Best Prurience Poems


Premium Member Internal Inhibition

How fondly he recalls when doting moon stared
Blush of her radiant smile gleamed opaline skies
While cuddling stellar vibes love they declared 
And embracing her allure he venerated his prize.

In womb of romantic night passions-grand aired
Exchanging fervent vows, longing dawn of sunrise,
When revealing prurience every intention bared 
In rhapsodic titillation euphoric feelings surmise.

Alas! soon emotions hid—dispiritedly impaired
When blissful times saddened hearing her cries
As souls, deceptively beguiled, no longer cared,
Silence between them grew stoking sullen guise,

For rise of whimsical day, woefully unprepared,
Shadowed glamorous arc, deeming fate unwise,
And upon sanguine horizons stygian storms flared
As the pledges of forever, destiny chose to revise.

She pleaded to forget the love they once shared,
Its flame was extinguished by whim of disguise;
Dreams they dreamt could no longer be repaired
Once the spark of aspirations abandoned her eyes.

Suppressions of emotions left them bereft, unpaired,
As lovelorn inhibitions roared, to spell their demise
Exiting prized fervor, forsaking dreams unrepaired,
Trapping unrequited love-vibes where passion dies.
 
May 10, 2022
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 30 – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen: Internal Inhibition

Premium Member addicted to you -

you course in my veins with prurience, wild
          immersing my marrow in urge, recompiled
               teceptors abducted the instant you smiled
     love's effigy flaming, my sinews defiled
all virtue forsaken, as tears from a child
          fidelity's prospects are henceforth reviled

     I inject you, narcotic - my opiate, pure
a caustic and carnal contingency's cure
          delectably dressed with diabolic allure
               such dermal sublimity, surface demure
     I taste of your shapes, corporeal contour

          skin softly savored, goosebumped and bare
               your tang on my tongue, the nectar I share
     our sugar rush potion for ravishment, rare
mixed in a kiss with the strands of your hair

               your ecstatic delirium inculcates my core
     I'm lost to a lust that's not lasted before
tinged with an aching that day would abhor

               velvet and warm are the walls of your fire
     addicted to you with a crave to be higher

          you are my medicine, the tonic I chug

     I am infected, lubricious and riled
lavished in sensual senses so sure
          imbibing the essence of you without care
               mixed in like poison, I stir you and pour
     swallow in gulps, the consequence, dire
you are my opiate ... you are my drug.

               addicted to you.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "Strand Choice M, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

( This is a new form I created named "Minuanetta", with a rhyme scheme of aaaaaa, bbbbb, cccc, ddd, ee, f, abcdef g (title) ).

Premium Member Sequence-Masquarade

in the shadow of yesteryear-
                                       distortions paralyse to-day's dream
whispered rumours of true things-
                                       drown in the shallows of egos' hubbub
and hidden,almost invisible-
                                      wait prurience,cloaked in desire


My Paramour

There is always a light, sometimes a tiny glimmer expanding 
Amongst the darkest forest as a fiery wheel of hope and desire 
It measures the life of many years of tasting moments so far and few 
The first full bite filled with momentous prurience leaving a tender 
Taste reminiscent of briny afternoons and glistening bodies 
On a hot summer afternoon at the edge of a water hole 
  
Tender hands gliding up and down smooth skin dispersing 
Guiding rivulets amongst the valleys and dell a secret hollow 
Too far a reach; for the adventurer has love in his heart not lust 
And as moons and suns are born and reborn the water recedes 
Forests are felled, but one strong sapling a nexus between 
The moments to bring forth the final moment the momentous moment 
  
The nexus by no means a linear thing, time curving as if blown 
By a wind filled with sounds of ghosts and angels, gently abrading 
What seems like mountains into stones, into dust, into a gentle breeze 
Drying tears, reviving a hermit heart, filling lungs with perfumed air 
My paramour, no more a paramour but so much more, so much more

