Long Earlobes Poems
Long Earlobes Poems. Below are the most popular long Earlobes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Earlobes poems by poem length and keyword.
Clang, clang, clang, toots a trolley: X-s-teams,
though it's not the same San Fran by the Bay,
remembrance connects, perspective redeems,
sound stirs, 'Mathis', "It's Not For Me To Say".
Maintained posture as my observance probes,
heedless complacency, schemed convenience,
the prate news reader provokes our earlobes,
heroines chat as a girl grasps missed-chance.
Tram's next stop, the conductor ring updates,
abides fixed whiles, a life away smokes forth,
traffic noise flowing, like manmade primates,
shrieks giving birth...streetcar desired...part.
Ding, ding, ding, went the bell; attuned Judy,
"Voices of Spring", scratched slippers of ruby.
I
Moved
My fingers
Around her face
With the greatest care
Feeling most every space
Tracing over sensual lips
Softly touching with finger tips
Over her eyes and soft curved brows
Then round to her earlobes I felt her smile
© Copyright K.C.Leake
18th November 2015
All Rights Reserved
More lamenting from that "Mediclueless" hypochondriac...
Sensitivity, sensitivity,
I've got it in spades, head to toe.
I'm sure my sensitivity's passed down genetically
From ancestors long, long ago.
It's the epitome of exquisite agony,
And I suffer it more than my due.
Or could be I'm the progeny of poetic pedigree,
Which might explain why I'm sensitive, too.
Sensitive toenails, sensitive fingertips,
Sensitive arches of feet,
I'm convinced that my intense sensitivity's
Making my life incomplete.
Sensitive eyelids, sensitive earlobes,
Sensitive dimples and hair,
Can't stand the bright noonlight, or even the moonlight,
I just can't take me anywhere.
Sensitive elbows, sensitive wrist joints,
Sensitive ankles and knees,
That's the sensitive whole of me, in its entirety…
Won't somebody just shoot me, please?
Erotic Errata
by Michael R. Burch
I didn’t mean to love you; if I did,
it came unbid-
en, and should’ve remained hid-
den!
***
Less Heroic Couplets: Marketing 101
by Michael R. Burch
Building her brand, she disrobes,
naked, except for her earlobes.
***
Negligibles
by Michael R. Burch
Show me your most intimate items of apparel;
begin with the hem of your quicksilver slip ...
***
Warming Her Pearls
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
Warming her pearls,
her breasts gleam like constellations.
Her belly is a bit rotund ...
she might have stepped out of a Rubens.
***
Cover Girl
by Michael R. Burch
Cunning
at sunning
and dunning,
the stunning
young woman’s in the running
to be found nude on the cover
of some patronizing lover.
In this case the cover is a bed cover, where the enterprising young mistress is about to be covered herself.
***
First Base Freeze
by Michael R. Burch
I find your love unappealing
(no, make that appalling)
because you prefer kissing
then stalling.
***
Nun Fun Undone
by Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
Abbesses’
recesses
are not for excesses!
***
Less Heroic Couplets: Sex Hex
by Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
Love’s full of cute paradoxes
(and highly acute poxes).
Published by *Asses of Parnassus, Lighten Up Online* and *Poem Today*
***
Retro
by Michael R. Burch
Now, once again,
love’s a redundant pleasure,
as we laugh
at my childish fumblings
through the acres of your dress,
past your wily-wired brassiere,
through your panties’ pink billows
of thrill-piqued frills ...
Till I lay once again—panting redfaced
at your gayest lack of resistance,
and, later, at your milktongued
mewlings in the dark ...
When you were virginal,
sweet as eucalyptus,
we did not understand
the miracle of repentance,
and I took for granted
your obsessive distance ...
But now I am happily unbuttoning
that chaste dress,
unhitching that firm-latched bra,
tugging at those parachute-like panties—
the ones you would have gladly forgotten
had I not bought them in this year’s size.
Originally published by Erosha
On the precipice of womanhood, not knowing what my future love life could be, I gazed back into the brown eyes of Guy, a handsome boy from French Quebec. Utterly enthralled, I had never experienced such adoration before. He touched his eyelashes to mine. I felt his breath against my cheek as he playfully kissed me behind my earlobes and down my neck. His fingers never lunged toward my chest as had others who had tried this before. He focused on my face as his hands found their way down my spine, then caressed my waist. When his lips met mine, there was no rush to tongue. We were in synch with smooth, beautiful kisses. When finally he blessed me with his “French” kiss, I was his blissful slave, wishing for our two hours parked in front of my house to never have to come to its swift inevitable end.
*Note to the Reader: Guy WAS the name of this "guy" but in his language, it's pronounced GEE (hard G).
"The Seduction"
by: Eric L. Boddie
In total ecstasy and bliss, everyone knows that's how it ends
But it is so difficult for us to agree on just how it begins
But it starts with the passionate embrace of the eyes
Because from deep within the Soul is where this temptation must rise
Inspiring the touch of fingers to the frame
The gentle caress relieves the stress and style of dress just the same
Then the kiss....so soft....so warm....so moist
The earlobes, the neck, the nipples, the cheeks, but the lips are the favorite choice
Then the tongue bath, that's just how the saying goes
And to be thorough, you must either start or finish with the toes
But just remember that when you reach the most pleasurable part
You must leave it dripping wet, that's if you want to reach the heart
And when your voice reaches the point where it is higher than the flight of a dove
Then you are ready to experience the deep, long injection of Love
And until you get enough, this process continuously repeats
The endless flow of juices is released until you're delivered to the embrace of deep sleep
So cum....and get you some....
shall i wait for his plane to land?
