Poetry Discussion Queue

[annaswirls]

I don't know if I am eligible or not, but I would love feedback on this one:

hidden in my locker all year

they let us out of the auditorium
a few minutes early
so we could avoid seeing the boys
who got their "talk" in the gym

but still they caught us
holding our Stayfree sample bag
and sketched diagrams:
vagina filled with penis
uterus filled with fetus

Greg and Todd and Jimmy too
teased us at our lockers
come on what you got in there
training bra? tampons?

locker shut I could barely even
look at my homeroom teacher,
who for the first time
appeared to me naked,
erect penis pointing like a road sign saying
it's too late

betrayed, bewildered,
I looked for the female teachers
but they were too busy bleeding
to tell us that there had been a horrible mistake.

 

[MyNecroticSnail]

Gematria tentative title, too intellectual, I need something more reasonable

Thirty-four flames on the moon pie
dimly do they shine.
Champagne, noo! Paper cups - Nehi
I count eight, maybe nine.

A coven in the moon pie night,
A celebration of poetry dying,
A scene of some demotic rite,
of writing without even trying.

The nabors heard 400 wails
of pallid verse and livid rime
and pyled off the trail, the entrails
of Miss Muse, a crime

(Count to here, do you smell the burning
of numbers undergoing fucking?
Really now, no fucking ducking!
The numbers real, you should be learning.)

scene so horrific, marked by star,
the five points of nether heaven.
The trod of twenty feet, bizarre,
sixty-eight empty shoes, eleven

barefoot with a hundred lame excuses
of who, what, where; alibis
of how they could not murder muses.

After all the truth is lies

And four sadly equals seven.

(Count to here, do you smell the burning
of numbers undergoing fucking?
Really now, no fucking ducking!
The numbers reel, you should be learning.)

Most important, did I get the rhymes right?? and the numbers?
Does it have too many adverbs? adjectives? Is it too diluted?

A whole day's worth of cleverness (6/6/06) gone to waste....

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Song of Everending

Simple songs paint bright the lips of children
and the colors are pure of subtlety,
undulled by angst. It takes time
to brew that kind of revisionism.
Only scar tissue can twist that sound
twirl it in the throat
so that it singes the air.

When I sing of you, there is no green, no blue
no bright red ripe and staining. This song doesn't
dye, don't worry; it washes off
unless you steep in it. Then you may find
when you strip naked that there is a mark
under the masking, the way a mark is left
under the ring on your finger. With time,
however all marks fade
as do we
into the song too deep for ears
into the song of the universe
hymned by angels
harmonized by whales.


If I can please get some feedback on this that would be great, whenever there is time (not in any hurry). Thanks to Rybka for his feedback elsewhere. Cheers.

 

[sohosoul]

Needing a modicum of insight

Ok, so it has been awhile since I have shared any of my work with the public, so here goes. This piece is one of my older ones and is part of a small manuscript of odes to love and passion. Please forgive the somewhat triviality of it, as I have far more literary fair to offer in seriousness. I simply would like to test the waters.

The rhythm gathers you into my arms, slow and gentle
bringing you to me, to life
like the tide to the moon, a motion of stars in the dark
adrift within the black velvet night
coursing through us, my body in time - in tune with you
in touch with your skin

Do I treat this moment as it were my last chance at redemption
or do I give in to the vague unknown of love and passion
Too little of us is seen to surface and the truth
our identities left behind as we delve the deeps of the mind
Shall we risk the shifting sands of movement, moments, memories
like missives let loose from sodden fingers,
To finally explore you, your body, your mind and your pleasure

If you were an ocean, deep and mysterious
would you let me wade into you, till I drowned
In the warm embrace of you... to lose myself
I might walk the shores of your mind
to feel the singular grains of your heart and mind
I may find the solace I need in the strongest part of you
and sink into the depths of you, I, we are one in each other.

