The role of hormones
Fair skin, fine features and high breed
Are of no helps for a woman
Unless she’s got enough hormones.
She would hardly excite a man.
Dark skin, core features and low breed
Aren’t hurdles for a woman
If she’s got excess hormones.
She would be a sex bomb to men.
06.12.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hormones give lusture
Fair skin, fine features and high breed
Are helpless unless accompanied
By supply of sexual hormones
To add lusture to a woman.
Dark skin, rough features and low birth
Are helpful when accompanied
By high level of such hormones
To add lusture to a woman.
12.11.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Skins fair and dark
Money has power to buy a woman
And a woman has power to buy a man.
Fair skin matters and high breed matters.
Dark skin and low breed with awe see them.
16.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Want Of Beauty Is Made Up
With the level of sexual hormones high,
A woman is in glow, tempting men around.
Her wanting features pale into nothing.
Sexual thoughts stimulate sexual hormones.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sex is tonic.
Testosterone makes a man sexy,
Giving him rigidity.
Estrogen makes a woman sexy,
Giving her suppleness.
Hormones in both rises to the peak,
When they excite each other.
It is hormones that take care of one’s health.
Hormones’ level increases
When sexual thoughts frequent.
13.02.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beauty comes next.
Be she a girl or a woman,
Lean or plump, tall or dwarf,
Fair or dark, a maid or a queen.
She will arouse a man
When the level of hormones
Is high in either or both
And beauty comes next.
02.11.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I have my hormones balanced. Most doctors are giving women synthetic hormones, which just eliminate the symptoms, but it's doing nothing to actually replace the hormones you have lost. Without our hormones we die.
quote by Suzanne Somers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On modern woman
Smile, take a pretty picture,
Be the best woman you can be.
Paint your nails a scarlet red,
Stain your hair a pale blonde,
Be the best woman you can be.
Perk up those breasts,
Put razor to flesh,
Then Scrape off those old skin cells
Breed, woman, breed!
But don't you get stretch marks.
Be the best woman you can be.
Tear the hair from your vulva,
Be the first to church,
When in doubt, smile.
Steam your hair and bleach your teeth,
Don't neglect your husbands needs,
Be the best woman you can be.
Woman, did you read it in a magazine?
You're a void I can not fill.
Don't ever wrinkle.
You don't have to like it, it's gucci.
Snort this line, eat my words.
Don't neglect your petty needs.
Be the best woman that you can be.
poem by H.J. Shreeve
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The unparallel sensation
There must be a woman in person or by image
To excite a man’s sexual thoughts.
It is these thoughts that trigger his gonads
Which in turn release sexual hormones.
These hormones are responsible
To release rushes of semen
That travels through the tempered region
Causing a kind of sensation,
Like which no other sensation exists.
To achieve it you must mate
Or masturbate, which is easy to do.
09.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The single mother is fevoured.
To marry a high breed is out of reach
For an ordinary woman, of course.
To have his seed by a night stand can work.
A woman can be a mother of high breed,
18.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mother adds to beauty.
A woman becoming a mother,
In her rises the level of hormones.
With that, grow skin’s glow and composure.
She looks more alluring than she was.
21.08.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What basically happens is your hormones get out of whack. Because of the stress in your life your body says, 'I need more hormones.' So, your hormones are trying to produce and produce and produce, and it's even more stressful and it is this wicked cycle.
quote by Marie Osmond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching
You sat intrigued
by the way
the old woman
spooned her soup
sitting in the cafe
all by herself.
She had a bread roll
broken up
on a side plate
and fingered it
into her mouth
in between
mouthfuls of soup.
You watched
unnoticed by her
like some voyeur
studying some woman
undressing
from a nearby room
through binoculars
hidden in the dark.
You studied
her wrinkled features
the way the mouth
opened and closed
the fingers
with screwed up skin
fingered the roll.
Someone spoke to her
as they went by
on their way out.
Yes see you lovey
she said in a voice
that seemed to disown
the features and face.
