Be a bud anew
She stands over there a widow,
Aloof, like a barren meadow,
Having lost her stand and beauty,
And is flung to melancholy.
With the loss of solid mountain,
Went away the placid fountain,
Leaving abrupt her cup empty
Of love and sweet, once aplenty.
Her presence is now a bad omen.
Her sari, the rainbow, turned white.
She went graceless lest she must excite.
Is she lust-less, to be sexless?
Ere wedding, was there she alone;
Even now, as a widow, she’s alone.
Once a solitary mansion,
Now she is a lonely grave.
She is set to lament and mourn
Ever-long, without a happy end,
Though in no way can it lighten
The loss of her pair. Why, then, to pretend?
Which widow, save corrupt one, unwept
Over the fate to which she was put,
With choked lust having no outlet,
Other than duress she went through?
Youth in prime, charm is still unshed.
Lust to brim, thirst is still unfed.
Hard would be she to stay the wicked
Were she destined to never re-wed.
Women’s eyes upon her conduct,
Men’s spicy eyes upon her neglects,
If she is to rebel, men will spurn;
If she is to yield, men will ride.
There comes spring to trees, when leaf-less.
Also comes monsoon to grass, when list-less.
None comes to her, who went mate-less,
And was thrown an orphan, name-less.
When a pot is lost another is bought.
When a hut is lost one more is built.
While a mate is lost no one is sought
To tender her lust, otherwise a beast.
A widow is not a left-over,
As a poem read is not leftover.
A portrait is fresh to everyone.
A mother’s breast is alike to her next child.
She is unlike the one as had deserted
Her husband, as furtively flirted,
Or as had her child by him fostered:
A lived villa, not a spit apple.
Over years virgins married widowers.
Without tears they lived in fervour.
For her cheers, let her get the same favour
from a man of choice to restore her flavour.
No animals keep their spouses in widowhood.
Why is, then, this invention on womanhood?
She better be sanctified before having erred
So that she could lead a life, unblurred.
Let her wed, anew,
‘as though a rose shut
and be a bud, again’
11.11.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lust, Lust, Lust
He lusts for her
Her apple breasts
Beneath her vest
Taste the best
Lust, Lust, Lust
Three women on the go
Yet happiness does not flow
It is only
Lust, Lust, Lust
Her apple breasts
Beneath her vest
Taste the best
The natural flow of wetness
He hopes to taste once more
Maybe its vanilla flavor
Will be one better than before
Lust, Lust, Lust
Lost in focus
Lost in defense
Can’t do his job
Till he scores once more
Now humble, no longer hardcore
Only suffering from lust hangover
Her apple breast
Beneath her vest
Has just put him to the test
The sweet fluid of sex
Displaying something complex
Lust, Lust, Lust
Save him
He is an emotional wreck
For he still lusts after his Ex!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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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
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Widow of Massacre
Some said she lost,
None said she crossed,
Nothing was known clear
Something about her was fear.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
If asked, she never say,
because witness you can pay,
She lost hee husband,
Then lost her hand.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
Behind her, there're stories,
Behind stories, there's worries,
Her village was ambushed,
And in bullets, washed.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
She survived the claws of wild,
After death of her single child,
Finally she ran to this village,
Where we paid her homage.
Everything, though said
She's a widow of massacre.
poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester
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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
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
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
Lust lust lust Lust lust lust Lust lust lust
Lust lust lust Lust lust lust Lust lust lust
Lust lust lust Lust lust lust Lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The young widow
Not an apple, stolen and bitten,
Not the wine, sore and spit,
But a Villa, just lived in
And emptied is a widow
She is a refined Villa,
Hence a refined virgin.
A widow is much renowned.
26.05.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Infusion
Lost. Lost. Lost in confusion
Lust lust the glove of illusion
Save a soul for now it’s sold as love is mere infusion
The wrong song has a place
Instrumental in its bow
Her lips give off a given taste
Incessant shows me how
A wink, I think of hidden lace
Theatre in her show
To drink away would only waste
The bond we fight to grow
Lost. Lost. Lost in confusion
Lust lust the glove of illusion
Save a soul for now it’s sold as love is mere infusion
A merry go of fast and slow
Leaves upon the ground
Hurry now for we know how
A beating heart must sound
Terror of a love we lost
Remain so pleased we found
Hurried through at such a cost
lies cheap to any pound
Lost. Lost. Lost in confusion
Lust lust the glove of illusion
Save a soul for now it’s sold as love is mere infusion
poem by Mark Richardson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lust For Life (feat. The Pretenders)
Words and music by David Bowie and James Osterberg
(Lust for life x 3)
Here comes Johnny in again
With liquor and drugs
And a flash machine
Hes gonna do another strip tease
Ah, hey man, whered ya get that lotion?
