I think the quality of sexiness comes from within. It is something that is in you or it isn't and it really doesn't have much to do with breasts or thighs or the pout of your lips.
quote by Sophia Loren
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Left-To-Pout
I want to know what you want.
This beating around the bush skit,
Has played out.
From your lips to my ears...
I want to hear what this is about!
Come out with it!
You're gay?
Is that what you want to say?
Or is it,
You are cruiser friendly?
Don't claim you are a freak.
You'd be walking on the wrong turf,
In my territory.
On my streets.
What is it?
You're a lesbian in a borrowed body?
And you want to confess this to Oprah.
While the camera pans the audience...
To zoom and focus upon me,
Exposing my complete humiliation!
Has that been scheduled?
You know I need advance notification.
When is it?
Is that what this is?
And I am NOT delusional.
So don't look at me like that!
As if we are playing 'Jeopardy'...
And I haven't responded with the right question.
To deliver you from your game of 'Hide and Seek'.
Very soon you can STAY 'hidden'.
To play cat and mouse in an empty house.
I want to know what you want.
This beating around the bush skit,
Has played out.
From your lips to my ears...
I want to hear what this is about!
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
You're gay?
Is that what you want to say?
Or is it,
You are cruiser friendly?
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Don't claim you are a freak.
You'd be walking on the wrong turf,
In my territory.
And on my streets.
And that kind of competition,
Is beyond my seeking.
Come out with it!
Or-be-left-to-pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or-be-left-to-pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
OR-BE-LEFT-TO-POUT! .
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty has no standard
Plump cheeks,
Surging breasts,
Massive buttocks
Fleshy thighs.
It is epic beauty.
Firm cheeks,
Standing breasts,
Bonny buttocks,
Slender thighs,
It is modern beauty.
Beauty reforms according to fashion.
26.04.2002, pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Men's traditional view of sexiness isn't sexy. It shouldn't be so obvious: push-up bras and miniskirts? Sexiness, to me, is when people are comfortable with themselves.
quote by Sienna Miller
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sexiness, particularly in movies, is the chess game in the 'Thomas Crown Affair'. It's, it's, I don't know, but Faye Dunaway comes up a lot in that thinking. It's the subtlety of sexiness. The moment you try to be sexy, then it's not.
quote by Daniel Craig
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plain
spread. white.
thin. two x two.
rectangular,
you stretch your imagination.
open a scar again.
remove the cut.
undress.
open your lips.
pout.
kiss my feet.
rise.
kiss my head.
i will kneel
don't. please remain
standing.
my tongue can do it.
only for you.
i cannot say a word.
tongue
tied.
i am licking a stamp.
preparing this
mail to a faraway
lover.
i remember what licking
is beside
a stamp.
my feet are too small
for this task. i may ask the help
of four hands.
i have only one
held by this hand.
too much silence here.
i have this thick blanket
and the wind is
too cold.
there is a point
that i toss with my nails
it rolls like a line
and
i am connecting to you
thighs. thighs.
strong legs, and a very warm
pair of lips.
how can i be numb?
you are far.
that is not fair.
i make love to you.
my mind is a traveller into that thousand nights.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Still it is fresh.
You have been in use.
Your lips are a sucked one,
The breasts a cupped one,
The nape a smelt one,
The thighs a kneaded one
And the part a pierced one.
I don’t mind; you are fresh to me.
I read books read by others.
11.06.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cappacino and Lust
She raised the steaming carton to her pout,
full lips meeting a head of froth
and chocolate
and there go I,
or at least the part of me
that lives between the thighs.
Caffeine and polystyrene
creating thoughts obscene.
When she pulled it away bubbles remained,
a delicate coat on her top lip.
I wanted to kiss it away,
to taste the chocolate
and her breath, but couldn't.
I was with my girlfriend that morning.
poem by David E Golledge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All You See
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Aaah Haa
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Hey Hey
Verse 1 Terry
You best believe everyday I get the same ole thang
All kind of bruthas coming up to me
With silly lies that could make you sick oh they need to quit
And get away from me, don't get me wrong I like attention too
But do they really have to act a foolCuz they see a lady lookin' good?
Please admit
Chorus
Is it my hips? my lips?
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest? My hair?
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Is it my hips? My lips?
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest? My hair?
