Libidos Poems | Examples

beautiful dancing girl

amazing beauty enthralls and excites
a curly haired dancing girl
shaking up libidos

The Summoning

(A mystic whispers)

Through this scrying mirror 

Be it by
Eyes, Touch, Paper, or Phone

Let my power 
Melt your heart of stone

Through
Wind, fire, wave, and sea

I see you
Are you ready to atone

Can you feel me 
Rolling in

Like green moss
Creeping across
Warm wet skin

So you can absorb me 
More

To open wide
All your mind's closed doors

To let me in
So long nights
Can begin

With Earth warmed
By new shadows 
Borne

Open up so I can linger within 
Until dawn

Willing heat to rise up
Like young pawns

Called to fight
In Winter's War of Emotions

So prepare well

Summer Solstice is coming soon
On the 21st of June 

A rebirth
A time of new beginnings and spells

With me and you
Engaging in deep breathing 

In hot bedrooms, 
Wallpapered in sinning and yells

Where old feelings flee
With the ringing of our libidos bells

To be swept away

By sweet cries of a new renaissance that will never stop

And be replaced by new psyops

As all your resistance 
Drops

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Passion

Ardor feels are divine
Bodies erotically entwine
Caresses eagerly connect
Desires meet to intersect 
Emotions feed passion
Fondlings sassy fashion
Gasps praise movement
Hearts pump excitement 
Intimate whispers tingle
Joining lips mingle
Kisses feed desire
Loins share ardor’s fire
Moving hips enthuse
Needy bodies fuse  
Outcries express zeal
Pleasure pulses appeal
Quenched libidos slake
Ravenous wants take
Silk sensuality grooves
Tantalize rhythm moves
Unleashed hunger plunders 
Velvet kisses thunder
Waves ebb and flow pleasure
Xanadu houses flesh treasure
Yearnings flame with lust
Zing intensifies thrust

Bedtime Stories

A page turns in a bodice-ripping book.

Ladies wanting to escape
into a different romance
from their snoring spouse
read in bed,

it is then 
when heads hit pillows,
that libidos takes flight

female tingles;
a thrilling novel,
a body
to be read only at night.

Libation

Laminated libidos
Liquidate lovelorn longings
Lunar Lycanthropes

The Morning After a Night of Mania

Like an artist with canvas, paint, and brush,
     how then to illustrate (for you) in words
and in rhyme the throes of a bipolar rush?     
     For bookish and reserved, but manic, nerds
(like me), when I'm touched I'm inclined to gush

     all over myself (for the pretty girls,
who'd blush like brides on their first wedding night;
     as I flirtatiously finessed the twirls
of their sex-starved libidos with delight).

     Yet the morn welcomed me with news of disgrace,
for I had acted the Lothario
     with a Gorgon of a maiden:—whose face 
was that of the Medusa's, the Gorgo!

     To think, that I was so glad to escape:
     seeing her with sober mind, I was agape!?

Sour Libido

It left me sour 
the realities 
of the hidden 
man within 
the abode 
of every 
single soul 
in-dweller 
Seated on 
the high 
glorified 
lecherous 
city debauchery 
Attacks even 
In every eyes 
Closed for a 
Sleep and mess 
up sour libidos 
You may not 
Understand it 
But it is a sour 
Thing indaboski

Wine and Roses

Youthful days of wine and roses
are illusions, tethered to hope.
For shards of broken promises
oft clip the wings of fledgling hearts.

When trickling tears begin to flow,
they swell the tides of self-pity.
And you entertain multitudes
of disparaging emotions.

Taking a moment, you reflect
upon the innocence of youth.
And the intimate, sexual
side of love that stirs libidos.

You recall first falling in love;
and how remarkable it felt.
And yet, it didn't last forever,
that feeling soon abandoned you.

You felt love slip through your fingers
like cascading grains of loose sand.
And watched happiness morph into
a morbid melancholy mood.

