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*  Poetry

Haiku 2012
by Various Authors

Haiku 2001
by Various Authors

Limericks 2016
by Various Authors

Limericks 2012
by Various Authors

Limericks 2007
by Various Authors

by Various Authors

Horrible Erotikishka Pomes
by Various Authors

By Ashley Lister
Kisses Crops and Canes
Kneel and Worship
Sonnet 18+

By john e
A Sometimes Belligerent...
Acorns and Moss
antecedent obliteration
Doing Without
It Slips Away
Molly Was Not...
ny girl
The Voyeur Leaves
upon the roof
Your clothes

By Nettie Kestler
Falls to Mabon

By Nick Nicholson
All Days Valentine

By Nikki Isaak

By Raziel Moore
Does poetry have rules?
Where is my poetry?

By Rose B. Thorny
3 x 3 x 3
That Old Refrain

By Valentina Bonnaire

Slut-Hoe ...
by A.J. Heard

Plastic Virgin
by Anthony Beal

Deflowering the...
by Arlene Ang

Open Vegas Robe
by Charlton Metcalf

Lap Organ
by Daddy X

Don't Leave
by Eileen Malone

by Ella McCrystle

Your clothes

by john e


erotic poetry

in an instant of unsubtle prologue scatter the story
as far as the bedroom door, and the clean carpet
in the corner of our room; your panties land on the sill
a moment, then wisp away. you're naked now: so soon?

until i look into your eyes i'm uneasy,
cheated of some expected show.
(since both of us let go of the world together:
though i disrobe, you strip slowly) -- yet

could this lascivious tale be told any better?
your body's heated argument frantic, dark
eyes release desire, a sudden stare
belies both attachment, anonymity -- big words

cut down. who are you now? a distracted body
only? cancel the tease now, pounce to be entered, as the world
dawdles through replayed fantasy in borrowed time,
as we spasm into our own world, one body now

free to continue to write unfinish able
orgiastic discovery each instant,
free to think: first writhe, best writhe ...
jumbled syllables froth in a moist spring,

ascend in driving summer, exhale into fall
our deeper colors, and, icy, still sing through winterlife.
another moment passes, this repeats,
and we are ungraceful as life unstudied, disheveled

and pressed. yet no artifice allows any pause longed for,
any repeat wagging of lust's tall tail,
each fantasy pale in the afternoon's inscrutable confusion,
delicious haste made flesh, gutteral utterance purer

than any memory of dream, or siren's striptease.

© 2013 john e. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.


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