Long Concupiscent Poems
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I admit tubby distracted by a modeling
female physique when attempting to write,
an aching agony rips thru this son,
gripping with hard on – tight -
by Dickens constricting sensation,
who orbited the sun LX times
coon sitters himself heterosexual male,
where slumbering testosterone forces unite,
no matter my libido feels
deadened, this despite
the above mentioned
asthma ordinary devoid sexual drive,
when these eyes (brown and myopic) sight
even just a picture
oven an attractive gal fanciful flight
evokes dormant longings
crashing thru concentration
without any invite
sparring dueling animal urge,
I know ain't right
since being married,
and all (witches nothing to celibate)
boot even if aye hapt tubby
dim witted with cerebral blight
prurient predilections, would
nonetheless prevail causing affright,
whereby the photographed lovely lady
dashes out like shuttered image,
though only so few inches in height,
would make a bee line into an
unreachable cubbyhole,
not totally airtight
just enough breathing room
to await darkening hour of night
than with lightspeed akin to meteorite
off into the farther reaches with a blink quite
invisible this quasi
holographic like pseudo sprite
leaves yours truly in the lurch ignite
ting a supposed sexual propensity gone cold
nay, no can do, cuz
untethered high as a kite
electrifying animal desire forced to bite
the dust, though thankfully concupiscent pang
ordinarily not the least bit aroused, aye attest
nope, not lascivious provocative
Barenaked Ladies can NOT excite
an older fellow, whose adolescent body
seethed with hormonal secretion,
and any pretty young thang did alight
a stick up between still skinny legs,
hence people watching
(particularly gals), a birthright
even migrant and/or
teenage mutant ninja turtle doth delight
tool hook, but NOT touch
most times an effortless fight,
yet every once in a while atavistic
pulsations, asper call
of the wild bobwhite
overrides instagramming, snapchatting,
and twittering uber with such might
even erupting sexless interludes of eunuch
or "FAKE" shining knight
chess moonlighting also as “FAKE” playwright,
hence if perchance a beauty catches me sight
lack of youth in your favor
from my penitent penile plight!
Oh...and hello
to you, some hours past, I
returned from counseling,
(hence this boy yent -
albeit beastie boy
figuratively basking
in fading afterglow)
great kickstarter session,
countless moments ago,
sans treatment plan,
she facilitated emotional airflow
i.e. Stephanie Dodds,
(sat straight as an arrow)
whereat this client purged, avow
hid lee, his psycho
logical reflux backflow
(Matthew Scott Harris) did crow
as said professionally trained
medicine woman actively listened,
(no doubt other male patients
similar to yours truly entertained
(alignment with see
thing hormonal concurrence,
where ego super vies iz
Id dee hot - hook line, and sinker
attributed to Sigmund Freud,
who sired, midwifed, and fathered
psychoanalytic theories)
sexual kindled fantasies,
viz being bedfellow
this soul, hood doth not bellow,
but keeps mum
(during my allotted time),
yet willingly shares
with utter strangers
intimate gal olive
hunt ting fantasy,
that doth beshadow
obviously no intent to breach
such prurient thoughts, bestow
foolscap upon mine noggin,
and most definitely blow
future appointments
with aesthetically pleasing
(tomb maa cryptic) bowwow
wing hot diggity
dog inner primate, perhaps,
and not surprisingly get brow
beaten, where dire
erect tor of facility
wilt hell me
"go take a hike to
penile solitary bungalow,"
where all manner of
libidinous desires wanna burrow
(where warren peace
can thrive hare and now),
on par with rabbit - burr reader,
which confinement would
not principally peter out
till dawning transgression vetted,
and avered final cockrow
trumpeted, norte - til last cornrow
reaped, hence unable
to thwart counterblow
permanently, doth nada
different she hate
lustful zeal from eye
dims sum – genital fateful dayglow,
thence high lee
grant ting deathblow
to testosterone laden satiety,
randy proclivity, and
concupiscent adoration from
combine nation of #endow
ments to ghost of - Grant
yule leases eyebrow
raising candy cane upon fallow
da weeder foreshadow
wing sowing field of poetically
wet dreams plying fecund,
feminine, and fertile ground
godaddy on his gangplow.