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Verse 2 Terry
In a limousine, fancy car, bling-bling-bling
Even if you're standing 6 foot 3 or 3 feet tall with no teeth
Have respect for me, try conversation please
Before you try and put your hands on me
When will they ever learn there's more to me,
Than T&A on this PYT
Daddy please
Chorus
Is it my hips? my lips? (Daddy)
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest?(My chest) My hair? (My hair)
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Is it my hips? (My hips) my lips? (My lips)
My eyes? (My eyes) My thighs? (My thighs)
My chest? (My chest) My hair? (My hair)
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Bridge Michael Marshall:
How come you actin' like you don't know
Why some bruthas always lose control
When you're wearing them hip high jeans
With your thong out baby please let a playa speak
And don't you start to tweak,
You got the body that can make men weep
So when you walk around in those do me clothes like those videhos
Girl you need to know that all I'm lookin' at is
Chorus
Hips and lipsAnd eyes, your thighs
Your chest, your hair
Girl that big ole (hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
Your hips, your lips
Your eyes, your thighs
Your chest baby, your hair
You're sexy underwear (hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
Uh-huh Uh-huh sexy underwear I see
Ooh and I know, I know
Your hips somethin' 'bout your thighs
Is driving me crazy, Ooh hey uh-huh uh-huh
(Ooh)Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Aaah Haa
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Hey Hey
(hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is Sometimes Hidden.
Just as Minnie gets in the mood
to play the Debussy Violin
Sonata her mother says the
photographer is waiting and
so she has to go along to the
lounge and pose and have her
picture taken and as she stands
there with her violin dressed
to the nines the photographer
says no do not smile it cheapens
the effect and so she stiffens
her lips and stares at the young
photographer's moustache and
her mother says do has the man
wants dear and don't pout so
and so she ceases to pout and
gazes at the box camera and man
hidden behind the cloth his hand
visible and do not move he says
hold it do not fidget dear her
mother says and puts her hands
on her shoulders and places her
in the position her mother thinks
the photographer wants is that it?
her mother asks the photographer
smiling in that way she smiles that
gives the impression of an imbecile
yes yes he says that is it and so she
stands as placed the sensation of
wanting to urinate suddenly upon
her and so she squeezes her thighs
together her knees touching her
hands gripping the violin trying
silently to keep the urine in.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Delight
There was that sweet delight
especially when she
had that smile on her
and as you sat
by the pond with her
and she joined her hands
over her knees
and stared ahead
at the ducks out there
and you gazed at her
sideward on
and took in
her fine breasts
and thighs
and she said
ducks are very greasy creatures
to eat unlike rabbits
which are very dry
and you said
I guess they are
but my sisters wouldn't
touch either with a bargepole
and she raised her eyebrows
and sighed and said
guess they would
if they were starving
and you said
I guess people would eat
almost anything
if they were starving
and she turned
towards you
and said
I read somewhere
they ate each other
in the Civil War in Russia
and there was
some sweet delight
when she said that
and the way
her breasts and thighs
captured your eyes
with love of course
with a small dose of lust
mixed in
and that wished
for passion
and dream of sin.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What A Waste
sometimes
i think it is a waste of time
spending it here
with you,
i am lost in my thoughts
where to go after this
what to do from here
somehow
the wasted hours
fade
in this
ecstasy
forgetting you is an impossibility
i am hooked to love you
this lust is a reality
your lips your breasts
your thighs
the smell of your sweat
the sweetness of your voice
enthralled
i am your slave waiting
for the further instructions
of your hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Famous Movie Poem - French Lieutenant's Woman
from the waves
she comes to your dream
a cauldron of longings
seeking your reassuring touch
thighs, legs, hands, breasts
blowing a tempest
in a bed of passions
please dont hold on to her
when it is over,
the waves will take her
to where she belongs
between the waves,
twinkling lights
charted by the breeze
and stars
the beautiest of passion
is what leaves
a bedfull of memory
which one can hold tightly to
reassuring as a treasure chest
warm as two sworn lovers'
bridge to paradise
legs, thighs,
hands, breasts..
