand for stars die quicker than supernovae and wrapped in
Mummifying sheets .thighs for dear dairy to hold record of men who came for visit.
The same thighs measure a how deep is the cut to the fetus should be.
No tiny hands or feet for lullaby songs.
back door clinics welcome unwanted life for the cost of living give life no meaning.
pillow talks to seek a place under the skin where lust resides,
for what reason should a latex determine the fate of responsibility?
rough talks heat of pleasure where demons dance for the sad tune of reality.
palms rough like surfaces of hard rocks,
tin men walking around with empty chests,
when prides are sold over the counter for a one night stand.
Friday afternoons are used for slaughter,
on the fourth termination, count increases every fortnight,
body heavy with smell of death around the waist like a waste site.
who smells the coffee when waters keep breaking for pleasure?
by:TSHEDISO SEROKI
Dr. Latex Glove
Gave research a real shove
Removed the wrong organ-a kidney
But he discovered one makes enough PP
Unisex sex protection in
Using condoms rubber
Latex covering the *****
During sexual intercourse
Preventing to catch a sexually
Transmitted disease branding
Names of use trojan,lifestyles,
Magnums,ect a water proof
Holding in ejaculated semen
Condoms.
I looked at the room broken bottles blood fragments of clothes.
maybe a tooth from somebody not fast are to drunk to get outta the way of a conversation
turned bad.
The juke box had almost made it threw but it just had to
play that one song that caused it to become a target
for a flying cue ball.
And I herd someone speaking to the toilet I thought maybe
I wasnt that hungry after all.
As to what caused the riot slash the human tornado of fun I cannot say
But in my opinion that jukebox had it coming always playing the wrong songs at the right
time no one likes a smartass.
And that drag queen could sure throw a mean left hook.
While looking fierce and lip sinking to madonna at the same time that my friends take true
talent .
Seems as though the register had went on vacation but they
left the wild turkey and pretzels thank god happy hour was almost apon us.
And theres nothing worse than telling a proffesional drinker as myself
theres no snacks it's like tellinga kid theres no santa claus.
And that big fat guy in the red suit with his little dwarfs
were really just some of momies friends.
I always wondred why santa was so into getting the crap beat outta him
by a woman in a latex outfit calling herself mistress Claus.
Yes coffee always made things better mixed with some of my personal corn whiskey yeah
grandpa may went insane and herd voices from drinking the stuff but at least he always had
someone to talk to.
As I looked at the chaos that was my headquarters memories came to me in a flood the
booth were I met my first wife.
that same booth were i caught her with my best friend and worst enemy and santa i swear
he gets around.
So much for online dating dam you napster.
I should just stick with street walkers and circus people.
And I think after my tweenty first DUI
that it was good i never had a license to start with.
cause i really hate losing anything.
It's a shame about my mind.
So really other than this little get togather turned riot turned
love in turned back to brawl turned into
big kid slumber party.
It was after the jukebox had to put in it's two cents
that it all turned to .
For nothing kills the mood worse than a bad song
at the right time.
Love always Dr Gonzo
Kitten,
Clit-en
Latex mitten
I got told a joke this morning
It really made me smile
So I thought I would share it on poetry soup
But in my own unique poetry style
A lady went to the dentist
She sat in the dentist’s chair
She was feeling really nervous
She wished she wasn’t there
The dentist thought he would put her at ease
As he put on his rubber gloves
He told her a little fictional story
Of a Canadian rubber glove factory
Into vats of latex the employees dip their hands
Big hands, medium hands and small, all the workers think its grand
They peel them off when they are dry
And into labelled boxes the rubber gloves lie
The dentist works on her teeth for a while
The lady doesn’t move or crack a smile
Finally the dentistry work is complete
The old lady arises from her seat
She gets on her coat and pays her bill
There is something on her mind still…..
Do they use male staff to produce condoms in a similar way?
The dentist laughed and said have a nice day
Jan Allison
25th April 2014
What makes the hiking up mountains more striking?
What makes the driving more fun than arriving?
What makes the ocean-ing worth the sun lotioning?
Gear!
Gear makes the biking much more to my liking,
Gear makes the camping way less spirit-damping,
Gear makes the gardening less callous-hardening,
Let's hear it for Gear!
Now softball-leaguing is way more intriguing,
Now boogie boarding is much more rewarding,
Now even jogging feels less like a flogging,
3 cheers for the Gear!
Titanium! Spandex! Aluminum! Latex!
Hi-tech! All-weather! Light as a feather!
No wonder I struggled for many a year -
I had not the wherewithal to buy the gear!