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Lust or love?

If it’s lust or love
nobody will ever know
and the night in front of the hot fireplace
I cannot forget easily
and still both are at times
part of what is in a relationship
between two people.

Strangely the lust eats me
were I stand almost naked
at the fireplace
and small john,
tries to stand just as upright
and big as big john.

There are flames from the fireplace
flashing in your eyes
when I take my underpants off
and your white face
is suddenly strangely pure,
while the inner fire
eats both of us
and the nipples of your big breasts
erect and prominent
almost magically draws my fingers.

Your mouth is hot,
soft and sweet
and your body
better to play with
that the strings of a guitar
and there are passion that abate in us
and when I disappear in your depths
there’s pleasure that at times
builds and subsides
and later we both
hit the right chord

poem by Gert Strydom
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Me And My Old Cat Sam

I sit here all alone well

Me and my old cat Sam

Rocking back and fro

As my

Chair squeaks

As I rock

In front of the old fireplace

Just me and my old cat
Sam

Knitting mittens

Singing while my cat sam takes
A nap

I’m growing old

Still alone

Me and my old cat Sam and my
Old rocking chair

As the fireplace is cracking while

The

Red blue flames seem to cracker
And pop

As it

Burn so happily it seem's

My chair squeaks my cat nod as I
Rock

In my rocking chair back and fro

Cheerfully in front of my old
Fireplace

With red and blue flames highlighting
The wall and ceilings

Me and my old cat Sam as he nod’s

I rock back and fro

While my rocking chair squeaks along
With the fireplace cracker and
Popping..

poem by Carolyn Sears
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Fantasy IV

Pounce of nipple
Snatches,
Catches me off guard

Flounce and ripple
Thro' the breasts
Arrests

Landing hard,
I'm flung upon my back
To analyse the ceiling -
No appealing under stress

Now under dress -
Panties gone
And she upon
My countenance -
I rouse to bait
Her feminine way

Lead astray by
Aromatic warming
Of her womanhood,
I tune her body's
Resonance
Thro' eloquence of tongue -

Her shrieking
Highly strung

We up the play

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sexual feedings

When eyes survey, when palms cup,
When mouth licks and when piston pumps
Man eats his lust from woman’s body.
Woman eats her lust being eaten by him.
28.12.2009

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Lust We Fought For

The lust we fought for in now just a pile of ash.
The lust we fought for was a lie to it's very last.
The lust we fought for burns in my memory every night.
The kust we fought for wasn't worth it's own right.
The lust we fought for seemed so out of control.
The lust we fought for only needed us to grab ahold.
So the lust we fought for wasn't lust at all.
Indeed it was love that made our great fall.
The lust we fought for keeps me crying at night.
The lust we fought for has me praying to turn it right.
The lust we fought for makes me miss you more.
The lust we fought for broke my heart to it's core.
The lust we fought for brings out a million tears.
The lust we fought for challenged all of my fears.
So the lust we fought for was the pain i deserved to face.
Indeed it was love from that magically beautiful place.
The lust we fought for is now gone up in flames...
Because I now know that the lust we fought for was real all the same.

poem by Erin Grantham
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Katy Brought My Guitar Back Today

Katy brought my guitar back today.
I left it there to play, when I'd stay over.
And I remember all those nights
Sitting in the fireplace light,
And how she loved to hear me play;
Katy brought my guitar back today.
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I've seen it make her cry, over and over.
She told me when I wasn't there,
And she would wake up feelin' scared,
She'd hold it in her arms and be okay;
Katy brought my guitar back today.
We had our stormy times like anybody else;
Oh, more than once I broke her heart.
And when I couldn't tell her I was sorry by myself;
I could tell her with an old guitar.
But, I'm afraid this time things have gone too far.
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I guess that means this time it's really over.
And as I sit and play it now,
The songs all seem so sad, somehow,
I wish that I'd of left it in the case
Katy brought my guitar back today.
And I remember all those nights
Sitting in the fireplace light,
And how she loved to hear me play;
Katy brought my guitar back today...

song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the bed she lies stretched out almost naked,