the woman who comes
with a passion
the rolling of
incessant waves
and goes away,
quiet and swift
as a morning star
diluted by light of day
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The quality of mercy (conditions apply)
The quality of mercy,
Portia declared,
the quality of mercy is
suspended during the present conflict
the quality of mercy is
not the business of a Minister of Justice
the quality of mercy is
not a matter of individual conscience
the quality of mercy is
too subtle for public discussion
or law
the quality of mercy is
only for Shakespeare and stuff
the quality of mercy is
less stimulating than revenge
the quality of mercy is
no business of yours
the quality of mercy is
no concern of religious authorities
who should stay silent
the quality of mercy is
an outdated concept
the quality of mercy is
nothing to do with forgiveness
or circumstantial evidence
or the remission of sins
the quality of mercy is
no longer a matter of pride
the quality of mercy is
no longer a mark of humanity
the quality of mercy
would be OK if Obama said so
the quality of mercy
is one hell of a hot potato
cooked in oil
the quality of mercy
droppeth as the gentle
dew from heaven
upon a broken fuselage
and it is too much
or too little
for our understanding.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are Translating True Love In The Language That You Like
it is amazing
here you are translating the meaning of true in your own language.
i am amazed.
you love poetry after all? you still love
true love
i hear the cracks of your broken heart
i pretend it is nothing to me
i see how you bleed
your white shirt bloody
and your hands
cupping some drops of blood
from your bosom
i pretend i have not seen such a pitiful sight
i have my own broken hearts too
but you will never know that
you have contempt on my lost loves
because you never understand that true love can also be
more than what you expect
it can be more than one
it can be many
the way i love are like ten fingers
the caress of ten fingers
they move like a tribe of love
on the thighs of my beloved
on her breasts
how can i be so cruel living with just
a finger to love just one?
now i make a poem about true love
the one that uses so much of myself
to love not just one
but all
yes, do not be surprised
to love all of humanity and humanity
has not just one set of breasts and thighs
oh, there are hundreds of them
and from their milk a thousand children shall live
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Void
I've seen so many faces
These hands have lied before
I've kissed so many lips it's blocked my mind
I've whispered bullshit, nothings
I've cried alone in night
I thought I'd found the one a million times
But doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you in my heart?
And doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you?
I let a stranger love me
I gave away my pride
I bit my lips, so I could block my mind
I've called your name to others
Just like a spinal chord
Severed and broken but the spark still tries
And doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you in my heart?
Doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the noise?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you?
They don't know you like I do
They don't see the good inside you
They don't lie with you in bed and join you when you're dreaming
They don't see your softer side
Who'll be there to turn your light on?
Who will try to wash away the stain that love has left us?
Doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone kill the place of you in my heart?
Doesn't anyone bring the noise?
Doesn't anyone kill the joy?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you?
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ecstasy
A pink rose was set to strip
letting the leaves fall.
The roots were jealous of a thorn
for stealing the blood from heart.
It was the last page of a book,
no more commas, no full stop.
The dead tongue now seeks syntax
of the lips that smell like enemies.
Two hard little breasts start a dance
like geraniums on bush.
Between the shadows of thighs
slept the pride.
poem by Satish Verma
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Imaginary rape
Any woman, the observation worthy,
Be in T.V., movie or in person,
Never escape man’s rape in imagination.
He unwraps her breasts, surveys their shapes
And exposes her blush, kindling her lust.
He arrests her head, presses open her lips,
And betrays her shyness, burning her pulse.
He rips through her thighs, toss her up and down
And destroy her shame, wetting her mount.
He will feel he has conquered and raped.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Men Are From Mars
I was talking with Bukowski the other day,
Our minds met, concluding women need to know.
Two hot dogs and a beer is going out for dinnner.
Socks should never constitute an anniversary gift.
Men have an inate need to read in the bathroom.
Men really are sentimental. We just don't know how to tell you.
Size really doesn't matter.
Don't Burst their bubble.
Alcohol is really one of the four food groups.
Men look up to Colonel Sanders as an icon.
He loved thighs, legs, and breasts.
Beyond a funeral and a wedding we don't know how to dress.
If you want him to shop carry him to Victoria's Secret!
poem by Barry A. Lanier
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Plastic
She was a natural beauty
until they enhanced her,
put plastic in her,
fillers and tucks.
Now her lips are numb,
her breasts, lumpy,
her cheeks
puffy.
She was a pretty child,
now she's damaged,
doesn't go out
hides in the shadows.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Conceal to reveal
Breasts bare, breasts with bra,
Breasts revealing the cleavage,
Breasts under blouse with bare belly
And breasts with contour visible
Have their appeal up in that order.
The more one is left for imagination
The more the beauty will reveal.
06.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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