Long Pic Poems
Long Pic Poems. Below are the most popular long Pic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pic poems by poem length and keyword.
Kim (one of my BFF) brightened with inspiration, “Oooo! Send him a sexy pic!”
“I’m NOT going to sext a guy out of the BLUE,” I grumbled, indignantly.
Kim turned to her phone, “No, No, of COURSE not.” She said as she texted.
“Come on” she said, as she pulled me off my chair and out the door. We raced over, on foot, to my friend Bili’s house (two houses away). We entered without knocking (as usual) and ran upstairs.
Bili lay on her stomach on her unmade bed, fiddling with her phone, ankles up and crossed but she twisted up to attention when we came in.
“What should we do first?” She said, as if there were a million things to do.
They set upon me and had my regular clothes off in a heartbeat. Like all makeovers, this had a prelapsarian purity - the ritual stripping down to blankness before rebuilding.
They quickly went through about half of Bili’s closet - selecting just the right combination of trashy and classy clothes designed to seduce.
They finally settled on a black slip under an ivory peignoir, stockings with garters and black strappy heels.
Kim twisted my hair up into a loose “Gibson Girl.”
“Hold still,” Bili said, as she grasped my chin and expertly blended red, gold and black glittery eyeshadows followed by lip liner and gloss. “This is just a quickie job,” she reminded me.
I stared at this strange version of myself in the vanity.
Kim frowned and looking around, she spread a pink scarf over the desk light to give the room a rosy glow. They went into studio mode - posing me in various ways from coquettish to bored lounging - suggesting expressions and taking endless pictures with my phone.
Finally, they were satisfied and handed me my phone.
“Shall we go through them?” Bili asked
“Naah,” I said, “I’ll go through ‘em and pick one - or two.”
Later, at home, I looked through them - I looked SO different - and I had to admit - sexy even. But was that ME? I cringed, what if my mom saw these trashy, Kardashian-like photos somewhere?
I never sent them. I thought I’d have to explain it to my girls.
“HA!” They laughed, “We KNEW you’d never use ‘em” Bili said, as Kim shook her head “Nope.”
“It was fun though!” We all agreed.
.
.
.
NOTE: This is a pre-pandemic story from August 2019. I was 15 - the idea wasn’t to seduce this guy, it was to get his interest so he would ask me out . =]
In the meeting
of LUKA members,
Yves Kamunobe
stood up and started reciting, "
As I was sleeping ,
I heard an old man screaming ,'
Wake up Wamasanzi,
Wavira , Wafipa , wagoma
Watabwa, Wabuyu , Wabemba ,
Waholoholo , wabwali."
I saw the group of people following him.
They were speaking similar languages.
The old man said ,' don't allow
your enemies to divide you."
As I was walking ,
I saw a group of beauful ladies,
Who were singing
some cultural
Bwali songs.
I was over the moon
As seeing my beautiful sisters
dancing in bwali rhythm.
I open my heart to you my brothers-in-law.
You who wish to find wise
and good hearted women.
The way to Masanzi land is opened
The way to Vira land is opened
The way to Bemba land is opened
The way to Tabwa land is opened
The way to Waoma Land is opened
There are beautiful flowers
on those lands.
Yes!
Natural dark , chocolate,
and brown flowers...
I mean so lovely in and out.
Remember,
it is not marketing
But the choices
are yours.
As I was speaking,
Some men heard me
and they will rush to pick up
flowers of their choices.
Nice fragrance will impress
all their visitors.
This message seems
to be much Poetic
than Historic
Symbolic
than Philosophic
Romantic
than Tribalistic
Lovely
than Lonely.
Yes!
Marying each other will strengthen our Unity
Bajhoba and Wayao.
I am with Wayao today
telling the truth
as one of the beautiful creatures
that living this planet Earth.
I don't wish to close my breath
In front of some beautiful
Yao women at lake Nyasa beaches.
I dont think my future
brothers in law hearing me.
Marying each other will strengthen our Unity
Bajhoba and Wayao.
I don't mind to climb Yao mountain
to find the soap of my heart on the pic.
I don't mind to fly to NyasaLand
to find the flower of my choice.
What about you?
Remember !