Va-Va-Voom

Flim-Flam dances to the beat of a drugged out drummer
Her moves are suggestive and sometimes vulgar
Her hands are soiled and damp holding onto the grimy pole
She’s topless and her dancing is like a listless puppet performing a role
She has a striking body and her hair is curly and luxuriant
It makes patrons’ thoughts lean towards prurience
As the evening lumbers on, Flim-Flam’s dancing slows to a crawl 
She’s tired, hungry and wants to curl up and bawl 
A huge man approaches the stage sneering at her with tight dark eyes
He’s obese, sweaty, dirty, and wears an obscene leather tie
Flim-Flam looks down and backs up in mortal fear
It’s her stepfather; he’s found her; he staggers as he leers 
He hollers. “Got ya, Gal, you gonna be sorry you ran away – you hear?”
He grabs at Flim-Flam, but a bouncer steps in with a bone-crushing slam
Her stepfather pulls a hunting knife bellowing and slashing
But the bouncer is bigger, fitter, and not afraid of grabbing
Crazed bullies, liquored, riled up and flailing
The bouncer drops the stepfather to marry the floor
Disarms him, pins him while hollering, “Flim-Flam, get out the back door”
Slamming into the bouncer’s 4x4, Flim-Flam hunkers down weeping
She hears sirens, people shouting, cursing, tires screeching
She hears the Miranda given just before she slides into oblivion
A gentle hand shakes her awake, it’s the bouncer, his name is Jake
Her new husband smiles with kindness, his love shining forth
“We’re going north to the farm where I was born and want to live my life
With you by my side, not “Flim’Flam”, but Grace Marshall, my wife
He holds her close whispering, kissing, reassuring
“Va-Va-Voom” disappears; a happy ending, a promising beginning.
© Carol Zic  Create an image from this poem.

D-Day Th' Day Cometh

"D"~DAY (TH' DAY COMETH...)


JUST AS PEACE,SEEMED TO EASE US OF MISERY...
DOUBT N' CONTEMPT ARISES,YET 'GAIN TO GREETETH OUR CONTENTMENT
TH' WORLD'S REQUIRING OF INTRICACY,RESOUNDS DINS OF DISDAIN
PLUCKING AT OUR SANITY'S STRINGS,THIS IGNORANCE REWARDS US MOROSE


TO TH' POINT OF BREAK,OUR TOLERANCE IS STRETCHED TAUGHT
REASONING NOW DOUSED OF DEBAUCHERY,OUR EMPATHY WAXES FUTILE
WHEN 'TIS FULFILLED,WRATH WILL RESTORETH SIGHT OF TH' OBLIVIOUS
FOR TH' TRUTH OF THEIR PRURIENCE,SHALL PROVE THEMSELVES PRIMITIVE


TH' PERVERSION OF KNOWLEDGE,ONCE MORE AFFIRMS DESECRATION
BY ADORNING OF GRACE WE WERE REDEEMED...NOW LOOMS DEATH OF DIGNITY
LUXURY SPREADS IT'S ROOTAGE,SO OF IT'S VINES WE ARE ENTANGLED
EXPEL TO HELL THEIR WANTONESS,N' THEIR EGOSTIC DESIRES OF GAIN


ABORTED FROM OUR WOMBS OF PIETY,THEY NOURISHED NO REMORSE
ROES OF REPRISAL THEY HATH CONCEIVED,OF PROFITOUS FORNICATIONS
THEIR SURETY IN AFFLUENCE,SHALL CERTAIN THEIR CONCLUSION
WHEN DULY ACHIEVED COMETH...


...THEIR DAY OF DESTINATION!



~AZAZA~'09


Hedonist

He rapt his thoughts
In a tone of utter solemnity
Reverent disgust veiled
The icy wasteland of his soul

Seized with doubt
His emaciated lust- the empty mirage 
Of his forgotten manhood
Countenanced immodesty

An extension of natural law
Plucked from tender bosom
Leaving this prodigal sweetheart
’twixt searing blaze of shameless prurience

Here they came in leaps and bounds
Clad in flames of destruction
To gobble solace paramount
Bringing pungent odour of uncouthness

This unmarried hermit
Took pleasure in worldly jubilation
Defied childhood admonition
That infamy seeds its own immolation

He was not to buttress his memory
On whimpers of bleeding hearts
Nor on the flooded gutter of spiritualism:
Only the endowments of heart… only these.

