LOL! I've probably seen it, but I was an Edgar Allen Poe fan longer before the Simpsons showed up.
Poetry Appreciation (do NOT post your own poetry)
- Thread starter Tamstrong
- Start date
LOL! I've probably seen it, but I was an Edgar Allen Poe fan longer before the Simpsons showed up.
BlackMasterJay
Well-Known Member
Oh yeah......this is more like my type,....read below
a creeping shadow at the door
boots cracking crack pipes on the floor
a man walks in with a covered face
she tells him to leave her place
shooting thru her lips -saliva spits
craving her completely, aching for her kiss
stabbin her clit, with his fingers so gripped
she pushes back too late, hes too quick
crease her existeence with the edge of his teeth
deavourin her pussy like a raging beast
plunging into her cunt with a grasping grunt
she shakes, she quivers, as her ejaculation begin to lunge
bluntly raising her pelvis, smelling his masculine musk
the essence of an african brother ready to bust
eatin her dusty rose colored flesh, mesh his canines
her clit shrine, sipping her juices like fine wine
shes in ecstasy , climaxed crying for release
layin on her back, with him on his kneees
your fuckin pussy was designed for my penetration
I came all this way to observe your ejaculation
lickin and suckin it, and here is my salutation
she emerges from darkness in ecstasy riding his dick to oblivion
her eyes obsidian, dark blue with a lit spark as she barks
with a growl vibrating from the depth of her heart
Viciously bitng her breasts, he wants nothing left
fucking her raw, making her crawl
sprawled on all fours. sweat drippin with semen on the floor
hes in her pores, as her lover walks thru the door
a creeping shadow at the door
boots cracking crack pipes on the floor
a man walks in with a covered face
she tells him to leave her place
shooting thru her lips -saliva spits
craving her completely, aching for her kiss
stabbin her clit, with his fingers so gripped
she pushes back too late, hes too quick
crease her existeence with the edge of his teeth
deavourin her pussy like a raging beast
plunging into her cunt with a grasping grunt
she shakes, she quivers, as her ejaculation begin to lunge
bluntly raising her pelvis, smelling his masculine musk
the essence of an african brother ready to bust
eatin her dusty rose colored flesh, mesh his canines
her clit shrine, sipping her juices like fine wine
shes in ecstasy , climaxed crying for release
layin on her back, with him on his kneees
your fuckin pussy was designed for my penetration
I came all this way to observe your ejaculation
lickin and suckin it, and here is my salutation
she emerges from darkness in ecstasy riding his dick to oblivion
her eyes obsidian, dark blue with a lit spark as she barks
with a growl vibrating from the depth of her heart
Viciously bitng her breasts, he wants nothing left
fucking her raw, making her crawl
sprawled on all fours. sweat drippin with semen on the floor
hes in her pores, as her lover walks thru the door
swirlman07
Well-Known Member
116th Sonnet of Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
It's definitely one of my favorites.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
It's definitely one of my favorites.
:smt023
swirlman07
Well-Known Member
So, are you are fan of Shakespeare as well? I enjoy everything Shakespeare. I love the spoken prose of the period. I have often thought how nice it would be to participate in a costume affair of the period, where everyone dresses up, dance, eat and speak, all in keeping with the period. I guess that and my love of Romeo and Juliet make a hopeless romantic, lol.
My Wish
I wish when I stand from this chair
that you would be behind me,
and you would wrap your arms around my body
one resting on my breast,
the other sliding down to that most treasured of places.
We are both clothed but the heat generated by our bodies
as you kiss my neck smelling the perfume
I placed there just for you, is so intense
that I can feel the beads of sweat
appearing on my forehead.
I am not sure how long we stand
gently swaying, our bodies following
our inner serpents.
I feel through our movements the beautiful firmness
below your waist, so enticing.
I turn and we embrace, and kissing
so passionately I feel elevated.
But, what I really want is to taste you,
to feel the fullness of you in my mouth,
to feel your softness against my lips, my tongue, my cheek.
I would drink you if you would let me,
but a taste is all I am allowed
for you have better plans.
You coax me to the softness of the cushions
and on our knees we undress one another,
kissing, kissing, and touching everywhere.
Our smiles are youthful and innocent, yet we are not.
I pick up your hands and one by one gently
kiss your finger tips, then your palms.
So pleased you are that you take me into your arms,
and whispering everything I love to hear,
lay me down and pleasure me so,
drinking every drop not spilling a one.
Then you kiss my lips, I can taste my love on your mouth,
it is our love.
Your movements beg for more and as you climb on top,
I invite you in
the gentle rocking blurs our minds and senses
we have disappeared
having become one.
By Erotic Poet, Satu
I wish when I stand from this chair
that you would be behind me,
and you would wrap your arms around my body
one resting on my breast,
the other sliding down to that most treasured of places.