No Birthday Acknowledgement...
From thee... eldest daughter,
who need not brood,
nor does padre whoosh
to stir loess hood family feud
(hence an attempt merely
to convey melancholic mood).
Profound contrast extant between
your high achieving
life a wonderful hit parade
on the go compared tummy mellow
existence, yes rather staid,
now devoid of any parental
responsibility since years back, ye bade
farewell to yours truly
(perhaps forever), atop a jade
did apex inverse to my nadir paid
with ignoble deeds soul limb lee,
dissimilar to thee,
a young vibrant woman, unafraid
to take life by the (figurative) horns,
owning free choice (linkedin, nsync,
prevalent...) with autonomy swayed
independent lass not succor tubby paid
tummy, nor does this "sir" ask (delayed
by one day) for thee to "FAKE" express
sing nonexistent affection,
this decision...opting to evade
papa, who must accept such choice,
asper his first born, fortunately UNLIKE me
she earned top notch grade
nonetheless, this dada before he gets laid
to rest (actually most likely cremated),
whose ashes tubby scattered across favorite sites,
yourself and Shana Punim played,
which wistful nostalgia plucks heartstrings
rubbing raw thy psyche, who cannot trade
past concupiscent transgressions (emotionally
turbulent waters I did wade),
and no intent to telephone and invade,
sans audiologically your ear space,
this paternal, essential, and critical need
my psyche weighed, lamented, and encumbered
grief, nonetheless proud,
thee "star student" made
herself whip smart
by dogged academic pursuit
in tandem with ardent biological
bone a fide exemplary filleted
(within chromosomal dom) mignon,
similar, when Semitic forebears
risked frolicking under shade
of night - countless elapsed generations aid
ding random genetic dice throw begetting
Eden Liat, whose irrepressible
atavistic feral guaranteeing immortality obeyed
viz, call of the wild indomitable
animalistic hankering impossible to evade,
these genealogical ancestors actions unknowingly,
unstintingly, and unwittingly
helped forge, craft, and affect every blade
of grass, and yoked, (a chicken and egg thing)
hereditary survival of fittest
present day unchoreographed masquerade.
Court hiss sea hove The Irish Times,
this hum mere ruck can bloke
kin esse spy climb mitt till impact
desiccation ravaging with choke
hold thee aim rilled isle,
which haint ok key doke
cuz won hoot rook froom sun
whelps like heretic burned at stoke!
- - - - - - - - - -
More to the point (meaning jaw
ken minus **** faux
hackney poetic strung bow
Willy Wonka barely understandable
twanged and twinged) accent
hen reed how, accomplishment
in garnering alarming
news-worthy ailment
while this Unit Aryan ensconced
within beef hoar tee four comfortably
numb burred battlement,
here at Highland Manor,
I pay (if totally tubularly pennies rolled)
approximately equaling bedazzlement
17,500 viz copper cent,
per month gratuity clement,
sans Grosse and Quade
associates co-management
offered rental assistance congruent
(predicated on social security disability)
to occupy one bedroom
apartment kept air
conditioned 60°Fahrenheit
perfect for concupiscent
activity, albeit unfortunately marriage
shot thru with celibacy
suppressed sexless existence
more difficult to control
than catching a tiger by the tail,
hence this damned delinquent dependent
Dickensian dada cooly cruising thru
cyberspace espying embodiment,
how measurable heating up
Gaia, i.e. Mother Earth (she) evinces
no illusory figment, and just by a fluke,
the spontaneous Google search,
keyed revealed tumy mine eyes,
wretched webpage showed
stark rising temperature gradient
Dublin, Ireland experiencing
worst drought since
records began 168 years ago
where Irish Water (utility)
warned Dublin would run out of water
in 70 days, a “worst-case scenario”
necessitating hyper-efficient
protocols immediately inherent.
