Long Licentious Poems
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These, cacophony that beggars descriptions
Disorder from indecent breed incubating,
Confusion of morals, the imposition of strange culture,
Filthily dressed to undress my mind,
Our teacher teaching theories of writs and wits
These promiscuous pastors parading piety with nudity
Lewd licentious and libidinous species luring laurels with drama,
These traditional priests tutoring the innocent as the skilled orthodox guru
Folly forming and fuming fire on the podium of cerebral
These gangs of immoral breeds hovering over men with enthusiasm
The sick physician administering drugs on the ignorant,
These,
A coup against Coleridge,
Wired Wordsworth,
Barron as Blakes
Shapeless Shakespeare,
With excessive deluxe paint like a red zone hawker,
These fashions clogging the pump of poetic flow
With the garbs of a seductress
Allays my feet to the "gutter-most" pit of whores
These, who feigned folly as fashion forcing Mr Flesh, to a quickie,
Teach me the lyric and lines and morals too
Inspire my curious heart in poetry and NOT the contours of shapeless show
Evoke in me a desire and arouse my intellect and NOT to lust
Induce me with scintillating lyrics and NOT to the nightmare and dreams of a succubus
Tempt my heart to scholastic loyalty and NOT to the apple of Eden
Conjure the parley of mutated minds with words
Come again to the conference in art and rags of skilled minds
I adjure you, be Natural
I don got nothing but terrible
reviews bruited about
dip pressing field day
me (Lothario wannabe)
trumpeted execrable lout,
a garden variety baby
boomer father without doubt,
his own shameful paternal
shenanigans cavalierly he did flout
dwarfed teapot dome scandal,
thus one look no further,
or send out a scout
herewith infractions distilled,
though personally, I strongly advise
ye to go trout
fishing in America,
with a master bait
tour and/or subsist
on circa 1521 a.d. vintage date
diet of worms, well preserved
nearly five centuries
since team did excavate
cuz his narcissistic
propensity, brought fate
fool downfall wool find you
fist pumping imaginary pugilist great
reflexively recoil, at the ingrate
asper adultery, terrible
black barbs caused psyche dial late
bacchanalian debauchery,
marriage did mutilate
philandering prurient lechery,
et cetera (albeit kinky),
he did participate
heatedly enough to generate
electricity to induce perms
in every man, woman,
and child, or make poker straight
tightly coiled locks, whose weight,
sans comb bind
terms oven destined
with hot sizzling endeavor to find
my inner Elvis a vis with curled lip,
and daily pelvic grind
tryst ting mounting with hind
quarters sighting derriere
rearing to groove while inclined
at a sixty nine degree angle hull lined
for maximum fair moan to get mined
licentious behavior spurred from celibate
marriage, hence call of the wild pined
tubby satiated, and
subsequently huss signed,
thus within web of treachery
"FAKE" Casanova did wind
up gaining independence as
a Norwegian bachelor farmer.
Salt flavor on the beach inside the tent
Beneath the folding flesh, a taste
Licentious fever measured on the oiled skin
Blankets grasped by fingers in the grip of love
Ocean breeze, wave and breath of passion crest
Overflow into the nature of the lady and her man
To the edge they crash with every hunger craven
Coupling never ends, hidden under sun in heat
Lovers stop, only to softly speak each other’s name
Then start again inspired, desires repeated in the tent
Clinging to release each other's open lust upon the blanket
In a summer sweat
Created on 2/28/15 for Hotsy Totsy – Poetry Contest – Sponsored by: Rachel Firmin
YOU ...
are a mystery, a spellbinding novel
each new chapter more enigmatic than the last
I read you with my fingertips
pausing to regard the inches, to savor each
like a meaty word that I turn over in my thoughts
in careful consideration ... of its flavor
with the gentle brush of my palm
one precious span of your opaline flesh is added unto the next
inch linked to dynamic inch ...
like the flowing, voltaic sentences of a master wordsmith
the journey of each phrase of your contours
bespeaks to my core a torrid tale of longing, pure ...
a hunger to delve ever further into the sultry, shapely, sinewy saga
that your alluring body whispers to me -
whispers and sighs, with its subtle, spicy shivers
to realize the destination of this epic journey
to unravel the mysterious and beguiling narrative
that your anatomy conveys to my core
the sublime, licentious and seductive story that is ...
YOU.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Mid November 2018 Any Form Or None" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Mid December Premiere" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Prompted by Tom Cunningham's poem 'If Only Dreams Came True.' A reverie about the demise of Putin. Thanks for the inspiration, Tom.
Tis true that sometimes history is repeated
Putin and Rasputin were cruel and conceited
Both were quite licentious
Vulgar and pretentious
One now lies dead, the other must be defeated
Rasputin was a political saboteur
A diabolical trait of Vlad's, to be sure
Despised by his own nation
Death by assassination
A more barbarous death for Putin, I'd prefer
Now his broken tail bone is in need of repair
I hope he's worried and wary, because I swear
My anesthetizing gas
Would rid the world of his ass
Fulfilling the prayers of people everywhere
If you are alive and on earth my brother
You better take every risk to succeed,
Even if you do not court any hazard
Existence is the biggest risk you must heed.
