Long Climaxed Poems
Long Climaxed Poems. Below are the most popular long Climaxed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Climaxed poems by poem length and keyword.
Twas the night before my cousin's
wedding
He reluctantly gave in to the
bachelor party vetting
A burlesque, tawdry strip club was
the setting
Unbeknownst to him, the bridesmaid
was his appetite whetting
With gratuitous lap dance, began
the ribald feting
In drunken stupor, the enamored
groom his fealty forgetting
Released his inhibitions all of his
clingy garments shedding
Strode platform, in sync with
bridesmaids erotic moves duetting
In tantric rhapsody, she released
pheromones his testosterone
subletting
Enraptured with his riposte jaunts,
her matrimonial bond shredding
The enamored bridesmaid with lust
his bare essentials began petting
His betrothed parts to her
dominatrix will indebting
As the groom climaxed, his phallus
got entangled in her fish netting
Two truant souls now writhing;
spent body parts bloodletting
Dislodging their carnal chains, into
frothy night jetting
To hotel that lodged devoted bride;
their remaining passions bedding
Lurid, tawdry tryst not regretting;
but o'er bawdy exhibition sweating
Wedding contest
September 14, 2012
A teenager with the expressions of a middle age individual
is the wonder-creating characteristic of its accelerating growth.
Dwelling in a land not presented with natural gifts;
it still beat all odds to be a member of the Asian Tigers
and a competing contributor to its domain’s prosperity.
The birth place to the Toilet theme amusement park
and a camp of makeup obsessed men.
The fourteenth day of every month is set aside in romance’s banquet
except that of the fourth month when mourning becomes love’s pirate.
February is for young men, march, three times for the ladies.
Prides in the globally acknowledged Boryeona Mud Festival
and gives socialization a new countenance in the “hoesik” event,
while new standards in robotic technology is climaxed
as prison guards, patrols, anti-jelly fish squad and teachers
actively exist through exciting artificial intelligence.
A humiliating public ritual in a form of crime reenactment,
personality stereotypes emanating from the different blood groups,
a nationwide superstitious repugnance to the red ink;
very cultured to even create a backlash
on Bill Gates’ presidential handshake;
typify a people coming a long way from a turbulent past.
A territory of very bright and brainy students;
the god of the LG, Hyundai and Samsung among others;
and to the largest church in size and congregants in the world.
It is the well preserved garden where plastic surgery strives
all to show an amazing growth once heavily stunted,
suffering a suppression entertained by the comfort ladies;
somehow causing a perspective towards the rising sun
to be similar to the swastika’s view by the Jews.
Despite the Japanese colonization, soviet meddling and North Korean threats,
it’s still showing mental strength to be the world’s 12th largest trading Nation.
HER
the chains —
roses tied ‘round hands and feet,
apple-scented la forza del destino.
the buds claw down her back,
send shivers down her spine,
her head climaxed —
delicate, her perfumed breath.
the thorns gently nibble at her neck,
the wine it draws,
the tongue collects.
HIM
his waist, she grips
with everlasting rose-hips,
the crystal chalice overflows
with deliciousness.
full blossoms, of golden pressed
like a prisoner’s garb unto his chest.
he heaves so hard, suffocating
beneath this veneer of tremulous beauty.
Together
they beg to be released,
their vines intertwined
and fate interjects
with wounds of perspiring lips
solicited to one another
in a kiss of bon chance.
liberated to master their winded flutes
of cherry parfait served with
whipped cream.
7/2/2019
Contest: Slave to Love
Sponsor: John Hamilton
La forza del destino - The power of fate
Bon chance - Good luck
Cherry Parfait - also a type of rose
THE ENTIRE Earth: a watch
that tells the heart when
you are awake and sleeping.
I feel
the movement of Beethoven’s
Sonatas and your dreams:
like a butterfly sighing
and escapes
from between your parting
lips dreaming of me.
Then as though upon the
tips of tulips I am flying!
Searching vast fields to
find the one beautiful
perianth: and your berries
within the tulip's ovary!
And now my search is found
within a forest of fragments
of greens, browns, sparrows,
and splintered wood:
The Earth's watch has stopped
for eternally us!
Away with nature's winds!
a lifetime,
a lifetime,
together within eternity
and two purple tulips
excited that fiber of time
has climaxed upon our moment!
:: 12-30-2017 ::
Wandering barefoot,
whispering sweet sentiments
of haunting pleasures.
A touch that never phased me -
a kiss from her heaven lips.
Tangerine horizons,
appeared like flames in brown eyes.
Lovebirds gazed in awe,
as her lust soaked my passion.
Night rhythms sang to the stars.
We lay until dawn,
adrift in love's melodies,
under moonlight's shroud.
First blink to our morning skies
was wrapped in her angel wings.
A Tanka is a type of short poem, similar to a Haiku, of 8th century Japanese origin which are often written to express self-reflection, love, or gratitude. A suitor would compile a Tanka and send it to a woman the following day after a date. The woman would then reply back in kind. The poems were like short, secret messages expressing gratitude, love, meaning, or desire, and often climaxed in a persuading message.
When cold hearted ego insists and persists
with consistent deductive reason
and empirical truths of self-judgement
EcoEarth's warm breath invites
inductively resonant
personal empowering and economic enlightened
experiential truth
of ego/eco-passionate coinvestment.