You guessed
she must have been
some beauty once
and had men
gawking at her
for her looks and hair
with lustful stares
as she made her way
with a sexy wiggle
and show of leg
up a flight of stairs.
poem by Terry Collett
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Illiteracy
some homes breed love
some homes breed hatred
some homes breed moderation
some homes breed extremes
some homes breed worldliness
some homes breed racism
some homes breed kindness
somehomes breed religious bigotry
throw in illiteracy and any country would be bloom to bits
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Her Hidden Treasure
Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.
Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.
Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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To the Other Half
On a September morning
I open the door to a blazing sun
Humid and scorched
I blink at the sun and my hormones
Which give an awkward shape and gait
To the body hanging on
A cliff of desire—
The desire trapped in the body contours—
In that blink I take a quick look
At the (un) written dictums of
Patience, tolerance, virtue
And all that’s associated
With me, the other half
All to survive and serve
A man’s world?
No, no, no!
Screamed my insides…
All needed to understand
And come to terms with
My own ever capricious chemistry
That keeps changing it’s equations
Umpteen times in a day
Within the same body…
All these days I was inhibitive
Of the play of hormones
That label me feminine
The vagaries of my biology!
I wiped off the sun
That kept burning my tough skin
To begin yet another day
For my hormones
To play on this arena
22sep2010
13.13hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Man to woman as sun to plant
Sun is a must, to excite a plant.
Else hormones are not to thaw.
Sun is the cause for scorching it.
Plant cannot dispense with the sun.
Woman cannot dispense with men.
Not to be burnt, she must sweat out.
03.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Where Did My Spring Go?
Where did the spring go?
Where did the trees go?
Where did the sun go?
Where did the bluebirds fly?
Why did the rainbow turn into shadows?
Why am I cold now?
Why does my skin sag?
Why aint my back straight?
Why do my feet ache?
Where did my youth go?
Where did my life go?
Remember walking in the rain,
And getting soaking wet,
Now I got rheumatic pains,
And I really do regret it.
Where did my teeth go?
Where did my muscles go?
Where did my shoulders go?
Where did my chest go?
When you were loving me,
You were just using me.
You would employ me,
You would destroy me.
Now all Ive got are varicose veins.
Where did the spring go?
Where did my hormones go?
Where did my energy go?
Where did my go go?
Where did the pleasure go?
Where did my hair go?
Remember all those sleepless nights,
Making love by candlelight,
And every time you took my love,
You were shortening my life.
Where did my teeth go?
Where did my hair go?
Where did my shoulders go?
Where did my chest go?
Where did my hormones go?
Where did my go go?
Where did my energy go?
Where did my skin go?
Where did my muscles go?
Where did my liver go?
Where did my heart go?
Where did my bones go?
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Sexy Effortlessly
Being sexy is not revealing parts.
Being sexy is highlighting features.
Highlight hair, ears, neck, upper back,
Arms or legs but one or two at a time.
There's a fine line between being sexy
And being cheap, which a woman must note.
For a toned body, no need of windows.
For defying hair, no need of hair-do.
For evenness of the skin, no cosmetics;
For hygiene body, no need of perfume.
On a pair of high heels one is sexy
With breasts forward and buttocks upward.
To look sexy, woman must feel sexy.
In feeling sexy, she gains confidence
About her sexual prowess and command.
Be sexy effortlessly and feed man's eyes.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I am the woman
I am the woman who is unstoppable
I am the woman
Whose dreams are immeasurable
I am the woman
Of a different breed, unbelievable
I am the woman
Of all times, incredible
I am a woman
With passion and purpose, unspeakable
I am the woman
Who decides where I should fall
In this universe, unpredictable
I am the woman
Who refuse to lessen my dreams
To meet man’s expectation, inconceivable
I am a woman
Of greatness and this greatness
Should never be compromise, remarkable
I am that GREAT WOMAN
poem by Kathy Elliott
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Services defined.
Helps for wages aren’t services.
Helps for a favour or fair woman
Cannot be held as services.
Yet such services get merit
If performed as an alternative
To a lucrative jobs at hand.
01.11.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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