Copulation Poems | Examples

Lingerie

lace like 
a barbed wire fence
the last line 
of defense
before everything 
becomes senseless 
again

for a while 
that feels like 
eternity 
and we don’t want 
to be anywhere else

don’t you look 
demure 
slipping casually 
out of it,
straps fall past 
your shoulders,
 
all that I dreamed 
the look in your eyes enough 
to set an army at attention,

what is it 
sex and war? 
is it in vulnerability,
passion and violence
of fighting? 
could be why wars last so long 
why there are always more after one is over

prolonged copulation
without conscience 
or lingerie.

WRITE A BEAT TO MYSELF- DEDICATED VERSE FOR SHASTA SIMMS Shasta Simms

In my recommendation of my syncopation 
Gathering of humanoids rhythmic sensations
 copulation dramatization rescape Rufus reggae beats

Ginuwine Drumline rat a tat tat 
attack on this yet you're all that 
Blilighten crest  muscles flex
myself being sweet to myself
 I can release by myself 
when I'm by myself
 I am the glory of the rhythm person above and below dancing in the streets walking
Attuned yet sleeping awaken in summers dream

I witness 
as I write this 
Boom a bout' a bing  drum beat
Tis beat mi rhythm my
Mine boom ta bangity crept 
As I, write a beat to myself
Booya

Eden Earthed Over

The apple fell already bitten upon,
a mossy soil coated where the tooth-cleaved.
Soon grubs worked their way out
of the pith
creating a teeming mulch.

Adam had fallen asleep again,
in his gut overripe grapes fermented
turning now to drunken snores.

The apple was changing, morphing,
the earth had gone into labor.
This had not happened in paradise before,
this was self-regeneration,
the copulation of dirt with air.

It was the flood of the moon;
Eve squatted. Her body was changing,
tidal rains washed her blood,
travail begot a tillage of arousal. 

Her belly swelled,
instinctively Adam built a nest
of straw, green shoots and saliva.

She grew large, gravid, a tad snappish.
she sensed deep in her belly
that this coming birth
would be both sour and dewy,

an innominate delivery for sure
riddled with good and bad seeds,
and she knew not what to call it.

Admirable New World An Irony

We came from

modernity for

teach beings

underdeveloped,

we found that

totally unhappy

are these retards

aliens

race scum

human... these

that segregated in

colonies where everything

happens equal to

 the ancient days...

live impure,

dirty,

accumulating garbage...

live persecuted

by bacteria,

infected by

promiscuous contacts:

touches,

hugs,

kisses and

mating...

Practices since

long time banned

in modernity...

these practices

are animal

atavistic fruit

addictions...

copulation and

dual enjoyment...

we all realize

that the enjoyment is

individual...

each one has

 his share of pleasure...

these addictions

prehistorics.

are so filthy

how to eat the

in opened air,..

or how they mix

Ingredients:

carbohydrates,

starches,

fats...

poor things!

unhappy that

survive

in thoughts

Out of reality of

Modern...

poor creatures

who still dare

practice love

 with body

  present...!

The Sex of Art

I think to draw, to paint, to write
is like copulation – for the artist
the need and desire
far outweigh any risks;

to control art
is to fail
as an artist – 
as to be a
predictable lover
is to be a complete
bore in bed....

The Serpent Moves

The serpent moves, drawn in by the current
Magnetised emptiness within present
Paths hot and cold are the two narrow grooves
Awakening our single eye sinews
Each node of form, in ecstasy content 

Central funnel enables quick ascent
Root to crown; beyond, if not hesitant
Energy balance, in the void ensues
The serpent moves

Divine yearning, within heart resident
Both beginning and end of sentiment
Cosmic egg in head splits! One becomes two
Copulation in heart, bliss throb renews
Our presence hallowed and luminescent 
The serpent moves

13-April-2021

Sexual Desires-4

~Sexual Desires~
I will not fear a single thing
Or any evil this existence can bring
So I won't ever hide in shame
I will always proudly shout my name

As insanity spreads through society
A lack of morality brings notoriety
Death flows freely in conjunction
While the masses drown in dysfunction

Although the dollar resulted in scheming
There are a few souls still worth redeeming
While we’re selling the innocence of truth
That’s stealing the beauty of our youth

Seems the price of physical copulation
Is absorbing the planets population
While casting us into eternal fires
With our animalistic sexual desires
(Book 4 ©1999) 
"The Journey Reviewing the Lessons"

When I wrote these words, I wanted a title that people would read in sort of a test- I posted 2 poems at the same time on my other writing site and waited 24 hours for the results. More than 85 people read this in one day, which was almost a record breaker for me- 32 people left a comment. The other poem had a religious title. Only 3 people read that one. It only had 1 comment. Hmmmm... God Bless and Best Wishes My Friends...Peace

Eden Unearthed

The apple fell to earth. It was bitten through
it rolled; mossy soil coated the tooth-cleaved part.
Already grubs were working their way out
of the pith creating a teeming mulch.

Adam had fallen asleep yet again.
the overripe grapes fermenting in his guts
turning to drunken snores.

