Dead Poet's Society.

[My Erotic Trail]

Cats are fun
to play with that pussy pun
I even know a girl
who says her's bites

Cats do not like
to get wet, yet
pussies revel in it


Petting the kitty
sucking hard on her titties
meows for 'cat nip'
arched back to a lick'idy split

camel toe jokes
Little man in the boat
stuffing a hot box
puss'n boots eating cock

Beavers like to be stroked
even poked
I think we all enjoy
hearing a pussy pur

 

[Decayed Angel]

even angels

Pleasure dies
then sadness walks in
And even angels, too, decay

..................Oe no Asatsuna

 

[My Erotic Trail]

From the Wit of Mark Twain

Oh, that worthless, worthless book, that timid book, that shifty book, that uncertain book, that time-serving book, that exasperating book, that unspeakable book, the Unlimited Dictionary! that book with but one object in life: to get in more and shadings of the words than its competitors. With the result that nearly every time it gets done shading a good old useful word it means everything general and nothing in particular.
- "Three Thousand Years Among the Microbes"

I have studied it often, but I never could discover the plot.
- quoted in Mark Twain Anecdotes, Cyril Clemens

We sailed for America, and there made certain preparations...Two members of my family elected to go with me. Also a carbuncle. The dictionary says a carbuncle is a kind of jewel. Humor is out of place in a dictionary.
- Following the Equator

 

[wildsweetone]

Pain has an element of blank;

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.

Emily Dickinson

 

[EriAliSaa]

Oooo the delightful Lady Em! I will match you with Alfred Lord Tennyson

IN MEMORIAM 27: I ENVY NOT IN ANY MOODS

I envy not in any moods
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods:

I envy not the beast that takes
His license in the field of time,
Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The heart that never plighted troth
But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Pain has an element of blank;

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.

Emily Dickinson

ahh! this left me spell bound <bigrin
~~~good one sweet~~