As par and parcel of being
alive wire impossible aye
to maintain totally tubularly
literarily celibate by and bye
with parochial restraint antiseptic dry
as dust poetic refrains
asper this healthy older guy
devoid of physical whim zee
unlike a inscrutable eunuch...so hi
there dear reader experienced
by this self contrived Zen
minded nonestablishmentarian outlier,
whose nonconformist yen
tries to steer clear of controversy,
heresy, prurient wen
unless one happened
to be eunuchized,
i.e. sexless as a cold oven,
but similar to generic men
this writerly hen
pecked husband dully
drumming, droning, and
dribbling as a lix spittle
aged chap housed within
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania bailiwick
though far less inclined
to whet ma lil atrophied dipstick
than some young buck
at the peak of his sexual prowess
every now and again viz,
aye feel a much slighter sensation
drubbing, crackling, and
buckling mine body electric
and attempt to record
re: font ten blue type
boldface and/or Italic
such infrequently occurring
fleeting Johnson magic
speculating why the
hoo ha regarding mystic
spell binding codas,
dogmas, and enigmas,
an integral component naturalistic
within the calculus of life,
when human species
(parenthetically), naturally, inherently,
and biologically opportunistic
akin to other organisms whose quixotic
antics allow NON GMO,
MSG, and gluten free,
and uncensored discussion
asper reproductive habits rhapsodic
with floral and/or faunal symphonic
emanations donning each their own
"NON FAKE" trumpeting
spectacular humbly modest
rubric, yet...universalistic
as being linkedin
within the cosmic whirled wide web.
Sunday Horn Haiku
Written on morning
of January 19, 2020
at St. James Episcopal
Church, Shallotte, NC
With God and His hand
We began to understand
Why minds will expand
We remember monk
Who always would have much *****
Slept in bottom bunk
God miracle made
His hand on us He had laid
Never were afraid
We will need a perk
When we have started to work
Energy does lurk
We did determine
Had been a great sermon
Much sin and vermon
To God we do pray
Please with us forever stay
While in yard will play
To market and to market
Had been Trump who was big pig
More trouble causing
Had been a big sow
Women to win will not allow
Must get by somehow
On a peel he slipped
We had known that he was whipped
so out had Trump shipped
Found out what was fair
Knowing we should always share
had a sin to spare
know what I suppose
If I did have a long nose
Could I still say prose
You could be coerced
have to ride around in
For Trump had a thirst
A resurrection
Found after further inspection
Did change direction
had clothes in hamper
dirty so me did pamper
Away did scamper
God us He will feed
Crazy Christians we do need
Should see sins stampede
A insurection
Does need a ressurection
Crazy Christian connection
After being fed
And all of my prayers said
Went to sleep in bed
A theatrical
About a sebatical
of a radical
Moscow Mitch a turtle
Sought woman who was feral
Married maiden Myrtle
Was edifying
Knowing that Trump was dying
Lld off were prying
Was reminiscent
And could be concupiscent
We had to relent
God hard to resist
Insist nearest and dearest
Also sincerest
Jim Horn
Dance for me now ...
Eyes of polished onyx pierce me like the keen edge
of a scalpel, deftly wielded ...
The blood of my black heart flowing in and around you,
warm and welcomed to your wings and wants ...
The aspiration of our spirits - air between us as still as ruin,
while the world spins outward, ever, a cacophony of color ...
Calm coalescence in a realm of chaos, airborne and harmonious,
sublime, if only ephemeral - if only once ...
I am your vessel, awaiting, I am your barre, to stretch and strain upon,
I am the adoration in your hush, and the dark feathers of your plume ...
I am rapt in awe by such immaculate and lithe form, destroyed
wholly by the feral, flawless grace of your movements ...
I am devoured by the ferocity and exquisite finish of
your line and flow 'en fouette' ...
It is the anger and complete abandon in your expression
that at once terrifies me and slays my spirit ...
That brings all that is demoness to your passion, and all
that is angelic to your erotic ire ...
Spellbound by the dance, I plummet into your shadow,
and let your black wings surround my delirium ...
An aphotic interplay of souls, a forbidden allurement of
figures, a carnal and concupiscent 'pas de deux' of fury ...
Dance with me ...
Now.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Contest Number 360" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Obsession" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.
( N/A'd on 2/28/20 in the "Free Verse On Love" Poetry Contest )
Sleepwalker
And in the darkest sweeping wings is held all probable
The night of dreamings; wished embraces of gossamer senses ponder miracles
And leave their mark; ever in hope....
