Archival Review

[LeBroz]

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A little fun solution to that morning woody as a wicked duo turns solo.

Legend In My Own Mind

by neonurotic©





My little succubus brazenly-naked,
grabbed her ankles,
wiggled, and jiggled,
spanked her ass until her round
cheeks bloomed blazin', crimson prints.

The dirty demon taunted,
jiggled, and wiggled,
peeked between her knees,
gave me an upside-down lewd smile,
tempted the horny devil inside of me.

Ah, yes, she excites to invite me.
I'm wanting my wicked way with her
wherever, whenever I feel the need.
I'm perverted; challenge accepted.
(Ha! As if there ever was a doubt.)

I licked my lips in fiendish greed,
then took what I wanted as, she
enticed that inner incubus into doing
whatever naughty thing that I pleased.
(Or so she had me believe.)

With a one-handed grip on her hip,
I slipped and slid in her musky heat.
I can't help, but think as she howls my name,
screams, "Oh, my god you sexy beast!"
That I'm wildest fuck she's ever had.

Much later, with her yowls still ringing my ears,
I'm spent, I'm done or simply said, I'm sated
Mr Sunshine breaks the day, I wake up with
my limp dick in one hand and cum in the other.
"Damn, I'm only a legend in my own mind."​

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[LeBroz]

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A bit more raw sensuality that merely sensuous, this still is one of the better quality erotic poems — it avoids the crudity so prevalent to the genre.


Lingua Intima

by KR©


Mouths speak the language of intimacy
without uttering a word
Your lips on mine so tender and sweet
with one brush I am wet,
flowing like a river of metta
towards its numinous destination
Your skin so salty from exertion
with one taste I am lost
Moaning, I bring my mouth to yours
kissing deeply, asking,
Can you taste yourself on my tongue?
Skin-hunger and flavor collide
setting into motion lips tongue and teeth
.......breath-play
Touching tongue to skin
I exhale upon it, a warm breath
Your moan spurs me on to blow
streams of air across the mouth-water
tongue-stamped to your flesh
Lips forming the symbols of intimacy,
speaking without words

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[LeBroz]

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Here's one where the title works so well and lets the poem sneak up on you with its rough hewn feel; excellent contrast.


love poem

by 4degrees©


poetic injustices
prompted in prozac
and transdermal transfers
of nicotine
swirl with fluidity
in my liquified mind.
whipped like potatos
by a relentless cum fetish,
i look through
the lense again and
see myself on the other side.
you make me drool
buckets of goo
with that
mental airbrushed rendering
of the two of us,
twisted together
in a fuckknot
like wet shoelaces.
we can only be
pulled apart by teeth
but we are too dirty,
no one would dare.

4°

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[LeBroz]

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A real quickie with which to start off this beautiful Sunday morning. Let it burn an image in your mind.


morphic maiden

by bluerains©


lightning Transmogrifies
moon etchings sketched
perfectly round her
shapely silhouette

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[LeBroz]

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Another reason, besides the sugar rush, for the appeal of Pop-Tarts?


Pop-Tart

by UBU©


Pop-Tart

A familiarity of course
Eating broken pop-tarts
At the kitchen table
Sitting casual close
Watching the puppet show
Let her go first let her talk
Animated voluble frank stung
The high counter between us
Her grey Henley the slight
Nipple perk through material
My eyes flicker there then meet hers
The sudden flux of sex textualizing
Both of us aware but not admitting
A self conscious pull at her shirt
So unexpectedly revealed and veiled
Dazed reserved yet incandescent
A picture with only the faintest resolution
Bigger things reflected in my unflappable
Volition to see and the stone realization that
It’s not an accidental concoction of proximity
But the real soft white silky edges
Near and outlined with suggestion
The tone carried away voyeuristic
Giving these things a guilty edge
So buzzed with the humming in her own head
I always wonder how much she’s aware as
She leans with her most revealing flash yet
Her little opus on the subject so dear
My dick stirring at the significance of it
Far reaching possibilities strange idealism
Just that convulsive movement of her head
The last entry our pressing problem
On her hip hard against the actual

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[LeBroz]

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A rather dry wit at work here with its takeoff on a Mastercard ad.


