Best Penetrative Poems
Look closely, feel the harmless heat
enveloping black-diamond
petals in the glistening
garden of glossy geraniums.
There, sprouts rosemary dreams
from an untouched silhouette,
eager to be seen beyond
her perfumed pigments.
Her universe was sprinkled
with starry streams
of gleaming rays,
as she swayed to symphonic
serenades filled with hazel dust.
They may gawk with greedy
glares as wide as the night sky,
marking her with lecherous
objects that only please
shameless eyes.
She was never
in need of a sixth sense
to understand iron glances
that travel in nefarious packs,
with sugar-burnt hunger
washing all over her
unblistered flesh,
judging her concealer
as a manipulative facade,
seeking uncalled-for affirmations
that she never solicited,
misconceiving her thin lines
of red-river lipstick.
Her summer physique allowed
no consent for invasive intrusion,
yet carnal cravings become
unwelcome toxic trespassers.
Their immoral thoughts
believe shallow words
give them wanderlust wings,
while sinister stars in their sky
label her a soulless mannequin,
objectifying her
cinnamon-glazed skin,
sun-kissed hair,
and pecan-powdered~
caramelized voluptuous flare,
with their vehement
voracious desires.
Swinging penetrative thin blades
of opinions from miles,
oblivious to the fact that
she is the sanguine strength
that strolls in silver silence
across spiky swards,
suppressing the pain her
bones have endured with
every whiskering
whistle they wolfed.
There, if the mauve moon and
crystalline constellations look closely,
they would find versatile
mirrors of meaning
reflecting the times
she parades a smile too
comfortable to wear,
for they have concluded
her bed to be a shrine
of blenders and
overflowing thickened blades,
cursed by the biological
sins of Adam's ancestors.
'Twas like imagery or perhaps deja'vu
air quotations or a hallucination,
naught tangible to the naked eye
but an echoing of whirlwinds,
mere beginning of an expansion
tucked aside noncommittal whispers
reverberating discorporate shadows
on dividers of processing graphics,
rough drafts' emphatic intimation
of intrusively summoned reckonings
referencing old featured impressions,
mid-escape concentrated faculties'
unfocused low-density frequencies,
betwixt susceptibility’s magnifiers
orbiting bout night-crawlers' psyche,
whilst darkly territorial distractions
evolve beyond unforeseen influences,
farthermost assertion's revisionary
assemblages divulging conceals,
structured within framework
unrelentingly penetrative,
drawn-out, long agone
an unreceptive peccadillo
Every man holds two faces, yes two faces
That his persona always carries and displays
The outer one, a facade that is very artificial
The inner represents the original and normal.
The physical is superimposed on the natural
That alternates with circumstances congenial
The real always conceals behind the artificial
And presents the synthetic for public approval.
The face that looks composed, might harbour
A volcano alive with agitating feelings, bitter
And another which looks seemingly disquiet
Might, be revelling in the tranquility of spirit.
Hence it is difficult to judge any human being
By his outward appearances not withstanding
To know the true being behind the impression
It certainly calls for a keen, penetrative vision.
The extensive observation of human attitudes
Has formed the basis of a widely held maxim
That the appearances are certainly deceptive
So never judge any person by his expressions.
Progressive penetrative phenomenon
Pertaining to particular peculiar powers of perception
Psychological prosaic persuasive predictions
Probing probable peripheral presentiment
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Alliteration contest by Barry Stebbings
One stanza of four lines only
© 4th December 2017
Pelted forth, hanging strings of moorland curtains,
Endless rains, tart and stinging nettles,
Drive the icy pitons, needles of frozen spite,
Through the scalp into the mind where it unsettles.
God, I hate this land, this patch of grub and blight,
And lachrymose faces, grimaced at their bitter sups
From cloudy glasses, smeared with last nights lipstick,
The dying dreams of women drown men in their cups.
Ah, but when the heather was young and moisture slick,
She lay with risen hems in gorse and bracken,
Below her lower belly rose the urgent scent
From the penetrative flesh so soon to slacken.
Thrown upon the graceless moors of cold descent,
Whatever garments I once held for her in moistened pockets,
Oh, if I am not to see her again, I might as bloody well
Tear my very eyes out from their sockets.
Love cursed, lust cured.
She tempt me severally,
Misled me countlessly,
She called me to her garment of sin,
as she undressed, i look her innocently,
she longed to be demonic in the sexual sphere,
Tantric starts, ****** prolonged..
my hands caress her clapping buttocks,
her sleepary breasts elate with joy,
underneath massage increase her nipples size,
squirting triggered, she maon aloud for my ********
to deep the hole till i find her depth
Her salty sweat dip my lips,
she glow in glory waiting to be pounded with honour,
She loose, heart beat fast, breath cease,
My hands tickle her nipples gently,
tongue lick beneath her wet hole,
her hands rub my hair,
her legs wide open,
hot tunnel deep, i penetrate deeper,
she give me a good atmosphere,
with variation and tighter sensation,
deep and slow, pull out ass up and down
for a good penetrative action..
