Rated for Mature


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These Homosapiens Do This

In the innocence of bare thighs
And candle scents and pleasing breasts
And dark long black hair, and black tights
That roll off, olive-yellow skin
And golden ankles down to your soul

And a womb that gazes for warmth
Is a renaissance of delicious hands
That please in pink panting parting

The please master pouting of looking into eyes
And seduction with need and kneeling
And flowers that lift but do not turn away
Their flicking moist buds for youth at play
In the master strokes of kindness on flesh

I feel the comfort of a thousand generations
The games evolution plays in our brain
And the animal in us, moist and thick

And the beauty of a mouth or a whimper moan
And the urgency of taste, and the clutch
Of golden feast, and the fragrance of need
And the sound of a muffled whisper affirmation
And pleasing down to the bottom of the eyes

Where the heart is a pulsating joining mound
Of clitoral tremors and soothing trembling.

The Rod and the Ocean


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Lady, I will touch with my mind’s eyes
And with my soul’s voice whisper
You naked with the inner touch
My empathy will consume you
Like the bright obscene passion of my
Full poemed need for you
And we will be myths living
You are the one water
And I will be the one rod of sunlight
To enter you and twist like serpents
And in time’s lonely embrace
I will remeber our union
To bring you to the darkest moment of pleasure
And you will blush like a burning bush
In the flower of our heat, a world
Will be born, not unlike Mars or Pluto
We will terraform worlds
Like our sexual bliss moved our clay
And we will repeat the ritual
Like youthful months of our marriage.

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Titled Below and Unrated


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What Could a Woman Need

There is a context where we are skin
You and I, like hearts washed by
The same blood, the same pulse
Where we meet in romantic frenzy

And erotic paradigm, naked to each other
In love with the same things
Passionate, mutually arousing
It’s a palace of appreciation and lust

It’s a red dress in the hot city
It’s me taking it off of you, neatly
Backless and ready to feel
The garment of hope in moisture

And the want of choosing a body
To belong with, to fill with our own
Goddamned need and lovely burying
Of flesh into skin and human into earth
With clay, kisses and night hours.

Mozart in Autumn


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Mozart in November

If our stars align will our hips align
Our hips align with nature and delight?
For all facts of contact express a holistic truth
That entwined we are part of the same thing

We were derived from acts of love
And to that same source return
When we kiss, it’s an act of unity
Of tongues that once spoke so quickly

Now touch only to charm the morning
But fresh flesh, what of our soul’s dominion
Does our lust dictate a biological predominance?
If our stars align, why would our thighs?

Since we talk in bed about the rain
If you got on top of me would we
Rain together in the bliss of primitive selves
And find pleasure in the founts of our cells.

That You Belong to Poetry #amwriting #erotic #AppreciateAnAuthor


“You know an author is good, when they can afford you inspiration on all levels.”
– Wuji on the work of, the illustrious, EJ Koh

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That You Belong to Poetry

I want to map nudity as a concept
To dare to be vulnerable
To fumble telepathically

Against each other
Not forced but slow
Warm like uncovering morsels
Of electricity and find the right skin

The soul’s skin is kissableScreen Shot 04-05-15 at 05.53 PM
Enormously divine and watery
For this is our play and our poetry
In bodies and minds like blankets
I search for her warmth in her pain

The taunt Asian skin that ages so slowly
I want to slip beneath her lines
Go where I’m not strictly allowed

Since my finger search would
Lead me only to a kind of shelter
Where my hand is caught in an ocean
Where as wild beats we’d play hide and seek

Until the ends of time in new bodies
Then, I will, I promise I will transform
Every part of you into poetry
And you will die to your solitude without hesitation
Knowing on gut instinct the variety

Of pleasure I will be able to afford you
And before I hunt for you I will wait
For the briefest of time, for the

World to stop, so that our shared aroma
Might hang in the air for the cosmos to witness
Before the love-chase finds me
Studying you like a chimera

Or a golden suitcase that floats
From city to city, novel to novel.

A Window Into your Soul #amwriting #poem #NationalPoetryMonth #eroticverse


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A Window Into your Soul

My dear, you take pleasure in the face
With a thirst I cherish of cherry grasping
And you are not dead yet, so I chew
On the heart of your chiselled femininity
Where I want to wet your lips

With all the water of the meadows
And drown in the melodies of your tongue
And elevate your heart-rate with
The kiss that can intoxicate from deep down
And I will stumble O’ so dizzy

Into your heart like a green room spinning
And then our veins will hum in sweet-madness
And the fire that burns inside of you
Will erupt in a soft gold glowing
Of all the sunsets we ever wanted to drink

And your skin will explode with my
Deep throbbing, and we will gesture
At the universe together in sweet knowing
Our time here is precious and our
Pleasures are on the same journey

So taste the wonder with me
Taste it like a window to your soul
I want to hear your grateful surrender
And feel your body quiver
Never minding the naked protocol

Of how our appetites work best for each other
Or how our hunger is a broken rule.

