Chasin' Chickens

[RhymeFairy]

Nose in Her Prose

Her mind was tangled
up in knots
between her knees, where
he was cooking strawberries,
using bandage for bondage.
Suckling
patches of whipped cream
between
her joyous screams
of ecstasy

while he wrote a poem
with his
tongue, sending
her mind to join her feelings
when he stuck his
nose
deeply into her
prose.

knots and cooking
takes courage and
precision with skill
hoping your not in this
for the cheap thrill.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

knots and cooking
takes courage and
precision with skill
hoping your not in this
for the cheap thrill.

ah! I just tossed this into the one word thread <grin ... sorry

 

[RhymeFairy]

I don't know why
but when you say
"cat nap"
I assume
it is because
your 'pussy'
is tired?

<grinin'

yes, kind sir
my pussy is tired
from the rough'n tumble
rat race
that circles outside
inside
my kitty's lil den

daily routines
of nipping at fur
and coughing up
puss hair
is starting to get under
my bur

swishy black eyes, he
yodels his mewling cat
call, wanting to strut
his stuff

while I sit, nap
cuddle and purr
resting up
to tussle his fur ~

 

[My Erotic Trail]

grinin, thanks RF, I am mused

zen to a snail

a snail runs
from the bright
for they do not like
the Son

they suck
at everything
in order to be moved

finding comfort
in the shadows
hiding from every...
one

if you look
for the trail
you'll find the zen
of a snail

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Alacrity is a Fisherman!

 

[My Erotic Trail]

knee high pantys
rolled up stockings
bent over hair like
a water fall

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I gave her a stick of gum in order for her to excercise her jaw. She said, "I just love to smoke you!" then molded her tongue around my cigar. I was fiddling with my fiddle fingers as if plucking a labia song. She yelled out, "Don't stop," while I played in the key of 'e'cstasy. I vowed to shoot her with my secret weapon which is no longer a secret. Blowing seven double 'O' smoke rings in the aftermath.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

wrestling passion

the carpenter
recieved his carpet burns
wrestling with his passion

it takes two to Tango
and although her name is not an emotion
she held his 'bored-um'

one, two, three
wrestling with no referee
bite and pulling hair

legs locked and bodies interlaced
both are winners
in passions embrace

 

[RhymeFairy]

following the yellow brick road
has led this Dorothy astray
no ruby red slippers, or purring tigers
pouncing and play. all I have
is a dream. a dream that one day
I will be home. home to plant
daisies in meadows, strawberries
in rows, plant my feet in the softest
carpet known to man. paint my walls
yellow, have a sun room out back
coffee in the morning and a good man
to have my back. so I wander down
prance along this yellow road. looking
for a dream to happen, there is no place
like home ...

 

[My Erotic Trail]

following the yellow brick road
has led this Dorothy astray
no ruby red slippers, or purring tigers
pouncing and play. all I have
is a dream. a dream that one day
I will be home. home to plant
daisies in meadows, strawberries
in rows, plant my feet in the softest
carpet known to man. paint my walls
yellow, have a sun room out back
coffee in the morning and a good man
to have my back. so I wander down
prance along this yellow road. looking
for a dream to happen, there is no place
like home ...

wow, RF you have pulled together a very very good poem/ prose here.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

nose in her prose III

Silken PJ's enhance a BJ. I filled the emptiness of her void, a treasure hunt with my shoveling. Probing her mind from behind while slapping at the map. Pulling her near by her hair. When she growled, I knew she was an animal.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

the black quartet

clink clink clank
A crow eating chili from a can
pecking into a small portal
humming survival's fullfillment

krinkle krinkle wrinkle
as another crow wrestles
with a suliphane wrapper
shaking life with its beak

plop plop plink
tossing burnt garbage from a pile
sorting the salvageable
and swallowing tenor portions

caw caw caw
the loud solo soprano
flapping wings like a drum roll
ending the quartets daily song

 

[My Erotic Trail]

she wears a rose
over her heart
just above her ankle

Her hair pulled back
in a pony tail
as if ready to ride

 

[My Erotic Trail]

the black quartet

clink clink clank
A crow eating chili from a can
pecking into a small portal
humming survival's fullfillment

krinkle krinkle wrinkle
as another crow wrestles
with a suliphane wrapper
shaking life with its beak

plop plop plink
tossing burnt garbage from a pile
sorting the salvageable
and swallowing tenor portions

caw caw caw
the loud solo soprano
flapping wings like a drum roll
ending the quartets daily song

the black quartet

pecks into a small portal
eating chili from a can
a beak taps, taps
again and again

a suliphane wrapper
wrestles with a crow
talons pin it down
a beak pecks a hole

tossing burnt garbage
from a black pile
sifting through the charred
a rucus is aroused

a loud saprano solo
ending the quartets song
the final drum roll
flapping wings now gone