The way to Masanzi land is opened
The way to Vira land is opened
The way to Bemba land is opened
The way to Tabwa land is opened
The way to Waoma Land is opened
Marying each other will strengthen our Unity
Bajhoba and Wayao.
I share my Mind
As I am so Kind
Living on Royal Land.
I thank you."
He walked with a swagger,
was a delinquent lagger
and recidivist wagger
all his schoolboy days.
Joyridin on the Pare’ bus
he’d skylark and cuss
just like one of us
as was his way always.
He was undeniably cool
but did shirk at school
and play the fool
from bell to ringin bell.
Widely well liked as a peer
and but for the odd jeer
had nothin to fear
but many a tale to tell.
He oft sat ready in class
but mostly half ar-se
and exams seldom pass
much to his own bane.
Almost always in a scrape
lookin to mock or ape
or some dare or jape
and felt a swingin cane.
He climbed out on a limb
and broke into the gym
then let his friends in
loadin up the bar.
Squattin and pressin away
liftin in the weight bay
‘til fun and horseplay
went a step too far.
He did the flyin fox cling
and leg and arm fling
on the rope swing
with collidin force.
For dear life hands hangin,
blokes fallin and clangin
into each one bangin
on the Confidence Course.
He was a hurler of eggs
and ‘til someone begs
did charlie their legs
but it was all in fun.
A water bomb he’d let fly
when he’d from up high
ambush a passer-by
abscondin on the run.
He his loyal friends also
under the gym below
did hide and stow
lest they all be found.
Then one guy in the loop
would dive thru a hoop
and the rest swoop
should it fall down.
He at lunch hour stood
all innocent and good
but not as he should
policin the tuck shop.
As monitor it was his job
to calm the unruly mob
but never tell or dob
suckin on his lollipop.
He was a classroom pest
out of uniform dressed
on his own little quest
and always in strife.
But in his heart he knew
what he needed to do
and this he would rue
the rest of his life.
He was a master pranker,
some say a wanker
but he did hanker
for somethin more.
Girls thought him sweet
and did fall at his feet
goin crazy for Skeet
but his spell had no cure.
~~~~
Pic above: The old Windsor Park Hotel is
in the background. It is 1977
and we are just 16 years old.
below: With friends below the trees
of Rangitoto College.
I know you don’t know Gikomba, Gikosh
It’s where we go to shop
For everything second hand and camera
Shirts, purses, suits, girlfriends, even senators
You must get there early when the sun is in the east
If you want to get something nice you must be the first pick
They all come in bales shipped from the west
We don't like to say they are used or cheap
You should see the new girlfriend I just nicked
she really is beautiful, she has all her teeth
She is quite a catch she is an affordable treat
A little bit used? yes but barely, she looks pristine
I can’t believe someone gave her away at just twenty-three
She has a few scars nothing that can’t be fixed
With a little care, a visit to my tailor, trust, and a new wig
I am so excited I must show all of the streets
I can’t wait to try her on once I am home, rested and clean
She comes with instructions in a manual you will never see
First, you must wear a wrapper, It is the wisdom from within
You see this people from the west are sometimes sick
Before you try anything from Gikosh, its proper
To wear protection for some infections we can't treat
Until you can make sure she is clean
Just like my mother did with my clothes from the streets
She cleaned my Sunday best first to lose that mitumba scent
To make sure my neighbours couldn’t see we couldn't get the new drip
Just so I could fit in with the rest not to mention also disinfect from disease
Like a good son raised right by her mother with respect for my street
I clean her up, to protect myself from her previous sin
Once I rinse her past, I teach her how to speak like me
I take her out for all my friends to witness her skin
They stand in awe of how designer she is
Like a reality star from Instagram or those fancy magazines
Oh My! I can’t wait for also you to see
My mtumba girlfriend after I take a pic
She is special, with character and is really unique
Not generic like the mass-produced brands you worship
Where you go shopping in the malls in the city
Yes your girlfriends look amazing
you don’t even have to check their teeth
They are never used they are never cheap
But still, none is like this new one I picked
I am already attached and I am pleased
You really should try Gikosh if you will
I recommend with 5 stars it is the dream
Here she come in a cloud of rage.
Who?
Violet.
Shut up, you know that’s my baby.
Hovering with her beauty as we speak.
She crazy man, she crazier than Sofia.
