Best Pubic Poems
Put on his red bathers you're joking
Too tight something out front it was poking
found another old pair
to cover up pubic hair
He's now off to the ocean for soaking
Now he's looking quite bronze and quite fancy
Ready to meet his girlfriend who's called Nancy
on the sand they will walk
hold hands while they talk
One day she might be his fiancee
Find a spot that's private and shady
to skinny dip with his beautiful lady
several others have come
they see his lily white bum
His girl's given surname it's O'grady
From ocean water body's cool, appetisingly salty
Sun burnt skin's feeling sore and quite faulty
He wants to bonk on the shore
She says no that's for sure
He says your excuse is unloving and paltry
His ex girlfriends name was Cecelia
Too often he wanted to feel her
with legs very bandy
he was often so randy
In the sun in in the hay made love to this sheila
Now this oversexed man so begotten
So naughty they smacked his big bottom
but he wasn't deterred
still did what he preferred
Loved underwear made out of soft cotton
Now it's summer he's feeling quite warm
Many old tricks he does often perform
out in his work shed
there's a double sized bed
Where they shed all the clothes that are worn
It's now time for a warm summer party
Can attend it's casual not arty farty
still daylight at nine
have a whopping good time
Good conversation and laughter that's hearty
God’s gift to the world
Casanova
Wanna-be as
With your playa-listic mentality
U make me third world country sick and ashamed that I ever crossed your path
Do me a favor
And go take a nice hot bath
Soak off some of that ego
That got you running round here
Acting a damn fool
Let some of that “she wish she had me”
Mentality down the drain and out the gutter that you derived from
U aint shid but a bum as tick infested with the gluttony of being stuck on yourself
Make of it what you wish
Check this
When you realize how many of these groupie-as broads aint nothing
But groupie-as
Gold-diggin
Want to do nothing but keep you in the ditch you been already crawling in for so
long broads
Maybe then you’ll know that your greatest ancestry father did not die pickin’ cotton
With lashes on his back
“Yes massah” on his lips
Gospel hymns in his every thought and nothing but love in his heart for you to
Play these huchie mama
Aint got the rent money
But wearing Versace
Stripping by night
Hoin’ by day caught up in the
What a man wants mind frame flippin tricks for Mary Jane
And still walk alone tainted and ashamed
Still stuck in a rut
All to let some gigolo as nigga get a nut
Don’t you understand the color of your own skin?
Why you think black aint in the rainbow?
Cause its too damn beautiful
You better recognize it and stop
Trying to analyze what puscy you get the most juice to coat your jerry curled pubic
roots
Cause I’m a let you know
Aint no puscy better than being a real man and I’m gon be cursin’ you out until
the lesson I just taught is easy for you to understand
Listen to my words and desire me my sun-ripened lady
For I will be as magniloquent and indiscreet
as a biblical poet
The sculpting of your Siamese contour
pours into my empty cup like apricot brandy
I filled the night's chalice with knots of desire
and it satisfied me deeper than mere friction
Aphrodite has kissed your firm twins
As a cluster from the vineyards of Glen-Eden
on a sun-drenched September afternoon
Secretory perfumes from your pubic stubble
And gardenia from your thick locks
so fragrant I see their scent
I take them in with every sense engorged
SELAH
When I make you moan and frown
you stare vertically through closed eyes
Then drunkenly mutter, “I cum”
When I breach your lips, north and south in unison
we give birth to the child of incandescence
She has your raven eyes.
I look into them and I see the light of Aioue
Her aura is primal, fleeting, and beyond intoxication
We become one flesh in the eyes of the cosmos
I see you my love, my friend!
These words are meant for one who is brooding for loves
They who walk with heaven beneath their feet
live under the shade of authenticity
Walk with me under the cloak of shadows
CHAIYYA
At this moment your honeyed cream remains on my palate
When I showed you how we French kiss
yes those are the moments!
Bedeviled nectars are not devilish, but imbibed in the shade
Nay, they are turned rancid only by the manufactured light
that casts the shadow from our cloak
Therefore, no one shall judge our chamberings
When we are not together I wax
For me the duplicity is hard
but I cannot live without pleasures!
I savor the darkness as per the design of the ancients
who learned to love and to invent pleasures
They are familial ghosts from a region in my belly
and we commune
SELAH
The inclinations I have toward paramours
has been buried so deeply
that I cannot locate from whence they come
In the balance between propriety and abandon
I have chosen what is in front of me
I will be reminded of my choices
when we walk again
I don’t know if I love you
because I hate that word
Maybe someday I’ll invent a better one
My beautiful little doxy
I cannot nor would not sponge away
the scent of your existence from my mind
nor the music of your moans from my ears
Nudes were outlandish and unique in Goya’s time
A harlot asked to paint her nude with pubic hair
On criticism, he refused to paint without clothes sublime
Instead painted another one with fair clothes
Clothes make the man, especially woman with care.