We are both clothed but the heat generated by our bodies
as you kiss my neck smelling the perfume
I placed there just for you, is so intense
that I can feel the beads of sweat
appearing on my forehead.
I am not sure how long we stand
gently swaying, our bodies following
our inner serpents.
I feel through our movements the beautiful firmness
below your waist, so enticing.
I turn and we embrace, and kissing
so passionately I feel elevated.
But, what I really want is to taste you,
to feel the fullness of you in my mouth,
to feel your softness against my lips, my tongue, my cheek.
I would drink you if you would let me,
but a taste is all I am allowed
for you have better plans.
You coax me to the softness of the cushions
and on our knees we undress one another,
kissing, kissing, and touching everywhere.
Our smiles are youthful and innocent, yet we are not.
I pick up your hands and one by one gently
kiss your finger tips, then your palms.
So pleased you are that you take me into your arms,
and whispering everything I love to hear,
lay me down and pleasure me so,
drinking every drop not spilling a one.
Then you kiss my lips, I can taste my love on your mouth,
it is our love.
Your movements beg for more and as you climb on top,
I invite you in
the gentle rocking blurs our minds and senses
we have disappeared
having become one.
By Erotic Poet, Satu
I've always been a Shakespeare fan. I know what you mean; the language was beautiful & poetic. I also love theatre; a Shakespearean themed party does sound like fun because it would be kind of like doing a play. There's nothing wrong with being a hopeless romantic as long as things don't end the way they did for Romeo & Juliet, lol.
subtlenote
Active Member
From the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Ah Love ! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits - and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire
...
and
Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears:
To-morrow--Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.
....
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.
Ah Love ! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits - and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire
...
and
Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears:
To-morrow--Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.
....
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.
naija4real
New Member
Olokun
Olokun
I love to pass my fingers
(As tide thro' weeds of the sea
And wind the tall fern-fronds)
Thro' the strands of your hair
Dark as night that screens the naked moon:
I am jealous and passionate
Like Jehovah, God of the Jews,
And I would that you realise
No greater love had woman
From man than the one I have for you!
But what wakeful eyes of man,
Made of the mud of this earth,
Can stare at the touch of sleep
The sable vehicle of dream
Which indeed is the look of your eyes!
So drunken, like ancient walls
We crumble in heaps at your feet;
And as the good maid of the sea,
Full of rich bounties for men,
You lift us all beggars to your breast.
By: J. P. Clark
Olokun
I love to pass my fingers
(As tide thro' weeds of the sea
And wind the tall fern-fronds)
Thro' the strands of your hair
Dark as night that screens the naked moon:
I am jealous and passionate
Like Jehovah, God of the Jews,
And I would that you realise
No greater love had woman
From man than the one I have for you!
But what wakeful eyes of man,
Made of the mud of this earth,
Can stare at the touch of sleep
The sable vehicle of dream
Which indeed is the look of your eyes!
So drunken, like ancient walls
We crumble in heaps at your feet;
And as the good maid of the sea,
Full of rich bounties for men,
You lift us all beggars to your breast.
By: J. P. Clark
naija4real
New Member
Ibadan
Ibadan
Ibadan,
running splash of rust
and gold-flung and scattered
among seven hills like broken
china in the sun.
J.P. Clark
Ibadan
Ibadan,
running splash of rust
and gold-flung and scattered
among seven hills like broken
china in the sun.
J.P. Clark
:smt023
It Is Your Mind by David Whalen
Whatcha’ gonna’ do
When your mind
Takes you
To places… that you
Don’t want
To go?
After all, it is your mind
You should rule it!
Wouldn’t you think that was so?
What do you do when you look
at your partner, and instead
See a stranger in bed with you?
And why does your mind
Seem to always find
A reason to make you feel blue?
What do you do
When you see your house,
yet your mind no longer… sees a home?
What do you do
When in a room full of people
Your mind reminds you… you’re all alone?
What do you do
When your mind makes you
Read aloud… words which once, you were smitten
You put your hands o'er your ears
To shut out the fears… and the tears
from the words that your mind’s just written
Whatcha’ gonna’ do
When your mind
Takes you
To places… that you
Don’t want
To go?
After all, it is your mind
You should rule it!
Wouldn’t you think that was so?
What do you do when you look
at your partner, and instead
See a stranger in bed with you?
And why does your mind
Seem to always find
A reason to make you feel blue?
What do you do
When you see your house,
yet your mind no longer… sees a home?
What do you do
When in a room full of people
Your mind reminds you… you’re all alone?
