Lust Prose Poems | Examples
These Lust Prose poems are examples of Prose poems about Lust. These are the best examples of Prose Lust poems written by international poets.
Left again to watch
the sun's red demise,
wandering eyes turned
to the west
and ponder anew
what destiny lies
were fate but to offer her best.
Left again to sow
the sinners desire,
a wandering archetype
of lust,
to follow a path that
Aphrodite inspires,
withholding only her trust.
Left again to reap
in impossible haste
the spoiled fruits of his dreams,
insistent
on one more ambrosial taste
to silence the sounds of her screams.
Left again bewildered,
angry and damned,
trapped in his own obtuse plan,
reflecting on violence
his passions had fanned,
and the sunset
he sees in his hands.
How does one describe the beauty of love
Words are just not enough
It's an overpowering and divine emotion
Leaving us overwhelmed with lust
As hard as we try to avoid love's power
There's no escaping it's grip
Ultimately even the mightiest succumb
And into love's clutches they slip
There's only one cure, it's complete surrender
Or you'll always regret your choice
A missed opportunity will haunt you forever
To drink in it's passion and rejoice
Our existence and main reason for living
Is to satisfy this burning desire
To find that someone's who's meant for us only
Adding much fuel to life's fire
For Laura
Timeless Union
At sunrise,
gazing out the window,
the sky bathed in its
reddish-orange hues,
as the sun
and the full moon
shared the sky.
My bare arms
cradled your bosoms,
like the sky
embracing both
the moon and the sun.
When my tender lips
gently pressed behind your ear,
the warmest of my breaths
awakened shivers in you.
Gracefully, we swam
with gentle motion,
rolling and breaching,
like humpback whales
on an arduous migration,
yearning for love’s embrace,
culminating in an exquisite
timeless union.
ka~rum
Stroking your petals drenched in dew,
a gentle breeze came near me,
carrying the fragrance of your nectar.
Gently stirring me awake.
Captivated by your essence,
I came near you like a hummingbird,
to savor the sweetness of your bloom.
Though the hummingbirds press lip to lip,
savor the nectar, and fly away,
I embraced you with both my wings.
It was love that I held for you.
You said nothing and nor did you push me away.
As I held you close to my breast,
the thorns of your tender body
pierced the depths of my chest
and I fell lifeless to the ground.
A soft smile lingered on my lips,
fading gently like the last light of the dusk.
As my final breath slipped away,
I saw your petals adorned in crimson,
dyed red with my blood.
Blooming with quiet satisfaction,
for we had finally become one.
ka~rum
I thought anger was a negative emotion
to be avoided at all costs.
Then I thought about the oppressed.
Anger grew inside of me.
I chose to act upon that anger.
I used my voice to speak against the oppressor.
Even so, I measured my motivation
tempered my response with love and wisdom.
My desire, beyond the lust for recognition.
If my words gain recognition,
I will purposefully pass them to the oppressed.
Their stature and power shall rise.
Their voices will gain resonance.
It is not their guilt and shame to hold.
Prejudice is a horse without a rider.
Fear and hate power its hooves.
Sadness flows through its mane.
Righteous Anger must take the reins.
Once again the oppressed will have pride.
There will be no aversion to kindness.
Greed will be replaced by generosity.
To go against the will of God
will be counted as an embarrassment.
A new light will shine upon the world.
Peace and purpose are indeed possible.
Unseeking Seeker’s “Consciousness Correction” Poetry Contest. Written November 22, 2023.
My friend told me I have never loved in my life
And that is why I have never felt the need to mix bodily fluids
I find that strange considering I know heart breaks
But oh well, life paradoxes
Or I suppose I have no lust
I have kissed many a frog before
She says it's because I don't want to be bothered
She is on my side
Who is to know if she is really right
But I can tell you a bunch of things I have heard
They tell me it's surprising that I can be so firm
They think it's because I have way too many options
I find it amusing
How I am so great when it's other men
But suddenly when it's them they call me rigid
Talk about double standards
They say it's suppose to be natural
Well, natural my feet
I don't feel it
The love; the security
That can make me fall prey to their lousy tactics
And allow me to be defiled
Or I suppose I just have no lust
I suppose there are feelings which can't be conveyed by words
Feelings that can only be shown by actions
Call me alien
But can you worship me?
I am not enticed
Not even a little bit
I suppose I know no lust
FROLIC FLUSH
On dusky evening you appeared unexpected . I offered you posy of lily shining in crimson glaze of my mind , instantly plucked from garden. That was the first and last chance to express my love.
Our lingering urge melted in ebullient mutual crave. Romantic glow of your
emerald eyes shimmered , glimmered in placid blinks. Glory of your
amorous glance reflected to get reciprocated, resounded through my looks.
Me flooded in frolic flush of my feelings. I soared high above seven heavens. I felt tender touch of your fingers while you took blossoms from my hesitant hand. Ardent ardour of that pearly passion transmitted tremor in lust.
I yearned for capturing that auspicious moment crossing boundary of space time. I prayed to float ever and ever making pause on time flow.
I wished to continue time - bound happenstances on extension ignoring
restriction of reality which is also relative.
Love red lips with so much
Sex appeal she so erotic exotic
As her shadow crosses mine
I am blind with a ravenous APETITE
Then I knew love possessed me
The temptation of us both
Linger in my soul a bit longer
Linger in my heart a bit stronger
Longer in my life
How sincere we are toward
One another.