On the bed she lies stretched out almost naked,
in a transparent night-gown
with her breasts and large nipples
immediately drawing my attention,

her love triangle
with dark pubic hair shines through
when passion causes her
to rip the front buttons of my shirt off

that falls like raindrops
pattering on the wooden floor
when my body is hot against mine,
with my hands finding her soft supple breasts

with her lips smouldering on mine,
with her hand leading me to her boiling point
and we are both shivering
caught in moments of lust

while she has difficulty
to unbuckle my belt,
to zip it down
and we both melt into each other nakedly.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Feeling the Passion - Very Erotic you have been warned

Let me take you hold your body in my arms
Kissing those tender lips long and deep
Can you Feel my passion rise
Let us make love all through the night
Quickly decide, we must not waste a minute of time
Deftly remove all my clothes
Slowly I begin to caress your soft skin
My fingertips start to wander
Feeling the softness of you
Those tender breasts draw my fingers to them
Touching and stroking them
Covering your body with kisses
Over the curve of the breasts
Slowly reaching the nipples peak
Sucking with greedy abandon
The heat of our bodies rapidly rising
Breathing starts to increase
Panting harder wanting you now
Your body inviting
Moulding itself into mine
Thighs parted anticipating
Requesting my body’s presence
Obligingly I settle between them
Connecting to you
So slowly at first bodies moving in time
Reaching deeper into the depths of passion
Increasing the rate of heated attack
Faster rapier like movements
Lust consuming us both
Animalistic instincts taking over
Both wanting our own pleasure
Minds blocked to all other thoughts
Oh the passion
Faster we ride our primeval lust
Peaking explosively together
Tasted the essence of passion
Screaming my name in orgasm
Your body bucks with mine
We are as one, engulfed in each other

poem by Gordon D Wilkinson
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Putting in the seed

Your body is soft and hot
where you lie,
stretched out on the bed.

Every part of your body
draws my eyes
and somehow there’s more,
than just need and lust
that awakes between us.

Two mounts with tipped peaks
rise up and down
and respond to soft touch
and your neck is slender
and slim under my lips.

You shiver as I touch your ears
and something in your eyes
make my manhood raise
and your soft fingers
lingers magically over me.

A curling patch
with tuffs of black hair
draws my fingers,
down to the hot and soft intensity
of becoming part of you.

a Hallowed moment hangs
between us
and when I enter you
there’s magic,
that envelops me
and we twist and rise
and sway
and your cries and moans
drives me wild
and I feel you shudder
under me
and the seed frizzes out.

Moments drag on and on
and I am putting the seed
into fertile ground
and I hear you breathe
and feel your heart beat
as part of me
and I am yours
and your hair brushes
soft and tickling
over my cheek
and there’s sparks
deep down in your golden eyes
and somehow I can feel God
in the love between us.

poem by Gert Strydom
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My Only Memory Of You

Now you are gone
And I remember nothing from you-
Except for our nights filled with lust-
Filled with passion...
Perhaps all other memory has been swallowed into the emptiness-
From when our romance became a void-
Swallowing all sentiment...

I remember as I kissed you all over-
My breath ignited the fire,
Which lay dormant,
Inside your heart turned cold...

The silk of your naked skin,
Has burnt its mark-
As I gently caressed you all over
And I felt the fire's of your lust,
Drive me in my passion-
As your lust sought to overcome you-
With every electric charge I'd send through your body...

We would make love
And our flesh-
Our very beings would melt together,
In our flames-
Together we would dance
And sing-
In the silent depths of the night-
From dusk's twilight-
Till the light of sunrise...

For I while I could say that you were mine-
I once had you in my grasp-
My once beloved-
You were the most difficult to conquer-
I know that I loved you once-
Even when your love became lust-
But all that remains now,
Is the memory of when we were as one once-
My body on yours-
Together,
We merged in our flames once-
But fate tore us apart...