+++++++
August 7, 2014
Dr.Ram Mehta
Ninth Place win
Form: Ekphrasis
**Inspired by the two paintings - the nude woman and clothed woman
of Francisco Goya**.
Stymied synergistic stoolcumers synchronized
of gifted glib galb garbage run of mouth
nicotine rings of one night
no promise quickly spilled
ever taxed gestured pocket
pool. tandem coulpling random
access eye spew askances for a
tainted night glow. Weak whitewine
whispers office yupslugs curtaling on a
Friday nnite feeding rampage
cock'll doodle do ya, hopefully, fixed
******l trans plant stilted blue
libidious carneverous ego ectascies
exaggerate trip the gonad fantasy fantastic
click, click, click, scrape,
click females ina crowd leave ina crowd
***** puffers everywhere cancer
croonies suck lips with sunken jaw
jumping jill frenzy paste posted tooth
smiles--only gum grin where prohibited
white collar/blue collar share a
once beer of sorts, while linley smoke
figures haunt backwards in a sitdown dismal
denial comedy for the no show waitresses
geese gatheing empty of poignant personality
through bar riers of in-finite age range ripe
rituals for meta phor women to the restroom!
The plot hair thickens. my lungs hurt from watchexisting
Blue suit sancturary slugs offer office onslaughts through
oppulent openings via perservance in a temperate tampon
express meal head long into a pubic partisian oblivion?
True bar tintilation touting tempting tidbits of tumultious
temptations tilting time, tantilizing tremors, tracking
tricks of professional preference and sexosocial sinny
secular satisfaction. Gomer Pyle just pissed by.
Judy, Judy, Judy. Poor Judy.
occular preferences occlude
What can a bewildered brotha’ say,
it happens every unnatural day
Sunshine is labeled as shade,
crystal clear is called opaque fade
Did I make a left turn
into the wrong dimension?
Now I’m seeing curvaceous things
that Nana never mentioned
Me rearview mirror eyes are
side-swipe swivel swerve widening
Was there a hot-iron cool downgrade,
firebrand placed
on my Ocho Rios dreadlock upbraids?
Puff kings are turning into drag queens ...
strange flesh doings,
I-and-I now be-be first-hand witnessing
Boys are turning into girls,
and those goatee girlz are turning into scrotum women
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m living in
Sodom and Gomorrah again
Girls are turning into boys,
and those bosom boyz are turning into vulva men
Now, I’m not for sight sure,
just what glassy gaze starry eyes blurry,
rest beyond the dress curtain
Surprises a-plenty are in store,
when it’s uncertain
what’s behind the gender door
Don’t wanna make the wrong turn,
and roll into the surreal fifth dimension
Twilight Zone neon strip is on burn,
whatcha’ see
might require psychiatric intervention
Girls are turning into boys,
and those boyz are turning into Venus men
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m Sin City living in
ancient Egypt Greece again
Boys are turning into girls,
and those girlz are turning into Mars women
Puff kings are turning into drag queens ...
strange flesh doings
It’s an open-closet psychotropic skin scene
Another brother daisy duke
exhale exigent cross-dress pollination
Pubic bramble bush adolescent tumble,
take a different genitalia turn from
a same sister butch duchess
Boys are turning into girls,
and those girlz
are turning into testosterone women
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m Zion living in
Babylon Rome again
Girls are turning into boys,
and those boyz
are turning into estrogen ova men
Momma drag queens
are the former Daddy puff kings
Nothing on the surface is
quite biological what it seems
Id feelings of a sorrowful kind,
have me heart sprout creeping ivy
of eunuch tear yearning
for a Garden of Eden spiritual awakening
And impotent thoughts of mine
are starting to grow
down below, in-between
A decade of growth and decadent boom
People didn't mention the debt elephant in the room
It was the charge of the bull
Many pockets were full
The search for a higher return was the motivational pull.
But whilst stocks and shares rocked and flared
Investors held their breath in shock and fear
They seemed to forget that markets go up and markets go down
Because as long as uncertainty shows up, the cycle goes round
But to be fair the times were good, and returns seemed sure
The earnings of many corporations, continued to soar
The zeitgeist was the age of prosperity, profit and greed
It wasn't the time to question sustainability or question the need
Many financial advisers advised that it was the right way to go
"You should take advantage now, while all these rates of interest are low"
So many consumers took out mortgages, that they just couldn't afford
Including the 'sub prime', with bad credit, and of course the poor
But let's not forget, that the consumer went along, and played ball
Creatures of habit responding to the mating call, that beckoned us all
Deposits levels came down, loan-to-value went up
House prices bubbled and brimmed and we all drank from the cup.
