Long Groins Poems
Long Groins Poems. Below are the most popular long Groins by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Groins poems by poem length and keyword.
You remind me of some man
Tall, dark and ... Ah! May.
His wallet was a handful dripping
His masculine hands were short with
a bright, cheerful face
His speech was deep,
Brain full yet racing
Well organised and viper canning
His lips oozed out of wisdom after knowledge
He had pulled legions of followers.
Women, yet most girls, were his sweet pie
He loved to chill within
Excited to cool the wind at devil's best hours
You remind me of someone
whose well-known name to them fame chasing
He knew his value on his groins
The strength he gems with idolatry
Those dresses, I pity them
Whoever got the comfort around his chains,
Volant, who could spot the red dot
His nose knew no scent, not as any normal person would
Blinded by his ego, swollen viz pizza bread,
He would mention the name of a woman to a girl
Too stubborn to his wasteful quest
They enter the strip
joint like the last
flurrie of flakes.
She hears the music,
hears the voice of the
D.J. Wind, enters on cue.
Her cold poles await her
as she moves to the beat.
One south, one north.
She works them both.
They call her Storm
she is the feature act.
Drawing her minions
in for months now.
Quickly the starkness of ivory
starts to melt off her body.
The long blanched gloves
covered those particular
patches are the first to go
revealing the fresh lustre of
bare skin once again exposed.
Sexy,
she's a professional!
She stares out
noticing the skeletal
frames once only
shadows,
now with a glimmer
of light.
She knows her time
is short now
feels a hint
of life in her
domain of
dead stares.
Hears sounds
that are telling.
Was that really a chirp
or just a whistle?
The pulse of warmth starts
to pump through her veins.
Now her shiny robe
falls to the ground and
you can sense the smell
of want in the air.
The flow of liquids
previously frozen stiff.
Storm the stripper
slowly teases the crowd.
Down to her Victoria Secret
garb she tugs at our groins
knowing her audience craves
more.
In this case that also
means less.
I personally will miss her
in this present form.
Her tidy white lingerie
against her tanned skin.
Covered peaks,
rounded mounds.
You just want to
ride up, and maneuver
your way down.
The timing is wrong.
I know she will strip bare
as first the top goes then
down to a G-String of snow.
Naked,
winter stands
in front of me.
She will meander a bit
shake with a breeze
of perfumed cold.
Slide onto the floor as she undulates
with her come ons that near a finality.
She saunters off the stage
and me I watch winter's end.
Spring, on winter's barren
ground starts to peek from
around the curtain,
with her touch of green.
Warm breezes.
Her array of pastel colors.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Winter has left the building,
Spring is here!
01~19~2015
Sponsor: SKAT A
Contest: Winters End
Night’s lingering silhouette no longer
Shields my restless shadow, which clutches me
With gusto and haunting trauma.
My naked thorax seeks raffia clothing;
My ribs rebel against enchanting shivers from the spine of terror.
Adam’s greenish raiment I long for,
Among wet strings of strong bows fastened
To the groins of departed giants.
My feet, caked by frozen sand dunes,
Tramp gently and defiantly among wooded plains,
Hailing the vim of desert sun
I seek shelter within your bowels,
Outside your smooth, corpulent, fecund trunk.
I hear the days of exile are never truly over —just like wars!
Human beings abhor peace.
This fear of peace I spell with letters never before written,
With symbols never once imagined.
Tyrants rise and fall... and rise again,
Among climes that egg them on —tribes daunted by the
Power of peace.
Imbibe me,
Baobab.
I have no wish for a second chance, for a stumbling
Dice;
I cringe from the raining hails of hell,
From the sick of raging volcanoes.
Make my day thy juice —thy rent—but guard me
From the wrecking hands of rioting cycads,
From a climate so paranoid.
House me now.
Haunt down those that haunt me.
Let the heinous powers declare me missing!
Into your uterus come I —like a returning foetus.
Evil is incremental
One bullet after another
And after another
And after another
Until there’s a blister
On my trigger finger
Where there used to be a wet print
Of a little kiss
Transplanted to my little girl’s cheek
Before I left for work
This morning,
She’s sound asleep in bed
With the spring birds singing
Through her window.
All day
I do
The best I can
To shoot low,
To spare the gut,
To leave the heart within its chest,
I merely shred knee caps and groins
With shrapnel
From the cannon in my hand,
To buckle those distant shapes
Of brown people,
To see them writhe in the dirt
On their asses,
Legs and arms pumping into the air
Like half-squished spiders
On top of a table,
Hauled away in spoonfulls of wheelbarrows
My God
My God
Please stop
This prophecy
Of slingshots
And firebombing kites.
I know most of my bullets
Have slipped into the gaseous abyss
With their own orders
And less discipline
Into a handshake of fate
Until I reckon
With the end of time
I am doing this
Me
All day
At work
Shooting
Across a field
Over a fence erected by men
Because this is heaven, and that is hell
And they all want in,
Millions of them,
Wanting to kill me
And my little girl
Asleep in her bed.
I’ve never heard or seen
Of anything
More irrelevant
Than having a choice.
Did I say that, or did they?
We all follow our orders.
