Nectar
Something
That pours
Into his
Mouth,
From me
I call it
Nectar.
He calls it
The juice
Of my
Yoni.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Let the Feelings flow
When you tell me Dear
That you want to feel
My Yoni.
I wonder if you want to
Do it with your Mouth
Fingers or Phallus.
How about letting
Each of them
Take Turns...
In telling you
How they feel
Within the outer
And the inner
Peripheries of me
And my Yoni.
I am all yours.
Let the feelings flow…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Fingers
In that photo of yours
I saw you –
Your face, your shoulders,
Your hands, and then
Your fingers…
My lips quivered
So did my hands
And I felt like touching you,
With my quivering lips
And unsure hands,
Those very beautiful
Exquisite fingers…
Reading your poems of love
And pondering over your letters…
Sometimes I imagine
You writing to me
With those very same
Slender and artistic
Adept fingers…
Very often I feel
And wonder…
If your fingers
Ever do ache
Writing so long,
So nice,
And so very endless,
Day after day…
And if they do, my Love
I feel like pampering them
With tender, loving care
A kiss here, a kiss there…
Holding them,
Caressing them,
Sucking them slow…
Your fingers in my mouth
Taking turns to go
One by one,
I feel them,
Nibble them,
Suckle them,
Make love to them,
Within the deep recesses
Of my oral crevice…
Till they feel pampered
And satiated
And I feel the same too…
Contented and happy
Making love to you
With your fingers
In my mouth…
A wonderful tryst
Of love and lust,
Warmth and arousal,
And then if you wish…
And if I'm also willing,
We can play this game
All night long…
Where you don’t win
And I don’t lose
We both win over together
And lose ourselves
To each other…
I give free rein to
Your fingers…
To touch, feel
And explore
The inner crevices
And every pore
Of my body…
The mouth has had its turn
Now, do you wish to go
Further down..?
And see how it feels
To caress my breasts,
My derriere and my
Yoni,
With those seeking,
Exploring fingers of yours…
You’ve penned a lot of poetry
And your letters intoxicate me…
How about writing
Some letters of love
And a few lines of love ballads
On the spaces and margins
Of my body…
Dipping your fingers,
And drinking into
The juice of my
Dripping Yoni…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Nectar turns honey
Nectar in the flower turns honey
Through the mouth of bees.
Truth is like nectar.
We get it as honey from the mouth [of people]
12.04.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mouth
You know
Where your
Mouth belongs
No, it doesn't
Belong to my
Mouth ;)
No, not even
To your face.
It belongs to my
One and only
Yoni ;)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Opposites Attract!
My yoni’s
Always wet -
Your mouth’s
Always dry.
No wonder,
Opposites
Attract ;)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Heaven
His mouth
Is the
Heaven
In which
My
Yoni
Has
Countless
Rebirt hs
To
Attain
Moksha.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Life is nectar
Beginning is poison
End is nectar
No no
Beginning is nectar
Middle is nectar
End is also nectar
Whole things
Whole activities
Is only nectar
Enjoy the life
Life is not bitter
Life is nectar.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Light Pours Out Of Me
Time flies
Time crawls
Link an insect up and down the walls
The light pours out of me [x2]
The conspiracy of silence
Ought to revolutionize my thought
The light pours out of me [x2]
The cold light of day pours of of me
Leaving me black and so healthy
The light pours out of me [x2]
It jerks out of me
Just like blood
In this still life
Heart beats up love
The light pours out of me
Pours out of me....
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The middle region of the sky
The middle region of the sky,
wherein the spirit dwelleth,
is radiant with the music of light;
There, where the pure and white music blossoms,
my Lord takes His delight.
In the wondrous effulgence of each hair of His body, t
he brightness of millions of suns and of moons is lost.
On that shore there is a city,
where the rain of nectar pours and pours,
and never ceases.
Kabîr says: 'Come, O Dharmadas!
and see my great Lord's Durbar.'
It's Oozing...
I am loving the feel
Of the way
It is oozing...
Wet and Warm,
Soft and Tender,
White and Clear
With a misty smell
Nature's Spell -
Feel at home
With the way
It is oozing...
Drop by Drop,
Flows and Stops
Flows again...
Stops to Pause
And makes me feel
Like an amorous woman.
And then it again
Oozes...
I love the smell
You would too
On such oozing days
I really miss you.
I am sure, you would
Love the taste of it too.
Though I leave it to you
How you would like to
Lip it, Sip it,
Savouring...
Every dropp of it.
Come to me,
When you are thirsty
And I'll quench you.
Do let me know
How best I can serve you.
Would you like to
Follow me down
To drink me divine
From my oozing Yoni?
Or
Would you like to
Explore, finger and feel,
The source of all my oozes,
The smell of all that amuses
The oozing woman in me,
And the thirsting man in you?
Pray, do let me know
How you want to explore -
And I'll take you to the Forest
Deep down there...
And amongst the many,
Soft and tender, supple and slender,
Layers and layers of love and warmth,
You will savour the taste,
The feel and the smell,
Of Nature's Spell -
That succulent, juicy
Nectar of mine
The oozing Amrit
Of my dripping Yoni.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Nectar Sweet
My humming bird heart
beats for you
faster still with you in sight;
but you my flower
elude me.
