Erotic Lullaby For Bedding, After Roethke
Belly belly the hard boiled egg.
I map out of a dream.
Love a long necked boy.
Dance lips! Leaves of legion.
Jelly, yard dog! Leap to June.
Suckle me, honey,
long necked, boney onion.
Why cry when peeled?
Count the rings of a tree,
the circles of a breath.
The nose is a love.
Press me, press me.
Iron me soft.
A breath leans,
nape of jeans falling.
Wedge me, wedge me.
Be an ax.
Clap me, trunk of calcium,
bone of need.
Sing, throat, puller of weeds,
secret coronations.
I day your arbor.
You arbor my seed,
belly belly
egg of sway.
Falter me,
long necked, naked boy.
Lather I'd rather thee.
All egg is joy.
poem by Warren Falcon
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Benny Bullfrog
So there I am polished heart throat in full puff
I look the part my wad is packed to reimburse.
Ive yet to re-rehearse many moons spent on lovelines lent from
Long-legged pop-eyed fat-necked benny bullfrog.
Final run-through polish up
The flower of loves my buttercup.
Moon in june for you Ill croon
Just like pop-eyed fat-necked benny bullfrog.
Mean piece of muscle Im melvin toad,
I dice with death, across the road.
Hop aboard my lovers leap
Fat-necked quatermass
Who needs a benny bullfrog.
Here she comes (keep a cool head)
My legs numb (keep a cool head)
I cant run (keep a cool head)
High! my names hunky how dyou do
I catch a fly in one swoop
I catch a fly just for you
Thats if you do want me to
But youre not hungry I know
A sixth sense gave me a clue.
I know what else we can do.
(you creep !)
Long-legged pop-eyed fat-necked benny bullfrog.
Wish I was benny bullfrog
Cool as benny bullfrog
Whats the secret, bullfrog?
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Belly rub
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
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For My Dog Amber Who Died A Year Ago
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I Touch Your Belly
When I touch your belly tears of amazement run down my eyes.
I am so amazed that inside your womb a life lies.
A child that was created all from our love;
God, I can’t believe that in a few weeks you’ll give birth to our miracle of love.
When I touch your belly with my ear;
I can’t believe the heart beat I hear.
It like a little drum beating a message to me;
In the sounds of the beat I swear our child is saying hi daddy.
When I touch your belly I caressing you as well as our child;
I’m caressing you to say thank you for carrying our child.
I could not have chosen a better mother then you.
These are all the things I’m saying when I touch your belly.
The Ideas Shall Always Be Coming...
for as long as the roses have thorns
as long as the fish bone is in the throat
butterflies inside the belly
worms under the feet
flies inside the bottle sealed
still wanting to breathe and still crazy
over life
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Heal
Fall for me, my southern cross, my star
Shine for me when love has gone too far
Ive got you belly-deep in me.
Just a little breath on the water is all we need
Just a little strenght in our hearts -
Enough to heal,
Enough to heal.
Dig me out, cant leave this love for dead
Hand to mouth were picking up the thread
Ive got you belly-deep in me.
Just a little breath on the water now is all we need
Just a little strenght in our hearts,
Enough to heal,
Enough to heal.
And the sea glistens,
And the waves pull us in
Theres something rising up and up.
Just a little breath on the water now,
Just a little strenght in our hearts,
Enough to heal,
Enough to heal.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The theory of harmless excess
When you are squiffy as a jelly,
Don't worry, this is almost nothing
As long as you can stay on belly,
But you don't need to cling to something.
Nature that Washed Her Hands in Milk
Nature, that washed her hands in milk,
And had forgot to dry them,
Instead of earth took snow and silk,
At love's request to try them,
If she a mistress could compose
To please love's fancy out of those.
Her eyes he would should be of light,
A violet breath, and lips of jelly;
Her hair not black, nor overbright,
And of the softest down her belly;
As for her inside he'd have it
Only of wantonness and wit.
At love's entreaty such a one
Nature made, but with her beauty
She hath framed a heart of stone;
So as Love, by ill destiny,
Must die for her whom nature gave him
Because her darling would not save him.
But time, which nature doth despise
And rudely gives her love the lie,
Makes hope a fool, and sorrow wise,
His hands do neither wash nor dry;
But being made of steel and rust,
Turns snow and silk and milk to dust.
The light, the belly, lips, and breath,
He dims, discolors, and destroys;
With those he feeds but fills not death,
Which sometimes were the food of joys.
Yea, time doth dull each lively wit,
And dries all wantonness with it.
Oh, cruel time, which takes in trust
Our youth, or joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways
Shuts up the story of our days.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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El #1
Here we are,
in the belly of a creeping snake,
lurching and burping up some of the people
as quickly as it gobbles them up.
It ducks and weaves amongst the tall concrete grasses
only to stop as it passes
to engage in the burping and gobbling gesture again.
Here we are,
in the belly of a creeping snake
Its a wonderful thing, this
movement is molten silver
Like a dancer who might have had her training in outer space.
I am here, in this belly, warm and protected
for a long time you might have suspected.