Now the banks merged all of these mortgages together in lumps
Sold them as safe bets to investors, who were taken for chumps
Then the US housing market crashed
Now comes the the consequences
Unsurprisingly mortgage repayments started to slump
So called safe investments soon became worthless as junk
Families who had homes repossessed now facing the funk
Securitisation of mortgages now seemed so dumb
Regulators appeared powerless, dozing and numb
Lehman Brothers collapsed. America sneezed
The world became infected. Financial markets siezed
Governments and Central Banks now stepped into the fray
To prop up a system, that should have been reconfigured that day
Many banks were bailed; too big to fail.
The bankers who were at the wheel, too big to jail.
The humble tax payer was forced to post the cash
And many years later many banks still owe this cash
So the world was saved but here's the 'but'
The pubic purse was utilised, to escape the rut
Now all society must pay the price; take a hit to the gut
And suffer the pain, of historic public services cuts.
Mike Concise © 2015
www.mikeconcise.com
Not surrounded by cherubs,
the Nude Maja
shows pubic hair...
She stares,
and makes women ill at ease,
though I cannot speak for men.
There is a faint line of hair
from crotch to navel...
I cannot say I quested this
and most men would not care,
(or would they?)
for chance to see inclusion.
The pillows are nice
and the green coverlet,
but one is drawn to piercing eyes,
and the fact she has nothing to offer
except to show off cheap-style
in Madrid's Museo.
-----------------------------------------
9/8/2015
Contest - Controversial
Sponsor - Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
6th place win
Mambo (hi)
I talked to mum and brother and they say you are not doing well
Mum says the last time she saw you, you were better
She says you are worse now
Your once clear eyes, are now yellow
Auntie showed me a message you posted three weeks ago on whatsapp
Before you went to India
You sounded so hopeful
India couldn't do anything for, you are at terminal stage
A topic we hardly talk about because of your age
But we have too
There is no time left too
The only time we have,is to love
My most memories of you, of us
Is when I was entering puberty
I remember embarrassingly asking you about pubic hair, breasts, adams apple
In my homescience assignments
You were so good at answering them
You were so good at teaching me that new world I was about to enter
You were a great mentor
And those chapatis, OMG!
I remember your cooking lessons
You were so good at making that bread
With it, we were well fed
Thank you for being an awesome cousin
The only time we have, is to love
What a doll you've been in this crisis!
I have broken my pubic symphysis
You've propped me with a ladder
You've applied on ass an adder
And brought me a pesky paralysis
These countries that preach about hating terrorism
supports such acts financially overturning basic rights
Strong statements without knowledge carry little value
look to the bright side where trust is lacking
Intelligence has next to no faith if used backwards
manipulating talks takes these shady turns to falsely accuse
The twisting of classified information brews with soaring energy costs
liars harbour ungodly thoughts towards the truth
rocketing prices drawing on borderlines
Power carries a huge human sacrifice to achieve its goal
bloodbaths feed the rich, it all boils down to creating fear
Politically working on people to accept mayhem
this deal signed incorrectly against peace proves one thing
sins are passed on with this false identity shaping justice
Acceptance seems to be the new tolerance ignored
tortured like dogs victims say evil will fall in the end
no good ways erode democratic views to hold council
Freedom of speech in its uniform is under attack
opinion under pubic scrutiny paints this horrid picture
where good is considered ugly for being honest
A man like you considered I a myth...
They just do not exist in nature.
There must along side something odd herewith.
Dark and poignant. I meet you, stranger.
You read, you write, you're just great with people,
You are decent, honest and content.
While you are caressing my bare nipple
You like my jokes, laugh and pay the rent.
You are genuine, creative, daring,
You try new things out and you like kids.
I met you weeks ago and now I'm scared
How in the world would I get a grip
On all these feelings, such strong affection?
You have simply set the bar too high...
But you gave me purpose and direction.
I grew a tumor, thank God, benign.
You play guitar and you compose music.
Yet you are successful in a biz
Of suits, agreements, you like my pubic
Hair. You can pleasure me, you're a whiz!
You're into arts and theater, ballet.
Balzac and Rodin - those you admire.
You are set to win while I fell astray.
You will sing and sculpt when you retire.
You are tender, fit, cute and you do sports.
How do these get along together?
You are attentive, kind, you rule in court,
Want to dress me in suit of leather.
You sing, you're politically correct,
Feelings take in consideration.
Oh how losing you one cannot regret?
You brought me hope and liberation.
Oh yes and you negotiate too well.
This art you've mastered long ago.
You are insightful, you are bright, you're swell!
You are simple and you drink Bordeaux.
You prefer treating women like a queen.
That still exists? I thought it doesn't.
You feel real deep but you are made of steel.
I slumped in love all of a sudden.
