Pure Fairness
Fairest beauty by blotch of lust untouched
That shimmers like still lakes of early morn
And not a wave to stir upon is forged
Thus before her, randiness be forlorn
And all that beauty that does cover you
Ne'er shall lust brag thou wander in its cool
Nor a phallus disgrace thy glorious blue
Nor a dropp of red ooze from thy sealed pool
Let the soiled and coital maidens behold
Such pureness their bragging shall never own
Such flawless beauty to raunch unsold
Be ungraspable by their filthy own
Behold, sweet fairness unmarked, scenic and pure
Behold, her - to these lines the pristined muse,
She's the coax to lust - and a wasted lure
Behold! , sweet fairness by lust unused.
Soiled beauty and fair i do chastise thee
Sweet beauty untouched i panegyrize thee.
poem by Mbanaso Samuel
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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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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Beauty Beyond Belief!
Behold the beauty of her face, the twinkles in her eyes,
Her smile, her style, her noble grace, her countenance so wise.
Behold the beauty of her hair cascading left and right,
The way it shines beyond compare, so debonair and bright.
Behold the beauty of her lips like effervescent wine
And how genteel the lady sips when she decides to dine.
Behold the beauty of her neck, the pendants that she wears,
The choicest gems we're meant to check as she attracts our stares.
Behold the beauty of her form that stands out from the crowd...
Defiantly beyond the norm, she holds her head up proud...
For she's no timid little miss content that she's called cute...
For she's aware of all she is and seeks to stay astute.
In this old world, where youth excels, opportunity knocks...
It has been said that beauty sells as fast as diamond rocks.
To me, she's sweet, as good as gold, as fine as filigree.
When God made her, He broke the mould, for she's a sight to see...
From head-to-toe, beauty above and beauty underneath...
She's the reason I fell in love... Beauty beyond belief!
poem by Denis Martindale
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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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Talons of a Gothic Mind
She of talons, borne from gothic mind-
Steel of blue her chilly stare,
Pitch of black her fetid blood-
Whence there came an evil flare
To terrorise the weeping kind
Befogged in mental mire; to rape
The shore with phallic waves -
And all for lust, her one desire:
Corrupt the sand of innocence
Without a case for penitence,
Or cause for such as reticence -
While coming on her priapismic fire.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Behold, I adore beauty
Beauty is warm and cold
Beauty is black and bold
Beauty is different for us all I am told
Beauty I would love a chance to mould
Beauty gives the finest pleasure I am told
Beauty can be bought and sold
To the one and only highest bidder
While it graciously glitters like gold
I adore beauty
Oh! How I adore beauty with a passion
I adore beauty with every last breath
Beauty itself is not exempt
From the laws of birth and death
It experiences the joys of being young and old
Blossoming each day in early youth
Maturing adoringly each day with age
Behold, I adore beauty
Oh! How I adore beauty with a passion
Beauty is something I would like to hold
Where there is too much ugly
I can bring it out of a drawer and unfold
Spread it around the entire household
Without worrying about getting a scold
Behold, I adore beauty
Oh! How I adore beauty
When out on a nightie
Quite hungry and thirsty
And you drink the last drops of milk
From a beautiful chest that is busty
I would say, that itself is a faculty of beauty
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Beauty, Beauty
Beauty, beauty in the light. Beauty, Beauty falling through. How sweet must beauty, beauty be. Beauty, beauty how it's happy. Beauty, beauty in the sky and in the grass. Beauty, beauty in the trees. Beauty, beauty on the ground. Beauty, beauty crawling on the ground. Beauty, beauty always climbing. Beauty, beauty that we are sirrounded by.
poem by Shania K. Younce
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From "Vashti"
WHAT thing shall be held up to woman's beauty?
Where are the bounds of it? Yea, what is all
The world, but an awning scaffolded amid
The waste perilous Eternity, to lodge
This Heaven-wander'd princess, woman's beauty?
The East and West kneel down to thee, the North
And South; and all for thee their shoulders bear
The load of fourfold space. As yellow morn
Runs on the slippery waves of the spread sea,
Thy feet are on the griefs and joys of men
That sheen to be thy causey. Out of tears
Indeed, and blitheness, murder and lust and love,
Whatever has been passionate in clay,
Thy flesh was tempered. Behold in thy body
The yearnings of all men measured and told,
Insatiate endless agonies of desire
Given thy flesh, the meaning of thy shape!