After a sweet missionary,
with pleasure and satisfaction,
she wrap her lips and suck me gently,
she tickle my balls and testicle..
She enhanced me as i go over and over
with variations, she adjust perfectly,
submissively, wider, harder i hit her
behind with a fantastic view..
Alas!!
The morning breeze blew my mind
and i realized it was all a fantasy,
fallacy and a sinful imagination..
Deep sleep
seems to be a figment
of my ruminating imagination
Just as my polypathic sex life
seems to be a fading figment
of dark penetrative
and glad light receptive
co-passionate re-imagination
And trauma
feels like a figment
of my Master Knows Best addictive history
limiting legitimately compassionate love
to exclude all my body's wrong
but feels so right
sacred places
Thinking I am a bit queerly curious
about integrity's 1/0 bi-genderal
iconic Taoist co-governance
for health care
CoPassionate pleasures
crowning Light
receiving wealth share,
deep
dark repair
root chakra Power
Dipolar Co-arising
convex-White 1
precessively over
concave-Black Non-0
recessively co-passionate
warmly pleasant
secular bipolarities
with sacred potential
wholarity hilarities
Regenerating ego-1/eco-0 co-empathic mindfulness
appreciating timeless win/win balance
yang-1/yintegral-0 cooperative,
stimulating co-passionate win/win pleasures
Co-invested
since before indigenous wu-wei messages
SunCrowning Light/Earth DarkMoon Powers
Deep wound
whole wombed Black Hole
not-not 0 = +1 panentheistically co-radiant
holonic co-therapeutic
Earth Communication NeuroSystems
Verbally thoughtful passions
and nonverbally felt pleasures
pursuing win/win
CrownVoiced/RootChoiced
co-impassioning grace
Like sacred wind,
a penetrating figment from above
seems to become flirtatious
with deep and wide
creation-bearing seas
yearning seasons
churning pregnantly below
Where troubling sleep
becomes a figment
of deprived
traumatized
self v other
win/lose chronic
degeneration
within
As colored in
between white monotheistic lines
and misbegotten monopolistic lies
Black Hole sacred figments
of timeless wounded blues
lacking courageous deep sensory crews,
curious illuminating clues
searching for compassionate thrival news
As deep sleep
becomes a fleeing figment
of ruminating re-imaginations.
With all due respect using my poetry of pain and suffering to advertise inspirational verses is truly sad glocks caused loss of life there is nothing inspirational about the effects of using an assault weapon truly sad place in American i watched a 9MM penetrative the body of a man while crawling on his belly nothing inspirational about suffering from gun violence in AmericaI believe me it is very misleading to advertise peace inspirational verses hidden behind murder
any delivery kind
seekers great find
Penetrative prodigious plundering pestilential prod of pain
Ambiguous avarice amassing astounding avalanche of ache
Injuriously instigating incessant inconsolable irritation
Nattering numbness needling nerves to nail the heart with fire and fear.
ii
Feathers flocking night
The rocks gnaw the flesh of sight
Icarus groans death
The stake through the tongue
The vice tightens without end
I crumble in skin
What singes the brain
Stranding me in motion scraps -
The hog teeth of pain.
iii
O Christ, your cross spike
My flesh, plundering virtue
From my callousness.
Trembling nail in me
Biting bone breaking blood's vein
Winces through the night
Vinegar or gall
I would drink for ease of pain
And blind fear of death
Yet to die is ease
I seek but grimace away
In sweat and shaking.
The scorching sun sends its penetrative rays,
And the uninvited hunger pangs inveighs,
The belly always being ungrateful,
It forgets the previous favours when idle.
Here comes another hunger, hunger for power,
Many have fallen for its banter,
Always ending up on the wrong side of mantle,
Truncating their stories to a tattle.
There also comes a hunger for success,
It sends the body to incandesce,
Prompting every mortal frame to seek education,
Sometimes I wish you had a button.
They say “a hungry man is an angry man”,
Hunger stretches to its constituents like a clan,
And drags along with it malevolence,
No matter the form, hunger is an uninvited nuisance.
27/02/2017
What would a womb swell
And things suddenly cease to be well…
A life whose mother didn‘t guess
Would her tummy access:
The very last thing by her expected
And certainly the unlikeliest to be respected.
