Seductive
My hair reaches the end of my back
I smell like cinnamon
I have curves and thighs
My skin isn't dark, it's actually white
I've got a million dollar smile that wil make you melt
My eyes show emotion and are the color of the sea
My hair is raven and wildly curly
Be proud to be a woman, feel beautiful
poem by Christian Sims
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Ebony Princess
Her hair was as black as the calm of the night
And was as black and as dark as I could see
Her body slowly moved like a bird in flight
I saw her, and I was overwhelmed by her beauty.
Her eyes they shined like a full moon glistened
And her smile was that of a new day sun
My soul before her was locked away in prison
And releasing that key, it had already begun.
Her skin was as soft as the finest silk
And her lips they tempted me with their mystery
Her teeth they sparkled and was white as milk
And her skin, was the color of ebony.
I looked at her and then my look became a stare
She became my muse and also my destiny
Her skin was dark and black was her hair
Then she whispered in my ear, "Don't forget me".
"Don't Forget me", she whispered those words to me
And like a raven with secrets she went away
With her skin so soft and the color of ebony
I pray again that we would meet again one day.
Her name forever is locked inside of my heart
And it will be lost, until to God her name I will confess
Until then if any man asks me who was the beauty of my art
My answer will be, my sweet and beautiful ebony princess.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hold The Heart
Something magical happens
In bein' with a woman
Who can hold the heart and soul
Of an inamorato
Whether tall or short;
With whatever color eyes,
And however long hair;
With cinnamon skin
Or skin that is pale or dark
Something magical happens
Something magical happens
In seein' the lightness
And swiftness of movement
In watchin' her dance
Or ridin' horseback
Or brushin' her hair
In witnessin' her
Fervent attentions
Her ardent advances
Something magical happens
Something magical happens
In bein' with a woman
With a mysterious crown
Of enchantment that attracts
And can hold the heart.
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skin Hair…
Skin Hair…
Where else does the earth rise?
settle down with a fall,
cover with strand...
after other strand,
of hair curl,
loom adversely,
along the length,
along the breadth....
of a man, woman
where it is delicate, where it is private...
pronounced an' concealed.
on the face above the eyes,
like a brush of feathers,
above the lip,
a moustache…
eloquently trim,
tweezed eye browses,
hair flock grace the neck,
onto the back.
Along the shin,
Along the skin,
Smooth touch rendered,
Chill rising the hair follicles,
Desire burn,
In the shower wet with soap,
Silk fiber strand,
Run through fingers of a lover,
Relishing the sensations erect,
Tiny hair, almost as fur…
Souring along the back,
Trough upon the skin,
Collect scent of a love scene.
The skin here dark,
Chocolate born,
Wind caress these, both hair an' skin
Creature so supreme,
Conquer all but this, delicate
Feather brush of skin against skin,
Hair rise here thin,
Space of a love gaze seen,
Hair on skin….
poem by Merlin Mwaura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skin Hair
Skin Hair…
Where else does the earth rise?
settle down with a fall,
cover with strand...
after other strand,
of hair curl,
loom adversely,
along the length,
along the breadth....
of a man, woman
where it is delicate, where it is private...
pronounced an' concealed.
on the face above the eyes,
like a brush of feathers,
above the lip,
a moustache…
eloquently trim,
tweezed eye browses,
hair flock grace the neck,
onto the back.
Along the shin,
Along the skin,
Smooth touch rendered,
Chill rising the hair follicles,
Desire burn,
In the shower wet with soap,
Silk fiber strand,
Run through fingers of a lover,
Relishing the sensations erect,
Tiny hair, almost as fur…
Souring along the back,
Trough upon the skin,
Collect scent of a love scene.
The skin here dark,
Chocolate born,
Wind caress these, both hair an' skin
Creature so supreme,
Conquer all but this, delicate
Feather brush of skin against skin,
Hair rise here thin,
Space of a love gaze seen,
Hair on skin….
poem by Merlin Mwaura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Human Shape
Racially pure European and Asian
men have straight hair growing
from their heads.
Some other men have hair that's
curly, growing from their heads.
But hair shape is not the shape that
really matters.
Because it's the shape of the human
forehead that makes you a man.
Rather than a chimpanzee.