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Lunar Pearl

mere dust cast in the muscle of space
rotating over and over, aged
created its polished appeal
as it adorns the night sky

Lusturious murky swirls
from a radiant lunar lamp
in the depths of the darkness
casting moonbeams that softly caress

illuminating our lives
a gem laid upon black velvet
enlightenment in a dark world
under the sparkling stars back drop

alluring oval of brilliant white
mystical and ancient light
high in the night sky rides
a space pearl

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Belly Dancer

Her body swayed
to his lapping tongue
licking and licking
her tummy tum tum

no face is veiled
with smiling wide eyes
watching and watching
him between her thighs

tasting her naval
she pleads for an answer
does his tongue
like being a belly dancer

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I can hear you smiling

 

[RhymeFairy]

I can hear you smiling

you know me too well

a smile was sent
catching rays
as it went
showing the love
of friendship
smiles
of clowns ~

 

[My Erotic Trail]

you know me too well

a smile was sent
catching rays
as it went
showing the love
of friendship
smiles
of clowns ~

clowning around
feeding chickens
tossin feed on the ground
gotta new hatchin of chicklets
sun is coming up
the rooster crows
waking the crows
and song birds start to sing
time to crank the tractor
got some plowing to do
eating sausage rolled in a pancake
heading into my day
of poetry

 

[My Erotic Trail]

an army of pussies
spread out strategically
skirting the terrain
in the early morning
shadows they remain

flying feathered jets
not in formation
filled the early morning skies
singing their noisey battle hymn
landing near, pussies

the battle of a morning

 

[My Erotic Trail]

pony tail ride
firm grip on her mane
slapping her ass
renewing passion's energy

like hooves pounding the earth
head board kissing the wall
flesh slides against flesh
in a wet, sweaty, free for all

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Critique a Beavers Tail

The deer, didn't say two words,
standing there in a snort, literally
stomping their. Then put their asses
in the air. That got the 'high'
crows to cackling, a noise lot,
curious as a cub to a stream,
scared of their own shadow,
in conjunction they fled. When
the tree came crashing down. A page
turned in an Earth quake simile,
enjambment and a dusty metaphor risen.
Sent the squirrels looking for vacancy's, period
No one will notice the re-arranged wood,
like the smell of a skunk in print. But sun
at first light, differences are shown in colors
that the sky each day, new
synonyms, kissing all hawks offspring's
weaving the same trail. Round
as a beaver's tail. Inherent methodical
chattering teeth, editing timber
a beaver knee deep in poetry.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

A Bottle of Poetry

Cast upon an ocean of white, I write
glass words, reflective and transparent.
There is no hiding the note I tone
caught in the current, life.

Bottled up inside my journey
reading others as they drift by.
Feeling the emptiness of my void
save a page of cursive thoughts.

Ascending and descending
like a bottle shaped all wrong.
Focused on being tossed about
on an aimless ride upon life's swells.

Engulfed in the raging silence
of the sun and stars guidance.
The winds, a steering push by friends.
Weathering blue still waters and storms.

Filling droplets of life, patiently await
submerged in fear of allowing them in
for that which uplifts my vessel,
can also sink me.

Castaway, marooned in my dreams
an ocean of endless possibilities.
Until, embracing tidal sands bury me
and this time-capsule's voyage ends.

May I not kiss jagged rocks fate
but land softly upon a paradise shore.
Where a finger's touch opens me,
a bottle of poetry.

 

[sugarmountain]

From time to time I am mistaken,
that is taken for a member of the fairer sex,
a "thank you ma'am' instead of "sir"
when checking out at the register

some times I let it slide, ride through
the misperception, shake it off,
wonder what it is that makes me
a she to certain people.

My hair is neither long nor short,
but in between, I guess it could be seen
a lady's, it is very wavy, but what
about the moustache that I used to sport

it even happened then. I grew it
as a test to see if things would change
perceptually, but still the error occurred
to some I was more he, to other's still a her

I admit I do wear flowery shirts, no reason
to assume I also dress in skirts, ( is there?)
perhaps my sensitivity borders on femininity
and radiates to others a false identity

I've given up making adjustments, accept
that I am doomed to duality, (not necessarily
a bad thing), but when the cashier rang me up
today, I was forced to say- "Hey! Can't you see?"

 

[RhymeFairy]

pony tail ride
firm grip on her mane
slapping her ass
renewing passion's energy

like hooves pounding the earth
head board kissing the wall
flesh slides against flesh
in a wet, sweaty, free for all

free for all?
more meat for me
dessert .. for you