Long Lascivious Poems

Long Lascivious Poems. Below are the most popular long Lascivious by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lascivious poems by poem length and keyword.


Spiral Into the Spring - Narcissism Now

Puller of a big shell home, no hobo
Tracked brightest of silver patterns
Bold snail, Hugh wobbled with mojo 
Hubris resumes his powerful status

Side to side saunter, his slimy slide
Tells everyone of bombastic confidence 
Temptations, his charms quickly aquire
Conquests met get exactly what he wants

Big ego feeds his sanguine superior
Fragile actuality of shell's thin build
Ignores Hugh's vulnerable exterior 
Sure immortality, greatness not killed 

While other average snails take basic 
Drinking from small puddles satisfies
On ordinary, Hugh's time never wasted
Licks lascivious in ponds' crystal eyes

Knows all stalks point in his direction 
Enviously wishing they had his talent
Lesser eyes try to emulate perfection
Witnessed in wet lipped pond faelic 

Translucent Hugh has fearless appeal
Water strewn on shell by his muscles 
Flicked back lifted four stalk face feels
His good looks are escape from trouble

Glistening green moss highlights brown 
Shell symbol of ultimate great manhood
Stalks merge with surface, he slips down
If hubris could save him, it now would.... 


Neighbourly snails rushed to his aid
By rushed, I mean a metre a minute
Flailing Hugh refused attempts made
Handsome was never made diminutive

Lost to the pond of many admirations
Hours spent dwelling on his worth
Inflated means neglected summation
Valuable imput not measured by girth
 
                             !!!!! 
   



            12th September 2020 

                     Submitted:
                  26th September 
            For William Kekaula's
            Impact and Metaphor
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Romantic Passion Inevitably Ends

Passion can be a somewhat lustful animal.
When it feeds continuously, it will . . . eventually
tire of the type of sustenance for which it used to yearn.
Its constant engorgement consumes the very longing 
for what once had spurred it on,
for romantic passion can only subsist mainly on fresh flesh
and it inevitably ends.

If romantic passion is wise,
it will reinvent itself, evolving into a deeper breed of love -
something more trusting, comfortable, and true.
Sadly, romantic passion is often mistaken
for the very thing which it needs so badly to change into,
thus ending in disillusionment and a craving something new.
Happily, however, the creature passion can rekindle the enthusiasm
for its old diet – though not ever as frequently as it had in the past.

There is a different passion -  a lascivious obsessive beast 
which, when deprived of what it longs for 
or denied control of what it thinks it owns,
will stifle or stalk its prey, and kill any chance
for real love to ever begin at all.

Premium Member Refractory Patience

From the drizzling silver of yearning night,
mesmeric flotilla of fervor on moonbeam 
sails through the aperture of your window,
anchoring on the swan-winged bedspread.

The diaphanous ivory of your sparkling skin,  
radiates supine patina of luminous longing,
blazes in the invisible flare of eros ember, 
as the moonshine stokes the amorous fire.

As a fly enticed by consummating bonfire,
I waft to fondle luring sizzler of glowing you.
Lest I burn my lascivious probing passion,
I wear the refractory potholder of patience.


May 9, 2020
Contest : The Potholder
Sponsor : Craig Cornish
For Brian Strand's Contest All Yours (Jun 23)

Left Like a Cliffhanger

How many pages 
Did you flip through 
Of mine?

That I was written 
With the embodiment 
Of everything you deify?

Trying to picture me 
Gliding 
Through your mind 

A kaleidoscope 
Of innocence 
In a dress 

Where I share poems 
Written about you 
At 2am 

And I am
Weaved together in your arms 
Like the blanket your mom made me

Kissing my cheek 
Until 
I laugh 

And our last kiss 
For the night
Leaves the taste of you behind 

Months old 
Cherry chapstick 
That lives in your favorite pair of jeans

My written word 
Depicted me 
perfectly 

The soft 
Smile on your face 
Said it all 

But the contradiction 
From 
Your tongue 

The sweet 
Sensitive love letters 
You gave me 

Was harder 
For me 
To swallow 

Than the adrenaline 
You could not control 
When you felt my touch 

I am inured 
Whole heartedly 
To the men 

Patching up 
Voids in their lives 
With being lascivious 

Their books 
Always
Know how to catch your eye 

Yet 
They are always 
Missing the last few pages 

But I keep 
Rereading them
As if the ending will change
© Ali Lynn  Create an image from this poem.

Upon Espying Aesthetically Pleasing Females

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!


