Best Pubic Poems


Cursin' U Out

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
Categories: pubic, black african american, urban,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member La Maja Desnuda and La Maja Vestida

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**.
Categories: pubic, art,
Form: Ekphrasis

Premium Member A Grand Carlyle Residue Via 1989

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
Categories: pubic, change, character, culture, emotions,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Making a Wrong Turn

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
Categories: pubic, gender, perspective, society, wisdom,
Form: Ode

Premium Member Erotica - Goya Style

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
© Julia Ward  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: pubic, art, image,
Form: Verse

Dear Wambo

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
Categories: pubic, africa, cancer, care, dedication,
Form: Sonnet


Premium Member Freedom of Choice

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
Categories: pubic, anti bullying, conflict, corruption,
Form: Political Verse

Eerie Generosity

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
Categories: pubic, fun,
Form: Limerick

A Man Like You

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...
Categories: pubic, for him, heartbreak, love
Form: Lyric

One Last Goodbye

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...............................
Categories: pubic, forgivenessme, home, forgiveness, home,
Form:

Desert Head

Desert Head
The tales they told of ole sailor Fred,
Had skin-grafts a grafted on top of his head,
To keep out the baldness, a triangular patch,
Touch of a p smell coming, perhaps,
 with the new hairy faerie thatch,
stay upwind & have a care,

They
Hand grafted his pubic hair,
The curly stuff sort-ov a growing there,
no cause for blinking despair,
like a new turf a growing instead,
on yester-years billiard ball head,
there goes Freddy the Lair * : }-  
tuit sweet, complete with new hare, 
 and the curls begot curls, so they said,

{pretty boy}

Don Johnson
Categories: pubic, adventure,
Form: Ballad

Naked Flamenco

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
Categories: pubic, girlfriend-boyfriend, love, mystery, passionlonging,
Form: Free verse

In the Sixties

that's the one, the glorious fun, 
my first gorgeous slow sex, in
a kitchen, while borsch was cooked

that's the one, the Beatles the kaftans, 
the hair, the kinky-boots along the street,
and hash smoked in chilly twilight, as the
pouting police drove by;

that's the one, the decade, the one hundred 
and twelve months, no fame, living in the shade
and getting drunk and laid, and not understanding 
love or "feelings", or how the world was made

that's the one, my decade, with black pubic hair
(now turned white) and cigarettes and ale and songs 
of Ireland and America, sung glorious in group of
horny-handed boys; on into the night

that's the one, the only decade, with leather waistcoats,
Levi jeans, Picasso, Art Pepper and fake jumping beans;

just sell me this glory, this knight-bloated fiction, your
drama and expertise, like Benny goodmnan on his trapeze

and now fifty years gone by, I've travelled on, to pastures, 
loans and mobile, dancing phones; rebellious off-spring now 
in tow, their decade, beginning the same, steamy, furtive show;

and when the bus of doom draws close, and the angel asks 
me,"where to go?", I'll trip my fingers on his bow, saying,
 "through the sixties, please take me slow,"
Categories: pubic, adventure, appreciation, emotions, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member If Ever I Had a Country : Xxiii and Xxiv

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
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: pubic, anti bullying, betrayal, cinco
Form: Dramatic Monologue

How It Went Down

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
Categories: pubic, money, political,
Form: Couplet
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