Genuine starlit sparkling smiles
And benign attitudes scarlet
Kisses all night dawn of blisses
All day forever swayed warm sun
Rains rainbow drizzled on me
Love drops now I know I love you.
The taste of ecstasy on your lips
Love lust contagion is the gist of this
I won't stop until you've had enough
Of it. Now, day light We have until
Dusk to get it right or loose that
Moment in time. sing all those
Love songs all night
In the depth of the powerful rays
Of the solar haze we gaze passing
Time of worthy blisses and affection
Satisfaction amazed constant action
This day this time this bond.
Supremely strong
Every six years in the month of July, a female masked nemesis returns to the human world. She comes back for revenge against evil men like the gangsters who raped and killed her and her sister when they were still alive. She only disappears after six days of wreaking havoc on sinful and pervert men.
Many mean people have failed fighting the masked nemesis. Only until after two centuries that her stubbornness halted when she forgave her trespassers. She never wanted to be bad to anyone, but she promised to return again and again if the world will be doomed and covered with lust and perversion.
The masked nemesis' sister appeared one last time, reminding her to subdue her hatred for men. Only peace can save a human soul through forgiveness and contrition.
If you are living and leaning on the good side, you need not fear the masked nemesis.
All evil works come to an end.
WILDE had a mirror
that mocked the ugliness and
deified the beauty...
Whitman had the pure
mirror of the waters with
that exalted naturalness
of the human...
Rousseau hid
in the hidden mirror of
caves of the soul, to
understand the world...
DALI everyone refuted with
mirror design
the absurd...
Sappho was mirrored in the
lust and in the wealth of the
sensory pleasure...
Wallada had the mirror
of love, so free
as existential....
me poor apprentice
of poet, I only do
and did attempted to decipher so much
beauty in so many shades... !
Killing me with your sexy
Yall killing me.
Contrived lust, mirrors with dust.
Love covered with smoke.
Flame of innocence choked.
Smothered in the womb,
Never to be born.
Deliberately sexy; too much.
Too messy.! The mother of harlots.
Vagaries leading nowhere, wandering
Into cesspools and ruts
Pure love invokes everlasting hope.
Wombs should yield...lovers with scope.
Stop hanging me with your jaded rope.
Stop killing me with your sexy,
Goddesses with blessed wombs
Fill my empty life with an embryo.
I have the seed of plenty.
Stop subjecting me to your lust...
And trust me to handle your true love.
Trust me to love your innocence.
Release love from your womb and bear my fruit.
AVOCADO
No wonder
just be vegetable,
and fruit?
PINEAPPLE
Be so rough on
so much breath
and sweetness ...
CHERRY
Grains adorn the
sensuality
the table...
STAR FRUIT
PRAY BALLS ...! ONLY
KNOWS WHO
PROOFS..
DAMASCUS
Solemn fruit of
ephemeris ...
FIG
Nothing knowing,
in silence
I'm ...
GUAVA
Enjoyable fruit,
shamelessly
surrender ...
GRAVIOLA
I don't even realize if she
invades the fairs
and play the viola ...!?
JABUTICABA
No stubborn taste
it's never over ...
JAMBO
As impressive as the
fruit is the carpet
pink what
extends on the sidewalk ...
LEMON
So sour, it is made
sweet lust ...
ORANGE
In the morning joy,
your body runs out ...
WATERMELON
Natural refreshment that
science imitate not
can ...
MANGO
Sweet taste of
woman's breasts
beloved ...
APPLE
Natural sin
that to men
involves women
become pregnant ...
STRAWBERRY
Strawberry forever ...
TAMARIND
At his feet the poet
that was August died
by defending her ...
GRAPE
Green is omen,
truth...
Purple is true
and wine...
party
She's reticent but has a gold personality
her body is covered in white flowers
they bloom everytime my eyes look
finer-looking than all models
funnier than all comedians
smarter than all geniuses
her fearless, yet glossy eyes
stare at mine
I don't desire to wake up from this dream.
Goddess...
you are a dream!
Who am I to take her innocence.
To caress her untouched virgin fibers.
This is not a negative connotation of lust,
it's an intimate overtone to show affection.
I tell my heart to be patient,
yet it irks from the rub of lingering
and it's flustered - feeling lost,
as tomorrow has no guarantee,
but she lives in a fantasy of dreams,
where her mind paints a different reality.
Art of the heart is not so simple -
in our predicament of sensibility
and it would be selfish
to convince her to stay,
but tragic to let her leave
and then she tells me how
she cant live without me,
so we remain helpless,
two souls on two different shores -
content with being lost at sea.
Simple Musing
Silent One
30 October 2019
Is it a dream?
Tortuous rhythm with random beats of hope, uncontrollable expectation of want or will
A tangled thread inside an infinite realm with intricate knots combine and create
Thoughts of worlds and ways, hells and endless possibilities
Head full of wild imagery, visions from within, self worth broken down in pity and dread, wishes, needs fulfilled or failed
A pulse of life swirling around and around unknown, unseen, untouched by all but one, from where a soul dwells
Is it a dream?
Pleasures, pain, desires and guilt wrapped in clouds in blue skies over fresh water streams
These mind games, a torturous chamber of nostalgia, trauma and experience inside a unique bubble of individuality
Harass in sleep with a perpetual fantasy, self definition through regret or grief, annoy with a chronic lust unfulfilled or a weight of obligation dictates, like a rush of smack through a vein, or a bullet to the leg you toss and turn with unwanted persecution, unaware from without of mental torment or painless joy
Is it really just a dream?