Now you are gone-
But those memories haunt me in my dreams-
Burnt into my subconscious-
Only in those moments I thought I felt your love-
Albeit it was only your lust-
You succumbed to your lust-
Steamy,
Violent silhouettes-
Breathless screams
And the sting of your nails on my skin-
The sheer bliss as we were consumed in the flames,
Of our desires-
Haunting me in my dreams...
I remember how once-
Only you could set me free-
Yet I remember nothing else-
Albeit I can say that I loved once
And I can say that I made love once...

poem by Philip Alarie
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My Love Is A Liquid

Can you see her little eyes?
Can you see her little hands?
Dont you think she looks just like me?
Can you hear her little scream?
Can you hear her little cry?
Dont you think she sounds just like me?
You have friends and we have reasons
I cant meet you face-to-face
There are no corners to hide in my room
No doors, no windows, no fireplace
My love is only for me
My love needs nobody else
Did you know that my love is a liquid?
I could talk to me for years
I cant speak to you at all
Did you know that friends come in boxes?
You have friends and we have reasons
I cant meet you face-to-face
There are no corners to hide in my room
No doors, no windows, no fireplace
Save your money buy a tube
Let your body flow inside
Watch it grow before your eyes
Watch it grow before your eyes
You have friends and we have reasons
I cant meet you face-to-face
There are no corners to hide in my room
No doors, no windows, no fireplace

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Really, I Am In A Bad Time Of My Life

but i am used to these bad times
you see
these happen most of the time, we get used to these
bad times
and after a while we are no longer
affected,
no longer ruled by these bad times
and we become numb like we are prepared for an operation
like the way how my gallbladder
was removed four years ago
and people
call me sweet and women taste me and say i am
sweet and i like it

the bitterness is gone now
and i am ready for something new something sweeter
come what may
i have open arms and interesting eyes that speak the language
of

yucks! lust.

do you want to taste this chunk of lust?
or a slice of happiness? they call it love,
endearment, but i like it
when it is simply called by its plain name
no euphemisms

lust, lust, lust, just lust, no heart
i want a heartless love affair
one that does not
hurt

let me share it with you, but first tell me

were you once bitter too?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's Name Is Love.....

Of all
elements

i love fire
and i keep it
everywhere

look at me
there is fire in my eyes

feel my hands
there is fire
growing in my fingers

lay your head
upon my shoulders
there will be
fire in your
hair

kiss my lips
you shall eat my fire
burning in there
continuously

put your body
above mine
you shall be
dry wood
of my fireplace
in winter

and i shall burn you
forever
and you shall
love it

for this fire
burns
but we shall never
be consumed
no one is charred
nothing is marred

there is no
ash
neither potash

let me name
this fire

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Its Name Is Love.....

Of all
elements

i love fire
and i keep it
everywhere

look at me
there is fire in my eyes

feel my hands
there is fire
growing in my fingers

lay your head
upon my shoulders
there will be
fire in your
hair

kiss my lips
you shall eat my fire
burning in there
continuously

put your body
above mine
you shall be
dry wood
of my fireplace
in winter

and i shall burn you
forever
and you shall
love it

for this fire
burns
but we shall never
be consumed
no one is charred
nothing is marred

there is no
ash
neither potash

let me name
this fire

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Job Description

(alan jackson)
Well I know sometimes you find it hard
To understand just what we do out here
Well that bus rolls up at home
And I just disappear
And I sure dont like to leave you
Couldnt stand for you to think that I dont care
So I wrote this job description
Just to tell you what I do when Im not there
I sleep eighty miles an hour
To the whining of a diesel down the interstate
Dreamin bout my little girls
The easy chair that sits beside the fireplace
Then we shut her down in another town
Shower up and do just what we came to do
Sing for the people
Count the money and the miles back home to you
Well each night I take the stage
With a six-piece band and a guitar in my hand
Singin songs about my life
All the good times and the bad
Then we say goodbye and we load it up
And head somewhere Ive already been
Then I lay down in that double bed alone
And I thank the lord again
I sleep eighty miles an hour
To the whining of a diesel down the interstate
Dreamin bout my little girls
The easy chair that sits beside the fireplace
Then we shut her down in another town
Shower up and do just what we came to do
Sing for the people
Count the money and the miles back home to you
Well I just sing for the people
Count the money and the miles back home to you

song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas (A Sestina)

Christmas is here, Jesus to the world brought peace
Everyone is rested as kids spend time with family
Kitchens are ablaze, wives creating good ol’ soul-food
Leslie and Destra, await their turn, under the mistletoe
Love is burning bright, outshining the fireplace
And playing kids fill the house with laughter

Worries are swept away, sadness replaced by laughter
As love flies through the air, enemies make peace
Whilst sweet carols are sung by the fireplace
We thank God for the greatest gift of family
As grandma and grandpa steal a kiss, under the mistletoe
My tummy just yelled: where is my soul-food?