A Sensitive Man #amwriting #poem #micropoetry #erotic


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A Sensitive Man

I love the April rain
And your soft little moans behind
Behind where my wandering hands
Felt the cool embrace of tomorrow
I like the encore of our sweet thrills
These encounters we repeat

In different seasons, with the same bodies
You taught me a rhythm of your blood
Where you squirm in secrets
And behind your eyes
I can predict the pleasure

Of your hidden chambers
Where your soul invites me
To walk along those corridors
Where lust might turn to love
And like May flowers, you might become

The secret I craved to discover
That a touch can save your life!
Kissing like this is frankly
Kicking death in the ass while singing
And like a window to your soul
I only want to make love with you.

Touch Was Here  #erotic #amwriting #poem #micropoetry


 

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Touch Was Here 

I like your body when it is with my
Body, it is certain to be pleased
Not just sensually, but spiritually

It is quite a lesson to lie like this
With bread crumbs for big eyes
And spring for firm-smooth skin

And trembling gold of Taiwanese fragrance
The ocean parting in your flesh
And a thrill of being like a virgin again
Without orgasms, not in it for cheap howls
But the lust of a more tender unity

Not lust, more like magic butter caressing
Like oxytocin on steroids, feeling
It’s killing time with a stranger

And finding a soul-mate in the crowd
Taking them to bet to part those sheets
Like holy waters of our love
And we pray together in the heat
Like a born again believer

And in the healing of eroticism
We find a basic means of self-knowledge
Where a clitoris is as indispensable as poetry
And silence is preferable when our bodies talk.

There’s a Willdness


31

The Living Things

There’s music in your body
Trapped, without instrument
Like a trombone begging to be played
Your mouth is putting me on
Like a flower,

That fits with petals of silver hung
Dimples peach to lavender
Your taught skin of crescent
Thrush with the power nature made in you
Lush like there is no tomorrow

Only youth, only today
I can’t be the power of her beauty
She’s by herself, trapped
A lure, a kite, a sound travelling
A body of moonesque dampness

Biology trapped in a poetic setting
With sentiment, of all of evolution
There’s music in your body
Flute, your breast heave another sigh
As if your entire heart

Is waiting to be reached
So beating hearts can lead to new beginnings.

Congress of Red Mouths


37

We were all lovers
At one point or another
We all met behind ruins
And stared at flowers in eyes

And briefly became somebody else
In the unity of our flames
Our desires burned like youth
In our chests and leaped

Like breasts unearthed and dreams
Plundered and fantasies enacted
We were lovers to someone
And we gave our hearts, and cheated

And in the hot ovens of our exploration
We came upon beauty and nudity
And clasped the sweet merchants
Of sex, at some point or another

A history full of poems and lyrics
Of ancient knowing, instinct even
We were handsome bastards
And luxurious ladies, we were

The landscape of bosoms and blossoms
And it was fun, and easy to find
A richness in the company of gender
Flirtation with ecstasy boasting bitten

And unpairing passion like a fruit
The most natural fruit to be eaten
And tasted and treasured forever
The foreign district of erotic tongues.

These Natural acts


2

The sun and its hammer
The light, bathes the Earth
Not unlike, how I enter you

Natural, visiting your gardens
Like an eclipse of our relationship
That is never ending

And will continue in countless
Females and males, two parts to the key
Of creation, vivacity of moments

We enter a drop of water
To form a precious bond
We transform from individuals

To couples, like a point of abandoning
The futility of being alone
This naked embraces celebrates that

The rain and its festivity
The flood, erases the messiness
Not unlike, how our sexual sharing

Eradicates poor romantic memories
Creating another layer
Of love to the feast of life

This spiral of hours leads to this
The world half-opened on the branch
Of spring, the you and me

That is so meaningful in the end
And salient to evolution
A muffled drum of the blood

The gift from our ancestors
We continue their rites like
Kissing or touching

With hardly a thought
We simply follow our nature.

I Seal Your Sex


1

My day exploded in your night
And my letters came to life
In your bed, all the poems
In my heart took shape their
In the undressing of our lives

Silently we approached
The hour of the Goddess
And all my dreams
Of platinum literature
Took root in the tree of your womb

I open the lips of your night
Without speaking, but with
A lifetime of poetry carried
In my soul, like golden grapes
I give to you the shadows of the moon

The whiteness of infinity
Your rose burns through the snow
Your flesh dangerously close
To the dawn, and we repeat
The cycle eternally

Male and female, active and passive
Lovingly with all the sleep
And literature and art in our bones.

