Smut
Smut!
Isn't that what you want?
But you wish to be discreet about it.
You don't want it like the others...
Those who take and keep it.
And parade it while they flaunt.
You like your smut in secret.
In sighs you'd rather moan,
Stroking under sneaky sheets!
And not doing that alone.
You like your smut...
Down low and dirty.
Wishing to keep this your private treat!
That's understood.
But pretending you're self righteous about it.
Does no one any good.
Because when it is banned...
You'll be the first thirsting.
And taking matters into your own hands!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Smut, if it's really smut, there's nothing backing it up. It's the easy way out.
quote by Sandra Bernhard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Senses
Closed eyes too can see
Visuals on heart-easel
Tight lips too can speak
In eloquence expressive silence
Deaf ears too can hear
Thundering miseries all around
Searching senses work
even when locked
Hungry are they; for truth
Eager are they; to revolt
Sans smut and rust
They know their worth
(This poem is about oppression. Oppressors think they are perpetrating their evils without anyone's knowledge. But there are searching senses around, that are sans smut & rust, which are live to their surroundings even when shut and ready to revolt)
poem by Sathya Narayana
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When I get smitten, I stay smut.
quote by Charlie McCarthy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Politics is my hobby. Smut is my vocation.
quote by Larry Flynt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Violence and smut are of course everywhere on the airwaves. You cannot turn on your television without seeing them, although sometimes you have to hunt around.
quote by Dave Barry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Getting Bodacious and Less Discreet
The guys lay in secret with misters.
Laying discreeted doing dirty deeds.
Some downlow on hands and knees,
And all bugged out with plugged up mouths.
The guys lay in secret with misters.
None denying they've come out of the closet.
Few denying they now cruise on the streets.
The guys lay in secret with misters.
Some are married and some are not.
Some just started and they like it a lot.
The guys lay in secret with misters.
It may be caused by the economy.
With some feeling weakened,
With effeminate needs.
And some feeling weakened,
With a need to please.
The guys lay in secret with misters.
None denying they've come out of the closet.
Few denying they now cruise on the streets.
The guys lay in secret with misters.
Some are married and some are not.
Some just started and they like it a lot.
The guys lay in secret with misters.
Laying discreeted doing dirty deeds.
Some downlow on hands and knees,
And all bugged out with plugged up mouths.
You know the guys lay in secret with misters.
And getting bodacious and less discreet.
Getting bodacious and less discreet.
You know the guys lay in secret with misters.
And getting bodacious and less discreet.
Getting bodacious and less discreet.
You know the guys lay in secret with misters.
And getting bodacious and less discreet.
Getting bodacious and less discreet.
You know the guys lay in secret with misters.
And getting bodacious and less discreet.
Getting bodacious and less discreet.
You know the guys lay in secret with misters.
And getting bodacious and less discreet.
Getting bodacious and less discreet.
And getting bodacious and less discreet.
Getting bodacious and less discreet.
They're getting bodacious and less discreet.
Getting bodacious and less discreet.
The guys lay in secret with misters.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prometheus? Mon Frere? ?
Why you think of reversing the wheels
when life has stopped moving?
The time has fled from your hands
and settled on the body of death.
You are not intact and whole inside.
Where the path betrayed us?
Broken windows let in the dirt, smut and
heat.
The winter will be harsh, barren and cold
One by one swallows have departed.
The pain in neck does not go
an astringent blast overpowers
you become giddy, stagger for a while
and then become blind.
Your tragedy is mine, we suffer
for the sake of light.
poem by Satish Verma
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Biscuits For Smut
Served up in the backyard
Cooked too long on high
Flying out the window
Even dogs have passed them by
Didnt know she was tied up
Better fed than forced
Time to meet the protagonist, boy
He never showed remorse
Choking on the one thing
His tongue had gotten too fat
A barely walking dead man
Seemed to know where he was at
Drive himself to the airport
Getting out of here
Overworking the small town
The law couldnt get too near
Come on smut
You mightve stayed
song performed by by Helmet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where God Is
One doesn't have to look very far...