Devouring Carnal Desires

Lifeless, I lie here
On the bed of lust
Under the beefy quilt 
of mounting shame
With oozing hurt
And fading flame
To feed your lechery
with drops of salaciousness
Behind the closed doors
of raging prurience
As the rays of sun melt
In the heart of burning sky
I lay self down in gloom
And crouch down at your sight
As I bow, you drag me down
To feed your hungry soul
With the tender flesh
Of my puerile charm
And strangled glow
when the moon shines
Over the dying remains
Of my ebbing mind

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My interpretation of the portrait named 'Sleeping Child'
http://www.stephaniedeshpande.com/porfolio/

Fervor

I will just pretend a life with you
To hug you until I feel you
and I touch you, you to feel me
I will just pretend the fieriness
along with desires to get blazed
with no fear and with no flames
still I will glow to pretend a life ever with you.

I will just pretend a life with you
To kiss you until you lust me in your lips
and I adore you, you to savor me
I will just pretend the zestfulness
along with redolence to get bare
with no disgrace and with no traits
still I will be honied to pretend a life ever with you.

I will just pretend a life with you
To lie with you until you breath me my whispers
and to hold you, you to make me cozy
i will just pretend the prurience
along with repulses to be peerless
with no sin and with no quest
still I will treasured to pretend a life forever with you.

Lust

Her touch
tempts him wild
A shock of heat
bleeds him blind
The intoxicating brew
of her juices and smells
The lips conjured
An erotic flame.
 
His fingers exploring
Her tempting contours 
sensational rush,
their body quivers...
He see her sway
He see her move...
He see her curves
and felt her skin
silk smooth.
The flow of sensation 
sparks like an electric wire
The cold weather
seems to them like a burning fire.
 
The night was prolonged 
with gentle breeze 
and her breath
aerated loud
as he felt her navel
with his dewy lips...
the pleasure aroused
as she seized him with her arms
and gently she played with her fingers
On his back to inspire the charm.
 
She squealed 
she palliated
out of prurience and pain
when he felt her
'rose wet cave'.
They savored
they intimated
out of trust and faith
when she cajoled him
withal she gave.

Premium Member Ripples

Two ripe, moisture-dappled lips
Hunger, unabated, for what lies behind
Entranced by your gaze, I dive ... down ... deep

Rings upon rings, smooth, symmetrical
Indefectible flowing furrows of faultless fluidity
Pulsating circles of rhythmic energy, ever outward
Perfect toroidal expressions of a language, liquid
Loops of sublime, running succession
Ever ordered and expanding ...
Sound? Water? Thought?

Oh, such moments for us are not now abounding
Forever, it seems, has its compass after all

Outward, the repeating circuits continue
Under a perfectly sorrowful moon, you shed a carnal tear 
Red lips turn to plum, and taste as sweet as

Porcelain, your skin glows behind your herbal tresses, fallen
As silk, the strands mix with our mouths and tongues
Sweet, deep, like cotton candy, our lips melt ... one
Seductive and divine, (the first ring of our prurience)
Intertwined, another kiss - immersed, liquescent, (the next ring)
Outward they spread - kiss, touch, explore (rings) ... more ...
Now, endless ... and ever ... the ripples of our passion.





~ 7th Place ~  in the "Ripples In the Water Poetry Contest", Nayda Ivette Negron, Judge & Sponsor.

Premium Member plunge -

there is one river, boundless

          that I long to swim at length


a-flowing dark and magical

          with prurience and strength


and if those churning waters

          are the stead of my demise


‘tis nowhere else I'd rather drown ...

          than deep there … in your eyes.






~ 2nd Place ~  in the "When A Fourth Line Helps It To Rhyme" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Sponsor.

Six Degrees of Separation

Advent of mass electronic
     (not necessarily fail
proof), nonetheless spellbinding
     how earthlinked communications
     sent and/or received information
     quicken er than one exhale
     technology over hill and dale
activated on a broader 
     (nee global) scale.