 

[WickedEve]

sohosoul, I'll be happy to start a thread for your poem here on the discussion circle forum. Do you have a title for the poem?

 

[WickedEve]

Please forgive the somewhat triviality of it, as I have far more literary fair to offer in seriousness. I simply would like to test the waters.

sohosoul, why not post your more literary fair instead. You'll receive some very good feedback on this particular forum.

 

[sohosoul]

Sorry, I do indeed have a title...

It is called "Connection". It is the first moment when a couple comes together. I will bring others to the forum as soon as I have time to retype in the electron streams, as opposed to the pen and paper in which they are normally ensconced.

Thank you Eve. I would appreciate a separate thread. I prefer to start with this piece as I approach sharing my writing as I would a new lover, slowly, shyly and more than a little apprehensive.

 

[Chryseis47]

Homeland

Revisiting my child home as an adult provoked powerful images, disturbing images. Feedback, please!?!


HOMELAND


How strange to happen across oneself, on a bus chockfull of business associates, in the night so far from my own created safety

Traveling through the desert to our destination, I was confronted by spectres from a distant past, at once tangible and ethereal as the dust devils, small tornadoes that rise from the desert floor

Long-forgotten voices whispered and wailed, beseeching the dignity of memory, of recognition

There were echoes of my voice, and the voices of my brother and sisters and of my mother, and the monster she married, the man to whom she chained us all, the man only I have escaped

I felt in wisps of memory the fear and repulsion and the blows, raining and wailing and swirling around us as we drove on through the dark

No experience is forgotten

I am reminded of the need to confirm these demons of days gone by, to allow them to be and then put them behind me as these twenty-some-odd long gone years demand

I have left the madness and the fear behind; the monster no longer rises to torment my troubled sleep

But still, the ghosts do return now and again, to be seen and heard and then driven back in their haunting, hunted pride

It is a place I left to create myself anew

The ghosts do yet serve in an hour of need, they serve to remind me that the wellspring of compassion and strength which feeds my soul is the legacy of pain

And the language of forgiveness which dares to speak, speaks only truth


- SARA BABINEAUX

 

[neonflux]

New submission to the queue

Thank you for consideration of the following, written as a gift to my 2nd woman lover who is beset by life's difficulties right now. Please don't be afraid to be as rigorous as possible in your critique - and, if wish, to vote for it in it's current state

Normandy

 

[Unbridled_Passion]

Thank You

I appreciate the detailed information on the rules. I am trying to learn how all of this works.

Thanks Again

 

[WickedEve]

I appreciate the detailed information on the rules. I am trying to learn how all of this works.

Thanks Again

Comment on a couple of poems, then post one of yours in this thread and I (or one of the other mods) will start a new thread for your poem. You may also want to try posting on the poetry feedback and discussion forum. Good place to start.

 

[champagne1982]

We haven't discussed any form poetry for a while. I think it's time we actually took a look at our own forum's adopted form, Bob.

This is my example of an interlocked Bob: Weave .

Do the adaptations of the form in S. 4 work and stay true to the spirit of Bob?

I think the form works really well with the subject, thoughts?

Wanna try writing Bob poems?

Thanks everyone.

 

[Gaia_Lorraine]

I am creating a sequence of poems. The first of which is published and entitled English for Beginners (Part 1). Part 2 has already been submitted and awaiting approval. There are potentially many more to come, the seeds of which are already in my mind.
So, how do I go about my 2 comments in to allow me to bubble up the queue?
Do not assume I know how, tell me how.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Pick any two poems from the ones that have already been put up for discussion, here, and comment. Give your honest opinion about the pieces, what works for you and what doesn't and why, respond to the author's questions if he/she included any. Again, let me stress, what the authors want is your honest comments and critiques of the pieces they wrote.

 

[naamplao]

Well I completed the first task of offering two comments on existing poetry so now it is time for me to bare my emotions with a contribution of my own for cirtical comment.

I wrote this a while ago, in a difficult time of my life....but I am much better now


There and back..

