The heat of summer in his dad's car
The son takes his date to gaze a star
Lover's lane shines on so bright
Two teenagers groins take flight
It was Dad's Chevy's best years by far
Smell of scent, tiger rage inside
Touch of heart, loving depths of soul
The feel of your skin bare in the mist
Slick as the moisture runs, gleaming shine
I feel you in darkness, shiver of love's fire
Longing to be devour your eager thirst
Beneath the moon ray pushing through glass
Candle flickers like a spirit flows
The soul hungering for touch love cries
To feel passion of penetration is wetness
To feel like you deep inside someone skin
Wanting to be deeper, just crawl inside
Love's fire burning your groins ever desire
A taste of your juices my excite erotica
As if you can feel temperature rise
Hitting it harder, beads of sweat droplets converge
Upon our bodies pounding emotion to explosion
Your heart race breathless times passing
Inside, love for sex or partner we share
Doing the wild thing, it's a natural instinct
Only love's fire turn you on as good as me
Smile... you just got teased
You remind me of some man
Tall, dark and ... Ah! May.
His wallet was a handful dripping
His masculine hands were short with
a bright, cheerful face
His speech was deep,
Brain full yet racing
Well organised and viper canning
His lips oozed out of wisdom after knowledge
He had pulled legions of followers.
Women, yet most girls, were his sweet pie
He loved to chill within
Excited to cool the wind at devil's best hours
You remind me of someone
whose well-known name to them fame chasing
He knew his value on his groins
The strength he gems with idolatry
Those dresses, I pity them
Whoever got the comfort around his chains,
Volant, who could spot the red dot
His nose knew no scent, not as any normal person would
Blinded by his ego, swollen viz pizza bread,
He would mention the name of a woman to a girl
Too stubborn to his wasteful quest
A big blast in baggy boisterous hearts
As a charismatic charming chap I chant choruses
Seeing sisal spinning splendid systematic samples
Taken, I mask mistakes making massive moves
I divert, ditch disrepute in disputed dating dates
Shafts of shame shackled short lived shining
Bestowing beasts bearing bulky burdens
Tearing love tags tapped to the tail.
Growing grief gets God giving good gifts!
Realistic remorseful ritual reaps recognition
Dull decision depicting doom deepens dejection
Woman with wits wish wise way
Pick promise pulling permanent peace
Bind body and bloody base before blasting breast
Crispy crystal from crude crooks cry
From foreground formation to foundation
Spicy silky sweets see stars
God's grace: grab generous groins
Before burden burst, brutally burning.
Part I: Sin
Mariah of Magdala
The cursed one among women
Better that you were not born
The one full of black evil
Queen of prostitutes
None of modest can be traced in you
Yet men still Adour you
They still come crawling even in black dark
They do not care if day is scorching bright
Neither if its black pitch in deep groovy woods
They hunt you from the cave you hide
When they smell your shadow Mariah
They cannot hold on their dripping appetite
That made wet their groins
What charm are you using Mariah!
Why don’t you share with other women?
Do you want all the men to yourself Mariah?
Our legs intertwined between thick blankets.
Early sunlight kisses our eyes lightly, pleading for our awaking.
Your eyelashes gingerly flutter as the impurity of my hands travel down your thighs.
My fingers purposely brushing against your rose petals.
I taste the familiar fragrance in which my mouth craves deeply.
As much as I worship your body that sends
a passionate flame into my groins
nothing can also compare to your dark fashioned skin
soothingly breathing the name of autumn.
Your head full of spirals of dark curls that put
the highly praised blond hair to shame.
I press kisses across your sharp jawline creating
a spell of love no such magic can reverse
Your coffee painted eyes are my only source of caffeine.
One can be fully simulated by such a stare.
When you decide to wake from the world of dreams
I promise to reveal to you our flawless daydream.
They are all over me! See my ankles, my loins and my groins....
This one along my chest, most ugly, uh?
And the one across my tummy?
How can you call me beautiful?
May be if this mirror is a damned liar.....
I used to detest them but now I love
them.
I love scars.
I love my scars.
They tell a story.
They tell my story
Better and clearer than none could.
That I am a fighter, a warrior, a
survivor, an overcomer and a story
teller.
I love scars.
I love my scars!
Everytime you discover
a new black hole;
someone crosses the border
and starts crying.
Thread weaved in and out
of tapestry. You were nailed
to the wall, which never
had any doors.
Why were you not a mackintosh ?
You scripted strangely, talking
of an open world. You smell
a war between the poems-
in a book. There was no ad hoc
pain in groins. Your boney
nose went to find the peat moss
in the jungle of sandalwoods.
