But They Can Never Be Mine
the face
the breasts and nipples
the abdomen
the smoothness of the skin
down to the last details
of the body
the middle and the bottom
the legs
and veins and toes and nails
all these dance before me
to my pleasure
i shut my mouth
i hold my hands and tell myself
oh how beautiful! (but)
they are not mine.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
She Is No Longer Innocent About The Ways Of The World
you think she is as fragile as a thin glass of cherry wine
that when you touch the tip with your finger
she blushes and the glass gets warmer with your thumb
its bottom at the mercy of your palm
you like to think that she is a flower blooming on the month of May
where the dews are as careful as the sap of the red melon
nothing that stains the skin and dirties the white linen
then you discover a lot of things
first, the way she uses the pillow putting it just bellow her buttocks
then the way she calls your name like the hush of the break of day's breeze
from the distant sea
mournful and yet so awakening to your senses
the way she puts her legs and spreads her arms to hold your body
she is like the full moon peeping over the window that you open
you let her in and she sleeps like a fantasy dream on your bed
every sense of you wakes up like there is a fire in the house
adrenalin rushes inside your thighs
you are undressed and in the naked truth you come to her
something unspeakable
unfathomed
giving you the freedom to plunge in the paradise
long denied by them for you
you found the map to her labyrinth of pleasure
and once there
you do not want to leave
this is your home
your niche where your hands thrive like the needles of grass
where you mind glows like the stars
alive and singing
this is pleasure immeasurable
her lips her breasts her arms her abdomen her eyes
her hands gripping your hands
her feet entwined like the vine to the pillar of your house
her soft voice her moans
the cock is crowing and by all means say hello to a very
nice morning
a new day to the first day of your life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Juliana....
on early morning
she walks down the river
leaving all her
coverings on the grass
she wades in the water
naked
as the bamboo trees
bend with the wind
paying homage to her
raw beauty
she plunges into the
cool waters of the river
and the river
takes joy of her body
then she rises
as water drips on her breasts
giving way to her
nipples
as the water cascades down
her abdomen
to her legs
Juliana, the mountain beauty
once i have seen her
under the moon amidst
the trees in the forest
and the virgin hills.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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I Shall Have These Hands That Shall Write About Hands....
must have i forgotten
from where all these come?
ah, i have read about your hands
and now i shall have to mind about mine
once i had these hands
whose name is
work and struggle and
sacrifice
they lifted rocks
outlined by Sisyphus
and roll them from
atop the hill
and put them again there
in senseless
labor
when i got reason
my hands began to think
as though they have brains
under their nails
these hands begin the
questions
grapple for answers
and got
no satisfaction
they dabble in poetry
trembling and tense and
looking for
a compromise for some
fetish
must have i forgotten from where
these hands come?
someone says these hands are from
the hands of God
whose hands hand what we do not have
in hand yet
these hands did what was wrong then
and covered the face of the
penitent and the remorseful
these hands that slap a face that
triggered a gunfire
that lay upon the hardened breasts
and held breaths
these hands that write now for you
face upside down not asking for anything in return
these hands that speak for you
as you turn your head for someone else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Women Sometimes
women sometimes
are a handful, a breastful,
a body beautiful,
you think they are so easy
to handle,
cutie pie, sweetie pie,
pity pie?
sure. they're a handful
of pretty pretty breastful
pretty, pretty petty bodies..
fondle, coddle, and
lots of doodles...
but oh, without them,
what will this world of mine be?
a desert. a dry pond.
a well without water.
drought the whole year round.
cracking lips.
labyrinths without an exit.
tunnels without light.
dogs without a master.
birds unfed and dead.
skulls without a skin.
bones without flesh.
blood without veins.
nails without fingers.
pen without a paper.
milk without water.
bed without blankets and pillows.
hands without fingers.
face without eyes.
and so on and so forth.