Memories to the tongue, grandma’s special soul-food
Don’t know how, but to my tongue, it brings laughter.
Grandma and Grandpa are still under the mistletoe
Showing love so ancient, a picture of heaven’s peace
They are the beginning and measure of our family
Captured purely in pictures taken by the fireplace

Love bubbles deep within, and around the fireplace
As its oil fuses with the spice of Grandma’s soul-food.
Moriah, the youngest; four weeks added to the family
Her little eyes sparkle, her little face filled with laughter
Looking at her, so lovely, One is taken into peace
In times coming soon, her place would be the mistletoe

Her's would be lovely and her destiny the mistletoe
And she too, someday would have her own fireplace
As she grows to celebrate and cherish Christmas peace,
She would learn from Grandma, how to craft soul-food
Her kids would fill the house solely with laughter
As one day, she would have her a family

Fresh out the womb, Moriah completes the family
Even as Grandma and her boo are still by the mistletoe
Their love brings to the heart tears and laughter
Treasures of joy. Now we depart from the fireplace
To the table to dive into some soul-food
That the wives had made in love, and peace.

Thank God for family! Gazing at the fireplace
And the mistletoe, loving me some soul-food
That sets my tongue on laughter, I thank God for peace.

Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis

poem by Leslie Alexis
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Love, Lust; Passion

Love is a complicated word,
Love and Lust can be misunderstood,
Lust is Red, always hungry for more,
Love is white, and as pure as Angels wings,
Feeling both at the same time can be magical,
Emotions take over your hopeful body,
Your soul filling with Star Dust and Twilight wonders,

Lust can be ignored,
Love can be forgotton,
But together, they are a Need,

Love and Lust, ever feel it? Its known as passion,
If you have Passion,
You are very lucky,
I feel it, Love, Lust; Passion,
But he does not,
I am floating alone along my own Milky Way,
Hoping, praying, one day,
He will feel my Passion,
Hear my Heart,
And float eagerly along my way.

poem by Jodie Louise Pollock
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Sunday afternoon rest

The Kenwood plays
soft soothing instrumental music
and three dogs,
lies stretched out in front of the fireplace.

Tongs of fire lick hungry orange
on pieces of yellow and brown firewood,
while at the bottom
the coals are glowing red.

You paint a white Greek marble statue
of Aphrodite
and I see your painter’s pencil,
giving brush stroke upon brush stroke
of magic.

The afternoon drags on nicely
and red Barberton daisies,
on long green stems
hang out of a glass vase above the fireplace.

The dark painting
of the holy girl with the red garment
against the wall,
watch me amused
and the golden spaniel
sleeps with her head
on my lap.

I will forever
be able to enjoy
the pleasure,
of being with you.

a Hot cup of tea
steals me a kiss or two
and a DVD with the antics of Monk,
makes us laugh at dusk.

poem by Gert Strydom
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I miss you

Tonight I am alone again
and know how miserable separation is
and wish that we
could discover the heat of flames
in front of the fireplace
and only you and me could be in our own world.

Winter’s first cold fingers
is already here
and time flashes bye
and I miss you.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Love And Lust

Each shall have a room, as they are distinct
As love is blind, lust has eyes wide open for its games
As love is day, lust is the night at the bar
As love speaks the truth, lust can just lay silent looking for the tasty froth
Love need not be beautiful but lust makes it a requisite
Love may abstain, but lust cannot
By its nature it thrives in banquets

Love is pure but lust goes to mud in all wild wrestling for what it desires
I can love you without lust
But you may not like it after all
I love and lust you

And in you
Love and lust shall
Hold hands, kiss tight, hiss all the night
Love and lust
The two becoming one
To both of us

So this union may last
This communion of souls.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Completing All The Touches

Her pupil shone –
Black stole a peek

Her smile wore sleek
Beneath a knowingness
That I would seek
A slipping down of garments,
Jealous of their role
To hide the jewels that complement,
Completing all the touches.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

Lines of Lust

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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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