He smiled with an unpleasant sneer
that turned out a lascivious leer.
When her t-shirt came off
with a violet cough,
she was left standing in her brassiere!
TRUMP ACROSTICALLY ICING OUR LIBERTY
Tenacious
Ruler
Under
Mendacious
Power
Inoculating
Criminal
Injustice—
Negating
Graciousness—
Obnoxiously
Usurping
Righteousness:
Lascivious bold
Injustice barbarically
Blasting constitutional
Equal rights,
Raucously murdering
Tenacious free,
Yearning victims:-
Eyelash flashes and soft, sultry, hips
Languid, lascivious, seductions
Hot lust drips from sweet, lump-luscious, lips
Intimate, discriminate, influx-ions
Fast fingertips and slow gyrating hips
A night of lascivious influx-ions
Took one last sweet kiss from the sweetest of lips
Now no more discriminate seductions
My country, it is not the sweet Portugal
AND yet I love Fado, the wine of the Douro,
My country is not beautiful Italy, nor Rome,
And yet I love Naples, Palermo, and Florence,
It’s not Haiti or Salvador de Bahia,
It’s the Dolce Vita and Eight and a half, in black and white,
I like all the films by Fellini or Antonioni,
My country, it is not the illustrious talkative France
AND yet I like Jurançon and Monbazillac,
I like beef bourguignon and duck with orange,
My country, it’s not California, or Utah,
AND yet I like Monument Valley, Hollywood Boulevard,
I love the Grand Canyon and Los Angeles at night,
My country, it is not so political Turkey,
But I love Istanbul and sleepy Cappadocia,
It’s the Dolce Vita and Eight and a half, in black and white,
My country is the cinema, it’s the privileged place
Where will the train stop from your indolent and black eyes,
It is beyond, the bridge of lascivious embraces, the bridge of the Iroise
It’s the country I like when you play for me alone, O my action.
NB La Dolce Vita and eight and a half, are two masterpieces by Fellini.
How many pages
Did you flip through
Of mine?
That I was written
With the embodiment
Of everything you deify?
Trying to picture me
Gliding
Through your mind
A kaleidoscope
Of innocence
In a dress
Where I share poems
Written about you
At 2am
And I am
Weaved together in your arms
Like the blanket your mom made me
Kissing my cheek
Until
I laugh
And our last kiss
For the night
Leaves the taste of you behind
Months old
Cherry chapstick
That lives in your favorite pair of jeans
My written word
Depicted me
perfectly
The soft
Smile on your face
Said it all
But the contradiction
From
Your tongue
The sweet
Sensitive love letters
You gave me
Was harder
For me
To swallow
Than the adrenaline
You could not control
When you felt my touch
I am inured
Whole heartedly
To the men
Patching up
Voids in their lives
With being lascivious
Their books
Always
Know how to catch your eye
Yet
They are always
Missing the last few pages
But I keep
Rereading them
As if the ending will change
Staring at her reflection in
chatoyant mirrors, learning my
last blessings, creeping past
poltergeists during marauder
inspections while I transcribe
her flesh on caesura, pleading
with the Pleiades for soprano
notes to stay on his alto clefs,
hanging gardens in her image
Ombrielle mistress,
Black Narcissus as my witness —
Extravagant, solivagant nymphs
born from lascivious river spirits
want to hear their voices Echo
in mountain cliffs, carried
by arid winds to places
gods’ garments are ripped,
convicting the Prince
Crown of gold curls in rainbow wrappers.
Girly-girl, at two, favored to be beautiful.
Eyelids delight to be painted baby-girl green.
Dolly’s lascivious lashes soaked in black ink.
Innocent strawberries dot baby-blue sleeveless top.
Soon, she’ll be strapless, primping at the vanity.
For now, she holds a mirror with her eyes closed;
her reflection not quite perfected; a natural blush
of lips, cherub-cheeks and baby-fat skin. Shedding
the green, pink, yellow rollers with angel hair bouncing
off her shoulders, and rolling out the hourglass figure
with a perfect pout and hips that shout ‘look at me.’
Indeed, at two years old, she looks in the mirror,
smiles, as her mother approves, and daddy sits
in his easy chair, not knowing to be bothered by
the impending storm of unsuitable guys at the door.
Passion can be a somewhat lustful animal.
When it feeds continuously, it will . . . eventually
tire of the type of sustenance for which it used to yearn.
Its constant engorgement consumes the very longing
for what once had spurred it on,
for romantic passion can only subsist mainly on fresh flesh
and it inevitably ends.
If romantic passion is wise,
it will reinvent itself, evolving into a deeper breed of love -
something more trusting, comfortable, and true.
Sadly, romantic passion is often mistaken
for the very thing which it needs so badly to change into,
thus ending in disillusionment and a craving something new.
Happily, however, the creature passion can rekindle the enthusiasm
for its old diet – though not ever as frequently as it had in the past.
There is a different passion - a lascivious obsessive beast
which, when deprived of what it longs for
or denied control of what it thinks it owns,
will stifle or stalk its prey, and kill any chance
for real love to ever begin at all.
An Ode to Love
(A lone voice whispers)
Is Love
Like one
Finding a South Philippine Dwarf Kingfisher
One of the World's
Rarest birds
A much-welcome visitor
To see and treasure
Sunbathing in the sun
Or two
Does it sometimes
Fly high
Like an extraordinary Golden Eagle
Over all emotional
Physical or Spiritual
Battlefields
As it goes-to-war
With family
Friends
Religion or politics
For true love never
Yields
Or three
is it just like a form of
Fast Love
That just runs
Jumps out the door and hits the road
Looking for a new lascivious episode
After its heavy load
Explodes
When it's had its fun
And finally,
Which one have you experienced
Did love find you or betray you
Like Judas Iscariot?
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Come quick. I’ve a limerick ‘bout a hick
Christened Billy Bop Be-bop; now his dick
It was sort of gigantic
Daisy thought it romantic ~
Though one look at it and Daisy got sick
Along came a fine feline named Morris,
Lured by lilt of lascivious chorus;
He crouched inside the cage,
Appetite to assuage -
Patiently he purports to ignore us.
Glitzy, Vegas-style seductive dancers
Lascivious lancers' lances
Glam and rock in hilarious fashion.
Quintessentially Parisian
Paris Crazy Horse, the most avant-garde
Enticing and sensuous dance and song concord
A fantastic cardio exercise that makes you sweat
Each wagers to sweat out the greatest
Well-crafted jokes, mockeries, and ridicules
There are arrayed dance arcades with rules.
Fall in love with this incredibly lovely present.
To the fullest extent possible, you will live in the moment.
Lost inside passion
with burning desire
Vision refocused
in tunnels of fire
Screams of delirium
christen the night
Darkness a metaphor
tainted delight
One then another
the virgins do fall
Lascivious demons
unleashed in the hall
Till daybreak approaches
new light on the way
The beast back in harness
—this evening to stray
(The New Room: January, 2024)
.
Threesome
twosome
wantsum
*simply the muse friendz
but funny y'all ;)
("wantsum" is my own
portmanteau...wanton&sum)
ORIGIN OF WANTON 1
WANTON [ won-tn ]
First recorded in 1250; Middle English wantowen, literally,
[adj.] “undisciplined, ill-reared”
[noun] a lascivious person (in this write; persons)
there once was a man of great ambition
who pretended to be a physician
his intent lascivious
she was not oblivious
he’s serving 20 to life in prison
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