Sensual. Poems | Examples

Premium Member Perhaps

I saw....
Two black crystal balls
Rimmed with white
Reflecting an indefinable emotion
Glowing with some intense passion

Riveting,
Entrancing!

Two eyes of oceanic depths
Relaying the most intimate message
What did they commune?
PERHAPS- they said silently- "I love you" (?)

So piercing were those eyes
That I couldn't stand their electric glare
From those eyes, rose the Promethean fire
Glistening like molten gold,
At once sending out,
The light of a hundred galaxies.

In the fire bursting through those eyes,
My body was turned into a conflagration
And my soul rippled like fermented wine.

Why didn’t I respond instantly
PERHAPS, I was so stunned,
That my body couldn’t follow the sense’s urging

An ocean was stirring within
Whose whirls could never again be tamed
In those flooding pools,
Let me cast my fishing net.

What catch, can I expect?
PERHAPS, the boon and bliss of a lifetime!

Premium Member Destiny would have her Way

He loved her blatant whiteness, there was sugar in her veins
His powerful nostrils smelled her weaknesses, and he smiled
She would soon be his, they both understood this
meekly resigned, not thrilled, her bits of fear increased his desire

He approached her from the shadows, understanding his power
She dared not move; felt his presence, but stayed still
There was the macabre smell of blood and a quickening
They both understood destiny would have her way and soon.

Premium Member Sleeping With Poets

Ah my friends please lend an ear,
I have a secret I must share. 
When the sun goes down at night 
and the moon is in full sight, 

I dim the lights, turn off the phone, 
slip into bed, but not alone. 
For when I crawl between the sheets 
it is with Byron, Shelley, and Keats. 

Shelley makes me a wanton soul, 
ever playing the lover's role. 
When I'm wrapped in Byron's prose 
the fervor penned curls my toes. 

I'm up 'til the stars are at sleep. 
Keats words of beauty make me weep. 
I have this need I can't deny 
that makes me keep a poet nigh. 

When I close the book at last 
there are no shadows to be cast. 
For I have wiled away the hours 
enthralled with the poet's powers.

well yeah i beheld hern

.

                                        at hern 
                                    prescription
                                     hern ingest
                                         nibble
                                          raven

                                           gulp

                                       i think'd i
                               said thuh mouth's
                                            full

Love's Tingling Arrow

Your glance thrills deep to my marrow,
As if struck by love’s tingling arrow

Premium Member crime of passion

"murder me"

she whispered ...
(lips pressed to my nape, nipping skin)
for her betrayal of husband and
family meant as much ..,
we both knew the sacrifices,
and we accepted the cost that instant,
then, and for the scandalous time to come …

she was lost in me - straddling, pressing
and I, lost in her
so rooted that I was becoming her in flesh …
in all senses …
nothing mattered anymore but
passion and its pyre
burning all in its torrid wake -
all that had mattered ...
'til then …

it was a horrid thing for her to say -
to place in such dire phrasing
yet it was ALL that I wanted -
all that I needed and cared to hear …
"murder me"
she whispered again, pressing down ...
"for I am nothing now ...

but yours."





Copyright © 2019 Gregory Richard Barden

( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )

unTiTled 01101

the blinders rest with ease—
seams seemingly gaunting;
haunting whispers crunch like teeth,
seekers left to guess
pestering what comes next
be a kiss that is gentle
or bent with tiles filing
finally laying—rather lying;
dying to look you
hook right between the eye
lend the heaven, tongues that speak.
though weepy,
deep and soundly they hide 
behind masks clasping dearly
refraining to reclaim their faces
places they’ve felt love.
people they’ve once known—
sewn behind is their truth
and truthfully their pain is plain
written in bold
holding bruises
whether you choose to see it
or be it amiss.

wishing well feels like rope
we can feel it doping us
hoping that our next breath
is the last one to give less.

but living session after session
their weapons once sharp dulling
full hands weaken with tire
and wiry sighs leave the senses
why?

because we weren’t just prizes
disguised to heel blindly
or crawl without first running—

we are not sick and lowly farm animal
simple, dirty, managed to be manageable.

Premium Member Dear Secret Love

Dear Secret Love, 

Love is a many-colored arch 
displayed by rays of sun 
and best seen in the wake of clouds 
just after storms are done. 