Most of us Left-brain dominant
overly competitive,
especially with our truer deeper selves,
for not sharing/transacting/communicating/gifting
healthy relationship priorities,
shamelessly commodified
humorously self-domesticated
folks
would feel healthier
and probably wisdom wealthier
to water our Right brain flowers
wilt our Left-brain competitive
overly-climaxed dominant
monoculturing weedpatch.
Try on some different colors
and dialects
and cultures
and paradigms
and shoes
and win/win role plays
and empathetic eyes.
Really,
what could you possibly lose
that you really want,
but don't need?
What might we all gain
if you loosened up that monotheistic deducing-reducing
win/lose competing divine brain v human braun
to catch a more polyculturally beloved inductive
win/win cooperative mind/body train?
What cold hearted ego insists and persists
for colonizing the world
eco's warm-hearth breath invites
for creolizing sacred EarthTribes.
She stroked his hand in passion and gave him life’s ultimate blessing
It’s time to go in love and peace she would miss his gentle caressing
Strokes of desire and passion from a wild sharp and emotional mind
His loins desire and poetry the spoon for her moon hot and entwined
It seemed an eternity since they first kissed and he gave her a peach
Gathered union sea shells and driftwood and built a hut on the beach
Tides had moved their Universe since heaven and haven joined together
Tickled their fancy lust and compassion and in turn she gave him a feather
Of lightness and light and they talked through memories and surrender
Now it had to be the final farewell from this journey of joy and splendour
Thank you and let’s not fall prey to gloom sadness but rather kindly rejoice
In those one thousand and more moments since we made that firm choice
Do you remember how everyone was against us and not gave us chance
Just a fling an illicit affair must be all about sex and mere flirtatious dance
But we stuck to each other like a butterfly courting a lavender blossom
Licked lips and skinfuls of perfume your hands on my quivering bosom
Read books together after you swam in my ocean under Turkish lights
Flew on magical carpets to ends and beginnings of daylight and nights
With glow worms and dolphins we mounted our kindness and destiny
in crescendo we climaxed on satin sheets in our fantasies breathlessly
The bedroom is now adorned with an IV drip stand and a catheter bag
You look haggard and worn out are so exhausted and wave the white flag
One more pull on the trigger and I honour your wish with one last shot
Syringe full of morphine full to the brim a promise when tying the knot
Farewell my Prince travel well for when you enter the kingdom beyond
I know you’ll wait for me patiently until in essence we realign that bond
Let us not talk any longer I shall simply hold you in my knowing embrace
Our infinity last forever anywhere anyhow and always in that new place
15th September 2020
It’s fall of 1888, the south of France,
In the verdant fields of Arles,
Two artists shared a single dream,
And so began their quarrel.
Vincent paved the way for Paul
With bold sunflower sprays.
Paul dissembled, stating plain,
“More practiced effort pays.”
“Don't smile before December,”
Said the mentor to his charge.
And the student pegged his better
As a bon vivant at large.
So, their tenure at the Yellow House
Grew troublesome and dark.
Their artists’ shared collective
Strayed a long way off its mark.
Dry and cold, the Mistral winds
Spread madness like a plague,
To infiltrate poor Vincent’s mind,
Whose memories grew vague.
Mania, delirium, anxiety, and fear,
Climaxed when the voices told him,
“You don’t need that ear!”
He’d heard no praise, regardless.
Dr. Rey used his sorry portrait
To fix his chicken coop.
Then Theo got engaged,
And Paul sailed away to Tahiti.
Now time’s become history,
And that paint smeared canvas,
Nailed to a chicken coop
Means to claim a hefty sum.
And Le Fou Roux lies cold in his grave,
Unmindful of the legend he’s become.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
STARRY NIGHTS AT SAINT REMY
She stood in front of the mirror, not liking what she sees
He watched from behind the door, seeing what he likes
She turned from side to side; hoping different angles would help her shape
He watched with excited eyes; each new angle shaping his hope
She rubbed lotion all over her body, to keep her young and smooth
His jeans were getting tighter, just begging to be removed
She touched the parts about which he fantasized, slowly closing her eyes
He had to let his growing manhood out, now grown to twice its size
She knew he was there
He knew that she knew
He really didn’t care
She watched as he grew
She made sure that he could see her, though she did not let him in
From the reflection in the mirror she saw him watching her watching him
He wished her hands were his and that his hands were hers
She applied more of the lotion letting out a pleasurable purr
They climaxed apart together; never acknowledging the other one
He went to the guest room shower, having finished what she begun
She stood in front of the mirror, thinking; perhaps it’s not so bad
As long as it does that to him, I guess I can still be glad
the orchestra played full volume in the theatre of her mind
thoughts and emotions vied for undisturbed attention but
her misplaced applause failed to settle restless blind screens
decoupages tapestries and fabrications of her imagination
whole movies and symphonies arranged on fast auto replay
spooled forward and backward until vision blurred into one
epic film tear of overload exhaustion and impenetrable void
hungry children
uncivil wars
deforestation
xenophobia
fission bombs
subjugation oppression marginalization genocides homophobic attacks
power money greed opulence decadence and seeming banality of evil
for the charade that life was she needed to close plenty of curtains
unveil at the same time what had been hidden behind a solid façade
when the cacophony climaxed in crescendo staccato and discord
she knew that her voice of conscience would lead her the way
03rd June 2021