Long Phallus Poems
Long Phallus Poems. Below are the most popular long Phallus by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Phallus poems by poem length and keyword.
Twas the night before my cousin's
wedding
He reluctantly gave in to the
bachelor party vetting
A burlesque, tawdry strip club was
the setting
Unbeknownst to him, the bridesmaid
was his appetite whetting
With gratuitous lap dance, began
the ribald feting
In drunken stupor, the enamored
groom his fealty forgetting
Released his inhibitions all of his
clingy garments shedding
Strode platform, in sync with
bridesmaids erotic moves duetting
In tantric rhapsody, she released
pheromones his testosterone
subletting
Enraptured with his riposte jaunts,
her matrimonial bond shredding
The enamored bridesmaid with lust
his bare essentials began petting
His betrothed parts to her
dominatrix will indebting
As the groom climaxed, his phallus
got entangled in her fish netting
Two truant souls now writhing;
spent body parts bloodletting
Dislodging their carnal chains, into
frothy night jetting
To hotel that lodged devoted bride;
their remaining passions bedding
Lurid, tawdry tryst not regretting;
but o'er bawdy exhibition sweating
Wedding contest
September 14, 2012
Let the Melancholics delight at your beauty tonight.
From the bossom of ecstacy down to the purity of heart
You are indeed a ravine work of art
A million words can't define you
Yes, beautiful can summarise your radiance
But the indepth of such rare beauty remains Unspoken
For no word is worthy enough in describing you.
Shall I talk of your body with an undiluted gut
I will say, a sight of you sparks an erotic fire
You are luscious in kindness, and your inclining anatomy evokes great desire
If I in appreciation of you, be permitted to speak with body language
I shall engrave my head on your supple breast
And never will my teeth scratch your teats in the act
I shall gulp from your udders passionately
Spend ample time on each subtle breast
Place pleasant kisses on your neck
And won't forget to suck on your lips softly and delightfully
I shall caress your darling breast and udder till you feel the impact in your spine
I will suck on your divine grove more and more like it's a great wine
This sweet moves will bring about screams of pleasure
I will do more till my name turns a melody in your mouth
Till you relish to suck on my mantle and bring out a sweet gamete
I shall artfully rock your boat to ecstasy
And immerse you in peak of ravine pleasure
We shall both scream with the voice of a siren
Your body ignite so much erotic fire
*Aduke* every bit of you is my desire.
As I write you this, know that my phallus is risen and enthusiastically waiting on your blessing.
it was not so much that his liver had succumbed to cirrhosis
the jaundice had resulted from hard core assault on his brain
no rose-tinted spectacles would ever restore his faulty vision
myopia in itself was not a problem but refusing its correction is
in his mind however darkness was reserved for the plague
hallucination was if one questioned superiority of White folks
then his worst nightmare became true at a gay bashing party
just when they started to burn an effigy of sexual aberration
ready to slaughter a ****** on the altar of self-righteous pride
already mocking and chanting for God’s straight creation
someone spiked his drink with LSD and his vision went wild
a prism of spectral rainbows danced and he dropped his guard
and his pants as a matter of fact and he fondled his mate’s groin
delirious with such panoply of diverse hues of flamboyance
gaudy radiance sent shivers of animation down to his phallus
which would not stand up to the pressure of diverse vibrance
he stuffed little blue pills down his throat but all he accomplished
was a giant headache and a pain in the backside when vibrations
on batteries stretched his soul’s sphincters in uninhibited pleasure
hetero phobia and racial oppression vanished once and for all as
he embodied the vicious hypocritical flatulence he had always been
disgraced and confined to an orange jump suit the iris of fantasy
came to confirm that he had never been the brightest crayon in the
box but exposed in unwilling iridescence he whined like a sheep
at the slaughter to the unforgiving applause of jaundiced demise
29th June 2021
(for Virginia Woolf)
She wanted to buy some flowers but drowned Herself instead,
drifting along the ebbing flow of time, with warm
water cracking Her slim figure and airless lungs.