Away from the smut and the war...
Just set your eyes toward the heavens-
And you will find what you are looking for;
Or try calling to Him during your darkest night...
When your whole world seems to have come crashing down...
He will be right there next to you...
Securing you from the lost-to the found;
He 'tis your most loving Father this is so true-
Who resides near always to you...
So the next time you catch yourself wondering...
Where is He...just look to the heavens clear view;
Or perhaps just look over your shoulder...
Call His name in joyful yet needful prayer-
He will be there right next to you...
Complete with His most tender and loving care! ;
May 5,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Dirty Sheets, and Secrets
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not to meant to keep.
Violence has no restraints.
A bruise with no complaint.
Women quite quaint.
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
Infidelity, a double cheat has his reasons indeed.
Never quite complete full of envy.
Theirs a tell tale sign jealousy.
He want nothing to do with you.
How many clues, how many?
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
Keep the habit with such evil deeds.
Stealing the sun to buy the moon is just another impossibility.
He says he can't help it,
it taste and feels so sweet.
He has received the treatment.
What good did it do. How many clues, how many.
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
Still you protect him, protect him.
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Angel Sent to Me
I met an angel when looking for a car
I didn't know it at the time
I just saw him from afar
but when he turned up at all the spots
that I was looking through
something made me walk right up and
say how do you do.
He said he was looking for a car
that we'd both seen all we could
He said the places we were in
had nothing any good
so I did something I've never done
I offered him a ride
to the city and bigger yards
where cars stood side by side
We found a yard with a perfect car
just right for my angel man
I found one too but had no money
and asked for a payment plan
The dealer smiled sleazily
smut was on his mind
He looked at me and winked his eye
and said 'your friend is kind'
He handed me the bunch of keys
to my chosen little car
I said hey I just can't pay
he said 'well here you are'
The man who had just driven with me
had left the place before
The dealer said he'd paid for my car
and there was nothing more
I signed the papers and drove away
in my new expensive gift
I've never seen the man again
who paid me for a lift
Now until this day I wonder,
was he really sent to me
was he an angel from above
poem by Janice M Pickett
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Mistrust of Sex.
Ginny had a mistrust of sex,
It led into dark corners
she didn’t want to recall,
didn’t want to explore,
didn’t want to know.
Mother’d just died,
Father was too cut up
to notice the fingering and pokering
in shadowy places
out of sight of others.
Her husband tried,
years later,
in a gentle manner,
to open her up
to the joys of sex,
but she closed him up
and shut him down,
after kissing moved on
to touches and holding
and physical smut.
Ginny wished Mother’d been there,
hadn’t gone off with death,
hadn’t left her alone
with the bogeyman in the dark,
who touched her
and fingered her
just for a laugh and lark.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Promise to Keep This Secret
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
Why would somebody have an elicit affair?
With a promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
And do it while sneaking around,
In the clear open air?
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A friend can be a friend to another,
Until the end.
But a friend can not be trusted,
When a cheating begins.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
And a friend can't be expected to defend a friend.
When that friend is also 'friend',
To those who swap and cheat on spouses...
Of,
Other friends!
Oh.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
When those swapping spouses sneak from houses,
Living just next door???
Keeping this a secret is a hard job.
When those swapping spouses sneak from houses...
Living just next door???
Keeping this discreet is just too hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Publicly You Treat Me Evil
You don't have to be,
Pleasing and sweet.
But publicly...
You treat me evil.
In private you are so adored.
And I am sure...
You-are-my-equal.
But on the streets,
You then deceive.
You have a need,
To treat me evil.
Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.
Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.
But publicly,
You treat me evil.
People see,
You treat me evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
To be evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.
But...
Pub licly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Treat me evil!
But...
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Treat me evil!
TREAT ME EVIL.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I’m Pretending
I’m pretending nothing happened,
that we are still together.
I’m pretending you never
went away with someone new.
I’m pretending we are still a couple,
that you are still nearby.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.
I’m pretending that our love
still shines brightly.
I’m pretending that you still care
and lying to myself each day.
I’m pretending that you just stepped out
and that you are not far away.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.