A mere six degrees
     of separation dust achieve
world wide web
     bed humanity linkedin,
     though mind boggling
     and hard to believe
e're since Adam and Eve,
no matter this nonestablishmentarian

     atheist doth heave
such paradigm aside - by Jeeve
his comprehension cannot leave,
to imagine each and all
persons across,
     amidst avast ball
loo ning global schema,
     an arbitrary person can call

upon contact per
     son number one, -
     (a bajillion generations
     since the prelapsarian  fall
crumb, when a dam fool
     with excess gall
on a mid summer
     night's eve) hall
loosed dill lewd did prurience...

Supposedly six relational
     links ironically sea
     ming lee (engulf) you
then according to profound view
and/or me from said initial
     individual numeral uno,
which supposition
    attests to be true

the idea that all living things,
     and everything shoe
fits in "lock step,"
     he/she iz six,
     or fewer steps away,

     (though eighty steps 
     to Jonah IMDb)
seems kinda far fetched to rue
min in nate 
     each other so that
     a chain i.e. (exempli gratia)
     "a friend of a friend."

In a world of six point six
     billion people, aye
find mind blowing by and by
the precept defy
ying believability
     by Jeeves this guy
queried Google,
     and got substantiated - no lie

thee primary, secondary,
     tertiary, quaternary,
     quinary, and senary
     bitty bing well nigh
re: codifying above tubby

     the same thing app ply
ying enumeration and sigh
ting one, two, three...
     six amaze zing thy
and thou unwittingly
     connected, how or why
the human race linkedin.

I Want You

I am a walking shadow, watching people prowl these streets
Their minds filled with perversion and degradation
I'm an observer of soulmates that amidst the weak
Fascinations so salacious and unchaste
But it's all for one woman
Fantasies of the netherworld in my existence
I want her to be my woman of carnality
To be my pure subsistence
My human psyche drenched in prurience
You can't blame me
The complication of attraction can make you derange
The dangerous sexuality enslaves me
If I may, I would give her every severe detail
Give me the chance, give me the time and place
The emotions I have has yet to be debased
A virtuous life of unison indulgence is what I seek
I want you by myside in a scenic realm
I don't give a damn if it's an anomaly
Happiness comes first in the seducing attraction
Dealing, receiving, unrestrained urges
Making my impulse dwell
You're in my dreams, feeling the most unfettered
I want you

Cupid Sets Hearts On Fire

Every February fourteenth,
(reference Gregorian Calendar see
High Middle Ages his Saints' Day)
which combs thee
day after morrow aye decree

Tweedledum and Tweedledee
mine near one and same
mean mein near best buddy
donning Harris tweed plus sundry
other manifold couture to express free

expression like... once upon time
innocently naive barenaked lady
Chatterley young hippy feeling groovy,
albeit (think psychedelic) swiftly tailored

Harry styled vested gentry
twills nonetheless seam, née
upon aforesaid occasion intoxicated spree
formerly honored when animalistic glee

burst asunder courtesy biological key
hormones thawing lovely frozen bones
buzzfeeding, delivering, exuding earthy
primal propensities originally
linkedin with Lupercalia

nonetheless, encompassing various
animalistic, erotic, narcissistic... needs ye
not not necessarily be apprised,
where altruistic festive folk would easily agree

to hunker down no matter
sheepishness prevalent within
wooled wide web re:
guarding Islanders at their homes
Islands named total more'n three

amidst Lewis, Harris, Uist, Barra
and several pertinences, all fertile
like lasses christened Galilee,
yet all known as Outer Hebrides.

Now really as one ewe man
misanthrope to another I advise
Cupid doth surprize
god of desire, erotic love,
hoop fully experienced
before permanent demise,
where mortals whisked no matter

sullen sensate (human and/or other) being
vainly, morosely, and futilely cries
passion play his trademark guise
plus tell tale sign tear streaming eyes
(think head over heels
lovestruck gals and guys)

willingly yoking, where
(of quartz) romancing stone 
temple pilot paunches face
(case toward albeit point yours truly) applies

young and old paramours recognize
steeped within storied mythologize
as one after another arrow
(whipped out quiver) guise

nocked, molded then loosed
courtesy once taut than slack bowstring
bedazzles lovers with stars
glistening in their lovestruck blind eyes
any unspoken inapropos prurience,
I eagerly, honestly, and readily, apologize.

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