Nymphomaniac Poems

God's Grace

I am lost without God's grace.
As cocaine makes drug addicts happy, 
As war satisfies the appetite of an army,
As meta-sensualism quenches the burnings of a nymphomaniac,
God's grace is the codeine for my soul.
I cannot do without it. 
I will seek God's grace every day until it ferries me to eternity.

Grandpa

Grandpa’s got engaged,
Giving the family a panic attack.
Ninety four and marrying
A teen age nymphomaniac.
They all got together in one
Of those family conferences
To try and bring grandad
Back down to his senses.
Sex with that woman could be fatal
His oldest daughter said
Grandpa looked amazed
And then sadly shook his head.
It's just one of those things
He said, much to their surprise,
It’s just a fact of life, my dear
If she dies, she dies.

La Belle Du Bal

The sexiest woman alive
That knows her worth
Alexa What a grace
Skin so delicate and fair
Green eyes silky blonde hair
A romantic charismatic soul
Beautiful blonde of the Year
Most photogenic nymphomaniac
Perfect ambiance in casting couch
Alexa grace La Belle Du BaL...
Poem By Abad Ur Rehman Khan...

A Smoker Prostitute

Her luring loin
And her customers’ seduced groin
Once again join
With a freshly released gold coin,
Even as she wasn’t his type
For being  a smoker of a pipe
To whom final quitting could never be ripe,
Until cancer took its paw swipe
And off her illusory joy wipe…

A nymphomaniac reaching out to ointments
Ahead of fixed appointments
For the enveloping of smell of cigarette
And show to valued customers that she could be considerate!

Follow Up To Networking Nancy - Bawdy

Nancy’s a nymphomaniac
Who networks when flat on her back
Her motives are shady
And Nan ain’t no lady
She always gets blokes in the sack

Yes, Nancy’s a bit of a lass
Three stock cupboard guys get her ‘pass’
She has hanky-panky
With Tom Dick and Frankie
Guess Nancy is just pure badass

NB Terry suggested in his comment that I wrote about Networking Nancy getting up to mischief in a stockroom - BUT I was already working on the poem ... proof great minds think alike!

05/27/21

Beautifully Convoluted

Eyes of mischief
Lips like sugar kisses
Folds of velvet
Peach sweeter than honey
Personification of sex
She is beautifully convoluted

Dirty mind full of sin
Soul of an angel
Drown me in your magical eyes
Worlds entwined till the end
Drive me crazy with your thoughts
She is beautifully convoluted

Naughty desires
Stir passionate fires
No one compares
Tastes of sweet nectar
Waiting to explore
She is beautifully convoluted

Wanton mind
Raunchy mouth
Soul of a minx
Nymphomaniac desires
Embarrassed by simplicity
She is beautifully convoluted

A Christmas Wish

Teenage boys have a Christmas wish
For a nymphomaniac dish
Though Santa's elves
Have searched their shelves
The best they can do is, "Go Fish"

So Many Personalities

So many voices, some pulling, others pushing, one spearing.
I feel the spear, and know she will not stop until I acknowledge her
What is it? 
What do you want?
She gives me some directives knowing I will rebel 
and rebuke them.
She never gets her way.
She wants me to do things she knows I will not do.

I hate medicines! I tell her. They do not affect me like others.
Leave me alone! But still she persists. Two are pulling, one is pushing.
She is screaming, shrieking, wailing, keening in my ear.
I take a couple of blues and a pink, 
to try and fool her.
She knows what I am about.
For she is in my mind’s folds and recesses.

Another personality shows up.
A new one.
What the hell.
I thought I knew them all.
Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!
My hands are shaky.
If she is another spearing one, 
I give up.
I cannot do this any more.
I have tried too long already.

I am Sherenna, she says, seductively.
Hell no. I already got rid of Dixie, my other nymphomaniac.
I close my eyes, trying to drown them all out.