She is waiting
Pale in naked moon lit sexual stretches
Fanning shadows curve on satins anguished blue
To subtle bronzed drips rusted rivers
Lay about her in ever flowing delta’s of hair
These the coy covers of shoulders demure beneath their lifting expectation
Quintessence supplicant to floating hands; risen
Her slow beat thumps on a sudden heart
The fleur-de-lis arched beseeching the avid prayer of lips
The floorboards creek
And though through empty rooms the sighs may roam
Though forever it seems she has lain alone
There are eyes, by bat wing devised; by the caverns urgent aphrodisia
He has been gathered by the corpuscle of desire, to come to her
And by each and every silent unspent moan of longing
He inscribed this hours, fretful, reflections of her mantle parted
An eternal caress folded; ingress to her concupiscent heart
Mere Luna beams of dreams of loves physique, his love, made love to her
Dawns dissipation breaths
Remembering the warmth before forgotten days; where separated so
Bathes her awash in amber fire; and traces his finger along her spine
To leave her sleeping in those somnambulist foot prints
Looses in the languid illusive of arms, wrapped in suns breaking
Turning to the light he asks for its edifice, hold fast on waking
Struggle to define by wanting the irrevocable kiss; pressed to her
A taste recited by those gossamer senses ponder miracles
And leave their mark; forever in hope
Indian summer lies within your autumn hazel eyes,
my velvet bloom vibrant now lost after your killing frost;
love lingers in bereft fingers, I stroke your face in guise,
once lustrous, amaranthine heart lies bleeding in exhaust.
My velvet bloom vibrant now lost after your killing frost,
your chill withered russet my enchanted efflorescence;
once lustrous, amaranthine heart lies bleeding in exhaust,
as you disperse in scarlet moonlighting vaporescence.
Your chill, withered russet my enchanted efflorescence,
blue breath exhaled... my cooling mood still hangs in our mid-air;
as you disperse in scarlet moonlighting vaporescence,
your affair concupiscent more than my bemoan can bear.
Blue... breath exhaled, my cooling mood still hangs in our mid-air,
my harvested heart-ache, my heart-break, my heart-feeling weep~
your affair concupiscent more than my bemoan can bear,
into all my tomorrows tears of my sorrow shall seep.
My harvested heart-ache, my heart-break, my heart-feeling weep,
amaranth once fertile, frost-bitten, fading everyday;
into all my tomorrows, tears of my sorrow shall seep
despite your warmth, light of day and hoarfrost melting display.
Amaranth once fertile, frost-bitten! Fading everyday,
love lingers in bereft fingers. I stroke your face in guise;
despite your warmth, light of day and hoarfrost melting display,
Indian summer - lies! - within your autumn hazel eyes.
Susan Ashley
October 8, 2017
~ Third Place~
Contest: Mid October Premiere
Sponsor: Brian Strand
now ...
dance for me …
eyes of polished onyx pierce
me like the keen edge of a scalpel,
deftly wielded ...
the blood of my black
heart flowing in and around you,
warm and welcomed to your
wings and wants ...
the aspiration of our spirits -
charged air between us as still as ruin,
while the world spins outward,
ever a cacophony of color ...
calm coalescence in a
realm of chaos,
airborne and harmonious,
transcendent, if only ephemeral -
if only once ...
I am your vessel, awaiting,
I am your barre,
to stretch and strain upon …
I am the adoration in your hush,
and the dark feathers of your plume ...
I am rapt in awe by
such immaculate and lithe form,
destroyed wholly by the feral,
flawless grace of your
movements ...
I am devoured by the
ferocity and exquisite finish of your
line and flow 'en fouette' ...
it is the anger and
complete abandon in your
expression that at once terrifies me
and slays my sullen spirit -
that brings all that
is demoness to your passion,
and all that is angelic to your erotic ire ...
spellbound by the sway,
I plummet into your soft shadow,
and let your ebon wings
surround my delirium ...
an aphotic interplay of souls, a forbidden
allurement of fierce, fluid figures,
a carnal and concupiscent
'pas-de-deux' of fury -
dance for me ...
now.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Contest Number 360" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Obsession" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.