I flutter
mid-air in flight
above other flowers
but no nectar drips from my beak's visit;
no matter how far I plunge
toward some flower's-center
it's not yours, and I retreat.
I pause,
flutter away
without that sweet juice of yours
I crave.
Possessing it is my Obsessions' Obsession.
Nothing deters my eye
from my flower-mission;
neither cat
nor rival bird
challenge me
when they espy my determined ire,
as I put my sharpened beak on display,
exhibiting to them my humming bird speed
and my reckless need.
No, they shrink
away
with second thoughts
and leave me to my nectar quest.
Some flowers are beautiful,
but none so beautiful as yours;
this is set in me for all time-
even if I,
nectarless,
become weak and falter-
no longer able to fly
and plunge spiraling to the ground;
I will have you my sweet
or no nectar at all.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finally The Bee Takes The Nectar Upon Itself
in the end he gives up his identify as the
working bee buzzing in the garden
of his own choosing
circling the flowers that newly bloom
hovering and sitting on them
with his mouth and sting
and sucking all the nectars therein
he takes upon itself
what is prohibited
the caste system
and the queen
today it sets itself free from the rule
and flies freely in the air
the nectar is his
because he works for it
and justifiably so
another kingdom is born
his nectar democracy
his freedom
his own destruction
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Orange juice
Orange juice mom says drink
When i am sick
It can make me thick
Orange juice i have to pick
licking mom says no
Drinking i have to do
Hate orange juice, mom says i know
Vitamin C it has
And i need to take
for my own sake
Healthy it can make me
Power it can give me
Orange juice
Is all i need
When i am in lead
With the kids at the lake.! :)
poem by michelle al G
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Green Tea Or Juice
Green tea or juice
please don't ask anymore
'just give me anything
to quench my thirst.
Green tea or juice
please don't ask anymore
don't make me think
I've never been in your sight.
Green tea or juice
whatever
just come and join me watch the huge blue sky
while drinking...green tea? ....or juice.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Squelch The Weasel
Squelch the little weasel, crush him before he spawns
Break it to me gently, but with merriment and song
Squelch the little weasel, juice him as he bleeds
Feed him to the many, for thoust their souls shall weep
Sipping of the sunray blading in the earth
Evolving was the nectar given to the weasel birth
I was just a puppet until the clouds caved in
Bless me now you are sacred my flesh betwixt my skin
Sipping of the sunray blading in the earth
Evolving was the nectar given to the weasel birth
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Allie
Allie, call the birds in,
The birds from the sky.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Down they all fly.
First there came
Two white doves
Then a sparrow from his nest,
Then a clucking bantam hen,
Then a robin red-breast.
Allie, call the beasts in,
The beasts, every one.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
In they all run.
First there came
Two black lambs,
Then a grunting Berkshire sow,
Then a dog without a tail,
Then a red and white cow.
Allie, call the fish up,
The fish from the stream.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Up they all swim.
First there came
Two gold fish,
A minnow and a miller's thumb,
Then a pair of loving trout,
Then the twisted eels come.
Allie, call the children,
Children from the green.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Soon they run in.
First there came
Tom and Madge,
Kate and I who'll not forget
How we played by the water's edge
Till the April sun set.
poem by Robert Graves
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Home-Coming
The smell is the same
So is the place
Soft and tender
Full of grace
Touch feels good
So does the taste
Juicy and supple
Make no haste
Take your time
For the drink divine
Pure and chaste
Is the nectar sublime
As you savour it
With every sip
Quenching your thirst
Drop by drop,
Deep within that
Sacred space
I give you access
To my Yoni
For your spiritual coming…
And when you enter me
Flooding my gates open
In that holy place
Of pleasure and pain
I shelter you in
With love and warmth
To welcome you back
For your auspicious
Home-Coming.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everyone calls it India, but I call it Home!
Everyone calls it India, but I call it home. The place where I grew up. Where I started life, met my first friends. Where life started to make sense. Everyone calls it India, but I call it home. When I am in trouble all my friends are there, but most of all my home saves me from all. Where I learned to speak and learned my ABCs. Everyone calls it India, but I call it home. Where I learned to walk, I took my first steps but then fell, my home was there to rescue me. Where life started to make sense, its not just India, it’s my home. Everyone calls it India, but I call it home
poem by Innocent Angel
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When She Calls Me Baby
She'll call me honey, when she needs a helpin' hand,
She might say darlin' if she needs someone who understands.
She'll call me sugar, if she's feelin' kind of sweet,
She'll say that I'm crazy over my little jealousy.
But when she calls me baby, I just reach for the light,
And I'll hold her like a lady, thank God she's all mine.
With her arms around me, I can't leave the world behind.
When she calls me baby, well, I know what's on her mind.
When this life has brought me to my knees,
She's got a way of bring out the man in me.
When she calls me baby, I just reach for the light,
And I'll hold her like a lady, thank God she's all mine.
With her arms around me, I can't leave the world behind.
When she calls me baby, well, I know what's on her mind.
Oh, when she calls me baby, well, I know what's on her mind.
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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