Pears Erotica
seductive
curvaceous
sensual art:
Anjou, Bosc…
pears/
entwined as
one
moistened
orgasmic
sweet juices
flow on to
my tongue
tasting
the
voluptuous
lust-filled
passion
of its
buxom core
we,
lascivious pair
Gift of
the Gods
to the
mortal
Related quotes
Sun loaded juices
Small sour waits for ripening sun,
soaking up warm rays 'til plum
coloured sweet upon the tongue.
Plum coloured sweet upon the tongue
merry mixed with old and young
naked feet, then danced upon.
Young naked feet then danced upon
sweetness ripened by the sun.
Loaded juices run and run.
Sun loaded juices run and run,
lazy sleeping until one
day long mellow pouring done.
One day long mellow pouring done
to gather all for that one
first noble tasting on the tongue
poem by Diana Rosser
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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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I Love Sensual Women
I love sensual women and not passionate ones. A passionate woman closes her eyes, moans and shouts and the enjoyment of a passionate woman is blind.
A passionate woman writhes about, grabs you with her hands without looking where, clasps you, kisses you, even bites you and hurries to reach her climax as soon as she can. She has no time to display her sexual organs, no time to examine, touch with the hand and kiss your sexual organs, she is in such a hurry to slake her passion. Having slaked her passion, the passionate woman will fall asleep. The sexual organs of a passionate woman are dry. A passionate woman is always in some way or another mannish.
The sensual woman is always feminine.
Her contours are rounded and abundant.
The sensual woman rarely reaches a blind passion. She savours sexual enjoyment.
The sensual woman is always a woman and even in an unaroused state her sexual organs are moist. She has to wear a bandage on her sexual organs, so as not to soak them with moisture.
When she takes the bandage off in the evening, the bandage is so wet that it can be squeezed out.
Thanks to such an abundance of juices, the sexual organs of a sensual woman give off a slight, pleasant smell which increases strongly when the sensual woman is aroused. Then the juice from her sexual organs is secreted in a syrupy stream.
A sensual woman likes you to examine her sexual organs.
poem by Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
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Lust Flows As Naturally As Sweat
Gazing upon the turquoise-beaded necklace
Of a dark, mysterious Turkish girl,
A man slips into mystical ancient times
Of hidden codes and long forgotten gods,
Astrological-charted paths
Of love and destiny.
The hot sun tingles on warm skin,
Lust flows as naturally as sweat
And oozes from every pore
Breathing sensual rendezvous,
Physical encounters in barely furnished rooms,
Clothing is removed and tossed
Onto simple rugs,
Then the tasting of tongues.
Orgasmic adventures amid threats
From violently plotting parents
And a jealous suitor counting the days
To receive his intended prize
Who is expected to bleed on clean sheets
Of somebody’s defined customary purity.
But young girls all prefer rough renegades
Who joyously seize their love
That the lackluster and naive
Can never appreciate;
Girls can always return and lie
To any boy who blindly follows
The dictates of his parents.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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White Chocolate
White chocolate when i taste it,
It makes me think of you,
It's melting upon my tongue gently,
And remembers me of your sensual lips.
White chocolate is like a dream,
Something that i can not control,
A deep temptation of my body,
To have a piece melting in my mouth.
White chocolate eating it's like visiting heaven,
Lingering on my tongue delicious, creamy, soft,
I crave the sweet melting sensation of it,
It's like your sensual lips are kissing me.
White chocolate is giving me the passion feeling,
When touching my lips with every bite,
It's like a crazy pleasure on my tongue,
It makes me feel so beautiful and alive.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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What They Say
they say what is it that i have seen
your eyes are too ordinary
but i see them as warm suns
rising with time for my lonely morning
they say your lips are like any other mortal lips
but no, they are the luscious sacred flesh
too sweet too ripe for my tasting
my tongue always dream about fibers
and flesh and dripping drops of juice
they say your are just one mortal walking
on the common streets of this village
but no, you're so divine, a goddess,
a progeny of light descending
from the glory of the heavens
to the profanity of my distant world
they say i belong to the genealogy of the gods
and i must not defy the law that gives justice to our kind
but no, i love you, and i am descending from this throne
i now sleep on the grass, naked without my crown
disrobed, undressed, i am alone now, away from them,
they that mock me, i am alone now, long waiting for you.
how can you be so unkind? you send the message
you are not finally coming to be with me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Black Bruises IV
I can gorge the vile blackness,
the eviscerated acquiescence
like a dog-eats-dog carnival
I can endure the struggle
tasting blotted inks,
tasting cheap champagnes,
tasting one's molting skin,
tasting a chance to begin,
tasting cold greasy dishes,
tasting stark carnal sin,
tasting tar and nicotine,
tasting saline misery,
but am I the only one tasting
these black bruised savors?
poem by Norman Santos
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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
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
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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Dance with Gift
Dance with gift
God gave me this gift
this love
this life
this passion
The passion to dance
When I dance for Gods people
my brothers and sisters
Im showing them the glory
of are God are savior
When i dance i feel
this burning feeling in my body
waiting for me to go crazy
I slitly close my eyes and dream
that im dancing with a gift
a gift of God
poem by Kathy Azanon
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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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Passion Is Power Transformative
passion creates no choice
passion productivity produce
passion desire compels excels
passion is power transformative
passion is creation seductive
passion is emotive abilities
passion is mind romance
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Passions Heat
A warm inviting fire
Incense burning sweet
Come to me my darling
For a night of passion, heat
Join me on the floor
Where fluffy pillows surround
Crackling pops from the fire
Break silence, and give sound
No words tonight exchanged
Yet heart on heart we speak
Resound judgement spills
Fragrance of lovers leak
Sweet kisses smoother skin
Lips quiver a mating dance
Moistened mouths connect
In Lust, love and romance
A warm inviting fire
Incense burning sweet
Come to me my darling
For a night of passion, heat
Copyright 2007 W. Bureau
poem by Wendy Bureau
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Where Theres Beauty, Theres You:
There's beauty and there's wonder,
The wonder to know the person, and the love for the person
Both, I can't live without,
Therefore, I can't live without you.