What beauty is there, but thou makest it?
How is earth good to look on, woods and fields,
The season's garden, and the courageous hills,
All this green raft of earth moored in the seas?
The manner of the sun to ride the air,
The stars God has imagined for the night?
What's this behind them, that we cannot near,
Secret still on the point of being blabbed,
The ghost in the world that flies from being named?
Where do they get their beauty from, all these?
They do but glaze a lantern lit for man,
And woman's beauty is the flame therein.
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
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Witch
Eyes, rivulets of red that run beneath a canopy
Of green-tinged lashes –
Tear blood playing on the grey-white skin,
Stretched across the twin peaks of cheekbone.
That slender pillar of a neck –
Magnet of eroticism, blinds to
Veins gorging on the flesh,
Dancing under pulse of blood –
Or whatever pumps inside.
Coal-black lips word intentions –
Castigations – variations of the horror
She was born to be.
O the hair! – a flame-orange avalanche
Thundering down to Hell
Where seething mounds of torn bodies lost their souls
To viler wants and fouler holes of
Scatological minds.
And the plunge of lavish breast –
E’er the siren’s weapon! –
Baits the mortal man –
Were he to chance his hand across
The certainty of doom.
But still we go, our weakness on display –
Hers will not a challenge be to see to our decay.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Under lust rain
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Mother of Beauty and Love
Through thine heart, and times portal,
Thine give me truth and love immortal
No love, if there is love, is like thee
Sometimes I ponder if love is what thou be?
Or if love we did know before was just a charade
A propriety, a clandestine façade
To satiate sinister lust
That infects us…
For when thy walk, thou dance to me
And when thou talk, thou words paint
In my sweet soul of loves immortality
The contours of thy body which hide in my souls eye
thine beauty, mine sadness… should thy beauty die
And thy beauteous soul leave like an autumn tree
All its beauty for my heart to see…
I write this poem to immortality
the mother of love of beauty!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Sonnet 106: When in the chronicle of wasted time
When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they looked but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing.
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Beautiful One
Oh beautiful one, adorned with spell
To ravage my world as might a sweet angel.
Oh beautiful thing, so much at ease:
Allure of caressing breeze in touch gentle.
Oh beautiful creature, sail me do,
As floating on seas of halcyon blue tincture.
You beautiful being, gracing charm
And features that render feel of deep texture.
Your beautiful poise in glide supreme,
Gives such like a vista honed as from heaven.
That beautiful art of face ornate,
Not ever to understate or be riven.
Your beautiful flame of pulchritude
Doth dizzy me high, so I conclude always
You beautiful girl forever be
My shining Janette; my guide; my stairway.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Of This You Can Be Sure
The summer sun rises over the hills,
With a beauty and certain grace,
But it cannot compete with the beauty of you,
Or the beauty of your face.
The falling snow in wintertime,
Makes everything look so new,
But it cannot compare with the beauty,
The beauty that is you.
The birds in springtime sing their song,
So sweetly and so pure,
But they cannot compare with your sweet words,
Of this you can be sure.
The colorful leaves on autumn trees,
All covered with morning dew,
May be glorious in their beauty,
But are nothing compared to you.
All the wonders on this fine earth,
And the glory of up above,
Are nothing compared to your sweet charms,
Or the beauty of your love.
12-18-09.
poem by Alan W. Jankowski
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What Do I Know About Beauty?
What do I know about beauty?
said the bum
I don't see beauty where I come from.
I've been lookin'
all over the place
but I can't see it,
not even a trace.
Is it beauty when you're poor?
Then don't give me anymore.
Is it beauty when you're cold?
Then it's beauty I behold.
Is it beauty when you're in pain?
Then take it back. Don't let it remain.
My beauty was taken from me
the minute I turned age three.
My mama died.
My Papa cried.
My Papa died
and then I cried.
What do I know about beauty?
cried the bum.
It must be around
'cause I hear children hum
as they pass me by
on the bench where I lie.
I wonder when I lie and see the sky
if that's where it is?