Priceless

by seannelson©


my old Sony boombox: $100: musical and poetical communion with Kurt Cobain, John Lennon, Trent Reznor and others

one US Airlines Ticket to Hawaii: $750, exposure to a mute version of the "Smallville" movie: vistas of black volcanic rock, jacuzzi visions of my island kingdom, friendship with a 6-foot sea tortoise

dinner for two at the Black Sheep, 10 drinks: $82.75, a mild hangover: a night with Aphrodite, induction into watersports, fond memories

a bag of weed, a plain, red glass bong:$115, my work ethic for a couple days, sound sleep: tutorship by Orpheus, an opportunity to write "The Borderlands"

a gold watch by Seiko: $150, my frugality: a daily reminder of my value, dreams of myself as a movie star

a one year subscription to Discover: $45, humanist enlightenment: membership in the brave new scientific world, an opportunity to learn of humanity's brotherhood with life from the depths of the sea to the depths of the earth

a realist: the solaces of cynicism, the ecstacies of optimism: a man who knows both the price and the value of things

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[LeBroz]

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Okay, all you wet dreamers out there, this one's for you.


REMmm

by neonurotic©


The rhythm of day
parallels the night
Awake or asleep
my dirty thoughts linger

Perversion injects
this lucid dreamer

I can do you
your sister
(and your mama too)
anywhere, any way
upside down
inside out
sixty-nine you
seven nights running

Or get off with
Basic Instinct
have a sex-pot
blonde bombshell
in hot nasty dreams
where I'm Michael and
Sharon Stone's pussy
(tastes alot like my pillow)

Thanks to REM
I can have Technicolor
Dolby Sound
silver screen wet dreams

Yes, this lucid dreamer
washes sheets all week

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[LeBroz]

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A light little piece, easy to read. Creates a quick image. While it got the little greenie, I can see where some snipping and other editing would help, such as chopping "were" so those two lines read better — "palm trees swaying" and "seagulls gliding". So give it another look and see what you think.


room 69

by rosewall©


a purple and orange sky
ushered in the night
the setting sun
was alomost gone
palm trees were swaying
with a gentle breeze

seagulls were gliding
low over the motel
a few patio lamps
lit the small pool
stars gave off a soft glow
high above in a black sky

the door to room 69
opened slowly with a squeek
still covered in a sensous sweat
a couple comes out giggling
heading for the pool
they stopped to kiss at the gate

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[LeBroz]

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If you have a thing about creepy crawly critters, you may want to pass on this lest it convert you to celibacy.


she gathers me with serpentine eyes

by steve porter©


"she gathers me with serpentine eyes"

she gathers me with serpentine eyes
then turns into an adder
and slithers down my spine

she wraps herself around my thigh
and wiggles her little tail
in a most suggestive way

her flicking tongue licking
at my cheeky cleavage
enflames my sexual desire

i will eat you she hisses
filling the anticipating air
with her amorous pledge

and so i prostrate myself
upon a persian carpet
as she crawls across my chest

turning slowly like a sloth
and creeping down my belly
to face the meaty meal

which she proceeds to calmly
swallow whole with lidless eyes
while i writhe like a fat fresh rodent.

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[ghost_girl]

Leon, the above poem, ohh, what a wonderful poem. It was the first E poem I read here. steve is such a gifted writer; the imagery in that poem is wonderful. And the title just blows me away. Great choice!!



julie

 

[LeBroz]

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Best watch out for them kisses; it starts with a little kiss and the next thing you know you're both laying there on the bed, composing yourselves.


Stolen Kisses

by SoulStevieB©


Lips play with monotony.
Teased conversations,
So much spoken,
So little remembered.
One moment,
One Kiss.
Warm,
Soft,
Gentle probing,
Moist exchanges.
Two hearts beating.
Charged, faster than flesh can withhold.
Allaying fear, reassuring wanting.
Pushing love.
Wrapped in affection. Fabric coarses against,
yearning. Flesh given in tumultuous,
abandonment. Life sliding on yielded,
promises.
Until tomorrow.
Sweet remembrances of stolen kisses.

