Best Titty Poems
She’s too titty to be a preacher.
She can’t even bead a rook.
A rental deceptionist? Maybe.
At my teeth she once look a took.
As a wean clerker, she’ll never do.
I once caught her nicking her pose.
She doesn’t even hash her wands.
And she chews the tails off her nose!
For this lad sass, I see joe knob.
No mouse or honey has she.
Her life has not one pun fart!
I’m glow sad I’m shot knee.
Written march 25, 2016 for the Contest of Roy Jerden
Aunt Maureen burnt her huge left titty
She giggled, I don’t need any pity
I can still balance cups
On my pink pert pups
Hands free, I can now stroke my kitty
3/12/20
Twas the nite before and all through the house, everyone lustful even the mouse
I in my towel and her in a thong
No way in hell this night could go wrong
Then out in barn there arose such a clatter
Boobs and nuts flying we went to see what was the matter
And what to our lustful eyes do we see
But eight naked women with a santa hat just for me
So sat down i did filled with such pride
If only on me they all wanted to ride
With a titty here and ass over there
My girl with her thong yea i didnt even care
So as i settled into what i believed was a dream
With a smile that was brighter than the brightest light beam
Now you wonder what could possibly happen to make this any better
Although i got harder she got wetter
Let me enlighten you for much to my dismay
The next instant i was bound and forced to watch them play
My dick rose quick i must admit
But not one came over and offered to sit
As i was fixin to complain in my most persuasive tone
I saw my girl and the toys she was being shown
Her eyes lit up and she made her choice
Next all i heard was an odd strange little voice
Next to my ear was whispered watch as she enjoys
Watch as we stretch her with those enormous toys
Then what in this fantasy dream of mine would happen
Those eight naked women were between her legs lappen
Stroke for stroke they each shared equally
I came so fast yet they never even touched me
Finished with her they start to come my way again
And Just as my luck would have it i chose to wake up right then
So now each christmas eve i close my eyes tight and fast
Thinking maybe the dream would return and i wouldnt cum so fast
Every christmas morning turns out sadly the same
I wake up still horny with no one to blame
Anchor down, wind at ease all the sailors out to please, one by one they step off deck and into the arms of who knows heck.
For a night of drinking, a fist full of titty, and a bottle of good ole smitty, to drowned out their long and grueling lives and sink in pity by those beer goggled cuties who in the end get their share of good ole boys that breathe the sea as if it where air, waiting for someone who's never there, just to care.
By Leah Munoz
Pen name (Leloo Pair)
The diesel locomotive wailed
Like a sick bull as it approached
The intersection; five bellows.
The dreaded traffic light turned red
And all of us just sat waiting
For this snail-like, slow-moving
Freight train to pass, while the traffic
was backing up to infinity.
Life becomes a standstill in time:
If your appendix burst, pray to god;
If you’re in labor, tough titty;
If late for work, you curse and swear!
So you wait and count the freight cars...
One hundred one…one hundred two…
Onward west they roll
Swaying, screeching, click-clanking
Along rusty tracks.
Hey, this poem is about something very specific. It's
gonna make a clever observation with a wry little
punchline right at the end, right before the Kool-Aid Man
breaks through the wall oh yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
We had a kitty with three kinds of spots,
They were black, orange with pretty white socks;
Titty Von Tittzenburg was her name,
But Titty the Kitty was her fame.
A house is not home with no pussy cat,
One that curls up on a rug or a mat.
She looked older than her seven years,
But loved someone scratching behind her ears;
She'd swirl back and forth with a yearning wish,
Meowing loudly for a plate of fish.
She's got nine lives and will live forever,
As she stalks the house looking so clever;
Looking for mice is her favorite game,
And the mice she finds are never the same.
She has to take them outside to eat,
And when done all that's left is a tail and the feet,
Then sitting with a smile on satisfied lips,
She stalks off with a swaying of hips.
But best of all is when she curls up to purr,
Then I snuggle up to cuddle with her.
For Francine's Pick a Pet Contest.
July 7, 2011
I need meat on Valentine ’s Day
A Love Sausage was on display
We will eat one tonight
And to hubbies delight
Much later he will get a lay
But hubby keeps pestering me.
To see my ‘pasties’ after tea.
I will give him some hassle.
About my titty tassle,
Cos they are not very comfy
I admit, yes I have to confess,
A love sausage brought from M & S,
Is a valentines treat,
Cos I do love my meat,
And there’s ‘pasties’ under my dress!
Fictional Poem For Libralori who loves eating Croissant's, thanks for the inspiration!