There is no reason to leave
unless I want something new.
Its a wonderful thing, this movement is molten silver
Its now or never, and we make a break for the light.
I take in a deep breath and inhale the flavor of freedom,
my first move isn’t to vote but choose the ice cream.
We all scream for ice cream, till it falls out of our grasp
and onto the concrete below.
Its now or never, and we make a break for the light
poem by Paul Velat
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The hungry belly and the full belly do not walk the same road.
Foreplay much matters [adults only]
Wave her hair, hold her head, pinch her nose
And press her hands. She is excited.
Lick her neck, kiss her cheeks, pinch the ears, Circle the navel and press the thighs and the belly.
She is aroused.
Lock her lips with yours, knead the breasts, Bite the nipples, lick the armpits
Circle the clitoris. She is charged.
Do cunnilingus. She is burning.
Enter her, toss her till she falls flat..
She will be yours years.
03.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Can be a servant
Don’t feel being a servant
In the family of your son
If it is for your belly
For you had been a servant
At your will to bring him up
With no return for your belly.
06.05.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Alabaster Cave ~ A Villanelle
Inside the belly of the whale
He left her to construct her fate
A conduct far beyond the pale
A darkness like the pit of hell
She slipped and tumbled upside down
Inside the belly of the whale
Skeletal hands with sharp toenails
That clung to alabaster walls
And onyx wing-beats flapped pell-mell
The mousy guano rained and fell
Laying eggs inside her hair
Inside the belly of the whale!
She looked to hide to no avail
He'd plowed ahead and left her there
A conduct far beyond the pale
No handholds, twas like reading Braille
He'd doused the green light lamp telltales
Inside the belly of the whale
A conduct far beyond the pale
poem by Sara Fielder
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Arabic Nights
you are the arabesque
into my arabic nights.
you dance and i open my eyes
trying to see where does love reside
in your belly? no, it is not there.
it could be inside you.
but you are closed as a door
of the palace where aladin lives
i am looking for love.
dance, dance for me.
it is dark here and you are the light.
the moon.
i am a snake. i need the apple.
let me bite you.
take me inside you.
you are my paradise.
you are my tree.
i have the apple inside my throat.
do not die yet.
i am still alive.
please. please.
please me i am not dead yet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Blue Bird...
THERE is a blue bird
nesting inside my belly
there are butterflies in
there too,
THERE is nothing that
comes out from my belly
there is nothing that
flutters in there
nothing flies away
there is nothing
that comes out from
my mouth
THERE is only a blue bird
in my belly
the butterflies do not
last
only the blue bird
yes
this blue bird
this silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I Was A Young Girl
(A Song of Old Ballads)
WHEN I was a young girl, all in a green arbor,
When I was a young girl in Springtimes gone by
All the long days I went singing and smiling,
Down by the roses the sweet days beguiling,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
Oh, the long days I must sit at my sampler,
Oh, the slow way that the still time would go!
I longed to be running across the bright heather,
'Off with the silk gown and on with the leather,
Following the raggle-taggle gypsies, oh!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl in days that were golden,
When I was a young girl, and life had no smart,
All the world seemed a place for my playing,
Full of great lovers to come to me, saying,
'Madam, I give you the keys of my heart . . .'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, and dreaming apart!
When I was a young girl, I dreamed of my lover,
A tall cavalier who should whisper me low,
'Love, on your lips are red roses a-blowing,
I am your true love, and fast is time going
Am I your true love? Oh, say yes or no!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl–
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl there came my true lover,
Swiftly I knew him in glad days gone by;
Never a sword or a lovelock or feather,
But oh, at his touch 'twas our hearts came together,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
poem by Margaret Widdemer
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Jolly Good Ale and Old
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
I am nothing a-cold;
I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I love no roast but a nutbrown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if I would,
I am so wrapt, and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see
The tears run down her cheek.
Then doth she troll to me the bowl,
Even as a maltworm should;
And saith,"Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
Now let them drink, till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily troll'd,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
poem by William Stevenson
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Back and Side go Bare
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
I am nothing a-cold;
I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I love no roast but a nutbrown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if I would,
I am so wrapt, and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see
The tears run down her cheek.
Then doth she troll to me the bowl,
Even as a maltworm should;
And saith,"Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
Now let them drink, till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily troll'd,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
poem by William Stevenson
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On Poverty..
How will the poor man raise his voice,
Without food in his belly?
He is willing to work,
But wishes he had the energy.
Like many things in this universe,
This cycle too has been reversed.
He will have to become someone,
So as to feed his belly.
He will have to ignore his hunger,
If food he wants to see.
poem by Sameer Daniel Gardner
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Swallowing The Seed
swallowing the seed
fear begins to grow
the seed sprouts inside
his belly and roots begin
to travel inside his prostate
down to his bottom
unto his feet
immobilizing him
the seed begins to have
buds and leaves
and twigs and
huge trunks
his eyes shrink on the barks
his nose all gone
there are no signs of the original man
he swallowed the seed of life
that no one dared.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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