Prolific


114

in fragile moments of time
there are these rumours of lust
between us, like dipping dusty shelves

with a naked smelling good book
suggestive that we validate each other
like a good story, or a whirled love-affair
there are sultry octaves sweating
between us, beneath the surface

a melody of aberrant kisses that
could swell the shady members
of our bodies like candles and the night

I’m not shy of your erotic tendencies
it’s all perfectly natural I’m sure
why my eyes veer towards your well-rounded
lotus shape, or how you flirt with me
without meaning to, on some level of appetite

of whims of girlish pride, it’s all
the wet whistles between us
the candy-marinated lullaby

and chocolate dreams for fools like us
who have nothing better to ponder
whose lives are glass figures of fragile
promises, swirling vows, eager amusements
youth still has her eyed locked on us I guess

a humid culmination to the loneliness
a rebellion to getting older, our bodies
make secret plans, primed to each other

like biology dipped with inner thirst
a revelation of the flesh and her
prolific ways, these physical polarities
the palpable prophecy of pleasure
that yearns like an unspoken cross-examination.

115

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Suffuse-486295442

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Michelle-III-486300403

whispering the unsung sex


35

the wild flowers know where it begins
a sweet resistance of eyes
that melts where love drips

behind the petals of hushed uncertainties
where our bodies flower for a while
intoxicated spirits meet like
dragonflies, with no hiding places

not found out by our passion’s wick
where burns a slow peace to drink
pleasure on the burning stove

of youth’s dripping with ecstasy
our hot and quickening breaths not meek
with heated tongues for blessing’s approval
where destiny might mesh

softness and hardness, begging for
a chance to be loved again
and kisses that stray from the lips

slow rhythms that mount for comfort
the comfort of the moment, in the dark
full of an insistent guide to gasp
the smiling of our bodies in a stroke

to dance in erotic foreign substance
this first time, to climax together and release
with an ease of laughter and the heart’s reply

that’s the taste of beloved skin
a secret reinforcement that started
when your dress came off like the crescent moon
only to sigh for and listen for signs of entry

to the perfect palace where all secrets
come and go, that first press of the star
of our sex, whispering a song so ancient

it stings, with thin resistance weak
too tired to ache, to loving to ignore
our bodies border fingertips of young love
the union of our spirits the fruit we make.

Taipei 101 Nightscape


103

Taipei, all the way to New York
I can feel the distance, getting close
All I thought about on the airplane

Was the way you tasted, teasing me
With skin of golden canvases
And eyes for Art and pleasing beings
In the Twilight of your erotic submission

There is a plumbing of fireworks
That grinds to a festive halt
For years of wanting to be held

Flowing in greater complexity of intimacy
A thrill of flesh ripened to sweat
And orgasms wrapped around lost years
I can feel the boundaries, begin to fade

Sometimes, I think you want me to touch you
How can I, when my lust is fueled by
The stimulated use of your careful independence

An exotic foreigner, your lips hold secrets
I promise to never tell, as long as you share them
With me, and let me speak in tongues
Over your body bare of everything

But tattoos of Mandarin idioms
Where your black hair burns
Shivering in the unimaginable pleasure
Of your hot virginity melting

Beneath my icecaps, your cheery fields
Hoping the continents could squirm together
To burn the Earth like skin
For just one hot moment at its core.

“I can feel the distance getting close
You’re right next to me
But I need an airplane” – Tori Amos

Song background: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYvslanGwow

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Taipei-409855888

My Little Hentai


21
The way we move is freestyle
We are lyrical in our hands-held
Our bodies touch spiritually!

We are a coming together
Of natural opposites
I am hard and heavy

You are wet and light
My hands mould to your
Curves, with iron-quickness

Sending quivers through your spine
Our art is holy love-making
Your breasts know my palms

Like midnight friends, in a field
Where we play in our shared bed
Our talent is in rocking

We craft our own bed-tricks
Like hungry composers of the night
For what we do is our shared ecstasy

And I am not inspired to finish
What you inspire so easily in me
But I invest years in the craft

Of knowing how to please your body
As if it were an extension of your spirit
I kiss you repeatedly until

You are all wet, like a cell ready
To find its collective destination
The way we move is freestyle

Our lips dance upon the tip
Of the moment, our flesh trickling
With the urgency of loving blood

That wraps itself around so tenderly
Like a baby-haiku, our hips meet
For the remedy, of an embattled day

Photo Courtesy: http://vitaly-sokol.deviantart.com/art/Art-Of-Sunrays-422571353

The America of Her Body


30

He travels slowly down his
Lover’s body, she is passive as
An angel waiting to turn human

They are dancing in body-talking
She swells to meet him arching
Her back, her navel, her harmonious

Chime of thighs, once winged
He tells her she is his Delphic oracle
To fill his ear full of sweet nothings

Those chosen pearls of hers do swell
They, intoxicated wait for the pulse
Of joy in earthly motions, those tongues

That dwell, on a boundless sea of successful
Unity, they scattered their dearest cries
Like an alchemy of flattered death

That strange hands and lips would not deny
Those kisses she and he know best –
He travels sweetly in her soul of gold

Through her moisture to the other side
She warms to a hot liquid of clay molding
Her form into mortal awareness, at last

With two bloods mingling gently as one
With no sin, no shame, no inhibition left
The marriage is a temple; the feast divine

Free license to all roving art, from behind
Before, above, between, below, a new-found discovery!