Walking in the twilight,
Down a country path.
Walking by myself,
Far from urban wrath.
Walking very slowly,
Dirt scuffed beneath my feet.
Walking heel to toe,
Sensing no retreat.

Listening to the sounds,
Of nature wild and free.
Listening to the birds,
Duck, loon and chickadee,
Listening to the rustle,
Of soft wind blown leaf.
Listening for the answers,
To end my heart felt grief.

Sitting by a river,
Watching life drift by.
Sitting to the west,
Clouds blazing in the sky.
Sitting with eyes cast up,
The stars a cloak above .
Sitting there in the silence,
For an answer to my love.

Wondering if she is there,
Or is she just a dream?
Wondering if a fantasy
Is all I will redeem.
Wondering why love runs
Leaving shadows merely cast
Wondering if I’m not blind
To happenings of the past.

Returning to the present,
Along that worn trail,
Returning ever slowly
Donning cloak and mail,
Returning to my life,
The problems that I weave,
Returning to that mask
Of sunny make-believe.

 

[lobomao]

el lobomao a la carte

I would love to have input on my work - but I don't know how to link... I am not so web saavy...

however...

I would really like any editorial comments from our esteemed community on either of the following poems...

these are typical of my somewhat pronounced style; sound and word play, classc references, myth and legend, personal loss, and surprising subvertive culture references... some of you have said my style is distracitng from my messages, others have really embraced it.

While I love my twisty tricky wicked ways - i do seek to make my work more effective... so in what ways does my verbal trickery distract from meaning, and how big a part does sound play in your reading of poetry?

one critical point made was that my work usually sprawls onward toward epic lengths... So I am interested in what a good edit would do to my work.

song for the corn
by lobomao ©

There are those
And those there are
Who say I take my way
Me to myself too far
And so too true too
As I skip rope rote
I might a might too playful
As in a play a pen I might
Shaking out all old shadows
All in all in all in night
So as the beat drop drips
Honey’d words from high
I see my stars as satilites
Lending leading light to sky
One compelled one once complained
Of cranky crunky crickets caged
Trick trapping flap flying tongues
Loosened leather stories of old shoes
Wagging left right left right left right

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

Roll it up and roll it down
Sycophant afoot a fuss
Back to back and back again
The use of useless tasks
Will it ever never end
Clock theory takes us
To the top of the riff
We relieve our moment
As addict repeats and repeats
Those precious pieces of yesterday
Which caught the tomorrow we dreamed
If we put them end to end to end
I wouldn’t be a bit surpirsed
Hoping for a next right time
Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
And then again I do




two coins for the crossing
by lobomao ©

held so high a loft lifted
toward rising sun rise
chasing our airy dreams
drifting as such ghosts
over steaming lakes
up up and away away
how a wish to be as free
yet the cost of our memories
like lead in our pockets
hold us down hold us back
seven shiny silver soveregns
just enough to betray us

four for our eyes
two between us two
leave one behind
for the lie that binds us
bury it wherever we dare
for future seed fruit to sow

So to high to rise to fall
as we fall forward
in a spring back time step
the snicker snap of tiny tin jaws
teething stripped back bare trap
so that now even our uniquity
seems so similar if not the same
I have only this path I walk
that carried me to you
and carried you a way
swing so low
how much
how further
do we have to go

Look back it goes away awhile
All of this is all very well

 

[WickedEve]

lobomao, choose one poem to start with and I'll post it on its own thread for discussion.

