Best Lust Poems


Premium Member A Tale of Fire and Ice

Part I: Ice

He shines like silver midnight moon -
cool marble statue, this tycoon.
And though he makes the ladies swoon,
of ice he’s hewn; of ice he’s hewn.

He’s poker-faced and can deceive
competitors and can achieve
most anything, but can’t conceive
of Genevieve, of Genevieve.

Like Neptune, distant from the sun -
relationships he chose to shun.
He thought the search for love was done.
He has no one; he has no one.

Now love’s allure has come his way.
What will he do? What will he say?
Will he grab hold, beg love to stay,
or let it stray? Or let it stray?

Part II: Fire

This dragoness disguised in lace -
passion’s flower with angel’s face,
precisely picks the time and place
each dream to chase, each dream to chase.

Like ink the color red, she stains
the hearts of those whose love she drains,
and then she leaves when naught remains
No lust she feigns; no lust she feigns.

And now there’s one who would suffice.
For him alone, she’d sacrifice
her everything, so he of ice
she must entice, she must entice.

So Genevieve now strikes the flame.
Will man of ice his love proclaim?
Beneath her fire and his cold frame,
they’re both the same. They’re both the same.

Poetry Soap

It’s almost time and I must run
to watch/read Poetry Soap for fun.
It comes on every day at this time
and I don’t want to miss a single rhyme.
Some are about a long-lost lover
written by a secret poet undercover.
Some are about jealousy and some about trust
with rhyming lines filled with lust.
Competition is part of their game
with bards and musicians hiding their name.
They covet a prize and praise galore
laid at their feet and virtual door.
But when Poet A falls in love with Poet B
you can bet there’ll be flaming words from Poet C.
Or when Poet D gets Poem of the Day
Poet E will have something to say.
Sometimes it’s fun to read the rhymes of hate
whenever I can’t sleep and stay up late.
Battles of wits,
Poets who have fits,
Some who sing,
Some who sting.
Magical flights to lands of old
written with passion and pens of gold.
But it’s the humble ones I adore
whose words are pure, their egos left at the door.
Each episode an unending story 
with poets and their pets seeking glory.
It’s addicting like dope.
I don’t want to miss today’s episode of Poetry Soap.

By:  Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright:  9/26/2017
“All Rights Reserved”

Premium Member Liquid Heaven

Liquid Heaven

A feast for my womanly inner beast!       
I tease, I please, you have me on my knees
I wring my hands, you oint my head
With your fingers locked in my hair of red
You -I call Master! 
Begging for forgiveness, in a position of love
My words are bashing with one stuttering sound
Moaning & Moaning, 
As you make my head spin like a merry-go-round
Craving for you to unleash a liquid heaven sound

My body speaks and mumbles a language meant for you
A touch of intimacy, that lathers up like liquid glue
Sticky but, yet so compelling
My tongue slips silent beloved words of joy into the air
You play the master of this dark solid room
This dungeon's all I consume
You engage me, to provoke you with everything I got
Yelling, please master don't ever stop!
At this moment, I yearn for excitement
To feel the arousing sensation of your presence
That melts me and chill me with a flow that does not kill
I'm your thinker
Your muse and poet
You are my composer creating liquid tunes
Come here and expresses the hardness of your boldness

I confess to you my love
You are all I'm dreaming of
You drive your hands all over 
Reaching every steamy spot
Encourage me to stimulate your mental needs
You are the master withholding a liquid element
In me, you release fluids that hit like a silent tide
A desire that comes with a full force of the fire inside
I crave for the taste of your lips
Your hands on my hips
Your fingers with a tight sensual grip
I dedicate my heart and my lust
To get lost within every push of your trust
Like a treasure deep underneath the sand
I'm addicted to the feelings of your command
Your hazel eyes are the sunrise
You bring out the obsession,
And my sweet tooth temptation
Like the moon above a misty night
Seducing me in every way in a poetic write
YOU, MY LOVE!!!
Your liquid heaven is the beginning-
-Of my delicious delight!

          by: PD

**A sweet Dedication To My Babe**


Premium Member Secret of the Mortician

The Secret of the Mortician

Dead, but I got eyes
Prepares my body at the morgue
Opens the chest
Drains the blood from its nudity
Admires my body before it decays

After The process of embalming
His hands run all over
I'm still dead
He's satisfied

The next day 
Writes an outstanding obituary 
I sit on display

~SKAT~
© Skat A   Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Shakespeare Could Have Cast You