Love is a rosebud reaching up 
to drink its fill of dew 
that it might blossom in the warmth 
of sun that shines anew. 

Love is a midnight symphony. 
Its music only heard 
in hearts awakened by the song, 
as joy inspires the bird. 

Love is a sign of hope that shines 
for anyone who'll see, 
who'll lift his eyes from earth to sky 
and dream of what might be. 

So if you'll lift your downcast face 
and look for signs above, 
you'll see a rainbow, kiss the dew 
and hear the song of love. 

Then, hopefully you'll understand, 
I am your rainbow light, 
I am the rose that thirsts for you, 
I am your love songs in the night.

chocolate tonight

chocolate tonight
vanilla ice cream delight
clock late wait sleep tight

Premium Member something new

oh, how perfectly you drape
        swaths of moonlite on your shape
            now you've chosen its soft blue
    for this night of something ... new

you've decided we're too single
        that we need fresh ways to mingle
            so, if you'll grant me the dative
    methinks we should get creative

I'm hoping these night sweats'll
        find our limbs wound to a pretzel
            you and I, one limber body
    twisted close, and rather knotty

could it be, we're going too far
        with this night of karma sutra?
            still, the shapes have just begun
    and we're having so much fun

though I think our best positions
        come between, in the transitions
            for like ALL in life we savor ...
    it's the tasting ... not the flavor.




Copyright © 2018 Gregory Richard Barden

Premium Member Midnight Sun

Last night we danced in sweet romance,
we burned like the midnight sun.
Your wanton kiss was utter bliss,
our hearts fused, then beat as one.

By candle-light I held you tight,
lust played our favorite song.
Our bodies moved, sizzled and grooved,
seduction's magic so strong.

Our two minds raced as my lips traced
the smooth contours of your skin.
Fingers kneaded as eyes pleaded
for hunger to glide on in.

Burning, shining, redefining
the power that pleasure holds.
Deep and slow, two bodies aglow,
our rhythm was liquid gold.

Desire ached as our flesh baked
and ecstatic rivers flowed.
Our bodies screamed and our eyes gleamed,
for delirium... We rode!

The love you gave, the love I crave
reached inside and made me whole.
Each sated breath, each little death
hurt so much it healed my soul.

Premium Member The Perfume Bottle

Glass vial brimming
with distilled desire waiting
to be vaporized
on warm skin to fire the want
with scent of blooming flowers

Hollow taint remains
a genie swirls from the rub
whiff evaporates
hope lingers in the remnants
of what the genie scent sang

Premium Member Blue Moon

I can hear the wolves howling. 
A blue moon sky tonight, 
movement, motion, magical, 
we're synchronized just right. 

Her silhouette's smoldering 
behind translucent screens. 
Perfect, pleasing, pandering, 
my fantasy, her scene. 

Incense burning, candles aglow, 
a breeze blows her to me, 
luscious, lacy, lingering, 
the only thing I see. 

She touches without touching, 
spectator on a chair; 
wanting, warning, whispering, 
she lashes me with hair. 

Sorceress now claims her prey. 
our bodies do entwine, 
teasing, touching, tenacious, 
then finally she is mine. 

Two bodies brace for battle, 
a squall stirs up the sea, 
holding, heaving, heavenly, 
right where I want to be. 

Our hungry mouths are feasting, 
enlightenment now sought, 
rampant, racing, ravenous, 
until that moment's caught.

Premium Member Tiramisu Mousse

Such an intensely rich indulgence.
A cream of so much succulence.

Lust

The beauty of passion
In a poisonous fashion
Attention feels rationed
It’s a fatal attraction 

Ravenous biting
A scandalous whisper
Addicted to fighting 
With Lady Love’s sister

A burning temptation
An aching sensation
You lose all orientation
When she’s on rotation 

She makes you melt
Can’t take the heat
Best lips you’ve felt
They taste so sweet

Perception is cloudy 
Her lips turn pouty
Her touch is inviting
She keeps things exciting

She sneaks up from behind
Takes control of your mind
She’ll rob your heart blind
And keep you confined

She’s the primal urge
The desire to merge 
To be skin to skin
It’s the sweetest sin

She’s love without trust
Pure chaos that’s unjust
Push her away if you must
Or keep dancing with Lady Lust

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