 

[lobomao]

dag yo -

I had hopes of someone else choosing which of my errant children would stand before the sails and heed the call of sirens.


thanks Eve, very well... I choose what I think is the weaker ofthe two;

song for the corn
by lobomao ©

There are those
And those there are
Who say I take my way
Me to myself too far
And so too true too
As I skip rope rote
I might a might too playful
As in a play a pen I might
Shaking out all old shadows
All in all in all in night
So as the beat drop drips
Honey’d words from high
I see my stars as satilites
Lending leading light to sky
One compelled one once complained
Of cranky crunky crickets caged
Trick trapping flap flying tongues
Loosened leather stories of old shoes
Wagging left right left right left right

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

Roll it up and roll it down
Sycophant afoot a fuss
Back to back and back again
The use of useless tasks
Will it ever never end
Clock theory takes us
To the top of the riff
We relieve our moment
As addict repeats and repeats
Those precious pieces of yesterday
Which caught the tomorrow we dreamed
If we put them end to end to end
I wouldn’t be a bit surpirsed
Hoping for a next right time
Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
And then again I do

lobomao wants to know;
my somewhat established style has often been remarked upon; I chose this because I feel she is typical of my work; personal vs epic, usage of sound play, modern and classic references, and could probably benefiet with some good editing.

so here is question - what is most effective element in this poem vs what is least effective for you.

she is unusual as I am nota so happy with the end. can you help el lobomao find a good ending? It's like a lobomao fun page!

thanks to everyone!
blessed be

 

[unapologetic]

January '07

I see a blizzard.
Streets and sidewalks
Covered by think blankets.
Pine branches droop under
Heavy, white loads.
A Rockwell winter comes to life.
I shiver, deliciously,
Aquiver with anticipation
Of stinging cheeks
From stolen moments outside.
And inside?
Steaming, chocolate salvation.

Outside my window,
The few remaining pathetic patches of snow
Mock the winter of my imagination.


This piece started out as my response to a challenge from vampiredust, View from your window (https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=494703), but morphed into this during my weekly poetry appointment with myself. Please feel free to tear it to shreads and help me with all aspects of this piece. What do you think about my choice of topic? What about my words? I want the poem to flow in the first stanza, but kind of feel stagnant in the second - that's what last month felt like as I looked out my office window.

Thanks!

 

[MasterOfX]

Are You Ready For More?

Sitting across from you... staring deeply into your eyes...
My mind can't help but wanderlust... of you to fantasize
Thinking of all the delicious things... I'd do if I were there...
Starting off with something so simple and innocent as running my fingers through your luxurious hair

Kissing you on each one of your fingertips... teasingly...
Kissing you on the back of your wrist... and slowly up your arm, pleasingly...
Running my fingers with a feather light touch...
All over your body... 'cause I know you like it so much

Rubbing essential oils into your flesh...
As I fill the air with aromas that you like best...
Massaging you slowly... missing not one single part...
Losing myself meditating within you... as I become one with your heart...

Pervading your body, your mind and even your soul...
Unleashing my power over you... as I quickly assume control...
You are now mine... there's nothing that you want that shan't be given...
And as you're not in control, you'll be guilty of no sin that need be forgiven.

As you lose yourself in me, and I become more a part of you...
As your body surrenders completely... yielding to what I wish it to do
Trembling lightly, but delightfully, in a giving SHIVER
I watch in captive fascination, as your body sensually quivers.

I ask no questions, as I'm in command... touching you everywhere with roaming hands
But far from wandering aimlessly... they are on a sacred mission
To deliver to me, from you my sweet, your total, utter submission
That you would share your every thought, both waking and asleep
That I would know your every emotion, as no secrets you sought to keep

That I would know each and every single molecule of your flesh
And that finally as one single entity our souls would intermesh
In that state of consciousness above all other things...
That which enlightenment and utter elation brings...

