Best Nakedly Poems
**Back smile/smile Back **
With your heads way up your :]ssa[:
You will never accomplish the win
I got shots that will protect me from your rabid ways
After you fell into a non-stop falling disease,
Your movements weakened
Straight from a dried up well,
Every day you frolic in a disorder that causes more brain damage
With progressive mental retardation
You continue to lick the top of your cleft lips
He is the saddest sadist human that ever lived!
So sad he has to live with himself every night
Kissing his young ones Goodnight
In ways I can't even breathe to tell
The way he follows rabbits down the bunny hole
Killing each laughing hare
Wiping smiles, leaning in,
The madness in Alice's Wonderland
Madder and Madder The Hatter
Revealing
Your boldness is nothing more than baldness
A man in a monkey suit
Molesting the minds of his idiotic circle,
Trying to kill the joy, not knowing
We don't care about his false Harvard WAY
I rather stay here dropping out, than pretending
Following his made-up perception, a cropped out waste
His taste, my best copypaste, he jacked on
A stench, they left behind when open mouths laugh
He educates by attacking women better than his own
Silently to the top of his knife, he stalks nakedly
Removing a few poems he plagiarized
His Poorness, brought many to donate to the salvation of his army
Sadness Delivered by the Joy Killing Poet and his little pigs
Cross My heart and hope to die!!!
~SKAT~
There's sadness in falling leaves, but beauty
in the carpet they lay at our feet.
~ by poet
I walked across a trestle bridge cloaked in scarlet leaves
They had whirled and pirouetted as if little ballerinas
dancing in Autumn's wind at the end of their season
How bravely they continued until bowing on the bridge
Not a sound did they make, weaving around each other
Looking on were their bare branches, nakedly chagrinned
Like a gecko, that one changes their colours
speaks in tongues long then short blue
climbing up and down walls clicking
translating the draconians’ poetic profusions
all are night creatures in the absence of light fluctuations
they scurry along the cracks over the white and the black
5 fingers 5 toes, quite quite reptilian,
efficient in the chosen environment, useful,
amusing a muse, then, when the mourning sun rises,
contradictory, scurrilous, misplaced, undeniably ugly,
yet cute
Night creatures, light framed
lone vigils, velvet skinned strict vigilantes
on all fours preying Carthusian monks
nakedly bathed in absinthe chartreuse
through their clicking chants, looking for true
through the glass onion
peeling back layers
shedding skin
on a wall
5 fingers, 5 toes
amusing a muse
Candide Diderot. ‘24
sadeness.
enigma.
The land still held in wint'ry grasp.
Against the chill my breath did rasp.
When for a moment my eyes did see,
A fair maiden dancing nakedly.
Nary a stitch nor thread on her wond'rous shape.
As she beckoned I could naught but gape.
When she spoke her voice was a melody,
Promising things that I only dreamed.
I went to her in bewildered awe,
And this is suddenly what I saw-
White roses tangled in her flaxen tresses,
A thousand poppies at her feet,
Fairies danced in diaphinous dresses,
With sunlight was the scene replete.
On she led o'er field and meadow.
Where she trod the spring would show.
With love and joy my heart did swell,
For this maiden had rescued me from winter's hell.
For hours we laughed and sang and such.
I would gasp and tremble at her every touch.
Not once did I think to inquire her name,
Nor did I ask from whence she came.
We rested at length 'neath a stately oak,
And this I found when I awoke-
Gone was my maiden and the spring she brought,
Frozen were the fields and meadows,
Simply a dream, or so I had thought,
Yet clasped in my hand, a single white rose.
I return each day to this lonely place,
Hoping to glimpse my fair maiden's face.
Low does the sun sink in the winter sky,
When I turn home with a tear in my eye.
For once again she has neglected to show,
And left me this wretched ice and snow.
Yet I musn't believe that she does not care,
Lest I should let my heart despair.
For she will return again one day,
Turning as she goes, December to May.
Carress her spine,
Finger the folds of her pages,
Make love to her letters,
Touch her where she is most fragile,
Make her bindings come undone.
Love her, nakedly.
Love her like your favorite book.