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[LeBroz]

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A look at that title and you're bound to wonder how this can be erotic, but just read on.


Summary Execution

by SummerMorning©


Sex

that's what we're here for

sex in the context of black times new roman font on white flickering pc screen

perfunctory and mutual quick and easy
so black on white it makes
not queasy
too cliche too frapee too canapee

she wears a skirt tonight jeans by day
tear it off
faster faster
offer off
panties thongs bikinis strings and gs
acceleration of events
terminal velocity
g force you know
drags you down
or does she
pulling tearing
gnawing
clawing
throw her on the bed
follow through
are those pants off yet
doesn't matter
it'll get wetter
and the g force
g force
times new roman force
roman force
pilum
gladius
phallic objects deleted text
delete
delete
delete
obliterate
in the scream
in the wave
the roar
white noise
white noise of the mind

finish.

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[LeBroz]

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This one seems a bit busy in the first half, then seems to be in a more reflective mood toward the end.


Tangled Fluorescence

by alwaysawake©


Passionate moves stir like waves on a sandy shoreline,
Limbs tangle in passionate embraces.
Slowly tightening their embrace and movements becoming more urgent.
The musky smell and slick bodies filling the room to a bursting climax.
Groaning and plunging together with dizzying animal-like sounds and movements,
trying desperately to explode into each other, transcending deeper and higher.
Feeling every shuddering inch of the partner’s quaking skin,
Tasting the sweet and salty flavors.
The spasms quicken in tingling thrusts,
Numbing the wet, intertwined flesh.
Their motion stirring like a dying breeze off a warm beach line,
Limbs snaked together in a golden glowing welcome.
Silently my eyes imbibe your fluorescence and afterglow;
Your soft curves,
The way you move,
Your smile.
I lay next to you unable to say a word,
Unable to move a single muscle.
Slowly my eyes move up and down the curve of your back.
With feathery touches, running my fingers over your smooth skin.
Only to feel the heat of your sleeping body,
Only to feel the secrets that lie under your skin.
Only to smell your sweet scent and bask in your opulent glow one last time before dawn.

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[LeBroz]

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The title makes it obvious — or does it? The only way to know is to read it all the way through. But if you're not into this genre, it'd be hard to get enthralled.

The Dungeon

by _kara_©



The Dungeon

A large oak door opens wide,
no light to see bar candlelight,
the dank and musty odour,
meanders to the senses,
a shiver down the spine
the hot spot wet and throbbing,
a push from behind, tumbling forward
the sprawling body on the floor.
Eyes wide and frightened,
taking in the sights and smells,
distinctive odours permeate the nose,
mixed with dampness the subtle smell
of human bodies having wriggled and writhed
upon the hanging chains.
The aroma of male and female,
so pungent in the air,
what stories could this dungeon tell?
If you listen carefully,
the shrieks and screams can be heard,
the gentle moaning of pleasure,
the cry of sheer desire!


The oak door opens slowly,
a shaft of light falling across the body on the floor,
footsteps going forward, a hand reaching out.
The heart and mind racing, the strong male smell,
a blind fold placed across the eyes,
a hand twisting in the hair,
pulled to the knees by the hand,
a whispered “ouch” from the lips,
the head pulled back as lips force down,
the tongue probes the mouth,
sinking deep into the throat,
the male smell so strong almost evil,
a wicked sneer can be heard,
the body trembling with anticipation,
a rattle of the chains as they pull down to the waiting body,
clipping, snapping sound as cuffs and chains interlink,
the weight of the body getting heavy,
as the chains ride up into the ceiling
carrying the body with it.
just the toes are touching the ground,
so hard to stand proud!

“Please, please” the voice rings out,
wicked laughter fills the room,
shivers down the spine as fingers
stroke the buttocks
a tongue upon the breast,
suckling the nipple as a hungry child,
fingers invading the wet and warm crevice,
cruel intrusion causing pain,
yet desire is a wanton game.
The sound of a cracking whip in the air,
makes the mind scream with despair,
the feel of the sting on the skin,
a sharp intake of breath to hold the shriek,
the pain so bad melting the mind,
more pain lands across the body,
the brain going into space,
turning pain to pleasure,
the heat and wetness between the legs,
lure the male to possess the body,
that moans with his intrusion!