Your body, offered as sacrifice that I may upon your surrender feed
And your one request to me is, "my love, unleash your primal greed."
That you would give your all that I might my deep thirst quench
As I lap at your tender folds, you obey without being told; you drench

Making certain that, literally, the well never runs dry...
As you caress sweetly my cheeks and face with your still quivering thighs
And you confess your total rapture in each and every heart felt sigh

As your body stiffens and you finally cry out... the convulsions rack your form
I slowly lap at you... giving you time to recuperate to your norm

And then I bring up my cream soaked lips...
Up to your beautiful face, and we hungrily kiss
The sensation of your tongue coming out to lick my lips...
As you whisper, "give me more!", and I bring you my dripping finger tips

You know it delights me to watch you sharing my prize...
That as it makes me hunger more... My sex doth mightily rise
And as you tell me it's your turn to please, I kiss you just once again.
And I kiss down to your breasts... licking both areolae and nipples as I grin

I slurp your burgeoning bud in between my hungry lips...
As I suck... and slurp noisily... over and over with my tongue I flick
And then... imparting even harder suction with my mouth...
I pull back away from your breast, not letting it slip out...
'Til finally I'm convinced, it's at its furthest stretch
And I let the tortured nip plop from my lips... to bounce back against your breast -
Engorged, THROBBING and wet.

I smile back up at you... as I see you try to raise...
I shake my head... and I see a pouting smile come across your face
I whisper, "I know you're anxious to please Me pet, but wait for your turn
For I won't let you get a single lick in 'til I know your body doth burn."

I kiss back to the center of your chest...
Exhaling hotly over your breasts
My lips aim back down... just three kisses low
But I trick you... going back up then down again... where I'm going you're not to know.

I stick out my tongue and lick back up toward your neck...
Making sure that the path I leave is aflame, sticky and wet
I then lean back, inhale deeply... and through my pursed lips blow
Icy cold air over moistened flesh... causing your body to go
Into helpless convulsions as the CHILL jumps your spine
And you unravel like a tossed ball of twine

Your body surrenders and TREMBLES... going into a SHUDDER
and before that one can finish... you jump right into another
HARDER... STRONGER... DEEPER than before... yet oh so divine...
You remember between gasps... this is what it means to be Mine

And by the time the shudder's ended...
Your clit's again distended...
For my tongue has slid all over...
And now is deep within it.

My mouth closed tightly around your upper labes
As your moist, sweet, sugar walls my tongue expertly lathes
Tasting your surrender as it drips between your thighs
And I catch you staring down at Me... you are mesmerized.

I stiffen my tongue and bring it hard against your top wall
I grab you with one hand behind your buttocks, lest away from my lips you should fall
I place my other hand back up to your breasts...
Teasing your nipples with twists and pinches, as I caress your flesh

An old Negro Spiritual comes to mind...
And I hum it... buzzing oh so fine...
My deep baritone voice... working like a vibrator
Sending cataclysmic convulsions through your body
As if you were hooked up to a defibrillator

For each strike of my tongue sends a shock to your heart
And each time it retreats, another attack starts
I then increase the suction again...
As I pull you tight to me
Sending my tongue deep stroking within
As I will no longer allow you to be
Calm... and controlled... taking it in stride
No, that's something My love I can not abide

I long to feel you kicking and thrashing... oh damn yes
For that My sweet is the passionate loving that's best.
I bring my hand from off your chest, and wrap it 'round your thigh
And the one that was under your bum, I bring it to on high

I press down firmly against your mound...
As I increase my deep humming sound
The shockwaves blast from your clit to your brain
As your dripping sex MILKS my tongue... you're driven near insane.

I feel your thighs tensing around my ears...
The pressure driving me forward like a thousand fans' cheers
I set my tongue to lapping at a furious speed
As I can no longer deny your body's hungry need

Your pussy convulses... then for a brief second, the squeezing stops
It's as if this one single instant... time has forgot...
Then your back arches up and I hear a pleading sigh
And I remember... that this is why I made you Mine

Your floodgates open... and you release a flow
A flavor so rich... only a god should be privy to know
But I work my tongue hungrily as each spurt of nectar I drink
And as you SURRENDER thusly to Me... further beneath My spell you do sink

I suck in rhythm with your body's shock waves...
Waiting for the right moment... when the orgasm abates
Then right out of the blue... I increase it anew...
And force your body again its nectar to spew