You had me oblivious to your antics, 
as you hushed me tenderly by the creek 
into your hide and seekable 
soul-surrendering secret relief. 
There, you cottled me into softness 
with a simple chin caress, 
which continued to smooth 
the entire twisting course 
of my delicate remorse. 
My garments shifted 
from their skin, 
slipped into the witnessing wind. 
You convinced me to sin 
so remarkably, so recklessly, 
for one worshipped glide 
of feigned intimacy. 
I bemoan my mixed senses 
behind the curtain of uncertainty. 
Oh, Romeo, if only I'd known you. 
If only I knew that  
your prestigious people-pleasing smile 
was practice for the play. 
That those granny pleasing manners
and Band-Aid banter
would soothe my soul to sleep.
That those jovial jokes 
and caramel coated coaxing 
would lead me quietly to the creek
where your meaty man hands would span 
each inch of my innocence and beyond.  
That your chivalrous, chiseled chest 
and incandescent camper's scent 
would be compressed 
against my gentleness. 
By this indulgence 
I had relinquished your respect 
and you had tossed my trust. 
So dissolved the blending of lust, 
and with it the end of us. 
Your camouflaged fibs 
of forever love
would continue deep 
through the space in my ribs, 
into the closing scene. 
Romeo, so applause-worthy were you 
on your secret stage that 
Shakespeare could have cast you
just as you had cast me.

Premium Member Bastard

"All Children Are Beautiful"

His heart of white,   deep shallow wells,   -yet beautiful
He smirks with a grin,  an ego that won't let me in' -he's beautiful
Bastard of beauty,   running ashes without a name
A face with no claim, a young man pound from shame 
What is his sin,  -he's beautiful!
I want to breathe from his ashes, swim through his veins
I want him to come into my light, like a good man

I sing and tell a tale, "A Bastard through the night"
His eyes I wage a thousand times,  young and poor, I felt saved
Lying down in the arms of my white knight
My hair perfectly caressed,   he came to my light
The furnace burned, the night was fast becoming trite
A lover,  he did it well,   then went back to his wife
A moment of gold,  the ages live,   his son is born
   "He Was Beautiful!"

Another Bastard brought into this world


Premium Member The Sea of Love

Sea of Love

The ebb and flow that comes and goes
      with ocean’s deep emotion shows
   that hearts, like knaves, become her slaves
         beneath the undulating waves.

Excitement grows as hearts expose
      amid the tempting tide’s repose;
   surf’s breaking roar laps on their shore;
         hearts enter through her luring door.

The ocean knows, as passion grows,
      the secrets that they don’t disclose;
   these hearts on fire with wild desire,
         waves pounding as their needs require.

The ebb and flow still comes and goes
      while sea of love, these hearts, depose,
   and lust’s decree will always be 
         a product of this stormy sea.


November 7, 2019

Aphrodite of the Morning Sun

Your honey drips in baths of blue,
with seductive scapes set to woo,
Arousing aroma stimuli arise anew,
A vixen voluptuous Venus to subdue…

Mane of a lioness suave and soft,
provocative perspiration sent aloft…
With erotic eyes that capture oft,
sensuous seclusions within her loft…

With lips that taste like wicked wine,
quixotic quenching of the venom vine…
Bodacious breasts in their combine,
permeable performance will entwine…

The Orbs of passion ambiently attend,
risqué rituals of a burning biting blend...
Carnal kisses upon a salacious suspend,
gravitational goosebumps will ascend.





Nov.09.2019
Goosebumps Poetry
Sponsored by: Delilah Ventura

Placed 3'rd...Plus POTW...Thank You

Premium Member Relieve My Heart of Its Ache

These trembling lips cannot bear to remain mute
when their quivering begins in my deepest root
Surf upon the wave's crest of a stimulating ride,
Enter my secluded orchard upon a flowing tide

Saunter into my arbor and taste my honeyed fruit
Allow each nibble to entice with unbridled pursuit
Warm yourself in the sun as we sensually collide
Ripen with me until temptation is languidly descried

Inhale the fragrance of my skin on fleshly curves 
Embrace the throbbing titillation of tingling nerves
Unshackle your heart, and have it not be denied
Caress every part of me as your fingertips glide

Hold my blossoms as they call to your heartstrings
Drink deeply of my nectar; flit your pinioned wings
Pluck me for your pleasure, with hands that shake
I await your touch; to relieve my heart of its ache
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Thirsty Love

As a young boy
    I watch with interest the small man
   Wolf Hunter - a wise father of the hunt


He begins an old ritual
   coating his knife blade 
   rich animal blood and tallow fat
   freeze

Wolf Hunter adds another blood-tallow layer
   freeze 
   and another – freeze

A frozen tallow-blood knife

Wolf Hunter knowing the wolf
    fixes his knife in ground
    blade up  
    prays and leaves . . .