‘will I freeze the river?’ She thought, wondering if the trees
would still rustle in the wind if She wasn’t alive to notice it,
thinking if Her man’s heart would still beat if She could
no longer shock its rhythmical thump-thud-stop with kisses.
the wood was chopped down around Her home. The
veranda from which She surveyed the world was but
deafened by cruel hacking chopping and sawing at the
hands of men whom took Her feminine beauty away.
She became the water as She died, became the weeds,
became the bark that broke her own back, the pen and the phallus.
‘this isn’t purgatory’ She realised, ‘this is revenge and reward’.
‘I am a sacrifice to literature. I am a sacrifice for the word’.
from writer to death to glory to ink
to the lies under rocks uncovered,
to god to me to the taking of Her own life,
She is the paper in our very hands.
Twittered Via Chilled Wren
At Valley Forge, Pennsylvania
Prior carte blanche to confessing illicit
extra-marital affair
I embolden tomb ache
elicit, and baldly bare
faced laid out some
of the sordid details clear
embarrassed at one escapade
in particular constituting dear
peppy's questing randy romping caper
necessitating vigilance 'ere
a park ranger, (or other unsuspecting
winter weather way
Farer attired in gear
adequately bundled
cold as a witch's tit
seasoned trooper)
reluctantly repeated here
(unforgettable if only be
cause this "FAKE" Casanova ace
thee Missus i.e.wife)
did conversationally chase
beseeched, hen pecked,
and implored me NOT to erase
boot to recount with (itty bitty)
Monty Python glory, a straight face,
that one particular amazingly grace
obviously penned up,
and not in the write
mind (pre poetry daze),
which scurrilous anecdote
did (and still does) in vite
guffawing, sans
peculiar public philandering,
with atavistic cave man
designs tried to unite
where daunting phallus spite
confronting Arctic Vortex when right
lee let loose from pants
froze like a little popsicle quite
purposely remained flaccid
leaving me in a penile plight
when trying to hump
(standing up like a good Knight
comically ridiculous travesty)
With Barbara B****, light
of adventurous Green Beret spirit, the
Unabashed MILF about average height
fifty years, whose busty bosom
silicone breast implants
tell tale viz radiation
and chemo therapy fight
(resulting from post
Ductal Carcinoma in situ)
needless to tell
nary an erectile spell
Asper tinker soldier
tailor spy didst quell
basic animal instinct,
and feral gonadal horniness
with intent to consummate sexual intercourse
according tummy ought to occur,
cuz that blustery air
mirroring said day when hell
nearly froze over invoking
intervention from Cain and/or Abel.
Thus when prick remained
limp and nearly frost bitten
(at a boulder christened cock rock),
aye frostily smitten
slogging wet sneakers, thru
knee high snow...now, no mo' tubby written.
Form:
...or It's good to be the king!
What was't made King Cole
Such a merry old soul
As he sucked on his pipe,
And he supped from his bowl,
And he fiddled around
With three young court musicians?
And what was the role
Of his missus, Queen Cole?
Was she under a table
With a lad from the stable
Who was told he'd be able
To upgrade his position?
These royal highnesses
Were not known for their shynesses,
But more for their quaint peculiarities.
The queen drank from a chalice
That was shaped like a phallus,
While he labored away
Doing king things all day
In a black lace brassière
And a pink negligée.
But their subjects adored
Such eccentric vulgarities.
Now, getting back to the king,
That sweet silly old thing,
Here's how his story played out.
He had good years aplenty,
Then at three score and twenty,
He finally retired
And expired of the gout.
How is love abundant
in the world full of snares
in a conglomerate oasis of identity faces
A coalition of humanity unraveled unhappy
Poor the souls adventure forth unknown
caring not for one another no one claims
Their sisters or brothers phallus hierarchies governmental force
Hatred on Earth a living hell
Love lost humanity hatred as risen its course
The complexity of the anguish and the pains
Yet remain humanity at strange
Demons forces inspiring grabbing embracing the hearts
Those the hearts of the living devouring the souls of the Dead
How can these misplaced individuals be offered off so they dread
In a confinement of denial love is held hostage place in a box and the key is lost
What have we now we have failed ?