— or meet him midair in pillowy-clouds,
clear the aisles meant for two,
order the finest dinner a steward can zoom,
prepare to feast on fingers and toes,
earlobes and sweet bubblegum lips.
shall i wait for the hail from the air?
— or fly my own airlines to climb aboard
certainly we don’t need two seats, only one
and that one is blushing from all of this touching.
shall I vigorously fly like a drone?
— spying out my love in from Japan
shall he unwrap an early present
i’m wearing red and green ribbons
...he’s wearing none.
~ certainly two stars search the horizon
~ climaxing at the speed of light’s dreams
air pressure certainly entertaining
the clash of thunder and lightning
a show of stupendous energy
for three weeks has weakened my pulse
and my knees.
I hightail to meet my love
in the air, so close and yet
i’ll certainly have to wait ‘til he lands
so he can take me back to the heavens.
12/21/2018
Be there the bight of a November drain
turned off tattered ruffles blotted feign
a ledged I removed and tender earlobes
waif yonder spectral possession probes
cracked nut overture eighteenth twelve
emptied shells retiring indicative delve
drain feign earlobes probes twelve delve
the hour,
Penchant dragged scrape innard depth
souring blindly binds ruse lids breadth
spar sun astir, causation its wandering
scar bites of frost attend a clouded ring
constant errs my inner chambers abide
pivotal piques tricked darkening inside
depth breadth spar scar abide inside
the hour,
A vast plague of vulture flights accrues
a lowly sill contempt its stay construes
awake dreamt feverishly reposed body
quake aloof save I some valued nobody
unsorted escort disembodied but feats
wonder maroon beheld tethering beats
accrues construes awake quake feats beats
the hour,
Therefore I'd wallowed jousting to free
of peals of laughter trifle trailing spree
feeble villagers thoughtless each share
of riddled backside amidst tabled stare
and counters gossip whispers consume
be their claim graphic God they assume
free spree share stare consume assume
the hour,
Remains of a last supper disrobed hang
amidst bunker migrating seasons pang
yond trained reflect stories trail facials
a negging crowded calls milds a rituals
saved I a memoir cloistered singularity
paved upon silken weaves a familiarity
hang pang facials rituals saved paved
the hour,
Bewitched canons riddled yon the altar
stacking of hymnals liberates Gibraltar
of liquefied gift cascading gratification
love stain pigments of my imagination
hues meld a silencing orchestrate suite
enhance the loyal thunder ne'er retreat
altar Gibraltar of love suite retreat
the hour.
When my mind is aligned
with my astrological sign
my poetical energy flow intensifies
and the power
of the Capricorn mind comes alive
so I can verbalize
the inner thoughts of my mind
and spout poetry
that can touch the public mind
beautifully
because the synergy
of my mind and spirit
gives birth to a soulful vibe
which allows my words to glide
through the air
and slide
through your earlobes
and probe your mental
penetrate your membranes
tickle your senses
while putting you in harmony
with reality
when it comes to life and love
my spoken words
have the power to inspire
to lift you higher
inject you with the desire
to see things from
a different perspective
you see
my message is to edify
uplift
educate the hearer
to feed the hungry mind
through lyrical rhyme
the strength of my dialogue
is designed
is designed to be a thought
rearranger
to turn a procrastinator
into a dream chaser
to make a follower
become a visionary
to teach someone to be
objective
and selective
when choosing the right roads
to travel
in their journey through life
let's be clear
I'm not a motivational speaker
I'm just a deep-thinker
and when my mind is aligned
with my astrological sign
my poetical energy intensifies
and the power
of the Capricorn mind
comes alive
and I can create
a well blended melody
in my mind
which has the capability
to put sweet music
in the heart of the listener
at least
this is the mind-set
of this Capricorn poet
Chalk was bold, pale skinned, and big boned.
A soft souled, porous, sedentary teen.
Bulky, he made a big initial impression,
but seemed to lack in true substance.
And thus, was a temporary friend,
often relied on to help others with work,
but then discarded without a second thought.
Good thing Chalk brushed off comments with ease.
Cheese was very much an acquired taste,
with hooped earlobes and a waxy complexion,
quite rugged, yet packed full of character.
He wore a baggy beanie like a protective rind,
and from a glance, he could give you nightmares.
But behind his hard exterior, was a soft nature.
Easily influenced, he was often seen in a smoky hue,
chewing salty, sour snacks outside of class.
These two were really chalk and cheese,
yet their soft nature made them good friends.
Chalk helped Cheese get a grip and find his true flavour,
and Cheese was a rock for Chalk's sense of self.
Together, they were anything but, chalk and cheese,
yet never had they been more Chalk and Cheese.
05.01.2023