Grey wolf sniffs air and begins to run
    blood is on the wind  
    he licks, tasting the delicious blood-tallow

He howls into the night and licks faster
   a blood lust building 
   lapping the blade until the sharp edge bites 

Feverishly now, faster and harder 
   Grey wolf licks the blade in the arctic night
   great is his craving for blood

The insatiable blood-thirst 
    now being satisfied by his own warm blood 
    the naked blade biting his tongue
    his carnivorous appetite devouring 




In the pale morning light
    Wolf Hunter finds Grey Wolf
    dead in the snow
    stooping down he picks up his knife

 I stand . . . frozen  – sicken by the sight
    Wolf Hunter looking at me says
    . . .  to be consumed by your own desire
                    is a dangerous and deadly foe 




Years later
    staring at the bottle
    hands shaking -- eyes filled with lust
    a vison: a grey wolf consumed . . . dead
    the howl of the wolf-wind beseeching 

To be consumed by your own desire is a dangerous and deadly foe


                          \_____/>
                          /\      /\









David Meade
12-12-2014

Live Generously

Premium Member Hot Grey Matter

There is nothing hotter than a sexy brain
A one of a kind
The bigger the better

With swagger

Nothing titillates more than stroking genius
Sending ripples through the psyche 
An ignited muse invoking rapture

With inspiration and seduction
Sliding hand in hand dear

When my mind is whet
You penetrate 

I quiver




9,22,17

Premium Member The Whip of Your Selfish Whims

O
the bane
of being so slavishly in love,
to face another bloodless sunrise alone.
Myself, I’m spun in silken strands enthralled                       
yet, still stung by the whip of your selfish whims.
Your fleeting presence flashes like iridescence in light,
an elusive rainbow whose colors escape my grasp.

I pine for possession of one I cannot possess,
my burning being’s bewitched. 
This yoke of yearning pliantly possesses me;
ensnaring me in the exquisite twist
of the fervent temptations you weave -
as your amorous play strums the lusty lure 
of a gossamer thread I wish to follow to your soul,
whilst my purring thirst is captured --  then ignored.

O
the woe
of being caught 
in the frill of desire’s web,
aching for the thrill of arching pleasures,
craving to be melted by our molten fusion, 
longing forever, wanting and waiting breathlessly
for your wanton appetite to ravish me 
always and again.


Susan Ashley 
July 3, 2019


N/A
Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 4
Sponsor: Mark Toney


~ Poem Of The Day ~
   July 5, 2019


~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Slave To Love
Sponsor: John Hamilton

Premium Member The Blaze of Autumn

The Blaze of Autumn.
.
She stood there like womanly Venus
Among the mild autumns
Blaze of rustic blaze of copper and hues of gold
Shards of filtered sunlight 
Shone upon her soft textured silken tresses
And with beguiling eyes so full of beauty and wonder
Filling my heart with warm rapture and sweet delight
.
The whole world suddenly disappeared around me
Transfixed I watched the diamond stars
Twinkle in her smiling shining eyes
And as I melted like ice
I felt butterflies flutter inside
.
My thirst for her sumptuous lips was such
And my loving fingers 
Yearned to softly touch
The warmest blissful breeze
Swept through my soul
As at last she gave herself for me to hold
,
Hungered sugar kisses
Turned into a feast of frenzy
Becoming intoxicated
By loves addictive heady wine
With shallow rapid breath and urgency
As we kissed the hours goodbye
Losing all sense of thought and time
.
Suddenly the sun shone brighter
As the pretty flower bloomed
The bee did linger
Morning dew bathed  the garden
As shooting stars flew across the moon
Two kindred hearts aflame
Upon their honeymoon.
,

Peter Dome©2020.
© Peter Dome  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Silence of My Lust

There was sweat on my brow, 
beads of them as I approached her. 

I was a young man, still green. 

She was a mature woman 
like the long blades grow free 
in the lush of nature. 

My hand in hers 
she took me 
into her warmth.

Nervous, shy 
you could hear 
grass grow 

in the quiet 
of my fear 

in the silence 
of my lust. 

I knew nothing.

As we rolled in the dew of sex 
as I fumbled and groped, 
I 
in some instinctive wisdom 
entrusted myself fully to her. 

She set our bodies in a fluid motion
my virginity now neatly cut. 

We spent days 
as I explored
the fresh sweet air 
of 'us'.

It was then I became a man.

Learned
how you hold a flower
how you manicure the stem 
how you water the soil 
how you delicately hold the petals. 

It was then I became a gardener. 

A gardener
worthy 
to tend a garden 
so vital. 

It was then I learned how to love a woman.


30~12~2014
Armand

Premium Member Philosopher's Stone

Do Not Trust a Word, she says

She speaks of sunken treasures the way no one else does
The map to her heart is drawn by the sun
Her smile of gold ride out the waves
The moon attracted by the prestige of her glowing art
With great pleasure, your heart now sits in a glass case

Her love lavishes making every moment memorable.
This lovely lady cultivates you in every way
Your blood rises to her flirtatious demand,
Her eyes, hypnotize, invade every dream,
Endless lust, pulled by the enigma of dragon dust wind
Falling flowers of forgetfulness, when lost to her spell
She lives, she breathes your ribs in

Words were spoken, now wrapped around your heart
In a game of trust, her kiss hushes your lips
Like a syndrome, you babble and drool ----stepping all over yourself
You are nothing more than a fool in love, 
Trusting and turning every word she says into gold


~I LOVE YOU~

( A Poet Destroyer Collection)
© Skat A   Create an image from this poem.