Whether your skin color is white,
brown or bread-crust tan.
poem by Philip R. Garges Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Beauty
There’s are days when you just wanna feel like a beauty in everyone’s eyes. But there’s always a butt head to make you feel less then you are I believe if you think or know you are then you are. It’s only what you make of it. There are times when I don’t feel beauty at but I think of what I always told myself. “My beauty is not just a pretty face. The beauty I have is a brand new sent of peace. My beauty is lovely peace sense of laughing out loud. My beauty is like an oak wooden chair that my daddyand I love to sit and think in. My beauty is a graceful smile I give her everyday.
My beauty I have is a great sense of style that I have to show the world. My beauty is my fragrant smell of lavender on my skin and hair. Beauty that I want is a 5 star hotel that someday I will stay in when I’m famous. Beauty is my toned color of the skin on my body. My beauty slowly surely of love i feel for you.
Beauty is my sleek smooth skin of my true beauty is deep within me. Now I know the sign of beauty I was bless with.
poem by Evevona Plummer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That girl
That girl
with bangs on her hair
a pink headband, thick lips pure red,
curly hair, mini skirt, and bleached legs
as white as may sky,
the way she sits tells me
that she is a woman now
beautiful to be with
because of her
bad habits.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She loves her hair stretched
accustomed to curly hair
when we were yet children
living in the same house
I feel uneasy why she
wears stretched hair
And she takes pride
about her new found fashion
And taste for something straight.
Curly hairs and split ends
Never gave her luck
She got an ugly husband
Who does not understand her
Rich maybe, but slaps her
It is time she gains confidence
In herself to a newer face
A stretched hair, straight
And candid and ready to
Fight now, win or lose,
At whatever costs she must
Deny her old self, the one
With the curly hair, she is
Ready for the consequences.
Her right as a new woman
With stretched hair is now
Or never, she has no time left
Anymore for hiding and cowardice and tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Grandeur And The Majesties Of Nature
the sea will always be there
always surfaces moving and sometimes
i ask if it is just the wind that
creates in it
that baby's curly hair
between the sea and this mountain
is the neutral shore
white thighs of a woman spreading her legs
to every manly wave
even to the feminine winds from
far amorous skies
love and lust with always be here
these players of the games that nature
plays upon us
when we watch a mountain come out
from the fog
wearing the white hair of snow caps
when we see heights
that move us into an awe
and then we begin to mentions so many names
of God.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shinning gem's
so special is your hair
without
a seconds and
a countless of gesture, your
fingers wish
to touch
your glooming
hair
in your head
looking back the comb
that splashes the
thinned
shinning hair, as it flashes
all the oily
smooth curly strands, where
between its
length
the little tiny lies wish
to reach
the bottom
views of the beautiful
hair
my bosom friend
love to settle
her magnificent glows of gems
I kept it a
blinks for a while, tempted
to smell
wondering what
would it be, yet!
so fulfilling
to
blow the wind
dazzling to reach the
alluring hair
of my beloved
friend, the only precious
gems she
possess until, the beautiful
angelic hair lost it’s
fragrance of
existence, a glimpse of
dust mesmerize
the memories of the YOU
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Piel Canela
Skin like cinnamon,
Hair raven black.
Softly purring,
And arching her back.
Laying on sheets,
So sparkling white,
Writhing in ecstasy,
And her own delight.
My dusky sorceress,
I'm enchanted it seems,
Every night just past Midnight,
I love you in my dreams.
Don Juan Tenorio
poem by Don Juan Tenorio
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Hurting my mind
You would think we are just friends
but your hands keep touching mine
when will this confusion stop
while we still smile those fake expressions
you know how I feel
brushing you hair with my fingertips
Is their another one
who steals you from me
nothing can heal the scar
that has just opened
maybe one day you will hold me
and love me like you should
but untill then
every single thought
of your hair, skin, smell
and dark brown eyes
is hurting my mind
Dedicated to Nathan Davison
poem by Sydne Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She's just a girl
Her hair flows slowly like a river on her shoulders,
And like the shine of water in a sunny day,
Her hair brights in color shades,
To my eyes delight, a scenery so great.
Her blushing cheeks are holding a magnetic smile,
Meanwhile her eyes are blinking playfully at me,
I feel surrounded by her charmes and beauty,
I am enchanted by her childish purity.