I surely saw a lot of men before...
I played with them, I tried to tame one
With no success, was left completely sore,
Longed to dissipate. My song was sung.
I closed my eyes, ran from all this hassle.
Negotiating with scum. Little use.
Was occupied with survival, wrestle.
It's when I met you I was set loose.
None of the men I have ever been with
Could touch the bar set by my dad.
Among the boyfriend myriad you're fifth
You topped my dearest dad. I'm glad.
My heart is rocking. Can't believe it! Wow!
Your daughters have a hard time choosing...
I have to learn again to live the now.
They? They'd better get used to losing...
IF ever I had a country : XXIII-XXIV
XXIII
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were but the Home Secretary
I wouldn't sit on my baked beans doing my level-best to avoid responsibility
While waiting to pat myself on the back on Bastille Day down the Champs Elysée
I'd keep both public and pubic forces from running rampage on every refugee
But set about tidying the House with bleach to rid oath-taking secret skullduggery
That is, if ever I were but the Home Secretary
And even if I never ever had no country
XXIV
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were but the Interior Secretary
I'd neither arrogate nor take for granted Hobbes's Leviathan-authorised cruelty
I'd seek and demolish local townships' self-appointed chief mafiosi
Who undermine hotel-maids with virile World Bank authority
Who add to the You-Too Hall of Fame Hollywood-producer community
That is, if ever I were but the Interior Sec in Gay Paree
And even if I never ever had no country
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 10, 2018
A Polite Warning. The Following poem is somewhat steamy. Not explicit, but explicit in
inference. If this sort of thing offends you, then please be considerate and don’t read
it. Thank you.
Naked Flamenco
( A sultry summer night spent together
With ardour between us growing
She whispered, “Let me dance for you”
I agreed, little knowing………………. )
Binding spells of mysterious wanting
Soft dark her eyes looked
Into the shades of my mind
An enchantress of fantasy
She etched her velvet pattern
On veiled secrets
Parted
Dangerous lashes flutter desirous
In emerald peacock pupils
Midnight burnished hair let fall
In captivating tangles
To full ephemeral corners
Of soft bitten lip
Coy damp line drawn on her cheek
Captivated
Her expression acknowledges
With known provoking smiles
Eye lights shine saying “already mine”
With twisting flamenco poised
Sensual arm insinuates to finger tip
And eventide's rose is pale skinned
And naked
Curved line from ankle
Writes portents to the nape of her neck
Through black tousled sexual spinal blades
Shoulder dipping
Quivers her femininity to rising breasts
While arched longing
Mouths the indescribable tactile seconds
Of her promontory dancing
Patient in toe tip exquisite she places
Penchant elegance
Of her naked ballet
The ribbon swirl of vanished gossamer dress
Depicted wing-ed arms
She rises a surrealistic
Flight of angels created
In soft light air brushed forms
Of muscle, rib cage, bones and tendons
Body writhed centres eclipse
On pubic between
The epitome of gestalts navel breathing
I shudder Goosebumps of enthralling
Built by such grace of a heavenly
Consecrated female
Led beyond mere heated needing
To a place resplendent
With sheer un-tameable and un-nameable beauty
Guitar stringing twangs the milliseconds
Of her overture
Spanish castanets tap click fervent
Pronouncing the rhythm of my heart
Naked pale formed Goddess
Gently rips from me
Every appreciations confession of
Perfections contours
Fine satin sheen hairs risen
Beading sweats slight trickle
Aroused by my infatuation
Nipples stiffen
And I am drawn from and by
Heavy breath to music’s ending
To land in her presence
Panting
She has seen through me
Every century of a woman’s glory
And with a slow beckoning finger
Her eager eyes
Tell me
It is so
too many late nights out with who knows who
coming home and masturbating to a ***** instead of making love
slapping and pushing me around after coming home drunk
telling me you were out with friends smelling like purfume
lipstick stains around the whole on your boxer shorts
finding your wedding ring in the ashtray of the car
late night and early morning phone calls that you reject
calling out sick to work to sneak off with eyvette
finding the bed sheets on the floor with wet spots on them
blond pubic hairs on the toliet seat when yours are black
not taking me out in public in the daylight hours
screaming her name at me when we fought ooops you forgot
stealing money from our account to go and get high
then turn around and tell me its all a friggen lie
not going to my mothers funeral or my grandfathers too
abandoning me when i went to prison leaving me all alone
sleeping with my little sister and blaming it on the alcohol
leaving in one outfit returning two days later in something new
changing your cell phone number and not giving it to me
locking me out the house and calling the police
you creep
these are the many things i forgive you for
i love you so much i need this to say goodbye
love and forgiveness comes hand and hand
loving and knowing when to walk away is hell
..............................for the jim fish love and forgiveness contest...............................