“what inspires you to write
such indiscriminate indiscretions
like that?” he speaks to himself
and thinks
not long
without thinking,
unnaturally he feels,
something, so
he promptly writes
it all down
without a further
doo-diddley-day
there you go
a muse
the muse amused
reads his take on it all
and up her mind goes,
the ride, like a pole
flags, waving
checkered,
black and white,
racing all the way
up and down
down and up
the rollercoaster thrill
of it all
jack was planting seeds
for his bean stalking tour
counting the footsteps
along the imprinting way
she wasn't eating
her curds and whey
you have to be quick
like you know,
nimble
sometimes
she galumphs
naturally
unnaturally
across the page
burlesque,
headlights
turned on, full beam,
delivering the splits
smiling
for laughs,
the laughs,
always splitting the mix
can-can
she thinks,
masked, yet best
in tap dance shoes
nakedly
confronting
fingers tapping
minds pointing
un-a-mused
qué más se puede pedir
Spanish for those untouched
uber tall flaming flamingoes
que puis-je dire
French kissed
all the way
for the les enfants terrible
a - mused
fearlessly venturing
forward
for more
let them go,
the others
waltzing Old Time
away, out the door
'tis better
elemental
she feels
the win-win
can-can
she thinks
and smiles
amused
indiscreetly
not
turning
away
win-win
she smiles
a full-wattage
salute
can-can
She
thinks,
begin
the beguine
indiscreetly
not
turning
away
Candide Diderot. ‘24
It is not how you look,
But how I see you,
With chaste heart and pure eyes,
I solemnize you,
My beloved,
I restraining my fervent blood,
To be recognize not,
I quietly awake,
But you bed yourself in my lines,
As in placid lakes,
Or wave-foam
Earth music
Seas fragrance
In you,
Nakedly clear,
And beautiful to me,
Whether it is your strong hands,
On my breast,
At a primal touch,
Or your ultra thick lips,
Like a musical instrument,
The essentials of your skin,
Color and redolence.
The deep landscape
And meekness of your eyes.
You steal my breathe in a verse,
And I keep writing to you my love.
Copyright©ElenaToledo2009
That one lost their tongue
somewhere along the way
long ago, the sound,
doesn’t come out the same
anymore, so they roll it up
like a carpet containing
a nakedly dead body
of blunt words
like unplucked violins
untuned to how it all
really works
begging to be heard,
and the flowery prose,
purple and bruised
like over-ripe fruit
teeth rottingly sugary sweet,
is now seen
day-in-and-night-out,
struggling with ease
way too much
like madness overgrown,
the dense overgrowth
of language unspoke
hides glittering gems
blushing shamefully
more exquisite than
the now daily averies
all penned in babel
that flow in glass jarring
anticipated patterns
of suffocating
paisley prose,
the simple beauty
in the plainly spoke,
never again
to be seen nor heard,
the mercurial metaphors
birdfeed scattered
to the begging migrations
of petulant bluebirds
naughty nightingales
honey trapping
wet-beaked hummingbirds
all beating hearts
with their wild wind flapping,
tossing sticks and stones
to those tongue thirsty
kiss lapping, lap dancing
love parched, gargling
swallows
Candide Diderot. ‘24
poetically fractured retractions
gnashing night prayers,
scribbling braille,
written sideways
dipped in holy water's resolution,
compromising statements
of disbelief's proclamation
spinning music the color
of nakedly sick psycho, yet
burnished souls keep on ticking
quarter past total trade-offs
in a spoonful of smoky reflections
sans acid's sugar trip,
anointed of rose-reddish
bloody false pretenses
dancing off center phases
in disillusioned
pirouettes of pseudo redemption,
whirling out of control on
staged tapestry's loftiness
surrendered ballet slippers
in blistered half promises,
as twisted metaphors sprightly
tuned out spun anomalies
below birds on a rusty wire tweeting
admissions' cobalt blue hazed execution,
rendered inky alterations' inquisitions
'pon pedaled pink fluff profundity,
exhaling paroxysms' jazzily engaged poesy
in vehemently enraged deliverance,
naught one is ever as they seem
through pigmented film 'neath
figment's imagined looking glass
of ingratiated delusional grandeur
Melodies of Romance
I can imagine sweet memories of melodies of romance as we harmonize
Of magical moments in time of a vibrant view of an aquamarine ocean
As I hear a constant rthymn inviting as a commotion of genteel waves
Touching in glistening like a golden well-trodden sands of silken beaches
When under the stars an oceanic breeze leaves many embraces of palms,
In tune with an all -consuming love in a vigilante evocative sweet motion
Morning thus begins a masterpiece of the earliest of colorful hue of dawn.
As time drifts by evening thus prevails nourishing and electrical psychedelic view
The sparkling glow of a electrical fashionable style of whats inside of you
In moments sweet glory cries the beauties upon this day on crimson sky
Aflame is the lighting of luminous flamboyant along the exuberant seaside
In plain view are precious pearls which are lovingly enveloped round your manly arms
Into the dazzling exotic sands; on the lazy isle that lays nakedly within the warmth on
Your endearing thoughts which slowly fades like a silhouette dancing and swaying
In rhapsodies blatant hypnotic sinuous searching hands in wonton desire as I want you.
