The interpreters
.
Child’s urine is mere water to mother.
Arm pits of women are sweet smell to men.
One’s own odour is a prfume to oneself.
Lust and passion are the interpreters.
16.08.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The interpreters.
The child’s urine is water to mother..
Women’s armpits are smell of rose to men.
One’s own odour is pleasing to oneself.
Lust and passion are the interpreters.
16.08.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Being A Mother
MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
MOTHER IS A WORD
MOTHER IS A PERSON
MOTHER IS A WOMEN
BUT WAT IS REALLY A MOTHER?
MOTHER! ! ! ! ! !
MOTHER IS WOMEN WHO GIVES BIRTH
NO........
MOTHER IS A WOMEN WHO CARES OF HER BABY
MOTHER IS A WOMEN WHO IS WILLING TO GIVE HER LIFE FOR THEIR BABY'S
ANY WOMEN CAN HAVE A BABY
ANY WOMEN CAN GIVE BIRTH
ANY WOMEN CAN BE CALLED MOM
BUT ONLY A REAL WOMEN
ONLY A REAL MOTHER CAN TAKE OVER HER RESPOSABILITIES
ONLY A WOMEN CAN DO WHATS BEST FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! !
A MOTHER LIKE ME
A MOTHER LIKE U
A MOTHER WHO CRIES FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO PRAYS FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO GIVES HER LIFE FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO STARVES TO FEED HER CHILD
A MOTHER WHO IS WILLING TO SLEEP IN THE COLD FOR THEIR CHILD,
A MOTHER WHO MAKES HER CHILDREN FEEL SAFE IN HER ARMS,
BEING THAT MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
BEING THAT MOTHER TAKES ALOT OF WOMEN N A PERSON
BEING A MOTHER........
poem by Leticia Sanchez
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Visual prostitutions
Be Air Hostess, Nurses,
Receptionists, Frontline Officers,
News Readers, TV. Announcers,
Personal Assistances
Not to say about Models and Dancers,
All women, comely women,
To add colour to the premises,
To spray flavour to the masses,
And to spray odour to the bosses.
A mere visual prostitution.
No less than pimps.
Egress of lust for women.
24.07.2000, Paralskhemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Cow's urine
Cow 's
urine is...
Very very
Good...
It was usese
Some houses
At the...
Drops to water
Washing...
In india's
villages...
yes it is
Some naturral
Anti water...
some moor
village people
washes face also...
Cow's urine...
With gentely...!
[in india at tamil nadu village people usese's cow's urine...}
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Mother and child
Who nurses better-
Mother or wife? Mother
Whom does one nurse better-
Child or mother? Child
Husband is unfortunate.
13.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
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
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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
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 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
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Nasty Bath Room
The bustand
Bath room
Was not for
Clean...
Urine sumeel
Cut the nose...
Some budy pass
Urine...
No for water
But
Colected money
For indian rupees
Onr for urine pass...
Rupees two for
Motion pass...
I was give
One rupee
I went the
Bustand bath room...
Not passed
The urine...
Urine was my self
Very urgent...
But i did not pass urine;
I was pay the one rupee
For indian money
Nasty bath room...
You also go and see
The bustand that bath room
Very care full...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Love, passion and lust
Love demands no right;
Love demands no weight;
Love demands no return.
A mother thus loves.
Passion demands hold;
Passion demands right;
Passion demands return.
A woman can translate it.
Lust finds no ethics;
Lust exudes no fear.
Lust demands no reason.
A man is adept of it.
2202.10.2000, Vijayavada
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Mother knows
The odour of an apple pie.
Fresh baked and set aside to cool.
Would tempt a stronger soul than I
to discard sense and play the fool.
Beneath that crisp and golden crust
there lie stewed apples rich and sweet.
Arousing a small boy’s greedy lust.
My mother is nobody’s fool
she knew just what I hand in mind
and well before I broke the rule,
She took a switch to my behind.
It was my turn I had to learn
though mother’s kind she can be stern.
4-Sep-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Water and woman
‘Water, water, everywhere,
But not a dropp to drink’. It is the ocean
Women, women, everywhere,
But not a bit to touch. It is the society
Ocean water is salty and open.
Women water is sweet and seald.
24.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The lust defined
Lust means luxuria, lechery, lasciviousness and sensuality.
Lust means intensive desire for sexual pleasure,
A taboo of the sixth commandments.
Lust is nothing but power, most aphrodisiacal.
Lust is carrying women in thought.
Lust is substituting prostitutes.
Lust is marrying and sustaining a family,
Putting up with children crying,
Overdoing themselves in explanation of lapses,
Looking at women they like to move around,
Buying expensive clothes for themselves,
Gifting valuables to women they have crush on,
Paying attention to woman other than their wives
To make up what was missing
Without knowing what it is.
In a nut shell, lust is in every action.
16.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Smell
Come, snuggle, smell
The nooks, crannies
Corners – the pits
In my arms.
You’ll sniff the whiff
Of the Fragrant
Shower gel that I use
And the Talcum that
Keeps the ‘feel’ of my
Skin, soft and smooth.
But, my darling,
If you be late
In coming to me
Let me not hesitate
In telling you of that
‘bonus’ that you might
Get - of smelling me
In my erotic sweat.
So choose your time
Make haste or relax
And come to me
In your own time.
Whatever time
You come…
Snuggling into me
I promise there would
Always be some sweet
Smell of mine.
The love and lust
That I carry for those
Fingering Fantasies of thine
Would always emanate
In the Fragrance
Of the shower, the talc
And that invigorating
Sweat of mine.
So come to me, my darling
I’ll await you…
Till the end of time.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Women are upcoming
Batsman theory [1948] is outdated.
Woman is no more investing
Her energy into mere
Child bearing and child rearing.
She is no more monogamous,
And competes with man on all counts,
That includes polygamy too.
Now both are in the love market
To test if they're still salable.
One third of women, like most men,
Are turned on porn and get aroused.
Seeing them, she spices up her lust.
Predatory sense has migrated
To woman, and men hence are blessed.
[based on a recent survey in England]
04.07.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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The smells of Football
Football has it's own smells
from the grass on the pitch
to the aroma from the Hot Dog stalls.
In the dressing room there's sweat
strong odour coming from ointments
being rubbed into aching muscles.
On the terraces you smell beer
years ago there was tobacco too
on Boxing Day the whiff of cigar smoke.
As a boy my mothers washing powder
making my kit smell nice and fresh
and getting rid of mud and grass stains.
The smell of leather of a new pair
of football boots and new ball
and layers of thick black polish.
At the half-time break in a match
onto the field came a large tray
full of sweet smelling and tasty Oranges.
These are the smells of Football
the odours of the Beautiful game
and for some the sweet smell of success.
poem by Kevin Halls
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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
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Heat of a Woman
The heat of a woman rising in lust
To bring flames to life turning men to dust
The heat that can burn, scorch and sear
When ever the man gets to near
But if a man survives the flames
The passion she shows will drive him insane
Locked in a timeless ecstasy
With no escape none he can see
Would he want to run away?
Diving in deeper with his soul he must pay
Of all the passions of women unbound
It’s the passion of lust that brings men down
poem by Dennis Walker
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