For as you were coming down from your peak
I took you right back on up to the brink
And pushed you down that abysmal plummet
That made you feel your muscles tighten right under your stomach

You're gushing so powerfully against my face...
The blood in both our bodies does rapidly race...
And I swallow at an inhuman pace...
So that none of your sweet surrender I should waste

And finally after long minutes pass...
After you've no longer any reserve to reflex your ass
As your body slumps, temporarily exhausted from your five minute cum
And for at least a brief while... your surrender is done

I gently kiss back up your body... inch by inch
Your body's still reacting, AFTERSHOCKING, with each sexy flinch
And I straddle your body... resting My cock there at the entrance to your dripping core
And I whisper teasingly, "Are you ready for more?"

April 10, 2001, by Master of X
Revised May 8, 2006 by Master of X
Revised February 12, 2007 by Master of X
copyright 2001 - 2007, Master of X


The poem's audience is primarily women, specifically those that simply need to be aroused to the point of having their panties spontaneously combust (though I have received word that women have read it without panties, and I find this audience equally enjoyable); but men have been known to enjoy it as well.

I wrote this back in 2001 with the intention of drenching the panties of three good friends of mine. It worked, but I never really went back and edited it 'til last year and then only cursorily; I've gotten some really helpful feedback in the past couple days from a few friends on sexnet. I'm interested in finding the rough spots that I've missed because I'm so close to the poem. I have a few others that I'll be posting on the site, so in the next few weeks, if there's nothin' else in the queue, I might look for some insight from Literotica's faithful poetry critics on those works as well.

I will say there are a few places where the m in possessive pronouns have been purposefully capitalized; whether it's appropriate or not it's to intensify the experience of power play, especially as the balance for the reader (at least those being personally affected in such a manner) becomes inquestionably submissive.

I'm fairly thick skinned, so by all means, eviscerate it so that I might make improvements where necessary

I couldn't tell you what form this follows if any, it simply flowed and I went with it; I rarely follow any particular form, at least knowingly, outside of rhyme and meter. If someone has a proper title for a form this follows, I'd love to know it because, regarding literature and poetry, I am not as educated as I'd like; it's just something I've always loved.

Thanks in advance for whatever contributions you might make.

Sincerely,
MasterOfX

 

[naamplao]

Midnight Rendezvous

Here is my attempt at an erotic poem. I've had a pretty good reponse to this poem over the years. I don't write many erotics but this was a fun one to create. Comments good and bad are welcome


Midnight Rendezvous
by Naamplao

Lie down beside me, lover,
upon those silken sheets,
let me listen to your heart,
as it slowly beats.
Though we may be miles apart,
I feel your touch, it’s true,
I close my eyes and you are there
for our midnight rendezvous.

Let me whisper sweet soft words,
for your ears alone,
transporting us to a land
where we are quite unknown.
Strolling down a sandy beach,
lying on the sand,
staring at the sun’s rise,
holding you by the hand.

You’re in my arms, my darling.
I brush your lips with mine
kiss you gently on the neck,
dance fingers cross your spine.
You pull me to your bosom;
I suckle at your breast,
the day’s cares just disappear
when I’m thus at rest.

Calm waters begin to stir
far out into the deep
as passions rise, waves crash
onto the beach where they creep
growing ever larger
pounding at the shore
my hands drift cross your body
finding secrets to explore.

Rising to my knees
I kneel before your mound
our eyes lock upon each other
as I kiss, the pearl that I‘ve found.
Tonguing gently, circling slowly,
tasting nectar...Oh, so sweet!
Your thighs caress beside my head,
I revel in this treat.

Agitating ardour as I
slide up to your breasts,
skin to skin, soul to soul,
with all that this suggests.
Your hands pass over my body
and guide me through your door,
revealing treasures far beyond
what I have sensed before.