Written: 1/24/2015
Theresa
When I was a new seminarian
I had a favorite parish priest mentor
who told me the best way to die
is while having an ******.
I wasn't sure if I could ask
why he was so exclamatory sure
of his nakedly compromising position.
I did not really know him all that well,
although he seemed to be a swell up kind of Father.
Perhaps I looked a bit nervous
because he hastened to reassure me
the reason he is enamored of orgasms,
of peak experiences,
is because they transcend our cognitive dualities
in-between polyamorous Eros
and polytheistic Agape.
Orgasms are ecstatic climatic events,
warm full-bodied memories
of mindbody interdependence,
of holistic cooperative economic enlightenment
and political empowerment within
every organ and cell,
muscle and happy little ego-subsystem
groaning out this profoundly universal Yes!
with both LeftBrain audio-visual ethos compassion
and RightBrain universally uniting
neurosensory climate of eros pleasure.
I didn't know what to say to this bicameral-sexual therapy.
But, if this is an option for how to die,
it does sound like the only ecstatic one I have ever heard.
So I said that.
And then my mentor suggested I go home
and practice
living that same way.
Interesting,
how orgasms struggle through rhapsodic space
while dying struggles against too-fast insufficient time.
Spin, twirl, they swirl
Mesmerized I sit
And watch colours mix,
match.... hopefully
Here is that sock,
it gapes and screams
silenced by the brief
strangled by failed
shirr
It purrs, white one-eyed cat alike
(I sneeze, washing-powder
allergy.)
To fall asleep
so soothingly lulled
to oblivion,
nakedly in wait
for my beloved
belongings.
***
May 23, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Small speckles of wild grass
Looking like tiny green drops
That had fallen to the earth
Were the very first sign
Waving in the breeze
With their feathery tops rippling
They slowly reached for the sun
Growing much taller than myself
Then the dragonflies
Darting about like lost Messerschmitts
Looking for a place to land
Foretold of the coming
As I looked down the long winding path
I saw off in the distance
A slight figure of a woman
Drawing closer and closer
It was you
(And I had missed you so)
With your smiling face
And your arms wildly waving hello
Must be spring
———————————————–
The unusually humid
Hot summer night
Found my hands sliding
Along your warm, moist body
As I watched you
Uncovered
Lying nakedly on the cool sheets
My eyes followed a single drop
Of beaded sweat
Which had leisurely rolled down
Your gentle curves
And magically disappeared
As you awoke to my touch
Smiling
We both followed
The movements of my fingers
Thoroughly searching
For a single drop of water
Lost within the folds
Of your thighs
Must be summer
——————————————
There was not a bird in the sky
They had all fallen
Into the top
Of a large red oak tree
On the northeast side of the meadow
Each one singing
Louder than the next
Until all the leaves shattered
And fell
Must be autumn
—————————————–
A single leaf
On a tree
Unyielding
Is all that remains
As a tribute to summer
While on the ground
Changing patterns with the blowing wind
The dry crinkling sound of leaves
Moves to and fro
As the tree quietly sleeps
Waiting
For the chilly mornings to pass
And the warmth of a spring rain
To say… hello
I sit at my window
Staring down the road
Counting the passing days
Until I see your smiling face
And your arms wildly waving hello
Must be winter
Encoded mind
Camouflage eyes
Nakedly I except you
Invisible kiss
Pinecone at its peak
Everlasting stream
Playful chase
Wild become still
Universal love
Thousand rainfall
The silent call
Of the beautiful heart
Wondrous creation
Beautiful nature
Come a little closer baby, wanna lay you down, rip
off pants, on the ground, you lift my skirt, I lean
in, as you go up my thigh, against the wall,
boy,spread that world boss body,stripe it down
nakedly,Take to a call of duty, calls your
name,surrender your gun-shooter,No need to
talk,just pleasure,and do your thing,Like A real
thug, in A crime of passion should,Drink my
creamy milk, and eat my doughnut hole,No time to
waste, I've been a bad bad girl,so make me
scream n' moan, nigga, Like victim status,Hard n'
stiff,pound me to the teeth,And Rape me please,
time n' time again,I need it now,please I beg of
you,HURRY!!! The popo's are coming, I quickly
cum,as you tightly grip,sweats pouring,pounding
down the door,enforcing it, I gave my all, hope
you enjoyed it......