She looks serene as morning sky,
Her skin is soft and white as milk,
Her sweetness, her simplity, the innocence of her soul
Her uniqueness it makes me thrilled.
She's just a girl, a human,
With her juvenile charisma,
In her is living a future woman,
In her are living the joy, the life tumult.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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I Like Being Brown
I like being brown
Caramel with red undertones
I love my thick lips and wide nose
I can create kinky masterpieces from my locks
And yes my round hips can be seen for blocks and blocks
These things are part of my culture you see-traits, characteristics
Yet they don't define me
They don't tell you that I don't like to fly
And am sometimes afraid of the dark
You can't tell by them that on Saturdays
I take my son to the park
My intelligence cannot be seen in the color of my skin
The thickness of my lips does not tell you what kind of person I am
You may assume from my kinky locks that I am a certain 'type'
But only by knowing my heart, can your predictions be right
See whether you are red or tan, white, yellow or brown
With curly or straight hair, eyes slanted or round
Be proud to show love for your culture and your heritage
And celebrate your fellow man as he shows pride in his
poem by Tamika Stubblefield
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Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The girl with the raven tresses
What smile made this soul quiver?
Shiver on this day in her audible stare
Each fingertip touch made the world
Tremble at the thought of caressing
A tress of her raven hair.
What love is held aloft in the sky
By each thought we forget is nought
But the desire we have given
In the quiet embrace of fortune,
In the tresses of her raven hair.
Electric touches find their spark
On yielding skin dappled in tense
Desire, quaking in raptures moved
By the bliss of moment oblivion,
Scented by tresses of her raven hair.
This world shakes off its slavery
And wakens the soul the moment
Each tress of raven hair
Lay rooted on a pillow
Next to your own, asleep.
poem by Resten Swondo
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Erotic Hair
when my hair
gets long enough
after a month
uncut by
my gay barber
they become
so curly
like my pubic
hair
and women
and even gays
love all the curls
of my hair
erotic hair
and i am wearing it
as a crown
understand
i am coping up
with mid-crisis
and i like to
say
i got hair
and they are too curly
like my
(messy) sex life
listen, my life
begins at 69.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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All You See
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Aaah Haa
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Hey Hey
Verse 1 Terry
You best believe everyday I get the same ole thang
All kind of bruthas coming up to me
With silly lies that could make you sick oh they need to quit
And get away from me, don't get me wrong I like attention too
But do they really have to act a foolCuz they see a lady lookin' good?
Please admit
Chorus
Is it my hips? my lips?
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest? My hair?
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Is it my hips? My lips?
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest? My hair?
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Verse 2 Terry
In a limousine, fancy car, bling-bling-bling
Even if you're standing 6 foot 3 or 3 feet tall with no teeth
Have respect for me, try conversation please
Before you try and put your hands on me
When will they ever learn there's more to me,
Than T&A on this PYT
Daddy please
Chorus
Is it my hips? my lips? (Daddy)
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest?(My chest) My hair? (My hair)
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Is it my hips? (My hips) my lips? (My lips)
My eyes? (My eyes) My thighs? (My thighs)
My chest? (My chest) My hair? (My hair)
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Bridge Michael Marshall:
How come you actin' like you don't know
Why some bruthas always lose control
When you're wearing them hip high jeans
With your thong out baby please let a playa speak
And don't you start to tweak,
You got the body that can make men weep
So when you walk around in those do me clothes like those videhos
Girl you need to know that all I'm lookin' at is
Chorus
Hips and lipsAnd eyes, your thighs
Your chest, your hair
Girl that big ole (hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
Your hips, your lips
Your eyes, your thighs
Your chest baby, your hair
You're sexy underwear (hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
Uh-huh Uh-huh sexy underwear I see
Ooh and I know, I know
Your hips somethin' 'bout your thighs
Is driving me crazy, Ooh hey uh-huh uh-huh
(Ooh)Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Aaah Haa
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Hey Hey
(hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Touch Of
The Touch of Your Kiss
A Touch of Your Hand
The touch of your Soft Hair
A Touch of Your Beautiful Eyes
The feel of your hair touching My Face
The Sweet smell of rain that touches Your Soul
A soft touch of a babies skin
Touch of our hearts since we met
The Touch of your smile
A Touch of your love is all I Really Need.
By Charles Kuehnle AkA xxwhitestallionx
poem by Charles Kuehnle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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