Best Phallic Poems
Imagination nude
liquored and lacquered lips
ember-breathing phoenix
..lighter fluid magic
when let loose near a flame..
combustible thigh-highs
when moonshine-high is nigh—
the moon she bathes in dreams
I have you both in hand
my tongue slick and sleek seeks
to taste the fruits of fields
intoxicated snake
oh! my lust a slither
a quiver serpentine
squeeze innocence with sins
revive the withered vine
anthurium’s shield leaf
your phallic sword unsheathed
exotic frolic fire
in heart-shaped bloom I burn
fire-water-pulse untamed
grabbed by the mane restrained
—unrestrained dreams unleashed
tequila genie free
sassy-frassy lassie
a parasol in pink
frilly and unfolded
beholder beholden
to climb aboard and fly
feminine flamingo
through shaken sky uncorked—
liquid-libido rains
as thirst and thunder reigns
just drop the reins and ride
bridal sweet bridle free
yah barefoot and bareback
yes! drain the bottle dry
free way ticket three way
trifecta perfecta
primal energies spoon
la belle ‘Bianca’ blanc—
wine-skinned mademoiselle
Categories:
phallic, desire, fun, imagery, romantic
Form:
Free verse
after the painting by Vincent Van Gogh
Does she even exist? Doubting her own reality,
seeing herself vanishing in undulating undergrowth,
fading and merging into summer-scorched scenery.
But cold lurks there beneath shafts of sunlight, phallic trees...
He wears the night underneath, a fabric of dark and unease,
his hand heavy upon her arm, silver-tongued charm
smooth as the silver-limbed leafless trees,
disappearing now on a twisting breeze...
Sinuous stems suffocate, writhing and thrashing;
convulsions of shuddering green and yellow.
Enticed ever deeper into flailing flowers,
evanescing into foam of frothing flora...
Did she ever truly exist? It's doubtful.
The flower-frail faceless and nameless
will always be lured and laid, invisible,
dissolving, under bare, phallic trees.
Categories:
phallic, abuse, dark,
Form:
Ekphrasis
I am amazed by the power of you words,
They seep through my skin
Like ink’s aphrodisiac,
And I feel powerless to stop them,
The mere thought of your hands
Touching me makes
Atoms explode inside my chest,
As if a universe is being born,
A light sweat glistens over my form
As my eyes devour every syllable,
My heart beats to the tune you write,
With quickened breath
I feel it consuming me,
This sexual fantasy wax lyrical,
I fail, not miserably but excitedly
To control my minds dirty idiom,
Where do the thoughts of lust go?
I feel them cling to me
Begging to be made manifest,
Tonight your pen is my phallic pleasure,
Take me and make me your muse.
Categories:
phallic, devotion, love, passion, romanceme,
Form:
Free verse
Shadow Play
While Freud sits at the mind end of the couch phallus in hand
shapes others’ dreams in unspoken imposition ‘must-abation’
analyses abuses his daughter in metaphorical incest projects
his own aggressive sexual drives and neurotic megalomania
Jung after killing the father figure sits with and under shadows
gathers the zenith of clouds rays collects collective conscience
unconsciousness retrieves ancient symbols propagates mythical
archetypes to archetypical conclusions reflects tainted sunshine
He forges gently I surmise poles and vaults of contradictions
opposites polar juxtapositions seemingly un-mutual mysteries
and ponders light and darkness tearing torn apart thus healing
in the complementing contrast of void change completeness
Where Freud posits polymorph perversity bit by sexual bitter
sweet bit in a bid for so called science of mind over matter Jung
morphs perpetual change crafted and cast through a different
lens admits to poetic licence narration oral traditions and growth
******** in mind not of the ***** castrated in fear not envious of
phallic dominance over clitoral defence wombs groomed entombed
by guilt transgression sexual submission shallow **** oral penile
ossification of flaccid resurrection Jung begs and offers to differ
In complex incomplete never-ending search a path from change to
change and beyond dialectical synthesis played enacted in parallel
processes and progressive psychological drama of a different kind
he much kinder more reflective less regressive and adventurous
Lets shadows erect and paint play dance reflect and move on
16th August
Categories:
phallic, courage,
Form:
Free verse
**From my collection of poems: 'Apollo's Diary'
I wonder if she thinks of me,
at night, alone.....
in her melting-bed;
With moon full as her curiousity
....my breath, the wind in the late hour
the stars I shall tease with,
and phallic-lavender to ignite her bosom;
I am all things gentle, yet mighty,
soft as her silk sheets.....