Premium Member The Charm of Beautiful Women

I had leaned on the bar of the balcony, when suddenly
My eyes and my mind have captured, from far away
A silhouette creeping down the steps and the stairs
Imitating a sassy ballerina with great skills and care
It's like a prima donna which was galloping gallantly
The mystical diva had an extraordinarily
Kif-kif style which could cause any man to shiver
She was so cute that I had bit really hard the palm
Of my right hand, as a sign of love, respect and envy
About fifteen meters away, I had found her so pretty
That my legs were frantically shaking. So powerful as a bomb
That I almost fell from the celestial clouds. The charm, beauty
And elegance of this muse were unparalleled
The Mighty Lord knows how to build wonders that are
Sensational, lascivious, wholesome, perfect even irreproachable
This angelic passerby had replied to my bonjour
Freezing me until her outlines and edges had classically detoured
Oh! Wonderful Lord, she was so fine and adorable
That my tongue had grown heavy and my face had sunk into the bay
The charm of beautiful women was superfine and mysteriously sassy
God knows when and how to make men sweltering and happy
Power lies with souls that are delightfully charming and flowery 
O Woman! It’s very pleasant to dream at night and a little all day.

P.S. Translation of ‘Le Charme Des Belles Femmes’.
Copyright© January 2021, Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Form: Rhyme

An Ode to Love

An Ode to Love

(A lone voice whispers) 

Is Love
Like one

Finding a South Philippine Dwarf Kingfisher

One of the World's 
Rarest birds 

A much-welcome visitor 
To see and treasure 
Sunbathing in the sun 

Or two
Does it sometimes 
Fly high 

Like an extraordinary Golden Eagle

Over all emotional 
Physical or Spiritual 
Battlefields 

As it goes-to-war 

With family 
Friends 
Religion or politics 

For true love never 
Yields 

Or three
is it just like a form of 
Fast Love
 
That just runs 
Jumps out the door and hits the road 

Looking for a new lascivious episode

After its heavy load 
Explodes 
When it's had its fun

And finally, 
Which one have you experienced 
 
Did love find you or betray you 

Like Judas Iscariot?

(C) 
Copyright John Duffy
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Dare To Dream

Dare I think of you? 
Lead into temptation 
I dance in danger 
of falling - 

falling, 

into a turbulent inducement: 
a tantalizing, dangerous liaison, 
yet awaking dormant, 
quiescent fantasy. 

Still falling 

free fall, no control, 
no safety net, no way back. 
Be still my beating heart... 
still - 

still dreaming 

of a life less ordinary: 
Latent passion lascivious and 
lazily seductive. 
Delicious sensuality...... 

but still sensible 

I return to familiar stability. 
Awake now, not daring 
to dream. Quietude 
calming my reverie. 

Time passes 

Passions fade, 
normality returns. 
Mundane convention covers 
clandestine delusion. 

Still now, 

Still in the safety 
of proclivity, 
yet always remembering 
that once I dared to dream
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Girly-Girl

Crown of gold curls in rainbow wrappers.
Girly-girl, at two, favored to be beautiful.
Eyelids delight to be painted baby-girl green.
Dolly’s lascivious lashes soaked in black ink.

Innocent strawberries dot baby-blue sleeveless top.
Soon, she’ll be strapless, primping at the vanity.
For now, she holds a mirror with her eyes closed;
her reflection not quite perfected; a natural blush

of lips, cherub-cheeks and baby-fat skin. Shedding
the green, pink, yellow rollers with angel hair bouncing
off her shoulders, and rolling out the hourglass figure
with a perfect pout and hips that shout ‘look at me.’

Indeed, at two years old, she looks in the mirror,
smiles, as her mother approves, and daddy sits
in his easy chair, not knowing to be bothered by
the impending storm of unsuitable guys at the door.

Premium Member Take Me to Xanadu

O, take me there, where mystical realms of starlight glisten
Pearlescent tapestries, indulgent in ethereal aura of Venus,
Emboldening me in celestial embrace, swept in your love,
As you ignite embers of passion, setting afire ardent souls;

When elatedly I speak, to quest amorous, of flirtatious eyes,
Greeting your smile, charmed in radiance of moonlit skies,
Humming rhythms esoteric, not heard, in quite some time,
Laudatory of fervid senses, blooming in tempest of desires.

There, as you recite preamble to our life, extolling paradise,
Together we rejoice, purity of joy, in blessings of Aphrodite,
Longing heavenly garden of Eden, themes amatory entice,
Scripting blissful allegory of love, verses enamored write.

Listen my dear, as love strums music, lauding a sacred bond~
O, sweet melodies, emanating from depths of our hearts,
Echoing memories of yesteryears, fondly treasured for long,
Tolling hymns affectionate, revered in life’s beloved song.

Thrum now dear, tunes intimate, hearts and minds surmise,
Exploring Milky Way, amidst purple dream-scapes of nebulae;
Take me to mythical gift of life, lascivious in moon’s delight,
O, take me to Xanadu, where love is the life’s ultimate prize.
Form: Verse

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