It was the flood of the moon. 
Eve squatted behind a mulberry bush 
wishing she were more fair and slim 
like the angels in her dreams. Her body was changing, 
tidal rains washed her blood
and that travail begot spawning buds,
the tillage of arousal.

The apple was changing, dissolution morphing 
into beauty; the earth had gone into labor.
This had not happened in paradise before,
this was self-regeneration, death, and life, 
the copulation of dirt with air.

Eve’s belly swelled, growing as round and burnished
as an autumn apple. Instinctively Adam built a nest
of straw, green shoots and saliva.

She grew large, gravid, and snappish,
stamping her feet impatiently;
this birth would be a paradigm of progeny to come,
a dewy innominate offering
quilted from angelic and demon seeds
and she knew not what to call it.

Vbt Practice 45 of 112

This practice involving copulation seems taboo
Whilst all it asks of us to unendingly renew
Cessation of action just at the point of fructification 
Purity of intent choosing instead kundalini ascension

Or if the act ends in orgasmic climax of union
Breath should be retained within in celebration

No exhalation

For the puritans the practice asks for cessation
Between the urge to act and it’s actual culmination
In an aspect meditative 
Intuitive
The pause between cognition and association ...
The gap between memory recollection & anticipation ...

Disclaimer: 

Such is the practice in the scriptures so written
If it does not resonate we needn’t do as bidden 
Why on this meditation alone dwell
When we can choose from one hundred & twelve

And yet if we would know the truth stark
We should walk without fear in the dark

17-August-2020

Love Vs Lust

Love renders us to bloom.
Lust stifles us into gloom.

Feeding food with care is love.
Surrendering body for hunger is lust.

Cajoling for copulation everyday not knowing 
the mood of the girl is pure lust.
Accepting the denial of her with smile portrays love.

Smoldering looks stirs the heart:
where in,
Implosion becomes love.
Explosion becomes lust.

Kissing from heart is love.
Fondling from persuasion is lust.

Thus,
Love gives happiness.
Lust kills happiness.

LUST~
Salacious skin always luring to commit the sin.
Hurried lips keeps exploring in hunger to devour the forbidden fruit to seek pleasure, incurring pain.

LOVE~
Penetrating the eyes with delicate gaze,
And thrusting the heart with tender care 
paints pure love.

Me:
When you always intend to have coitus..Where comes the love?
Does making love promote love or lust?!

Soul:
If it is exceeds a restricted limit it is supposed to be called lust and not love.

Finally, I would compare love to a soft petal and lust to a spine.

3-7-2020

Note:Love or Lust Poetry Contest
Sponsored by D.W.Rodgers.

Miscellaneous Rants

Militate on one another with great passion
the nonperson,
The fusty one.
Nothing fancy, delightful or bonvivant
Having a genteel attitude, but impassible
Vagabond. Loner. Prodigious.
Yet no blandishment.
Complicated as a merman
Porous because of mutilation
The obsequy closed with an
Elegy
Rigmarole.  Rigmarole.  
Not the booby hatch which
hosts may
The railroad tied on knots.
Big as an intrusive blunt forced
object
The copulation of blood and oxygen
Wins over the slightly manipulated mind.
From inside, out
Hapless haploids creating the uselessness of existence
Making, permanently each place
devoured
Feeling the blades and molar impressions piercing through each layer.

Savvy Sabbath Service

Lead us NOT into temptation
Just deliver copulation
You may think it odd
That we pray to God
But 'tis caused by desperation!

Tales of Idolatry

Do not weep do not mourn
Do not move like a pawn
Back into his tight grasp
For that mans like an asp

Cleopatra is gone thanks
To his venomous pranks
Oh the fatal bite
Delivered so trite

Vipera aspis, get lost
You too, Naja Haja, tossed
Like a common adder
Becoming cannon fodder

Vipera berus berus
All green eyed, jealous
Follows the woman around
Copulation one bound

To lose in mating season
The dance of the adders, reason
No rear up, push his head under
Else, white flag it, blunder

Hesitant Recoil

For this contest I’m asked to abide by the rules

and thus I sit and pen my thoughts obediently

but cannot check the renegade’s sweet rebellion


Limit cussing and cursing:
	
               however I am told that people who swear are profound not profane


No erotic poetry:
	
               but once Eros is tamed Thanatos prevails says a slippery Freudian


New poem:
	
               yet life is a cycle and true stories have no beginning


Date name and sponsor:
	
               A fig leaf instead to hide sensual muse
	
               Cursory token when flipping salvation
	
               Blame the prompter for devious words


Is imprecation blasphemous?

Is romance risqué is erogenous lewd?

Concession for praise where it belongs!


Conclusions:

I vow to wash my mouth with lubricant . . .

Copulation extrapolates couplets and rhymes . . .

I’m grateful for rulers because they help with the lines . . .



30th May 2019

Contest: What makes you flinch

Sponsor Julie Leigh Rodeheaver

The Old Last Act

The #Old-Last-Act, Act I, Scenes 1 - 13

Anticipation
Expectation
A flirtation
Titillation
Osculation
Masturbation
Perturbation
Copulation
Consumation
Ejaculation
Expiration
And prostration
Termination

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