Stiletto Blues

She pauses, slender figure poised on
slenderer heels,

five inches of coquetry
ready to duet with
fifty feet of parquetry,

play a wicked staccato on
dinner-jacketed libidos.

Then she pushes open the double door
to find a newly carpeted floor.

Hope Resonates

Youth doesn't stop to question if love is true,
they're eager to ignite passion's flame.
For; the need to belong outweighs their fears,
a desire so strong it's hard to ignore.

Sweethearts blinded by the aura of love
shun all reason as darkness zeros in.
For; the dazzling prospects of make-believe
tickles libidos; and mutes silent screams.

Doubt dissects happiness, exposing truths,
as reality tears your hopes apart.
And your heart bears the scars of betrayal
inflicted by promises, stripped of lies.

The hurt that love offers is troublesome,
debatably, more to shun than embrace.
And yet, under the surface of mistrust,
hope resonates with the beat of your heart.

Her Slow Burn-Dance

In the burlesque hall
she takes center stage;
as the audience
seeds their applause with
wolf-whistles and jeers.

Behind feathered fans
she starts her striptease;
utilizing moves
rumored so nimble,
no man could resist.

Amidst moans and sighs
all eyes follow her
sexy gyrations;
clamoring for more
erotic reveals.

In this fugue-like state,
barely cognizant
of her surroundings;
she stokes libidos
with her slow-burn dance.

And stripping away
all but her tan line;
her inviting smile
places men in an
hypnotic-lust trance.

Restless Hands

Restless hands
I look at my old hand
Blotches of liver spots, slow running blood vessels 
Delivering old blood so I can fold my hands
Once they caressed a woman`s body who moaned 
And my hands were firm
Women used to see me and smile now I walk
The earth unobserved and words become a long silence.
if I tell you how much I miss making love 
to sit in the park with a girl of and see the moon while
smoking cigarettes, inhale its promise of love to come
the aroma of her hair the smoothness of her thighs 
to kiss her libidos and drink her sweet water, her legs 
Apart she has given herself to me.
Asleep enfolded we are, tomorrow is far away.
My old hands remember so much I bow my head and try
to inhale from my hands what once was 
It is all so hopeless and soon I will be dead

Sharing One Soul

Time sorts anxieties out,
bringing calm to aging hearts.
When two hearts are free of doubt,
love spontaneously starts.

Libidos rise without shame;
lured by sensuality.
And embers flare into flame,
sparking sexuality.

Soft caresses lead to bliss,
wanting to go all the way.
And love enriches each kiss,
fueling feelings that stay.

Sharing one soul throughout time
isn't as far-fetched as it seems.
Lovers, even past their prime,
share memories in their dreams.

''The Sweltering Night Life--''

The sweltering night life has a certain, 
darkly, sensual appeal,--a 
sexuality about it that draws 
the wildlife out.

It is a world of darkness,
a place and time 
of shadow and mystery
when strangers fornicate.

During the night, the stars come out; 
the moon-glow is bright;
and eager libidos are on the prowl.
While all around, the nocturnal
rhythms increase.

When the darkness takes over, the night life 
takes notice. Desperate men and women 
change with the musth of night; 
and--like a herd of wild elephants in 
heat--they feel and obey its intoxicating power
to the cadence and gyrations of its nocturnal music.

Old But I Sure Ain'T Dead

I'm old but I sure ain't dead
Still got a eye for the ladies
Guess some of us older dudes
Will never give in to aging

It definitely is the reason
Passing a sweet young filly
I gush and stutter and stammer
Grinning and acting so silly

It's what us guys were meant to do
Hope it's not too overbearing
Why do girlies dress as they do
Such skimpy stuff they're wearing

Must be meant to attract us guys
To add some zest to our libidos
I'll let you in on a little secret
I tremble right down to my toes

So keep on keeping on, sweet ladies
Our panting will give you a clue
Your message is surely affecting us
Our minds are totally askew

© Jack Ellison 2013

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