*M & S is a British Store, they are selling 'love sausages' for Valentine's Day
02/14/22
Well it's colder than a witch's titty out there
and I can't find a damn thing to wear...still hung
over from last night’s drinkin' like a fish and
I still can't remember the name of the stranger
in my bed but I'm running late for work. Too bad
I still have to brush my teeth and fix my hair
oh yeah and I gotta remember to feed the cat
God I wish I had A Cat's Life 'cuz mine is cozy,
has no worries and can sleep all day...that's just
not fair, I wish I Had A Cat's Life...anyways wake
up whoever you are and get dressed while I go
start my car...leave your name and number and
maybe I'll call you sometime today maybe but
right now I really can't say I'm an hour late and
it ain't even daylight...God this just ain't fair
I wanna A Cat's Life, I Wanna A Cat's Life!
UNSUPPORTED CODE
Loving Brothers
Hand hitting the face
Red burning titty twisters
Throbbing charley horse
Bone braking grizzly bear hug
“Now, do you submit?, . . . . ”Uncle!”
Behold, the Valiant Spirit! housed in a young vibrant body;
A litty like a titty;
Endowed with telepathy;
In this age of complexity.
I marvel at your smile that makes the day bright;
Your soft words that infuse strength;
And your words so refined.
Indeed, you're one of a kind.
Oh Valor!
Uphold thy honor
That those who seek for thy favor
May have a new experience to savor.
Folks, listen when he speaks.
Friends, feel the dimples on his cheeks;
For he smiles like a dove
And his heart like the blue sky above.
Dedicated to myself -Ejire Michael (Mikky-Prince)
On Saturday night in the city
The seamen are looking for Titty
But sly as a fox
She gets off their rocks
Proving it pays to be pretty
Smashed up against the wall it
Shat ter ed
in
to
tin
y
pi ec es.
My m
i
n d
is splintered broken,
never to be put back together again
S as in
P as in pratt
L as in love and lust
A as in ashes
T as in tampon, tarnished, tainted, titty titillation, Tshirt dishing up all the dirt until it hurt cassie, cassandra, cossetted ,cosy crap – yes that is exactly what I want to say cassie, cassandra, bert, burk, berk, twerp.
Today is all about words
seehowtheyflow.
Lately they have been very elusive, evading, hiding in the archives on my mind.
I reach in as they rush to the back squashing up tightly against the backwall fearful of being caught.
Once said they are exposed,
out there.
I can tell they are present, I know they have been here before, but for now they hide in the shadows of the mental cerebral crypt. Pretending not to exist but their footprints are cemented in my memory
distant though they may be.
Images, concepts, incidents, instances – a moment shared, a moment in time all translated into words.
Memory, remember, memorise, recall, compos mentis
brain cells once young, fresh, active, bright, receptive, recollection sharp, vivid - now slow grey sluggish closed old
dying.
A ditty to my titty
There you are upon my chest
You used to be the boob I loved best
But now all you do is cause me grief
I just need a moments relief
But you would rather swell and cause me pain
Make my skin itch again and again
This journey so far , has been too long
I’m starting to think we don’t belong
To add insult to injury there’s a wound that won’t heal
I’m forced to wear dressings-I’m sick of this deal!
This wound has ruined nearly all of my bras
I think this issue has gone too far!!
Now my skin is attacking me
Itch itch scratch scratch
please just let me be!!
So here it is- a ditty to my titty
I beg you please- stop being so ty
Repast for June 13th, 2020...
(and countless provender
scores of years gone by)...
to partake larding refrigerator cupboards
think respectable food vendor.
Courtesy Montgomery County
(Pennsylvania) Assistance Office in general
and Electronic Benefit Transfer
(EBT) card in particular.
Yes, I (a mere tenderloin) reckonize
a long overdue thank you
wouldrequiremorethanone breath whew
but a clear and
distinct preference necessitates
easy to read and understand view
versus merely typing gobbledygook,
which would invite
yours truly typing Urdu
(which language I know
absolutely nothing about... true)
but lack of familiarity
never stopped me stew
wing anonymous readers
with ire, now I rue
men hate, yepper after
forcing anonymous readers
to wade, née (nearly drown)
into thicket of quo
titty yen verbiage, invariable
coming across as po
i.e. half assed poet,
whose self impressive smugness
amounted to diddly squat,
thee immediate answer
obviously, an emphatic,
Italic, unchic... "NO"
quite surprised if
"PLEASE SIR, I WANT MO!"
your unequivocal response,
which counter reply "LO
AND BEHOLD" would
casually follow suit ya know,
cuz all kidding aside,
yours truly (me), an average Joe
King garden variety,
and generic bot ready
for thee to interview
me, ultimately, preferably,
and ideally hue
not linkedin to
those awful *****sapiens
though... as a baby going goo
goo gaga, they seem
exclusive as Fontainebleau
(Area: 66.43 mi²)
regarding comprehending et tu
probably agree, that babies
create an abundance of do do
unapproachable as motley crew
who stoically man/woman
aforementioned French town
southeast of Paris where
sun shines every day,
and sky always blue.