Night’s lingering silhouette no longer
Shields my restless shadow, which clutches me
With gusto and haunting trauma.
My naked thorax seeks raffia clothing;
My ribs rebel against enchanting shivers from the spine of terror.
Adam’s greenish raiment I long for,
Among wet strings of strong bows fastened
To the groins of departed giants.
My feet, caked by frozen sand dunes,
Tramp gently and defiantly among wooded plains,
Hailing the vim of desert sun
I seek shelter within your bowels,
Outside your smooth, corpulent, fecund trunk.
I hear the days of exile are never truly over —just like wars!
Human beings abhor peace.
This fear of peace I spell with letters never before written,
With symbols never once imagined.
Tyrants rise and fall . . . and rise again,
Among climes that egg them on —tribes daunted by the
Power of peace.
Imbibe me,
Baobab.
I have no wish for a second chance, for a stumbling
Dice;
I cringe from the raining hails of hell,
From the sick of raging volcanoes.
Make my day thy juice —thy rent—but guard me
From the wrecking hands of rioting cycads,
From a climate so paranoid.
House me now.
Haunt down those that haunt me.
Let the heinous powers declare me missing!
Into your uterus come I —like a returning foetus.
Running on cliff edges cranked her adrenalin
Stagger of gravels' release, tipped in avalanche
Scared her terrifically, able to surrendour then
Driven to dare's taunt irresistible, emancipated
Victims of her craft came willingly to her dim den
Always too enthused, wiped smiles with debauchery
Fools drooled like puppies, helpless lap belt men
Guzzled foggy grape juice, succumbed to her sorcery
Smoothly blended purple potion contained correct mix
Floppy neck despondent combined tiger voracious
Aphrodite's ribs thronged with rotten achievement, a fix
Light in guy's terrified faces fed her climb solacious
Absolute conquer of weakened ones, without any speech
Gleam in their pupil huge grape gluttoned eyes, pleadingly
Waist up incapable, claimed her pleasure self beseeched
Entire body force in their groins satiated men immediately
Squared claws clamped concave flanks, rose from exhale
Her wearer's temperature sat at forty degree celcius fever
Tigers never went down without a fight, Aphrodite impaled
Traipsed her way stickily to the tip, slide down took forever
Lame, head spin sickened, next hour's lure gladly drags
Fish lipped flung fellow to her front yard, under a shrub
Sombre, cynical, sneer mouth man, her true rival, perhaps
- maybe Aphrodite would let this one remain undrugged
13th September 2020
Smell of scent, tiger rage inside
Touch of heart, loving depths of soul
The feel of your skin bare in the mist
Slick as the moisture runs, gleaming shine
I feel you in darkness, shiver of love's fire
Longing to be devour your eager thirst
Beneath the moon ray pushing through glass
Candle flickers like a spirit flows
The soul hungering for touch love cries
To feel passion of penetration is wetness
To feel like you deep inside someone skin
Wanting to be deeper, just crawl inside
Love's fire burning your groins ever desire
A taste of your juices my excite erotica
As if you can feel temperature rise
Hitting it harder, beads of sweat droplets converge
Upon our bodies pounding emotion to explosion
Your heart race breathless times passing
Inside, love for sex or partner we share
Doing the wild thing, it's a natural instinct
Only love's fire turn you on as good as me
Smile... you just got teased
A fallen villain;
Slayer of the innocent and lover of pain;
A gifted mystic who prostituted the endowments of Nature,
And thus drunk her cup of fury with mysterious pleasure.
Sharks found a rare meal of flesh and blood
That they would not have had,
Thanks to the seasond American commandos
Who supplied so full its dose.
With a huge sigh I mark your simple end,
And still mourn your complex trend
That maimed bouyant lives of both young and old.
Some you may meet in hell and seek revenge hundredfold;
Others yet shall forgive you as they dine in paradise.
My condemning cry does now rise:
May Satan, your treacherous mate,
Scold your brow with utmost hate,
For he has no ally when his mission's done;
Let him torch your groins and your hairs burn!
Part I: Sin
Mariah of Magdala
The cursed one among women
Better that you were not born
The one full of black evil
Queen of prostitutes
None of modest can be traced in you
Yet men still Adour you
They still come crawling even in black dark
They do not care if day is scorching bright
Neither if its black pitch in deep groovy woods
They hunt you from the cave you hide
When they smell your shadow Mariah
They cannot hold on their dripping appetite
That made wet their groins
What charm are you using Mariah!
Why don’t you share with other women?
Do you want all the men to yourself Mariah?
Animalistic Love
How can I describe making love to you?
So many words I would like to use
Love to use
I know they are offensive to some
Maybe some have never experienced such passion
Others may have but not known the words to describe it
In that dark room with the curtains drawn
We found worlds beyond our own in every touch
There was a choir singing above
Yet they could not drown our primitive screams
There are so many words out there
Used in normal conversation around the world
They should be used since the passion was there
Animalistic instincts from pre-ancient times
Before man was man
Before moralistic views came into play
The instincts are still there
Raging as a fire deep within out groins
Yet, modern sensitivity limits the words describing those emotions
The raging passion will never be restricted by others
That one moment of total sharing
What words can tell of those pure feelings?
How can I describe making love to you?
I can’t!