Long Wet dream Poems
Long Wet dream Poems. Below are the most popular long Wet dream by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wet dream poems by poem length and keyword.
Things are moving at a rabid pace.
Motorists throttling throaty compact cars.
Coming up on you at Mach speed like their lives are on fire.
Like their time is more precious than mine.
Notice the clusters of yellow-vested workers
digging up the earth, laying miles of line everywhere.
A couple of them were in my backyard unannounced.
For two days they worked in silence.
I opened the drapes on the picture window
to let them know that I know what they're doing
And is probably no dang good for the people.
They glanced over and continued laying plastic veins into the black earth.
Letting me know that they don't care that I know what they're doing
is no dang good for the people.
In their frenzy, they trampled my infant rose bushes to death. They are death.
Just like those chem trails stitched across our sky are death.
Things are picking up pace.
They've already erased Honest Abe.
No more copper in the pocket.
Silver and the greenback are next.
Plastic only-more control-a globalist's wet dream.
They want to know when you're buying
what you're buying
and how much of it you're buying and at what price.
Restrictions, red-flagging, and rationing are next.
They'll say it's for our own good; they are our slow death.
Big Brother is not only watching but is smothering us.
They want to kill the middle class and individuality,
Cull the herd, shame and arrest the songbird in all of us.
The Dilettante Diaries: "Finding Lost Keys on the Steppes of White Ivory"
Where do you place your hands
When the sands of time
Slip through the 4th
and like reading braille
you silently derail
to touch burning
black keys
on white ivory
you go about
removing cold hands
from the warm pockets
of trapped complacency
looking for
double sixes
roll the dice
tumble the love cup
upside down
soft-sucked
sugar cube
black tea leaves
soak up your
bespoke wet dream
slam danced
you're romanced
up against graffiti
walls, you
take a chance on
shadow dancing
with another hand
tired of shuffling decks
cutting cards with
Half-hitched knots
and sinking boats
that pass for
tiger sharks
playing for
white ivory
on the cool
Siberian Steppes of
silent aching skin
shimmering
secrets sans
translucency
and buzzing bees
burning
stings
the wanting
humming silently
secrets and
all those
lost black burning keys
within …
(Lovejoy-Burton/October 2018)
God wears the bling,
Its a constitution ting,
King Chazza going to fix it,
Give the corgis their biscuits,
Now he's got the crown
He can turn that frown upside down,
There's no way his Regal reign
Will get washed down the drain
The Patri, mono and hier archies
Rely too much on his malarkeyGod wears the bling,
Its a constitution ting,
King Chazza going to fix it,
Give the corgis their biscuits,
Now he's got the crown
He can turn that frown upside down,
There's no way his Regal reign
Will get washed down the drain
The Patri, mono and hier archies
Rely too much on his malarkey
To dazzle the curious populace
That might wonder if now its the time and place
To shed the over familiar embrace
Of a pale, stale, overripe monarchy
The media's wet dream fantasy
Filling front pages with hyper hysteria,
'Did Andrew deflower a teenager under the wisteria...?'
What will it take for everyone to see,
He's no emperor and, without clothes on
He's as naked as you and me....
Driving down that familiar road,
For miles and miles and miles it goes,
You forget about keeping your eyes on your travels,
On that same old bumpy patch of gravel.
That highway stretches from your teenage woods
On the passage way near your worthless bale of goods
Speeding past boring scenery,
Near the knoll of fast girl greenery.
Don't fall asleep, it's later than it seems,
You don't want to be caught in a wet dream.
The rain falls every now and again
So both hands on the wheel and until then,
Keep your phone unlocked and ready to call
The heartbreak police, if your soul does fall
Into the broken down lane, where passerbys smirk
And your passenger pretends you're not really hurt.
There's potholes down by the seven year stretch,
So swerve to avoid them with lifelines to catch
You'll find lots of help, on mile marker two
Right near the corner of the free girl zoo.
But you've driven this rig since before your first spring,
When you ignored all the signals and didn't answer it's ring.
On this patch of land, the lights are on dead
While visions of fakery dance in your head.
Now it's time to trade in, time to give up
On smiles and giggles and laughter and love.
You put on many miles, changed many flats
But the old dying ship, won't give anything back.
The seats full of tears and years of abuse
There's only so much one driver can lose.
It's time to sell it, before it's too late
Even winners will lose, if only to fate.
Fate’s Game
by Odin Roark
Like innocent spray atop a tsunami curl,
You ride your controlled serendipity,
Delivering surety in an unexpected twist,
Destiny’s setup for drama that follows.
Never satiating your alacrity,
You fish-oil-coat your barbed cunning,
Slipping lathered lures easily
Down gullible throats of anticipation.