From carelessly monitored fun with crafty men,
Usually two or three guys or a reckless ten,
The Luckless One reminded of her romantic escapades
At some self-deceiving hour,
More hurting than adventurous raids
Turned badly sour…
To every woman handing a disturbing stigma
And blames of having slighted some sacred dogma:
What could keep her thoughts and gist
Often flying to the consulting room of a Gynecologist
And in very helpless moments to some roadside butcher,
Not infrequently, a bitter lesson teacher…
Crystal clear hints that the Luckless One
Would’ve the baby’s shaming visit stopped
And some tomorrow, against another
Make sure that penetrative condom is not dropped.
Demonic spirit possessed my mind,
I pray for a blessings but get a breast,
I take a clear view to free my mind,
Then!! Here comes the long awaiting lady
Waiting to be pound.. I took a side view and fantasize her bareness as she send an eyes contact with a signal of approval
I undressed her quickly, nudity bare with brilliancy and beauty..
nipples long like needle,
I suckle and tickle,
Nipple size increases
Her breasts elate with joy,
Wiggle and dangle..
My hand loosely caress..
One hand caress her clapping buttocks
I go gentle to and fro beneath the sweetest hole.. her hands holds and rob my testicle..
Tongue kisses deep.. tongue beneath..
******** licked, excitement aroused..
A Hot hole tunnel wet...
she loose!..Heartbeat fast!!.Breath cease
Legs wide open..
She moan aloud for my ******** to deep into her depth.. Perfect adjustment, slowly I penetrate deeper, she give me a good atmosphere, with variation and a tighter sensation, deep and slow, pull out her ass up and down for a good penetrative action..
After a sweet missionary, with pleasure and satisfaction, she wrapped her lips and suck me gently, deep throat, she tickled my balls and testicle.. I moan aloud!!..
She enhanced me as i go over and over with variations, she adjust perfectly, submissively, wider, harder i hit her behind with a fantastic view, ****** reached as we lay down in glory
Alas!! I was dispossessed and i realized it was all but a fantasy, fallacy and a SINFUL IMAGINATION
If Yang is tea,
Yin is water.
If Yang is a vulnerable yolk,
Yin is a polyculturing transparent embryo.
If Yang is a sage ego,
Yin is a musecological body.
If Yang is fire,
Yin is air.
If Yang says Goodbye or Hello,
Yin feels Aloha.
If Yang is a convex mountain,
Yin is a concave river valley.
If Yang is a community,
Yin is communication.
If Yang is a sacred community,
Yin is re-ligious communication.
If Yang is Earth,
Yin is our Solar System.
If Yang is our enlightening FatherSun,
Yin is our empowering EarthMother.
If Yang is monotheistically sacred,
Yin is panentheistically organic.
If Yang wakes polycultured
crown polypathic Me,
Yin urges multiculturally inter-religious
root systemic We.
If Yang is inter-religious metaphysics
Yin is polyculturing environmental physics.
If Yang is 1,
Yin is 0.
If Yang is penetrative male,
Yin is receptive wombanist.
If Yang explicates future win/lose fear,
Yin implicates angry lose/lose past
If Yang explicates win/lose patrimony,
Yin implicates win/win matrimony.
If Yang explicates
universal messianic salvation,
Yin implicates
unitarian bodhisattva co-redemption.
If Yang restores EarthJustice
Yin re-ligions GlobalPeace
If Yang is 1 HumanSpirit,
Yin is 0 DivineNature
If Yang is welcoming Mind,
Yin is well-being Body.
If Yang explains compassion,
Yin implies pleasure.
If Yang is wisdom-forming Tea,
Yin is musical flowing Water.
Shouldn’t we readily agree,
Not to it like a decree,
Feeling really very free,
Unlike the under-lock-and-key,
That glances are for lent newspapers,
That shouldn’t in the borrowers hands last?
And to a reader, the foremost of his helpers,
Subduing the passages fast?
Men at the fascinating linger a glance,
But at The Suspicious glances steal,
Like detectives do on any sneaking chance,
With the demand for them damned real,
Every fired momentary glance,
Still a penetrative lance:
The would-have-been-good-enough,
For Prophet Elijah’s finishing off,
By the Baal Worshippers in a war dance,
And about him long begun to prance.
Normal glance: an attention in The Military,
Let alone The Stolen of the Gloomily Solitary,
With a frightful interest in Suicide,
But also appraising the merits of Genocide.
Hatch though glances do the poorest in detail,
Most of their reports rather a retail,
The looker furnishing scant contentment,
His eyes giving a fresh employment:
The longer look of curiosity that wasted the cat,
And demeanor of one who’d soon smell some rat.