What do you do
When your mind makes you
Read aloud… words which once, you were smitten
You put your hands o'er your ears
To shut out the fears… and the tears
from the words that your mind’s just written
Broken Love by Amanda Foley
I love you
I love you not
My heart is broken
My head is shot
You're in my thoughts
You're in my dreams
These feelings make me
Want to scream
I gave my love
Gave you my all
You stood there
And watched me fall
What you said
And what you did
It made me cry
And then I hid
In my room
Head between my knees
I need an answer
So tell me please
Is this real
Or is this fake
Please be honest
So my heart doesn't break.
I love you
I love you not
My heart is broken
My head is shot
You're in my thoughts
You're in my dreams
These feelings make me
Want to scream
I gave my love
Gave you my all
You stood there
And watched me fall
What you said
And what you did
It made me cry
And then I hid
In my room
Head between my knees
I need an answer
So tell me please
Is this real
Or is this fake
Please be honest
So my heart doesn't break.
naija4real
New Member
If - Rudyard Kipling
If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!
–Rudyard Kipling
If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!
–Rudyard Kipling
Raging Storm
by tigerjen©
angry rain storm
furiously drags
on through
dead of night
water drowning
grass
flowers
roots of trees
so by
dawn
life is renewed
raging storm
makes me
dream of you
awake
missing your kisses
velvet caresses
covering my soul
in the
night
yearning for
your voice
whispering
in my ear
speaking
worshipful
words
making me
blush
swoon
in your arms
Make love in the storm?
by Jayderayn©
Tell me...
Would you like to make love in the storm?
Steaming hot skin cooled by cold rain drops.
Lovemaking's passion matched by the storm's thunder.
Water dripping off your hair onto my face.
Skin glistening, sweat mixed with rain, in the dusky gray light.
Lightening crashing around us as our passion crescendos to the storm's music.
So, tell me...
would you like to make love in the storm?
by tigerjen©
angry rain storm
furiously drags
on through
dead of night
water drowning
grass
flowers
roots of trees
so by
dawn
life is renewed
raging storm
makes me
dream of you
awake
missing your kisses
velvet caresses
covering my soul
in the
night
yearning for
your voice
whispering
in my ear
speaking
worshipful
words
making me
blush
swoon
in your arms
Make love in the storm?
by Jayderayn©
Tell me...
Would you like to make love in the storm?
Steaming hot skin cooled by cold rain drops.
Lovemaking's passion matched by the storm's thunder.
Water dripping off your hair onto my face.
Skin glistening, sweat mixed with rain, in the dusky gray light.
Lightening crashing around us as our passion crescendos to the storm's music.
So, tell me...
would you like to make love in the storm?
An Old Story By Edwin Arlington Robinson
Strange that I did not know him then,
That friend of mine!
I did not even show him then
One friendly sign;
But cursed him for the ways he had
To make me see
My envy of the praise he had
For praising me.
I would have rid the earth of him
Once, in my pride!...
I never knew the worth of him
Until he died.
A Penitential Week by Carolyn Wells
The week had gloomily begun
For Willie Weeks, a poor man's
SUN.
He was beset with bill and dun,
And he had very little
MON.
"This cash," said he, "won't pay my dues,
I've nothing here but ones and
TUES."
A bright thought struck him, and he said:
"The rich Miss Goldrocks I will
WED."
But when he paid his court to her,
She lisped, but firmly said: "No,
THUR."
"Alas," said he, "then I must die!
Although hereafter I may
FRI."
They found his gloves, and coat, and hat;
The Coroner upon them
SAT.
Sometimes by Thomas S. Jones, Jr.
Across the fields of yesterday
He sometimes comes to me,
A little lad just back from play—
The lad I used to be.
And yet he smiles so wistfully
Once he has crept within,
I wonder if he hopes to see
The man I might have been.
Strange that I did not know him then,
That friend of mine!
I did not even show him then
One friendly sign;
But cursed him for the ways he had
To make me see
My envy of the praise he had
For praising me.
I would have rid the earth of him
Once, in my pride!...
I never knew the worth of him
Until he died.
A Penitential Week by Carolyn Wells
The week had gloomily begun
For Willie Weeks, a poor man's
SUN.
He was beset with bill and dun,
And he had very little
MON.
"This cash," said he, "won't pay my dues,
I've nothing here but ones and
TUES."
A bright thought struck him, and he said:
"The rich Miss Goldrocks I will
WED."
But when he paid his court to her,
She lisped, but firmly said: "No,
THUR."
"Alas," said he, "then I must die!
Although hereafter I may
FRI."
They found his gloves, and coat, and hat;
The Coroner upon them
SAT.
Sometimes by Thomas S. Jones, Jr.
Across the fields of yesterday
He sometimes comes to me,
A little lad just back from play—
The lad I used to be.
And yet he smiles so wistfully
Once he has crept within,
I wonder if he hopes to see
The man I might have been.
wtarshi
Well-Known Member
a sample of the work of leonard cohen...
Dance Me To The End Of Love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance Me To The End Of Love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Beautiful! :smt023