Dark and tall in her bedroom shadows,
but candle-light makes me real
with the night so young,
if a king should come ----
he will not do.....
She longs love, not adulterous power;
I shall whisper upon a balmy breeze.....
(I wonder if she thinks of me)
at night.....
Categories:
phallic, fantasy, love, mythology, romance,
Form:
Rhyme
An old Ethiopian veteran of the love wars
once told a newlywed Kenyan kid:
If you want the infant marriage to survive,
make it to the golden years Mt. Kilimanjaro side
You gotta keep the giraffe standing up,
when the ecstasy mountain air gets thin at night
When you’re starting the climb,
don’t early reach
for the apex of a lovemaking climax
You gotta stay rock hard,
climbing the pleasure wall for the long haul —
Or don’t even shorty night come at all
Keep the flagpole reared tall;
because the minute your
testosterone stone levels fall,
you might as well go geld yourself
Premature burial ...
put the family jewels in a coffin box
Don’t bother to take off your pants,
might as well keep on your socks
Prepare to have plenty eunuch days
of abstinent nights
Too many failed erections
gonna get you shovels loads
of opposite sex dissatisfaction
Expect a bedroom eviction notice,
telling you to
get your droopy drawers packing
Frequent impotent performances,
gonna get her eyebrow curtains raised
So many flaccid phallic early encore excuses made
gonna get you tossed out of the bed,
and kicked downstairs onto the couch
Premature ejection is coming,
your woman’s been too long frustrated ...
doubts gon start creeping in:
Where you been,
who you seeing ...
Why you keep coming home
with your love sacs empty?
Those suspicions gon start stiffening:
She’s gonna wanna know
whose arms been keeping your bottom mind bent
You’re gonna wanna know
where in the world did your lost manhood get sent
If you don’t wanna lose access
to her intimate-starved heart,
you better start trying harder on keeping it hard
Learn to get a second wind of stamina,
too much soft effort gon get your love privilege barred
Premature pleasure aborted love
will have your armadillo snout soul dragging
Premature love not long enough
will have your elephant nose spirit sagging
Don’t depend on bottled passion,
pharmaceutical extended sex
Too many early evening elongated failures
gonna get you a premature ex
Categories:
phallic, allegory, marriage, philosophy, truth,
Form:
Burlesque
*****This poem was fairly popular, though I'm re-posting it for the ladies****
**From my collection of poems: 'Apollo's Diary'
I wonder if she thinks of me,
at night, alone.....
in her melting-bed;
With moon full as her curiousity
....my breath, the wind in the late hour
the stars I shall tease with,
and phallic-lavender to ignite her bosom;
I am all things gentle, yet mighty,
soft as her silk sheets.....
Dark and tall in her bedroom shadows,
but candle-light makes me real
with the night so young,
if a king should come ----
he will not do.....
She longs love, not adulterous power;
I shall whisper upon a balmy breeze.....
(I wonder if she thinks of me)
at night.....
Categories:
phallic, love, romance,
Form:
Romanticism
stick together people
the elites
are gleaning power
from the seeds of misery garden
they're dividers of the masses
nothing more-nothing less
they smother smiles - voices.. happiness
wishing
to keep us in our safe-less spaces
for eternity.
every media outlet is brimming with
half-truthers-distorters-liars
phallic symbols for political parties
erect with hate-void of integrity
highlighting the ogres of society
breeding fear
spotlighting the freaks of society
wanting us believing all white people
are grand wizard hearted
that black veins are filled with thug sludge..
corporations are feeding piles of green to the media machine
forever stomping the bent backs of the plow horse class
planting hollow souled politicians in our garden of democracy
but in time
all devils will expose themselves
stumble over their own fetid script
in time they'll soon forget their own lies..
slit their throats-hang from ropes
of their own making
stick together people
unity is the purist form of diversity
stick together people
soon enough(with help from God)
we'll turn evil into crumbs
Categories:
phallic, america,
Form:
Free verse
Axe the old Don, a trump peter n piper
of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
ha air brushed pompous ****
Sunkist in Macy's window
then like a jackal hound, he doth run
after public outcry yelps
for his hide leaving
proletarian discord re: pyrrhic victory won.
Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination
while kissing thing kith
darting forked tongue sharp as bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed
expletives toward lass
sees – especially Fox Television
news anchor woman Megyn Kelly
(quite so many ill mannered indiscretions ago)
inducing said personality
to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults sacrilegiously
maliciously, noxiously, opprobiously
incriminating, hellaciously,
desecrating opportunistically as hiss oh piss
so…NO amp pull VOTE of confidence from me
(thus far ohm host halfway to 2020 election
toward such a volt char quite rude, snooty
arrogant simian with sass.
I van (terribly hard pressed)
to describe while sitting on me rump
how he oh bomb in lee rages
gnashing false teeth
Wilma backside doth slump
still blasting Democratic nomination
(pa hill a reed) as sham –
from special interest bro and sis turn pump
he, the epitome of
crass bloviation, a malignant lump
whose rants,
sans presidential outcome a shame
bullying with his millions beds this,
that and another woman to bareback jump
disseminating gene pool
birthing more Quakers
and additionally doth hump
the mass media as some foolhardy charade
and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape erected Taj Mahal
phallic symbol, where players dump
and gamble away hard earn cash
for his kitty, as if that cachet
to grind and bump
lambasting with maniacal
like "Stormy Dan" yells
leering oafish ill pout
while hair rum
(of red follicular) bulls ad hocks
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed locks
resemble a flock
of bronzed sea gulls mocks
heady measly shaped Muppet Ox
dis eased cranial hologram shocks
of a cretaceous, facetious tocks
(sic) exogenous, insidious, and obstreperous vox.
Categories:
phallic, 12th grade, abuse, anger,
Form:
Imagism
This one’s a castle; that’s a customs-house.
They’re stolid, listless, just a little dull.
The sky supports an arbitrary gull.
The languidness of Liszt, the style of Strauss
are wholly absent. Colours are metallic.
The eye sweeps over cornice, turret, steeple,
then it dawns on us – there are no people.
Clock towers, mountains, minarets, all phallic,
are void of human life. Stark, empty chairs
adorn each arid, motionless interior.
As we apprise, eyes sneeringly superior,
we note acerbically his love of stairs –
A Will to Power, ever pushing up.
One daub there is, however, gives us pause:
it dates long before Enabling Laws,
before he dreamed of Kesselring or Krupp:
a bridge that’s quite impossible to cross,
going nowhere, has never carried traffic.
With a boy sitting on it. Startling, graphic,
without a hint of Schadenfreude or Schloss.
Self-portrait, this? What features may we trace?
What’s here vouchsafed? Incipient racist brute?
Hardly. A disarmingly awful suit,
and most revealingly of all – he has no face.
Categories:
phallic, history,
Form:
Quatrain
The land shrugs off the chill of winter
And emerges into spring’s full beauty.
The things barren bloom hereafter.
People remember me as an icon of vitality
I am erected and decorated with ribbons,
People dance winding ribbons around the spire.
The young couples dancing around me
Get licensed to “go into the green” together
Dance and song is weaving of life’s energies.
I am a phallic symbol signifying fertility while
Wreaths and baskets represent the female.
Thus celebrating sexuality and life
Before the Horned God or the Greek God Pan.
Some connect me to the worship of Maia,
The presiding Goddess of the month May.
+++
February 3, 2015
Form : Free Verse
Categories:
phallic, celebration, community,
Form:
Personification
I've started my stand-by diet: a few different fruits each day,
and having repeated it time and again, I feel qualified to say
apples, unless of a rare and crisp nature, are mushy and generally gross.
Halfway into the core of one, I'm still starving and feeling morose.
The diet's mainstay, pineapple, for its fat-burning enzymes revered,
when fresh, is somewhat palatable.
If it's green, though, ones mouth can be seared.
And that popular phallic banana, which when peeled, fast begins to rot:
That one I'll leave for the monkeys though it's garnish for sundaes or not!
Tomorrow I'm finally in for a treat. It's a watermelon to eat.
But for all my thumping to test for its ripeness,
it well could taste flat and not sweet.
Blueberries, too, and cherries are good.
I wish there were more fruits like these.
However, I long to see them all "berried"
‘neath Cool Whip atop cream cheese.
Plums or grapes, frozen or plain, "not bad" until they are dried.
By the time I'm consuming ghastly prunes,
I'll be famished for food that is fried!
Mangoes, too, are on my list of what I must partake.
But (gag me) their texture lends the sensation
I'm swallowing snails or a snake.
I've noticed of late with this regimen, its slimming magic is slowing
as with each precious year's dissolution, my metabolism's lowering.
Next week (so I say) I'll banish forever this obsolete, once-potent "cure".