With the body having been taken,
how long will it be?
before the mind submits,
the soul takes longer,
but rest assured the devil will have his way
for now we will rest,
the body is lowered and caught
as it crumples to the ground,
a tear is lifted off the face,
as the male makes his embrace.
The blindfold removed,
making the eyes flutter,
the searching look into the soul,
the despair that looks back,
a whispered “thank you” rolls around the room,
the deepest sigh escapes the body,
tender hands caress the face,
a smile breaking the tension.
“Thank you little one”
“Without you I am nothing”
his arms enfolding around the body!​

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[LeBroz]

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The title pulls no punches and gives the rest of the words one interpretation. Imagine what you'd think if the title was "Mountaineering".


The Fuck

by cward2©


I climb to the
Top of Mt Everest.
Panting, Unable
To breathe.
As I catch my breath,
I fall
Faster and faster,
Climaxing in the
Summit’s maw.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a show to remember, just ask the neighbors!


the night to remember

by smithpeter©


I see myself
I hear myself
I touch myself
in sex

we are so active
we are smiling
it is very unlike
shoveling snow

in the way now
you frown because
your nipples are one
with weighted ornament

we laugh because the vise-grip
was not so romantic as
stainless clamp installed
by buff contractors
versed and gentle
with offers as fees satisfy

but, they were laughable
and so left twitching hips bitching
but cute, we give credit where due
and took their donation for aids and
Jerry's Dying Kids.

Please the lights! No more TV!
let's hug and nuzzle,
nestle like spoons
rub the other
turn down the security
let the neighbors in
pull the shades
yank the cords

and would someone please tell Marvin
that he is not allowed to fuck my lady
until she says ok and he has his papers in order
and signed by newly elected judges in 5 states
picked at random.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a real fantasy piece, the fantasy being that it was the greatest pleasure.


The Wild Side

by wildsweetone©


The Wild Side

Fuck the whore who sits
on the side of the bed, fag dangling
from blood red lips.

Pull her hair hard,
tell her she’s a slut wanting
payment for sex.

Masturbate until her red made-up face
is covered with your creamy semen,
and she’s squirming
and screaming for her buck.

But most of all,
enjoy her, cos you’ll never
be bored quite like this again.

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[LeBroz]

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Safe sex?


Yesterday I Saw an Orchid

by woz8822©


Yesterday, I saw an orchid
walk out of Walmart. Every day
she is a mountain of friction
plowing into an ocean of need. The sun
takes two days to drive across her
even in summer.

Her body reflects up, so her lover
told her to not make waves.
She defied him and pomped around the store.

Once I told a woman to just get in the car
and we'll drive back to your place.
The television hostess was saying,
"You don't want this under your clothes."
To avoid being intimate, she wore a device between us.

Later,

I told a friend I just pushed it in, but I was lying.
I wore a mask. I was not known to anyone,
not even to myself.

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[LeBroz]

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A pretty little erotic fantasy with which to wrap up the little greenies.


Yours

by sweet GA peaches©


I cradled every thought
of his sins,
and lips,
on the tip
of my tongue.
We were young
and wild,
You were free,
and I
was make-believe.

For a moment, yours.

We took the moon for a ride,
as you eased inside,
for a stars wink,
to wear my flesh of fantasy.
You kissed me
deep,
and long,
and for moments strong,
you had me.

Down to the salty sweet pit
of my youth,
and the flaming truths
unveiling need and lust and desire,
we were fire, as
we clawed at the walls that
that lay spent with lust,
as the sun swallowed the moon,
and the night turned to dust.

It was hours long,
and I was gone.

We were young,
and wild,
you were free..
you thought you had me,

And I was make - believe,
For a moment, yours.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a touch of optimism to lighten your day.


A Day For Tomorrow
by hippiedude©


This is a day for tomorrow,
a day for the covered porch,
to breath sweet the cedar air,
benumbed by the soft, white droning
of the delirious and gentle rain;
to heal among the covered earth,
make peace and come to terms,
allow time to purge the wounded edge,
and lift the weight of wasted breath.
This is a day for tomorrow.