Monica, why show sour grapes for
my love of violet?
As a friend I have to tell you
that you sound plum, stupid.
As long as I can be her Prince.
Be her pick from all the shrub,
as music, strums.
She weeds through the fog, the haze
and with hungry eyes, see…
Ernie, you know how many
sorry saps that love Violet.
So, whine.
Throw an almost stormy fit
because you’re squished feelings are
comical to the girl with the long loosie.
Sit, calm they’re all pictured blue
for that tan, bimbo.
You mad cause she accidentally stomped on your donuts
that one time.
You dang right and how can you accidentally stomp donuts?
Well anyways for seasons as skies turn
she's always posted like she's the shine for the end of days.
Smirking at your egged face.
So plant it boy. Perp...pull back.
She don't want you.
You're not that girls primary focus.
2/14/18 "Sunrise and sunset" - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
To 32
What a way to appear on screen
With cascadic hair open umpteen
Wishing me on the festival of lights
Giving me extreme delights
Oozing with passion from looks I say
Glittering with fervour come what may
As name means the gracious one
Let me wish thee in ton
My joy multiplies due to greetings thine
Out of blue I verse just fine
After a huge hiatus we are together
Let’s save the bond ever after
This being the festive month
Has also seen thee taking birth..!!
To vt
Last night missed thy profile pic in yellow
Had I shot it, it’d have been a delight lo..!
At least today you install it
I look at the portrait so sweet
Wishing you the happiest festival of lights
Thy eyes itself are twin delights
The way you decorated thy porch
It seems you’re an angel arch
Blessed with looks of divinity
You excel in all chores pretty
Interior design or can control
None can ever match thy role
A Brahmin belle with Telangana twang
I devote thee this poetic song..!!
To subhashini
In pink attire ethnically adorned
Lamps lit by angel epitomized
With effervescent grin by graceful
Blesses me in a way lavish full
Glaring presence in my life sweet
Gloriously gleam in her grin glint
Falling short of words apt
To extoll this ‘sweet speaker’ intact
With plate full of lamps luminant
The belle in pink blue is valiant
As if my Lord Goddess has come down
To bless me this dynamic dawn
Accept my prostrations o divine belle
Want to be under thy charming spell..!!
To sjt
Looking gorgeously graceful
Jaw dropping is thy skill full
Creamlike colour adores thy neck
Thou are my Goddess I beck
Let me drive my poem home
Up to second I verse alone
Thy every shed is my subject
Surely makes you do reflect
Classic charm belongs to thee
And it just makes me verse spree
Motherly aura suffuses everywhere
When you give grin superior
Fortunate I’m extremely Deep
As you light the lamps in heap..!!
To mum3
Want to verse on thee
Trust me so immensely
Being my Lord Goddess
You’re ruling me I assess
I’m in thy charm to to
Seeing you as IAS is my motto
Through verses I can show
You thy real power so
Never underestimate I request
For you deserve the best..!!
where bones are picked cleaned by talons crook's of raven-wives like steely ice-picks dripping of the Valkyries verb-thieves of morpheme drain the meaning through sunken wind-eyes of cloudy skulls in the sky the bearer of speech-figures forums of a Norman's-ransack shutting one's eye bare-shirts run away to rid hawk's ground of Kenna's-abode
yore's measure-tree nigher are's not having scrapes-inn but all are vital framers-anvil lost tropes of the metaphor this saga was shy not a peep from windows of the folk so now I must not cut but again write not to RE:WRITE so some can better see learning knew ways breaking yokes free verse at first but now a inquisitive rhyme Word meanings fly away through windows of time snatched by Harpy's torn from memory buried in the field of a long ago rhyme but digging deep you find teasures stolen by Valkyries like a grotesque pic surely strown by death's scythe arm loads of gold stored ready weapons for another warrior which in another time may be erased but not today hold the sword's wife writing again holding high and protecting the courier of the quarrier by word of scop not to stop but increase your scope
Join me in making our planet our safest haven!
------------------------------------
You may be wondering what I am pensively looking at that far!
It's the new world where I want to take you from where we are!
It's a place where the weaker you are, you deserve more care!
If you are strong, in looking after others you have bigger share!
We see too many who want to grab a lot to satisfy their greed!
While they gorge with that glut, they deprive ones in real need!