For you,
Making another landfall
Is just another layer
Added to your flotsam-beach theatrics,
Designed like playful foreshadowing
For a planned second and third act dénouement.
Oh how you chortle
Amid your game of certainty,
Bedding the unsuspecting like a predestinate,
A loan-out reality guised in wet dream duplicity,
Arousing our trust,
Yet never awarding a curtain call
Of our own choice.
Quandary persists.
After all,
Like nature’s often sardonic casting,
You are fate,
The ever-floating understudy,
An ineluctable wave-curl in waiting,
An unrevealed power we know not of
Until…
As I dare to dream
A full-time fantasy.
A wonderful wet dream.
Perfect aspirations
of a single wish,
to start each day with
but a taste of your lips.
I dare not go further
beyond perfect bliss.
As my desires
demand more
of what I wish.
If I could wrap myself
around you,
I would be content
as your skin.
Caressing the surface
of your softness.
Loving the pleasure
of our tender
warm embrace.
I’m lost in your love
and taken to
another place.
Paradise is you and I,
where ever we are,
there’s no one
in the whole world
but us.
As I dare to dream,
I’ve never been
to heaven.
Instead,
I spent the night
making love to you.
Life is a bastard son, prodding the fertile horizon
poking into places tender, tearing the expanse of dawn
he taunts, rude and bellicose, so full of himself
spewing into the weakest streams, a wet dream.
With platitudes he prances, son of a fearsome father
promising eternity, singing a lover's song of praise.
Light bearer, holder of the golden scalpel, night cutter
leaving glare where softness once held sway.
May the abyss, the gentle dark, the yin forgive you..son.
From the pear-shaped loins of sister Eve, you have burst
washed in the waters of she, a caul of white adorned,
pray, stay your hand, do not bludgeon your better half.
Existence, endless, fleeting, meld and join this randy pair
for universes swing between this bastard and his dreams.
Dedicated to my muse Brenda Atry
please read her "Black Diamond Night"
I am the Alpha/Omega - the first of its kind
The Gods and Goddesses have made up their mind
They give me this role and the sacred knowledge of the Craft
I will always say it how it is - I will never wear a mask
I won't waste my precious energy trying to be someone else
And I refuse to use magick to hurt someone else's health
I will not be the first one who throws a punch
But once one does - your world in the palm of my hand CRUNCH!
'Cause I can be a terrifying nightmare or a seductive wet dream
With me - everything is as it seems
I don't need a hidden agenda - or the desire to bully others
I'm kind to you, if you're kind to me - be kind to one another
I truly do not need to socialize
I've got more important agendas to rectify
I've always wanted to know why humanity is afraid to be alone
I'm the best version of myself when I'm alone in my zone
As a child my mother always asked why I didn't desire friends
'Cause each "friend" winds up with an agenda at the end
Everyone is after something - believe me or simply disagree
In my nearly four decades of living - it continues to happen to me
Fvck around - and the Gods and Goddesses will surely let you see
I don't owe anything to you - so I truly don't care if you believe
And I awoke from the dream… a wet dream
Envisioning her body against my own moments ago
Is there more to love then spoken from within?
Can The Ancients be any lesser then the ones we behold?
Have I choice my ways wisely I now wonder?
Or is there another option I could have taken otherwise?
Once again is the never world to leave me in ponder
Yet this journey to begin with, isn’t to be a path to defy
Walking away with her behind me
Was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life!
Words unsaid to say, thoughts unseen to see
Had I even known the consequence to even undermine?
Yet now… she is to know what I’m unable to give
I guess I have clearly thicken the line drawn between us
Though of moments we express to remember I’m soon to miss
Yet, our lifeline as companionship is longer in time to outlast
Irony belongs our destiny in this ever quest
Always the presented time to be in moments too late
Was there a life once to remember of peaceful rest?
Was there peace I had vow once with my life to make?
Everything I believe has to have a cause to begin
And aren’t I the one to control and manipulate the cause?
Perhaps The Ancients is more than simply dreams therein
Why else would there be love to live moments to be lost?
…………………………………………………………
That's that good dose of medication,
That stimulation,
That creme,
That protein
That good love that makes you Fein
Like a wet dream.
That **** that makes you cum
In your panties and jeans.
That mmmm that makes you wanna sing.
My Mr. Good Thing.
That relaxing touch.
Huh
Like a xanax pill.
That's that good -good,
That make you cook a full coarse meal.
That one hundred
That real.
Have you head over heels.
Make you suck his dick so good
Have him paying all your bills.
I'm so overwhelmed
By the joy that he brings.
I'm a black woman
Who honors her King.
He is mines, and mines alone.
My Mr. Good Thing.
No one can ever take his place
Or come in between.