Satish Verma
Torrero sans l’aide de Picador
Such artful courage sans pareil :
Gored in the loins
No need to shout who Bad Guys stand for
Mean lances of the Picador slay
Split Toro groins
Speak not of Bad Guys in the same breath
As of fighting bulls and bull-fighters :
Can courage die
Seek not Bad Guys’ ultimate death
Shakespeare says they ever die blighters :
Let cowards lie
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
How will you measure the wide
gulf between words and hyphens ?
The apostrophes will give you
restrain and isolation.
The predators will sit and
wait for the fallouts. The night
was your domain to start
sinning; in erasing the numbers.
The midnight grief during the
assault of moon. Were you ready
to unmask the hidden inter-
polator ? The merciless thrush ?
Candidiasis ? It was eating
away your smell, your taste
and moments of glimpses
of the fire in the groins.
Satish Verma
A brisling terror
tormenting the kelp.
Give me a lamenting mast
that will not go, fall.
In the groins
holding a promise,
a crazy god lowers
the wheel.
The absolute alcohol
in your nerves, you
want to light the
candle.
Smashing a dark
hole, which leads
to the brown
Mars
Satish Verma
You are a woman, with numerous names –
Whore,
Harlot,
Courtesan,
Street Walker,
Concubine,
Lady of the night,
Prostitute,
a sex worker???
Bird of prey -
eyed by predator pimps,
numerous numb nights
spent in bleak brothels,
flocked like cattle in filthy sheds,
Time-etched face -
worn-out profane beauty
concealed in mask of makeup
lures lewd customers
to satiate their lusty appetite
in the jungle of devouring groins.
Whirr of rickety wall-fan drowns in
cacophony of coughing customers
caricature of intercourse doodled on cracked walls
painted with betel-nut spatter stains…
Blemished ruffled bed and
stink of semen-soiled sheets
mingles with fumes of cheap liquor
and whiff of stale cigarette stubs.
Your wasted life –
a snapshot of soiled images,
a tarnished tapestry -
smeared and smudged
with sexually transmitted diseases.
sheds tears of anger, hurt and deceit
for the relics of
dreams of a dignified life…
I would rather call you -
Mother of manifold miseries
Sister of silent sufferings
Daughter of decaying despair
Wife of worldly woes!
Yes, you are still to me -
a woman with numerous names
and weeping eyes…
The lotus
of our passion
blossomed, petal by petal,
blushing pink,
caressed by moist misty morning-dew,
encircled by the amorous bees
buzzing in honey-sweet intoxication!
Musky smell of sweat slithers in the
valley of your bosom’s cleavage,
heaving my dizzy head
in the comfort of your lavish lap,
while waterfall of your brunette tresses
cascade on my flushed face.
Random jingles of your silver anklets
tickle my eager ears,
and my kisses linger
slowly sipping the sensuous wine.
from the chalice of your luscious lips!
As I open the curtains of your person.
my butterfly fingers flutter, in anticipation.
Bathing in diaphanous fog of bashfulness,
your nakedness envelopes mine -
and I wear you like my second skin
in hunt of hidden treasures
of physical pleasures!
Snakes of sensuality slither
in the burrows of engulfing groins
as we plunge into pits of rhapsody.
A stunning spectrum of erotic illusions
radiates in kaleidoscopic delirium
and our confluence bursts into
climax of charismatic colours…
Animalistic Love
How can I describe making love to you?
So many words I would like to use
Love to use
I know they are offensive to some
Maybe some have never experienced such passion
Others may have but not known the words to describe it
In that dark room with the curtains drawn
We found worlds beyond our own in every touch
There was a choir singing above
Yet they could not drown our primitive screams
There are so many words out there
Used in normal conversation around the world
They should be used since the passion was there
Animalistic instincts from pre-ancient times
Before man was man
Before moralistic views came into play
The instincts are still there
Raging as a fire deep within out groins
Yet, modern sensitivity limits the words describing those emotions
The raging passion will never be restricted by others
That one moment of total sharing
What words can tell of those pure feelings?
How can I describe making love to you?
I can’t!
A fallen villain;
Slayer of the innocent and lover of pain;
A gifted mystic who prostituted the endowments of Nature,
And thus drunk her cup of fury with mysterious pleasure.
Sharks found a rare meal of flesh and blood
That they would not have had,
Thanks to the seasond American commandos
Who supplied so full its dose.
With a huge sigh I mark your simple end,
And still mourn your complex trend
That maimed bouyant lives of both young and old.
Some you may meet in hell and seek revenge hundredfold;
Others yet shall forgive you as they dine in paradise.
My condemning cry does now rise:
May Satan, your treacherous mate,
Scold your brow with utmost hate,
For he has no ally when his mission's done;
Let him torch your groins and your hairs burn!
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