let me have them all
in my crowded room.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Own Kin
our own kin
name tags on my chest
genes in my flesh
our own skin
bearing our own family names
tattoos of our
marked existence as part of this
and that
roots
on our feet
and vines in our hands
wherever we go
we are us
our own kin our own skin
our identities as sons of these fathers
and mothers
as favorite grandsons
hope of the family tree
integrated
not grafts
but twigs and tendrils
despite our hatred
of the roots
we still are
leaves and
branches
how can we get away
from these that made us grow
into treetops
overlooking the mountains
of our lives
somehow there will be change
to norms
new laws for family ties
the right to take myself
from a name
to have my own house
inside my body
to get rid my veins of the
bad blood
to remove their nails
embedded on my toes
and fingers
somehow
know me as i am
and not a part
an extension of whom and
where
i have my on why you know
listen to me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mouth To Mouth
Your body grows more beautiful
With every move you make
Your body grows more beautiful
With every bite i take
You won't believe i love you
It's too stupid for words
So i lick your trembling lips
And use your hands to feed the birds
I laid with you for hours
Staring at your face
I laid with you for hours
Remembering your taste
And when the morning came
It splattered us in light
I think i left you sleeping there
I think i left you sleeping
Mouth to mouth - i asked you to stay
Mouth to mouth - but you're slipping away
Down seven stairs and first on the left
Arch your back and hold your breath
A million fat girls and a million fat man
Couldn't put me back together again.
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Monster
Her stench lingers in the air I bathe in
Her skin in my hands I can still feel
The taste of her, my tongue craves it
The sight of her gives my body chills
She's become the one thing that haunts me
My nightmares and dreams are now the same
In cold, cold sweats her memory taunts me
She is the monster I can't restrain
She's the one thing that really scares me
The thing that goes bump in the night
She consumes my senses and impairs me
As beautiful as she is, she's such a fright
I'm terrified of what she has planned
And of the things I would let her try
I have to face my fears and make a stand
I have to look the monster in the eye
Shake the terror and regain my senses
Just endure what horrors she may bring
Now there she stands as my body tenses
And with her touch there comes a sting
A painful pleasure now burns from within
And quickly my world fades to black
Come back to myself with lips on her skin
And her nails still in my back
Now her stench I want to breathe it
And her skin I can't wait to feel
The taste of her, my tongue needs it
And the sight of her still gives me chills
Now she's the monster I won't restrain
It is me that she is haunting
All my fears no longer remain
For this beautiful monster I am wanting
poem by Joseph A. Solis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Muscles
(michael jackson)
She said she wants a man
To always understand
But thats alright for her
Still it aint enough for me
She said she wants a guy
To keep her satisfied
But thats alright for her
But it aint enough for me
Still, I dont care if hes young or old
(just make him beautiful)
I just want someone I can hold on to
I want muscles
All, all over his body
(make him strong enough from his head down to his toes)
I want muscles
All, all over his body
(make him strong enough from his head down to his toes)
They say they have to see
His real personality
But thats alright for them
Still it aint enough for me
I need what the eyes can see, ah
(his anatomy)
If thats alright for them
Still it aint enough for me
I dont care if hes young or old
Just make him beautiful
I just want some strong man to hold on to
I want muscles
All, all over his body
(make him strong enough from his head down to his toes)
I want muscles
All over his body
(make him strong enough from his head down to his toes)
Muscle man, I want to love you
In person, I want your body
Come with me, hiding the cascades
Let this be, weve got this thing made
Lost at sea, hide the desert
Stay with me, you wont regret it
Take this love, so deep to swim in
Come to me, and let the love in
She said she wants a man
To always understand
But thats alright for her
Still it aint enough for me
I dont care if hes young or old
(just make him beautiful)
I just want someone I can hold on to
I want muscles
All, all over his body
(make him strong enough from his head down to his toes)
I want muscles
All over him, all over him
I want muscles
All, all over his body
I want muscles
I want all I can get
All over him, all over him
I want muscles, muscles, muscles
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovely One
Lovely one,
Just as on the cool stone
Of the spring, the water
Opens a wide flash of foam,
So is the smile of your face,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With delicate hands and slender feet
Like a silver pony,
Walking, flower of the world,
Thus I see you,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With a nest of copper entangled
On your head, a nest
The coloUr of dark honey
Where my heart burns and rests,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your eyes are too big for your face,
Your eyes are too big for the earth.
There are countries, there are rivers,
In your eyes,
My country is your eyes,
I walk through them,
They light the world
Through which I walk,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your breasts are like two loaves made
Of grainy earth and golden moon,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your waist,
My arm shaped it like a river when
It flowed a thousand years through your sweet body,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
There is nothing like your hips,
Perhaps earth has
In some hidden place
The curve and the fragrance of your body,
Perhaps in some place,
Lovely one.