Ive been hurting since I bought the gimmick
About something called love
Yeah, something called love
Well, thats like hypnotising chickens
Im just a modern guy
Huh, of course, Ive had it in the ear before
I have a lust for life
Cause Ive a lust for life
Lust for life (ooh)
Lust for life
Lust for life
Im worth a million in prizes
With my torture film
Drive a GTO
I wear a uniform
On a government loan
Im worth a million in prizes
Yeah, Im through with sleeping on the sidewalk
No more beating my brains
No more beating my brains
With liquor and drugs
With liquor and drugs
Ooh, Im just a modern guy
Huh, of course, Ive had it in the ear before
And Ive a lust for life (lust for life)
Cause Ive a lust for life (lust for life)
A lust for life (ooh)
A lust for life
Lust for life (ooh)
I got a lust for life
Lust for life (ooh)
Ah a lust for life
Lust for life (ooh)
Lust for life
Lust for life
Im just a modern guy
Huh, of course, Ive had it in the ear before
And Ive a lust for life (lust for life)
Cause Ive a lust for life (lust for life)
A lust for life (ooh)
Lust for life
Lust for life (ooh)
Lust for life
Lust for life (ooh)
I got a lust for life
Lust for life (ooh)
I got a lust for life
A lust for life
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Widow
I just love my nightmares
I cant wait to sleep
Enjoying all my dreams
Got no regrets
I can be a flash of lightning
Striking down on rocks
Burning down the law
Getting things I never got
Turning the world
Nothing unheard
One night can be more than a day
Just like a black widow
Like a black widow
I cant stand the dreamers
Scared of things that fly
They just have sweet fantasies
And fade and die
Nightmares - are so good, so good
And they always end just when they should
Nightmares are cool, nightmares are cruel
I love the fun and the thrill
Just like a black widow
Like a black widow
Black widow
Just like a black widow
Here comes the morning
And who can deny
Leaving the dream is so hard
I love my nightmares
I await their return
And this time, Im dressed to kill, dressed to kill
Just like a black widow............
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lust...
Lust destroyed my love
Lust pushed away my one
Lust made me weak
Lust took the one love
Lust killed my happiness
Lust is a sin I committed
Lust, I shouldn't had done
Lust got my suffocating
Lust made light turn into darkness
Lust made me miss my wife
Lust, my innocent girl is hurt
Lust I hurt myself too
Lust I miss my family I built
Lust, you were my biggest mistake....
poem by Joy O'Pateng
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The glory of lust
‘Lust, Lust. It’s worst’
Many burst.
Lust is not a ghost,
Nor a devil, nor a peril.
The tender grass on a rocky patch
Is tender to taste for the toothless
Cow, old enough to die.
It is lust. Who can hate.
‘Lust, Lust, It’s the best’
All murmur in secret.
01.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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If I Ever Marry, I'll Marry A Maid
If ever I marry, I'll marry a maid;
To marry a widow, I am sore afraid:
For maids they are simple, and never will grutch,
But widows full oft, as they say, know too much.
A maid is so sweet, and so gentle of kind,
That a maid is the wife I will choose to my mind
A widow is froward, and never will yield;
Or if such there be, you will meet them but seeld.
A maid ne'er complaineth, do what so you will;
But what you mean well, a widow takes ill:
A widow will make you a drudge and a slave,
And, cost ne'er so much, she will ever go brave.
A maid is so modest, she seemeth a rose
When it first beginneth the bud to unclose;
But a widow full-blowen full often deceives,
And the next wind that bloweth shakes down all her leaves.
The widows be lovely, I never gainsay,
But too well all their beauty they know to display;
But a maid hath so great hidden beauty in store,
She can spare to a widow, yet never be poor.
Then, if ever I marry, give me a fresh maid,
If to marry with any I be not afraid;
But to marry with any, it asketh much care;
And some bachelors hold they are best as they are.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Poor Boy’s Christmas
Observe, my child, this pretty scene,
And note the air of pleasure keen
With which the widow’s orphan boy
Toots his tin horn, his only toy.
What need of costly gifts has he?
The widow has nowhere to flee.
And ample noise his horn emits
To drive the widow into fits.
MORAL:
The philosophic mind can see
The uses of adversity.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Curse of Lust
O Lust! you're burning holes in our affair.
We lost our brazen face without a care-
Flaunting all in front of those who scowled,
Laughing at the doleful - e'er we howled!
Ironically, our sneering turned inside
To out the damage, tear apart our pride.
We saw we'd fallen for the devil's dust!
So let's in shame the blade to take and thrust!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Cut Up Angels
If we cut out the bad
Well then wed have nothing left
Like I cut up your mouth
The night I stuffed it all in
And you lied to the Angel
Said I stabbed you to death
If we go at the same time
They'll clean up the mess
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
Watched you bite into the bottle
Watched me kick out the chair
Let you chew up the glass
And laughed as you just hung there
I have thought of rose petals mostly perfect and pure
Then I thought of your petals
And the abuse theyve been through
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
Whoa whoa
I told the angels
Cant stay in heaven
I asked the devil
If we cut out the bad well then we'd have nothing left
Like I cut up your angels
Yeah you stabbed me to death
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
song performed by by Used
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honey is to taste
Honey is sweet to any one to taste
But its confinement, alas, is its fate.
Others, suited, are forbidden to taste.
When that one is lost honey goes naked
And seems sweeter to many wicked,
For which must it find soon a safe pocket.
Otherwise, it may turn sour in neglect,
Or may dry out in long disuse,
Or, perhaps, lies bare for someone’s abuse.
Honey, when orphaned by the host,
Be reclaimed by any one worth it,
Before it is too late, and thus be it blest.
Youth is honey,
Be she a a virgin or a widow,
With the same flow.
[About a young beautiful widow]
12.04.2000, Palakkad Lady Airly
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Widow
It's hard to be a widow.
They think of you as one.
And all you ever think of
is how you two had begun.
Couple, pair, twosome,
partners all through life.
Then one day it's over.
You used to be a wife.
Now you eat your meals
all by yourself
and go to bed alone.
You see the chair
across from you
and you'd always known
there'd be a time when one of you
would leave before the other.
And now you're left with children.
You're known as just a mother.
It's hard to be a widow
but there's nothing you can do.
You keep your memories to yourself
when all you knew were two.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Flower is only leaves.
Flowers, you are leaves,
A modification in evolution.
Love, you are lust,
A hypocritical purity.
Flowers are modified leaves.
So is love of lust, believe.
But one difference.
When you see flower, leaf is lost.
When you see leaf, flower is not lost.
Love hides lust but not vice versa.
19.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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