Some things about this life are just not fine.
You may gather remarkable wealth over time,
Skipping meals and working instead of sleeping
Until you end up with such abundance of dime;
But then your Jeep loses one of its speeding wheels
And you end up on the ice-cold slab of the morgue.
Some other lazy folks take over your hard-earned estate,
As other licentious rascals comfort your wife with a sinful song.
The biggest risk my uncultured brother
Is the fact that you live here on earth;
Here heavens give you the grace to make the world better,
And soon after the labor demise trims your mirth.
Something about our earthly existence is simply not alright.
You start the maturing of some expensive whisky, forty years in all;
If you are fifty, be sure other never-do-wells will sell your whisky,
Don’t think Azrael will watch you outlive the ninetieth fall.
So those impatient chaps will imbibe your distillation without gratitude,
Not even mentioning the name of the deceased fellow who brewed the thing,
And cursing the ‘idiot’ who made such a crisp thing to be by others imbued;
Not even humbled by the fact that the whisky is far much older than they!
Living is the greatest peril, man.
And if you dare attempt some funny suicide
To do away with the unbearable menace,
What do you think the final Judgment Council will decide?
That a brazen murderer you should burn forever.
You might be irreligious – but it’s a possibility still!
Libidinous pleasures soar on sensuous lips
Red as her favorite flowing dress, licentious as she is
Bright eyes of wonder launched with a glowing smile
Blushing cheeks turn pink reflecting on our longevity together
Serene skies remember everything of the pastel past
Sings of beauties pleasures soft as fairy wings back there
There is much more to love than simple kisses in history
Passions build beguiling, flavors of rainbows colored age
Secrets safe with our caresses, borrowed softly on romances breeze
While daisies dance above the world, subtle as a virgins skin
Arm in arm we fall beneath green grasses hidden
Picnics are enhanced with red wine and cake
And loves embrace never satiated
My lovers splendor comes on a gentle touch that we call love
Created and Entered -The Colors Of Love poetry contest on 6/7/16 - Sponsored by: Casarah Nance
Febrile Fog obfuscates palimpsest varnished promises..
Naysayers hoodwinked... deluded players peeling layers..denuded..
Deafening din of our chagrin...
Espoused by rabbles roused by mandarins’ sins..
Tarnished...pampered pilferers pickpocketing public purses...
Deploring the warring cacophony of citizens curses..
Ignoring the boring nagging nadir of nurses...
Corporate castles built without stilts on hourglass sands..
Placards versus lanyards..
Culprits preach parsimony from privileged pulpits..
Civic critics.. protests...pyrrhric..?
No tut tuts..relax…gluts of tax cuts for property sluts..
Licentious larcenists..lust for boom then bust..
Lavishly lacing our lives with lies..
Yet the more we holler...hanker..
Murky truths get darker...muckier.. starker..danker..
Avaricious arsonists torching our cries of why...
Leave us lolloping in a regret & forget.. leaking latrine...
Reeking of what could & should have been..
Written: May 23, 2024, For Charlotte Puddifoot Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Always hear hollering hellhounds, yet nothing close, nobody home,
Paranoia, psychosis, schizophrenia, ponder lacked lucidity, pleaching, poohing...
Haggard horrors haunt house vapid vacuous voices vision vortex brain echolalia blizzard blurred,
Tongue-tied thesis tumbling thioridazine fragmented far-fetched foolish.
Calling a crisis center schizoid living outward echoing elusive illicit improper illusions,
Covert contact, surreptitiously scrambled temporal touch twisted, crazy confusion,
Crushed stone stillness devours daylight dubious demons daring devastation temped talking back
Lurking, leering, licentious, catatonic, gloom, diabolical hostility Asymmetry alien attack,
A hebephrenic sponge spotted sapidity, created from amorphous stardust
Spiritual medium anathematizes purest spirit, holy sight scrupulousness
Highly sensitive slip-hold around ethereal auric field questing for quetiapine quiddity,
Seraphic spirit shined with cyan mystical majesty under full light lavender moon,
Quid pro quo, eugenic resile lobotomized deflated phosphorescent schizophrenia
Ignoring magnificent mind suffered puerile mental wellness, without grasp: why!
I am grateful
I was born
Flung in doleful
Ferocious land
Born to face ignominy,
To be deceited
By licentious village boys
Who are only born to ice
I was born a girl
I wish I were not
With abhor
I look myself
Born in threat
Meant to struggle
Their voices mumble
And i'm left idle
My feelings are rose
I crumble
Of course i'm scorned
I stumble
I bled, I lost my dignity
My blood is blemished
I'm violent, up to infinity
No longer calm, I'm into crime
Because I'm female
I was given life.
I was given life,
And I was given pain
Hell hath no fury
Like a woman scorned
Because she was born in pain,
She was born in struggle