Tag Archives: erotic poetry

next

15 Wednesday Jul 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on next

Tags

, , , , , , ,

You smudge your phone with cum-sticky fingers
as this fuck poem ends. The nuns that taught

how good girls don’t cum will know. The others
will know that these nasty words made you hot;

so hot that you came in the girl’s bathroom
during class. You’ve never wanted nasty

poems like you do now. Words that consume
you … bloom inside you. Sexting poetry

itches between your legs. All for you. Swear
that you’ll never masturbate in math class

again, that you’ll be good until the next
poem I send you and the next nightmare

that you’ve longed for: fuck poems that trespass
through your resolve. Nastiest of sex text.

flux

12 Sunday Jul 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on flux

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

Blind with steam and water blocking what I
can see I follow my nose –– it always

knows –– the way to your cunt. You are the sky
over me. While I lap the shower sprays

my face. While I swallow you down the sponge
between your legs soaks me in. I’m good in

you. I wring your juices each time I plunge
inside. Each time my tongue tickles the skin

of your clit. Hydration comes when you cum.
Justdoit –– you grab my head like a wish.

Hellgasm –– Water Vapor Fire –– You flux
while your spine tilts back. I don’t drown. I’ve swum

your seas as a goddess-thang. Sacred fish
that thirsts for you; that swims in you; that sucks.

6-2-9

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on 6-2-9

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

The night is round and black, like your throat just
as you gag me down whole. You squirm, settle

your rump on my face. Slow grind as I thrust
my tongue deeper. Hell is straight boy coital,

but as I pull out concerned you gasp: “More!”
For years we put the one in lonely; now,

somehow, we’re two … even if you once swore
how all my kind made you spew. Cum is how

we cure hate. 6-2-9. We’ve got this licked
while I suck the good parts of your soul out.

I prayed for a lover and then you came.
Now we cum. They say that nothing’s perfect,

but this? So damn good. That’s what I’m about
with you: to heal from lives of scorn and shame.

enthralls

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on enthralls

Tags

, , , , , , ,

After class you lingered, interested if
I’d help with your homework on pro-sex

feminism? –– back home? –– over a spliff
and witch wine? Liberation is complex.

You peeled out of your dress. We fucked; ragdolls
smeared with cum. Sexual freedom is rare ––

but we have choices –– and lust that enthralls;
lust that saves radical change from nightmare.

Affair without nightmare. Broken fuck toys
healing. “No, here,” you say, guiding my cock

to your ass’ gaped O –– “Make it vulgar.”
Vulgar pleases. We make fuck-slushy noise.

We laugh. Others will call this porn and schlock.
This bliss is what others want to censure.

stranglings

08 Wednesday Jul 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on stranglings

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Once there was three. “I don’t want to hear that,”
you said. Now there’s two. Lucy’s “Karen’s dead,”

gave me pause. For a year we shared a flat
and I slept betwixt them in our big bed …

except when Karen stayed out at the pub
or the club. Lucy from Leeds. Karen from

Kingston. A year full of big beat and dub
and, “Tottenham sheet.” Sex was the maelstrom

that Poe warned us of. Lust that, “unnerves strings.”
Love drug’s thrall. But you didn’t want to fuck

stranglings. You weren’t bi. You just left. You said
I think about kink too much … and fuckings …

and cum. True. Sex is chaos. Love amok.
Holy fuck with three now two, with one dead.

stirred

04 Saturday Jul 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on stirred

Tags

, , , , , ,

These thick fingers push into your layers.
Your skirt lifted. Buttons undone. My tongue

swerves as my thumb finds your clit. Deluge stirs
inside you. Floodwaters. For years you clung

to the notion that you were poison. Trysts
turned sour. Friends left. Love was what others had.

“Just ghost shadow,” you thought, “a poltergeist’s
sneer.” Now you’re alive and I the nomad

baptized at your fountain. I’ve traveled through
dangers untold and hardships unnumbered

to find you. You bubble. “Have you bathed yet?”
“No.” “Good. Lemme clean you up proper.” You

grind your cunt and ass until waters stirred.
I can taste your soul through your cum and sweat.

cucurru

01 Wednesday Jul 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on cucurru

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Toes curl. Heels lift off the floor. Reward comes
as I cum, as I stiffen in your throat ––

except English is bad at this. Problems
arise with description. To bulge? To bloat?

Rigid works. Fossilized? Not really. Hard
is what most say: hardcore, hard as a rock,

fat and hard with blood. In porn, cocks a yard
long are every small man’s dream. We get cock

from Late Latin’s, “Cucurru,” a rooster’s
crow. You brag of your perfect cock sucking

lips and needing a perfect cock to suck.
I don’t brag. I wait until your parents

go out. Your reward comes with words meaning:
“To gag.” “To splutter.” “To cum in havoc.”

munchies

29 Monday Jun 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on munchies

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Your dad finds you in the bathroom, scrubbing
make-up from your cheeks. He doesn’t approve

of, “loose morals,” he says, “and women looking
cheap, like strumpets.” Each day you remove

all signs of what we’ve done while he’s at work.
“Pull out then ram deep,” you cried two hours

ago. He talks virtue. We go berserk,
fueled by chronic and munchies. He blathers

about sin. We invent new smuttiness
each time our tongues touch. He scowls. We giggle

on the phone. “Miss you!” “Miss you more!” He’ll glare.
We’ll meet after school; all wild and reckless

with our joy. “On my face, leave your puddle
there.” It’s still the only make-up you’ll wear.

titillation

27 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on titillation

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Do you cry out, “I’m cumming!” when you cum?
When you lose your mind in that odd moment,

when gods can see you, does your orgasm
compel you to howl like it’s prayer? Ancient

forces prowl between us, waiting for us
to crest and climax while our cups runneth

over. I love titillation’s promise
that you, too, hunger for a little death,

petite mort; that under your striped school skirt
passion soaks your thighs; that your swollen slit

glistens and your clit, queerest of queer seeds,
waits for tongues. I’d howl, too, if I could squirt.

Call this prayer; when grace caresses your clit,
since grace knows all of your lascivious needs.

frenzies

25 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on frenzies

Tags

, , , , , , ,

High seas, indeed. The upsurge of bed sheet.
Curling ripple in the quilt. You hand back

the bong to giggle, “I can’t feel my feet.”
If there’s a theme to our sex life’s soundtrack

it’s that feeding frenzies are addictive.
I’m the shark that broke your surface, mouthful

of your menstrual blood. “Harder, I can’t live
without your teeth in me,” you slur. I pull

you down, gulp you down, until you drown, pleased.
It took years of frightful sex to find each

other. I don’t miss that. I was famished
searching for you. Now I’m sated –– your greased

inner muscles squeeze my tongue. Your stoned speech
slurs. You’re all Seven Seas that I’ve ravished.