Then let me die.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Your Beauty
There goes the the marubic one,
So perfect like a cherubic pure stone,
Realising the ability in her strength,
A smile she displays all day long,
So noble, she is a woman of virtue,
Who is her man? The world asks,
Such gift he posseses they adorn
Beauty management, whats her story
She walks past the dusty streets,
Yet her beauty the dust it resists,
What ointment does she use,
Her face the embodiment of beauty,
So perfect and glorious to them,
Them that appreciate beauty and virtue,
Is it her fine art that flourish her beauty,
Or maybe the wonders of the creator,
Such beauty I never saw,
Such smile the world longs to see
Perfect and ultimately flawless
Beauty is an under statement we know,
What words shall I then use,
Copacetic, a woman with boldness,
Let the man look and ponder,
To look behold and wonder,
Such perfection we never saw,
Such a smile, a flawless act
Your eyes so round and shiny,
Stare at me, yes I will smile
Your lips so soft and ever juicy,
Kiss me and I wont run away
Like the clouds, your whitey teeth shine
Arranged like the stones of the great wall
So consistant and ever oderly,
Your beauty, so magnificent
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Beauty Also Is Not Beautiful
The beauty of a grave
Beneath maggot reigning
The beauty of the brave
oh! Hills of self depending
The beauty of a lady
Men large lake of lust
Where their homes fell in melancholy
The beauty of being trust
Reverse opposite in character
The beauty of being on throne
Manager with great damager
Disease in masses back-bone
The beauty of being loyal to one's land
All in peace but treason during pieces
O the beauty of the world
Earth of ocean of damages
Beauty also not beautiful
But my rhyme is meaningful.
poem by Adesitimi Taiwo
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Fairest
thou art the fairest of all
thou art my beauty at the mall
thy picture always painted on the wall
thy beauty is always as i might recall
thy beauty shant fade away
all thy sad tears i've swiped away
all thy beauty are not for play
for every beauty is not for waste
thy beautifull smile so heavenly
always every beaty shops landlady
thou art qualified as milady
always fair always thy heart fairy
thou art my favourite episode
your black beauty describes my ode
always lovely when thou art in the mood
thy ancient beauty never growing old
thou art my fairest
thy smell of thy perfume the loveliest.
poem by Umoh Cyril
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Beauty Of Silence
The beauty of silence is,
When there are no mistakes
The beauty of silence is,
When there is no time to hate
The beauty of silence is,
When there is nothing to explain
The beauty of silence is,
When there is no time to diminish in pain
Lust for every love
Dreams of entire reverie
Beget the pins & pains
Of lies in the stygian of mind
The beauty of silence is, when there's no one to divulge.
The beauty of silence is, when we see in divergent views.
The beauty of silence is, when there's only you.
poem by Amir Amzah
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Search Party
You touched my tongue
With yours - blending buds,
Kindling minds, racing worlds,
Unifying two lovers - one body.
Tongues wrestled violently,
Fluidly, in fluid -
Juice flowed, fluidity rousing -
Endorphin storms erupted;
Hearts raged, blood gorged
Cock, clit, tit.
Search-party hands
- desperate -
Found their feelings,
Feeling up, squeezing, sliding,
Rubbing, working, fingers fiddling.
Lungs breathed - sighing, rushing,
Panting, huffing, heaving
- ciliated turmoil.
Hearts worked harder,
Forcing blood torrents;
Whirlpool minds raced,
Blinded, careless, caring, daring.
Clothes faded, cast out - jetsam.
Skin flesh moulded, melded -
Oh to split! for
Inner flesh wanted in.
Pulses pounded,
Rounded mounds flirted nipples
At the lips;
Phallus begging, forcing, pushing,
Pushed;
Ripples crossing skin dunes
Under shudders:
The Quake of Coming - coming -
Came.
We came.
We found.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Beauty is
The beauty beheld is alive.
Beauty hiding is of the soul.
Beauty freed is love.
Beauty seen is beauty in control.
Beauty is the passion of the heart.
Beauty causes order divine.
Beauty is seen in all the great.
Beauty is the lure of nature's design.
poem by Josh Alfred
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Amathalal
Love for sale and lust for anybody who is with money,
But where is the venture of fairness on this case?
For i am Amathalal and i really need true love from you.
My love is not for sale and i am not in for lust,
For the birds have thought me how to fly;
And i will be there for you only with my true love.
Of the letters and of the calls for my beauty,
But a man has just given his wife the second beatings!
And like your E-Mail i just received,
Fo there are some people somewhere without love.
Eve was not sold to Adam but,
She was part of him;
That is why my love is not for sale!
For i need true love than all the lust i do see around me.
I want to be like the 'Little China' in your hands,
And like a matching song without words;
Because i have prepared my true love for you only,
And i will want to see you respond to my taste.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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