pretty Polly practiced planting posies
purple primrose, pink petunias, plants protected by
prideful, placid, preening peacocks.
produce provided by Polly’s plentiful garden
pleases Peterson, plant president of Puffin Produce.
Categories:
practiced, word play,
Form: Alliteration
I generally don't write sensual poetry. But I did this for a contest on another site and it got some positive feedback so I thought I would share here.
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Hello there, Cutie
Do you see my eyes
Between your thighs
Observing shrewdly
I know that it's near
You love my dispatch
Your rapid breaths catch
With shivers down here
I rise for the last
Your leg hooks on mine
Like thousands of times
I enter, you gasp
You're my piano
Who cries out my music
As we press pubic
Areas just so
You fit like a glove
We are almost there...
My hands in your hair...
Yes...thaaat's it, my Love
I follow behind
Your shudders and shakes
Our pleasure it makes
Quite sure you are mine
Your breath like the breeze
The flush in your skin
The wetness within
I bring it with ease
Categories:
practiced, love, sensual, sexy,
Form: Rhyme
First came a moon
Then it was the second
Words called me night and noon
Pink pearls of passion
First it tasted blue
Then as birds joined the moon
Your love in view
Oranges in dune
Shadow in the tea
Your chiselled poems
Crazily desiring me
Your lovely haemoglobins
I gaze at the crane
Flying in the blue
Lovely coloured rain
Angelina in queue
They come and hold my hand
Lead me to the colour
Both bright and bland
I cannot but love her
These moon gathering sessions
Of the practiced passion
These smelling obsessions
Of your rhododendrons
Are my moons in your smile
Of the poetry on your lip
Like the river Nile
A twilight in my ship
_____________________________________
14/11/2016
Contest: Practiced Passion
Sponsor: Frank Herrera
Categories:
practiced, bird, flower, image, passion,
Form: Rhyme
Practiced Passion
Faking it.
John G. Lawless
11/13/2016
Categories:
practiced, humor,
Form: Monoku
I have tried taking a picture of things,
without picturing it; clicking a button,
and stopping time for a moment,
in a coiled film.
I enter a faint, red-lit room,
carefully lay down the films,
and watch the paused moments
come to reality.
Deep inside the photographs,
I see myself looking for a picture
I would want to live gazing at,
in my lifetime...
Categories:
practiced, art, beauty, identity, imagery,
Form: Narrative
You’re dressed in gray, and
tattered like the clouds
that hover above you.
Frozen
with the look of a person
who knows of his own
approaching death.
Like the willow that cradles
dawn's mist of unwept tears—
a practiced sorrow,
earned from decades of watching
the slow meandering river,
as it draws closer,
and the banks weather and fall.
Categories:
practiced, loss, nature, sad, sorry,
Form: Free verse