We talk a lot now about the special people with special needs!
But there is so little of what we say that shows up in our deeds!
Unlike the wild jungle now that favors the survival of the fittest!
My people will believe that the frailest of us get the cosiest nest!
You would not yet find my visionary land at this time and place!
But we can put it all together here without venturing into space!
I feel sad why what I wish to happen soon looks far and distant!
Yet it can come closer and happen tomorrow if we've the intent!
Would you like to join me in making our planet our safest haven?
To get there we just need the will; neither a guru nor any maven!
---------------------------
The best place for a poem to live is in the heartbeats of those who love it!
Blessed are the poets whose verses are read, not on papers they just sit!
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There didn’t have to
be a reason
no one thing
no trigger
it was always boiling
just beneath the surface
always.
It could have been
the number of soldiers
lying empty on the desk
next to the ashtray.
You know the one
the one that left
the two scars
the one into which you
stamped your anger
hostility
hopelessness.
I could always tell
in the car
Adele’s playing
the hours will not pass
quickly
it will be a long night
a call to arms
a call in the morning
“I won’t be in today
something’s come up.”
And blood
would seemingly trickle
from the corners
of your
downturned mouth
from your hateful
eyes
from chewing on
the razors of your
merciless
rage and despair.
So many
candle impressions
left on walls
breaking windows
staining chairs
so many treasures
and keepsakes shattered.
Amazing how everything
was always ready
for a new scene
how you managed to
replace the facts
change the clues
change impressions
replace the views.
But then
you were exceptional at
evaporating the mess
outside scrubbed tidy
(inside would always
be ugly spiteful vengeful)
you were so thorough
so vigorous
through your efforts
appearances were kept.
Not me
nothing clean here
filthy with horrors
dirty with dread
scummy with fear
on the inside
never knowing when
the other heel was going
to drop or when
peacekeepers would
appear skeptical again
arrangements were made.
In the end
you wrote a play
I was the unknowing lead
the irony the comedy
the blasphemy
great theatre
it didn’t win me awards
you got me put away
what a drama!
Your performance epic
your sad woman’s show!
No sweat
took on the bout
no man could win
no sweat
it was the principle of it
I wasn’t lying down but
the judge she didn’t see it
my way
funny that
k’od.
Oh, but now!
But now!
I have today
freedom never
tasted so good
sometimes I’m amazed
that I don’t
have more scars
but then again
your aim was never
that good
was it?
(click on the pic to buy my poetry book!)
Your aura is contageous. Your sexy curvaceous body is outrageous.
Sweeter than nut-rageous.
So yummy are your creamy white thighs and up along the curve of your hips.
Your dreamy eyes to your delicious lips.
So edible, so damn incredible.
Like Nat King Cole your sex is "Unforgetable"!
MMM...Your kitty is on fire! I fill up your cup with my desire.
You match each rhythical thrust, slowly satisfying the hunger of my lust.
You're so wet, so tight, I'm about to bust.
I bury myself to the hilt of your moist mother earth.
You spread your legs wider taking all my girth.
This heavenly union consummates our souls.
Steadily moving in and out of your sweet honey hole.
Your sweet nectar flows free - along my shaft glistens your ecstasy.
I inhale your energy. The smell of our sex excites me.
Switching positions with you on top; Into your ignition goes my lollipop.
You move up and down my strong erect pole.
Your eyes rolling back in your skull
You run your nails across my chest
My tongue lathers your breasts.
I reach around and grip your soft a__.
You're whimpering in my ear and I'm not sure how much longer I can last.
You grinding down on me fills you up to the core.
My finger gently mssages your back door.
Back and forth - you're crying out.
"OMG!" Arching your back you shout.
Finally collapsing on top of me.
With you in my arms, we're soon fast asleep...
Note: Hope this piece does not offend anyone. I personally love "erotica" not
necessarily "****", I like the word and actions to be sensual not crude or vulgar...As poets I
believe we are more in tune with our desires and sexuality. It's our imagination, the fact we
are in tune with our feelings, emotions. Don't you think? Hope some likes this piece as I
enjoyed writing it. Poetry soup's fav convict Jimmy hehe!! You can see my pic and read brief
bio at prisonpenpals.com Look for my last name alphabetically or by State NC Thanks