Hatred on Earth the living hell
For love no longer exists all that exists is hatred in hell
3/1/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
…fighting for peace with guns is like bonking for virginity
it is a macho world but then women can be excellent killers
the barrel phallus washed from conscience dipped into blood
a thin membrane between defence and aggression heavily torn
who wants peace when they can enjoy the fun of armed forces
weapons of mass destruction with human waste collateral damage
in a second whole nations can be amended and revised into nothing
seized by the fire when the iron is hot in pursuit of violent pleasure
and yet bravery is the courageous merit of never surrendering to
war mongers who are in it for the profits power and domination
who send others to the apocalypse while counting their money
eye for an eye in need for cataract implants and retina detachment
like a condom greed sheathes acts of collusion violence betrayal
of upright values wrapped up in flaccid denial of liberty and life
constitutional rights terminate immaculate conception of freedom
to the rhythm of grenades shrapnel and heavy breathing in death
conscription leads the conquest of foreign fields and genocides
rape pillage and plunder sow seeds of slaughter and trenches
that divide marginalize discriminate in the name of civilization
happiness is a warm gun while the planet looks into the barrel …
27 April 2021
Countless generations lapsed since height of Greco-Roman mythology conceived, birthed and populated vast canopy of sky and expanse of terrestrial firmament, whereat obeisant propinquity quintessentially remains stalwart this day and age as guise dolls dote demonstrably come Valentine’s Day, when Cupid plucked from the quiver, notched in bowstring and launched Eros tinged arrow induces love struck swain to swoon upon a lassie fair, whence fecund female feast proliferates progeny.
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bona fide hormonal hankering didst since Adam and Eve a wake
aromatic, balmy, and captivating as effect from drinking sassafras
kin powerful pulsations viz diving rod erect phallus
creating con fusion pro bono er to enter lips engorged mass
Pussy swathed qua tangle of coiled, kinked, and thatched course grass
Willy wonka with vestal virgin hair line gonadal zone **** embarrass
twig and berries rutting, rusticating, routing and romancing intent
to deflower re: piercing hymen
with nary immune to perdition or déclassé
hello kitty edenic tropic of cancer coital compass
emitting pheromones culling asper a bong
clapping banging brass
intractable supremacy reproductive sport
waging whore with contemporary take
verboten fruit sexual pang thrust forward
omnipotent magnetic thirst to slake
unstoppable passions flared unfazed as annals
depict how hot coals feet did rake
despite hollow religious strictures obloquy,
the serum filled genitals did quake
infiltrate historical manifestations, naked humans
prey zing clear or opaque
deities of yesteryear demonstrable
bas relief showers copulation doth make
primal urges imbued *****sapiens
e’er since first man saw lady of the lake
triggering libidinal longing inducing salivation sans love struck drake
multi-tiered mouth watering orgasmic gastronomic carnal cake
Aphrodite spellbinding storied sport thrives inducing heart break
imbuing human guys gals feverish enthralled dizzy catnip behoove ache.
Upside Down World
The great man and conjurer of poetic license sat behind
the analytic couch and murmured to himself that it is
all about aggression and sex lots of sex for that grave matter
it shapes the world from underneath a smouldering gun
Phallus in metaphoric metaplastic hands ideas vibrate
‘what goes up must come down’ he pondered as he smoked
the cigar piped up dreams when a pipe is simply not merely
a flute and the lute brings luscious shadows to the fore
Eros meanwhile contemplates on regal roads from joy
to consciousness at ninety-six the styx is near enough
What has the world come to he’s no more sixty-nine
where is Freud’s promise as wars rage rampantly but
flaccid skin shrivels beyond tall towers of yesteryear
when hedonistic gardens slipped quietly from paradise
Eye-sight vanished hearing demised turgor spent and forces
only a distant reminder of battles fought for the human
condition he reads ‘ARGAIV’ on the blister pack he holds
with arthritic hands his heart attacks soft memories when
the nurse wipes him clean and he slobbers his tablets
It is a downside up world and time has tattooed Eve’s apple
upside down on his loins and the growing pain of a promise
once held of a better world with kindness love and compassion
Eros with Freud in his thoughts has again mixed up his drugs
as moaning angina takes over when he swallows his swan song
He should not have kept that one VIAGRA capsule maybe and
only his world in last rites is a much better place