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your voice, your skin, your nails,
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your being, your light, your shadow,
Lovely one,
All that is mine, lovely one,
All that is mine, my dear,
When you walk or rest,
When you sing or sleep,
When you suffer or dream,
Always,
When you are near or far,
Always,
You are mine, my lovely one,
Always.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Her Body Language is Possessive
Her body language is possessive,
as if the pleasure is aimed at herself
but still her passion is active
full of knowledge, pleasure and meaning
with the heat of her tongue, lips and mouth
that covers my whole body
everywhere over me
before she pulls me into her hot depths,
when I hear her breath quickening in passion,
when she stretches over me,
bending her body over mine
with her long hair covering my face
while she is flowering over me,
astounding me in long moments of pleasure.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In My Eyes
I hope that one day,
You'll come to realize
How perfect you look
When seen though my eyes
But if tomorrow, my life was to end
With so many of the fun thing left to do
It wouldn't matter at all
Because, of the times I have spent with you
So give me your body,
Your heart, mind, and soul.
And let's make sweet love together,
To make each other whole.
So Come and lie down here beside me,
And let me kiss your skin.
As my lips trace circles,
To leave a trail of wetness from where I have bin.
Let your breasts heave for the moment,
With your Nipples reaching so high
As my mouth and tongue caress them,
So your thoughts now
can begin to fly.
xxx
poem by George Albot
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So Beautiful
The way her lips poked out from her face, so beautiful
The way her hair laid across her face
Just those few strades of hair would do it
So beautiful
When her face wrenkle up when she's mad
Not all that beautiful but still
So beautiful
When she sit down how her legs chris-cross
Makes you wanna bit yo bottom lip
Making your lips whispper
Something like this...
She's So Beautiful
poem by Ardimus Caldwell
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How Delicious
how delicious can you get
when you get naked before me
how delirious can i get
when i touch your body
when i kiss your lips
when your hands hold my hair
when you lick my nipples
when you sleep with me
you give me wings to fly
and yet i stay beside you
on top of you
how blissful this moment
how ecstasy takes my soul
how short, how time can get too short
like my bending knees
like my grasp of you
like my sighs so incomplete
inside your breasts.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunjuice
What happens when the juice of the sun
drenches you
with its lemony tang, its tart sweetness
& your whole body stings with singing
so that your toes sing to your mouth
& your navel whistles to your breasts
& your breasts wave to everyone
as you walk down the summer street?
What will you do
when nothing will do
but to throw your arms around trees
& men
& greet every woman as sister
& to run naked in the spray of the fire hydrants
with children of assorted colors?
Will you cover your drenched skin
with woolen clothes?
Will you wear a diaper of herringbone tweed?
Will you piece together a shroud of figleaves
& lecture at the University
on the Lives of the Major Poets,
the History of Despair in Art?
poem by Erica Jong
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Caveman Head
Feel my body breathing in
Touch the softness of my skin...
I am very beautiful
I can be so beautiful...
I am very beautiful
I could be successful...
My hands are moving
My feet are tied
Watch the way my hair falls down
See the way my hair falls down
I am very beautiful
I can be so beautiful
Touch the softness of my skin
Feel my body breathing in
My hands are moving
My feet are tied
My eyes are closing
My mouth is wide
I will let you touch me
If you want to touch me
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Floating Poem
Whatever happens with us, your body
will haunt mine—tender, delicate
your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond
of the fiddlehead fern in forests
just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs
between which my whole face has come and come—
the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there—
the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth—
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I had been waiting years for you
in my rose-wet cave—whatever happens, this is.
poem by Adrienne Rich from Twenty-One Love Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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Wrestle Them Out
this is the puzzle of the wrestle.
no, it is not the mortar and pestle.
not the usual metric matter, but something
beyond what your eyes can see,
a fusion and diffusion of arms and legs,
muscles and cartilages, you look for
the abdomen hidden by an abdomen,
there are no mouths, strictly no tongues,
but there are lots of fingers and toenails.
whose face is that? it is twisted.
Whose mouth is that? it is twitching.
whose faces faces whom? Butts
and bottoms. Could be robert's?
Could be ric's? Two bodies wrestling
fate. The stars bet their light. The moon
is awed. The night gets darker.
No one wants to go home. Everyone
is watching the wrestle. All flesh.
The pressure builds like a muscle.
My neck is bound by an elbow.
The elbow is bound by the thigh.
There is prison and bars and rings.
Knobs. Locks. No keys.
We struggle to be free.
We hold and then we loosen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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