Threesome

A bored nymphomaniac from Bude
Had so many boyfriends they queued
I once heard it said
She liked three in a bed
Which seems just a little bit rude

Nymphomania

I have been called a sex god
It has been said that
I radiate an aura of pure sexuality
I stopped telling my friends stories of my exploits years ago
Because they don't believe me
For instance
My last lover was a 54 year old paraplegic actress
I once gave a girl dozens of orgasms within a single minute
And can reproduce this feat at any time on any woman

Every inch of my body is fantastic
Like a machine fine-tuned for sexual pleasure
My sex drive is monstrous
Unending
Makes me crazy
I only stop to smoke cigarettes once every few hours
And I don't have a refractory period

All this is true
I'm probably a nymphomaniac
But it doesn't matter
Because I hate people
Because I hate dating
Because I have nothing to prove
Because the cosmos are indifferent
Because economizing sex disgusts me

I'm generally quiet
Try to keep a low profile 
But inside 
a Martian sex dragon
Breathing passion and lust
Inside
Roaring madly alone, tortured
Clawing at my skin
Chomping on my bones
Gnashing on my brain like a chew toy

I pretend not to care
I like to think it doesn't have an affect on me
But it is me
And I hate it
And I love it

A Nymphomaniac

My sacroiliac is really quite outta whack
My body used to resemble that of a lumberjack
As time goes by
The pain intensifies
Till I'm screaming out loud like a nymphomaniac

Depravity

Pearled Diana, What dost Thou want from me?
A whirl of fresh air descents from your perfect symmetry
Phantomed voices; dance now my mind vocally
Like statue-esque echos from beloved house Báthory.
For is it truly You, who speaks so woefully?
a portrait; the Goddess bathed in sky filled jewelry,
Nymphomaniac, Necrophilic graced by Death supposedly.
"I - the Filth in Her womb blessed with grave poetry."
or is it but me, isolated by Death's ovary.
Mother Moon, for Thou I refuse it to be!
Now I know Lady death clawed me unknowingly...

This pale seductress in black spectres my anxiety.
Depression, Suicide, The Razor's depravity

Pure Serenity

Words of passion fell from his lips 
Tenderly he had his hands on my hips 

Pulling me close;no space in between 
Reminiscent of a romantic movie scene 

I felt his love grow like a mountain 
Anticipating drinking from his fountain 

He lovingly caressed the small of my back 
Releasing my long repressed nymphomaniac

He fully pressed his lips to mine
Shivers ran up and down my spine 

Slowly he lowered me down to the bed
Passion's desire would soon be fed

He placed his hand on the inside of my thigh
With burning pleasure I gave an erogenous sigh

Our bodies soon became intertwined 
At that moment our lifeforces were combined 

I had never felt such immense ecstasy 
Fathomless release and pure serenity 

       6/20/2016 - for That is Sexy contest

Villanelle: the Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 46

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 46

Will COP leaders be around in five years nine
Their great careers made Their statues unveiled
To what future Super Men our backs supine

Apparatchiks clubby diplomatic kind
Allegiance to rival parties well-coiled
Will COP leaders be around in five years nine

Spying on one another to undermine
Using public forces to keep peoples embroiled
To what future Super Men our backs supine

Stock-piling nuclear arsenals to churn brine
While oceans lash out the people will be boiled
Will COP leaders be around in five years nine

Mighty men who pat each other to outshine
One another in local Catch-rings all coiled
To what future Super Men our backs supine

To what then duped masses owe their fated grind
If not to nymphomaniac egos well-guiled
Will COP leaders be around in five years nine
To what future Super Men our backs supine

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015

Felicity Undead

Since I have bad luck with women, I decided to build one.
But after I brought her to life, I said "What have I done?"
I used dead body parts to build her and I brought her to life with electricity.
At first I was very happy and I named her Felicity.
But I accidentally gave her the brain of a Nymphomaniac.
Whenever she sees a man, she always jumps in the sack.
Men don't mind one bit that she's undead.
They just like it because she goes to bed.
I thought she'd be faithful, what am I going to do?
If you're a man, she'll definitely want to nail you.

(This is a fictional poem)

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