It long since has extracted from me any craving for food that is pure.
With a dull kitchen knife I took my papaya today and reverently sawed it.
With its flavor lingering there on my tongue,
it struck me it hinted of vomit.
*I'm not a big fruit eater as this shows!! This is a diet I will no longer pursue!
Next I should do a poem on how sickening it gets eating salads day after day.
Jan. 27, 2017 for Jamie Pan's "It's time for hilarious poetries"
Categories:
phallic, fruit,
Form:
Rhyme
Continued from Part 1
Matt Dillon chases Jack LaLane
Around a roller derby lane
I think I need some more cocaine,
So please don’t ever come back Shane
I try to walk another street
When me and Walter Cronkite meet;
He says he thinks the news is neat
And starts to talk about the sleet
I run away as fast I can
When Brinkley and the other man
Say ‘good night Peter, good night Pan’
While Tinker Bell is on the can
A dog starts crapping up the yard,
He must have eaten too much Pard
But watch out, here comes Pat Boone, bard,
He’s taking steps without regard
I find a jackass facing me
And ride as far as far can be
And find myself beneath the sea,
But now Lloyd Bridges faces me
I think he must be on a hunt
To find a mind that he can stunt;
He says ‘they’re sitting all up front
And you can hear them as they grunt’
Old Ironsides rolls into view
And says he’s looking for a clue;
I close my eyes and say ‘me too’
’cause something seems so much askew
I better buy some brand new specs
’cause Mickey Mouse is rated X
And everybody’s doing sex;
Ben Casey gives the VD checks
Hey, Milton Berle is throwing rocks
And Elvis Presley’s chased by flocks
Of girls in teeny bopper socks;
Please help, I’m sick, I need two docs
A weirdo asks me ‘what’s my line
If Ricky Nelson drinks my wine
And Lucy is my concubine;
Paola’s great if I get mine’
I’m looking for a place to hide
I stick my thumb out for a ride
When Jackie Gleason pulls up beside
‘If two squared’s four, can you divide?’
‘Of course I can, I’ve been to school
And I am not nobody’s fool’
I feel I am a molecule
Just floating through a vestibule
So Jackie says ‘you are a kid
But older than a pyramid,
Too bad you’re not a phallic squid;
I say, ah, can you spare a lid?’
Some girls are wearing panty hose
They shave their hair which overgrows
And spray away their bod’s B.O.s;
I want to fade inside my clothes
Continued in Part 3
Categories:
phallic, parody, night, me, night,
Form:
Rhyme
Embarrassing moments .. oh I guess we’ve all had a few
But this is one is so memorable so I will share it with you!
My hubby had become friends with Dave through work
and we had been invited for a Chinese meal with him and his girlfriend
I had never met them before and was a little bit nervous
The restaurant we went to was very posh
Dave and Tracey had eaten there the week before
We all got on like a house on fire and laughed all night
The conversation flowed, as did the wine.
We had a delicious meal and it was then time to order dessert
Banana fritters were on the menu, my mouth watered at the thought
Oh I simply adore banana fritters drizzled with golden syrup
We all agreed to have the same dessert
Dave’s eyes lit up and he called the waiter over
he ordered ‘banana fritter specials’ …
winked at the waiter and they both laughed
We continued chatting whilst we waited for our desserts to arrive
Suddenly the other diners went quiet and then they started to laugh
I turned round to see two waiters striding across the room
Each carrying two plates with our desserts
Yes banana fritters …
but not like I had EVER witnessed before or since
The banana had been cooked with two ‘dough balls’ one on either side
and had been arranged on the plate so that the banana was ‘upright’
A blob of cream at the top of the banana fritter completed the effect
By the time this phallic pudding was placed in front of me
my face was as red as a tomato and I was crying with laughter.
I wanted the floor to open up and engulf me
I was so embarrassed as everyone was laughing at us
Somehow we all managed to eat our desserts
It was the best banana fritter I’ve ever tasted -
and definitely the most memorable!
We became great friends with Dave and Tracey
but never went back to that restaurant again
This happened in 1991 and is a 100% true story!
Most embarrassing moment Contest
Sponsor Mystic Rose
10~10~15
Categories:
phallic, food, fun, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
Merry speak, Father
As life sprouts forth within spring-
Priapic* flower.
A. Green
* 1. Priapic- Of, relating to, or resembling a phallus; phallic.
Categories:
phallic, devotion, faith, life,
Form:
Haiku