I’m pretending it always summer
and that winter never comes.
I’m pretending life is as it was
and I’m forever with you.
I’m pretending you are with me
and not in the arms of someone new.
I’m pretending that I am smiling
and that I’m not feeling blue.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.
20 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Dirty Little Secret
Let me know that I've done wrong
When I've known this all along
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you
Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Who has to know
When we live such fragile lives
It's the best way we survive
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you
Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Who has to know
The way she feels inside (inside)
Those thoughts I can't deny (deny)
These sleeping dogs won't lie (won't lie)
And now I try to lie
It's eating me apart
Trace this life out
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret)
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Dirty little secret
Dirty little secret
Who has to know
Who has to know
song performed by by All American Rejects
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America In 1804
(America Conquers Europe.)
Foul shapes that hate the day, again grown bold,
Late driven hence, infested fane and court.
The laurels of our victory were amort.
Vile King-craft with his breed of blood and gold
Took heart to see the ancient wrongs infold
Our life, and childish figments which disport
I' that pale light whose essence mayn't support
Realities, in Freedom's hall to hold
Sick carnival did troop. But at the height
Of that debauch, while yet could be erased
The smut and spittle from the sacred chart,
Written in blood --a man whose soul gave light
Intolerable to kings, their power abased,
As he subdued the empire of the heart.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Purple Heart and the Bagdad Five
Broken hearts when you went away
Serve government and God they say
Deploy to where they need control
Weekly recon; daily patrol
Way too much down time, to hang out,
Barrack’s, trailers or where’s about
War-play videos or read smut,
Text your baby 'one-liner' hug
Loneliness factor to this game
Then flash, a bang, blackness and pain
Just outside a missal explodes
Shrapnel and rocks unleashed payload
Rippled effect plows, through it all
'What just happened, I don’t recall.”
Legs got ripped and blood did flow
Rattled, undefined, kind of slow
Specialist here, the doctor knows
The head aches pound and do not go
Blurry, fuzzy, walk like a clod
Simple concussion note in log
“Heroes here for doing your part,
Service help, and a Purple Heart.'
Remember precedence they say
Purple hearts not ‘Kerry’ away
Best treat it quick before harm done
No token heart, help doesn't come
Bagdad Five were hurt that day
Lawsuit is pending so they say
Pat on the back, then redeployed
How many out there, half destroyed?
Half-witted soldiers with a gun
Purple Hearts broken all undone.
poem by P.A. Donohue
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The train now standing at platform 2
The train now standing at platform 2 is empty now,
its windows still fogged by smut and smog
that lapped the sides for the time of its reign.
Its seats depressed by ghostly bottoms of long ago,
that sat, expectantly on their way through.
They're essence fills the very air we breathe.
Now the train holds no one, no laughter, no chatter.
It just sits on a mocked up platform at York Museum
to amuse tourists, those eager, bright eyed, faces.
It holds tightly to memories, its past, those well kept secrets,
somehow wanting, so much, to tell all it has seen.
Its driver, with blackened fingers and grubby face
no longer steers its mighty coaches along a well used track,
but his presence is sensed by all that walk _
through the 10.15……
stopping at quaint villages
seaside towns, lovers trysts,
new homes and all stations to destiny.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Fantasy Pimp
Online quietly with a fantasy pimp!
The children are asleep and the spouse
On another business stint!
Naked and feeling sensual,
With no sense at all...it seems!
These lonely PC seduced smut pushers...
Bare their souls,
For a cyber sex scene!
Text messaging their 'do's and 'dont's
With choice fonts in 'Arial' at 10 point print,
The fantasy pimp captivates and pleasures
In this chatroom where just screen names are known...
In 'Big Sticks With Feathers'
Sharing downloads of shared 'visions' breathlessly shown.
And the sex is quite sleazy.
Making it easy to masturbate a thick and stiff bone!
In the comfort of one's home alone.
Watching 'Big Sticks With Feathers' teaches as one sits...
A few tricks to use when the spouse returns,
And the desire not to forget none of the penetrating grips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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