I surf along this burning wave
climbing to passion’s top,
plunging to the trough of love,
it never seems to stop.
Other waves loom larger ,
tremors start beneath
low moans fill the air,
sharp gasps with clenched teeth.

A burning sense within me
starts its volcanic rise,
our island fantasy is ravaged
with abandon, as feelings harmonize.
Eruptions burst, the ground heaves,
waves explode upon the shore.
Rockets ascend , exploding on high
leaving us spent ... but wanting more.

The line is stilled with panting,
collapsed, and restful now,
water suddenly calms,
you float to earth somehow.
Wanting to be held,
but separated by miles,
comfort in loving words,
picturing the other’s smiles.

So lie beside me lover,
curled in my arms so tight,
your head rests on my shoulder
on another fanciful night.
Soon this line will be broken
another time to renew,
when the phone will announce,
another midnight rendezvous.

 

[unapologetic]

Flying with Dumbo

I posted it here https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?p=21982043#post21982043 but I'm going to put the text of it in this message as well. This one was fun to write, but I'd like some feedback. Specifically, if anyone can help me iron out the iambic pentameter - I achieved it in some places, but not in others. Any feedback is welcome, though. Thanks!

__________________________________________________________________

FLYING WITH DUMBO

I find I sometimes miss my vibrator.
It’s not that I go without orgasm,
it’s just that it’s something I do alone.
I can play in front of my sweet husband
but I find it hard to complete the task
at hand, even with my cute elephant.

Some swear by rabbits, but that elephant,
perched at the base of my pink vibrator,
is more than able to handle the task.
For supplying rapturous orgasm,
as good as those achieved by my husband,
is what Dumbo does whene’er we’re alone.

I miss Dumbo when we can’t be alone,
(so strange to miss a plastic elephant).
Still, I’ve got an understanding husband;
it was he who purchased the vibrator,
the bringer of shattering orgasm,
that so rarely fails to finish the task.

Not that I need Dumbo’s help with the task,
fingers work fine, if I’m ever alone,
and God knows I don’t need an orgasm.
But I’m really fond of my elephant
of my pretty, pink, see-through vibrator,
and I need my time without my husband.

A week of non-stop time with a husband,
who’s also way more than up to the task,
still leaves me craving my cute vibrator.
Today, when finally I was alone,
I sought the solace of my elephant
who then brought me more than one orgasm.

Each one was just perfect, each orgasm
that I had without aid of my husband.
Each wave of the trunk of that elephant
brought me closer to finishing my task.
So, that’s what I did with my time alone:
I sat home and played with my vibrator.

With each orgasm, each completed task,
I crave my husband, and less time alone,
‘cause the elephant’s just a vibrator.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

~Withdrawn~

 

[das_risiko]

Submission for discussion

Well, now that I have gotten myself correctly oriented to this forum, I would like to submit a poem for discussion and critique. Please accept my apologies for the erroneous postings.

The following poem is meant to be abstract in the sense that those who read it can derive two different meanings from it. For the everyday reader, it will come across as simply a poem about drinking coffee, but for the Lit reader, a deeper abstract meaning will be found. The purpose of this is to disguise the deeper meaning from those that may be offended by it while allowing the more liberated reader to enjoy the hidden treasure. Please let me know what you think.

Poem # 203 Coffee

to drink the sweet bitterness
of coffee
on the tip of the tongue
do not poison it
with sugar
the bitterness is sweet enough
maybe a little cream
before it is gone
stirred thoroughly
until it lightens
leaving only cream
in the bottom of the cup

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Well, now that I have gotten myself correctly oriented to this forum, I would like to submit a poem for discussion and critique. Please accept my apologies for the erroneous postings.

Hello, Das_risiko, and welcome to the Poetry Forum. Hope you enjoy your stay!

You should be aware that, as is said in the Welcome thread, this specific subforum (Poetry Discussion Circle) is about focused and intense critique and discussion of poems; in order to offer your poem up for discussion, you should first make two non-trivial critiques, as specific and substantial as possible.