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[LeBroz]

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The feel of the season's so strong here {in his words} I'm already feeling depressed; hope we don't get two feet of snow in mid-October this year!


A Winter Equality
by foehn©


The bare branches of a scraggly oak,
twigs seeming to mutter among themselves,
reach into the cold air as though seeking some arborescent
epiphany, some hint of promise, some reason to draw
more life from deep and warmer soil.

Nodes of readiness adorn filaments of hope,
thin wisps of tree, almost indistinguishable
from the amorphous gray of the sky, which
mills about restlessly in altostratus clumps.

Glass, I have read, is a slow liquid:
over decades, the bottoms of windows grow thicker.
I go to the window and touch the single pane,
which accepts my finger with just
a tiny sting: frigid surprise, and a quick,
small halo of fog.

We all want something
we can’t have right now: sky, tree,
air, window and I. And now a cardinal
has suddenly landed, slightly bobbing
on a skinny branch. She stares at me vacantly
from her resplendent dullness.

I’m caught behind glass, craving
warmer reasons for living: faith, growth.
I grow weary, waiting,
equal with winter’s everything.


~ 02/01/05

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[LeBroz]

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Here's another piece from hippiedude as a result of my looking back over the work of him and foehn. I was surprised at the number of pieces I'd passed over, such as the following that highlights the loss of a personal life that's been given over to work.


Any Other Day Would Find You
by hippiedude©


If only I could look down and see
eternally deep and rich mahogany
rather than piles of papers
placed on the surface of my desk
and today was any other day

important matters would not lie there
buried
unattended
open and unresolved

I would not feel this cold
elegant leather beneath me
nor would the driver of this
inhumanly clean limousine
have stood with stoic detachment
as one distant bird sang
an unusually plaintive refrain

any other day would find you
commenting on the Comfort of the Word
relishing the beauty of the garden
green and serene

any other day would find you
but not here
and not alone

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[LeBroz]

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A snack for cat has got away. Now cat's looking at a disquieting sight.


Cat Notices the Sky's Throat
by foehn©


A hummingbird flies
from garden phlox
into a throat
so slick, so deep,
so blue, so stark
at the center... The swallow
the great sky makes
seems to surprise
the black cat’s eyes,
shadow-dark,
like creosote.

Whose throat is that?
A thing that size,
that it could eat
— this gets the cat —
meals so petite,
fill up, digest,
and take its rest
or go to sleep
where eyes can’t follow...

The cat’s jaw shakes.

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[LeBroz]

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Is it schizophrenia? Multiple personalities? You've really got to run through this at least twice to catch 'em both.


Bicameral Man
by hippiedude©


“Why did that change?” I asked, gazing wistfully at the sky.
He gave no answer although I think he knew why.
“Reality” I said shaking my head.
“Sooner or later something has to die.”

“Once it was like looking at a big picture book,
monstrous animals,
giant human faces,
enigmatic sagas, like
huge rubber hippos running
three legged races.

Why did that change?”

“Do you know what I see on the horizon before me?”
He pointed accusingly to the east.
I gave no answer but saw one horrific beast.
“Cumulonimbus,” he said through his teeth.
“I—just—see—clouds.”

“Is it not enough to remember that day?”
He asked while swinging at my head.
I gave no answer pretending to be dead.
“Bohemian” he said with dismissive disdain.
“You and your stupid dreams.”

I heard him say as he walked away,
“Once it was like looking at a big picture book,
monstrous animals,
giant human faces,
enigmatic sagas, like
huge rubber hippos running
three legged races.

The way I see it,
that had to change.”

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[LeBroz]

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A poem inspired by a former {though recent} Poet Laureate of the United States, living right here in New York.


Billy Collins' Obituaries
by hippiedude©


Nine Horses, of course is
a book of Billy Collins poems.
Some of which I think about
throughout the entire day.

Like when I read his Obituaries,
and pictured the half moon orange,
an all but empty teacup;
the spoon laid to rest on the white linen tablecloth
beside a carefully folded section of the morning news.

I do not think he sat there for long;
looking through the kitchen window;
burnished by the morning sun;
before he rose, although not abruptly,
went to the telephone and called someone.

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