There's passion and there's lust,
Both I can't live without,
Because there the two things that remind me of you.
Your eyes, for instance,
They shine with a fiery passion,
Or your lips,
Always filled with lust,
A lust that you rightfully clam, as you crush your lips to my own...
poem by Sherry Painter
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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
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Passion's Place
I walk to the edge of the earth
With one step
I am deep in your hearth
Slipping into your arms
Searching for ecstasy
Deep in the wilds
Of your sexual mist
Taking leave of reality
To climax in the heavens
Of orgasmic bliss
As you gently place
Your sweet tender kiss
All over my place
I spread my wings
We begin to fly
Through the moist azure sky
Soaring to passion's place
While losing face
In the heat of desire
As lust takes a walk
On the highwire
Towards the light
While never losing sight
Of passion's goal
Of becoming one
Body, mind and soul
poem by Savannah Churchill
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Mocha Encomium For Elizabeth Fair
Tasteful is the delectable fruit which you posses
Sweet is the cherry that is divine straight from the vine
Vanilla faced in motions sensuous quivering to the touch
Taint that wonderful tongue slides deep inside she clutches
Peach filled aroma consumed to ones desire
Brazilian shaven oyster with tender filled moistened center
Succulent clam spans wide to follow through
Slanted plum hydrated fully to burst quenched one’s thirst
I like a child in your playground romping with my intended meal
Chewing, swallowing, and devouring by nibbling sensations
Speech apparatus moves from side to side to articulate my circular motions
Torso tenses while squeezing on shoulder’s broad you fought
Fire consumes as passion flairs to scorch the chamber chocolate hot
Thighs wide filled with amore chanting softly sweet strawberries
The seat of intellect plunged downward ever rhythmically tasting apple pie
Bodies swaying to and throw configuring a spectacular musical accelerando
Juicy the flower’s nectar that suddenly sets back my mind in time
As the Bees carries their gatherings back to the lair, savored I the flavored flower
How fine it was to dine behind then forward to romp freely in your treasure field
Frolicking you the boisterous one made a day of it all
Prancing to natures fruitful basket like notes in a classical sonata
The movement grew to a crescendo climaxing at its peak of efficiency
Peach juice ran down legs to gently rest in my hands
Satisfaction complete now hence to my course intertwining
Beating back the hands of time I rising to the occasion set forth I commenced
Brought on by desires beyond my control, I entered caverns deep and fulfilling
I wasted not the flower while trying not to overpower the dance of love
The night came to a screech shouting relief from such a blissful pain
Patiently now I wait for encounters evermore so nice that I now endeavor
The nights grows cold as winter winds set in upon my lascivious desires
Such lewd acts I crave now for I have not a clue in what to do until the next episode
Licentious are my erotic tendencies for wanton flairs a passion new
For the one touch I need so much has become my unbridled prurient
Anticipation drives me into hysteria for one moments embrace
The shark circles the flowered fruit that has sent me into a feeding frenzy
Cherries unclad against my visage unabated has left me wanting you more than ever
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Misty Haze
Misty blue haze, rise above the oceans, green waves
Loves seeds, entangle seaweed, washed ashore
Salty waters flow, to carve its sandy caves
Water glistens, loves silhouettes, dare to dance
Cool green waters, foam to white, a gentle seduction
Nature's music fills the air, a pure sweet romance
Suns glow, bodies external heat, passion's exotic blaze
Oceans exquisite temptation, salted lust upon our lips
Love's eyes locked in pleasure, a gentle hypnotic gaze
Body's silken skin, internal heat, together life's entwined
Foamy Waters, heightened sensations, a tantalizing Pleasure
Loves unforgettable passion, scribes a ocean delicate line
soft wind, gentle whispers, kissed away our fear
Nature's lust, loves desire, birds sing, body exotic bliss
Nether can resist, let passion sounded, for all to hear
poem by Daughter Of A Cracked Mind
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Mortal Love
mortality does
not ask for love eternal
mortal love
cannot outlive eternity’s edge
to an infinite span
mortal love
does not ask forever
never
mortal love
makes lies, makes changes,
twists and turns
mortal love is simple
like a dimple
one tongue
to one earthly word
nope
may do
may say something else
It is only asking
That you love
One day at a time
With all allowance for change
For a wider space
Leeways
Choices
Mortal love is free
frivolous
this love of mine
Today is just enough
mortal
And so rightly deserved
A mortal like me
Also bleeds
Weeds filled
No promises, just a hug, an embrace
And
A kiss, then could be, goodbye.
Because mortal love
Dies, like a wind passing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Lust We Fought For
The lust we fought for in now just a pile of ash.
The lust we fought for was a lie to it's very last.
The lust we fought for burns in my memory every night.
The kust we fought for wasn't worth it's own right.
The lust we fought for seemed so out of control.
The lust we fought for only needed us to grab ahold.
So the lust we fought for wasn't lust at all.
Indeed it was love that made our great fall.
The lust we fought for keeps me crying at night.
The lust we fought for has me praying to turn it right.
The lust we fought for makes me miss you more.
The lust we fought for broke my heart to it's core.
The lust we fought for brings out a million tears.
The lust we fought for challenged all of my fears.
So the lust we fought for was the pain i deserved to face.
Indeed it was love from that magically beautiful place.
The lust we fought for is now gone up in flames...
Because I now know that the lust we fought for was real all the same.
poem by Erin Grantham
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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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