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/–409074243

Prologue to a Lifetime of Seduction


29

I cannot remember her face
She was my biology teacher at eighteen
With the tense wait of seduction
In her limbs, the feast on youth

Through golden binoculars
I used to sit, looking at the
Golden chain near her blonde hair
And everything around her

Used to burst into song
At the end of an avenue
Was her smile, I know she was kindness
Her body the buttons of immature eyes

Like blind fingers vaguely aroused
By a feminine voice, like a soldier’s
Last memory of love, before war
I cannot remember her face

The lion of her Madonna of stealth
That lifted my erogenous Genesis
To a good-natured grin, the touch
Of a fragrance that could only mean

Celebration, a great rose of a nipple
That my adolescence could only imagine.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/arch-412281192

The Pink Swan of Pleasure


1

This night, I sit at vigil with desire
Remembering your love-cries that echoes
In my solar cavity, when we
Danced in the sea of pleasure
Bathing in the primal soup of full measures
And deft openings, where

The world became the purest joy
And our hearts trembled with excitement
Our eyes spoke then with our enflamed parts
And our bodies were tied in a worldly embrace
You sat on me like a fortunate lover
Smiling with all of your body, a cellular delight

And we revised how to kiss, and how to
Surrender ourselves to the fury of physical love
Sighing and dying, we wooed a lover’s destiny
There and then, back into our lives
Breathless and worn out, only morning could end
With her white light, the laughter
Of how we knew ourselves, in each other.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Dreamcatcher-403990395

Your Weight Settles in Me like Darkness


59

Every time I am next to you
I feel the inches between us
Like miles on the magnetic compass
You are the valley, I am the mountain

As if I’ve always watched you
But could never see into your depths
You tell me your secrets
Your gaze sharpens naked on mine
*
Restless for the pounce, to thread
Through shadows, you want me
To desire you, you tense that I follow you
My muscles shake as I stroll

Near the arch of your hips
My arousal invades your space
Of down turned eyes and that tear
At the stroke of a heart-beat

Every time I am near you
You feel the weight of my presence
Like an invisible thread connecting
My navel with yours, my manliness with
*
Your womb, some sundown fantasy
Of what makes attraction formidable
Every time I am near you
I must remember you already have a Master

There is an unspoken understanding
That we flush alone for each other.

Photography Credits: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Look-in-your-heart-376102764

You Oblige like Water


58

I have dove into you
Right out of heart-break
You say it hurts but that

The pleasure is more than the pain
You are my purple fantasy
In real color, my vibrant life

Passing before me like brush-strokes
Of unconditional thirst
My mouth smiles each night

I have dove into you
Your tongue on my ear
I become tuned from the inside

We tumble together as if under-water
My fingertips brush against your
Whimpering skin of fresh surrender

We warp our limbs around each other
So tightly it makes the world right
Just for a lucid moment of dream

I have dove into you
With stellar whispers of forever.

Photography Credits: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Relax-Under-Water-By-Fly10-d675l4u-376226152

Intensity Enflames Me


57

I am begging inside for the sight of you
What I cannot touch, overwhelms me
I have been snared by your modesty
The gleam in your eyes scolds me

For something I have yet to do
My power is being taken by your
Seduction of coiled hidden intensity
My hard memory of our secret talks

Gives me chills in many layers of my chest
My thoughts are reflections of your trembling
Your pleas are my limits of graceful union
Our pleasure is a portfolio of lucid instinct

A frenzy of the distance between language
You are wet for the unknown steamy union
Of my firm manipulation of your arousal
A drift and swirl you from the inside

Drenched in the salty sweat of our synchronized fluidity
An aroma of citrus and lime, fragrant femininity
Washed by the ripples of your aquamarine yearning.

Photography Credit: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/cathi-28-376103370

Only to Hear you Cry for Mercy


56

Your lips flood me with first feelings
A cool breeze to our hot summer
To abandon uncertainties in you
Like the first kiss of the wind-flower

Your shy smile is slippery to my heart
I want to probe your inches & secrets
The hot quickening breath of awakened desire
To drink the wine of forbidden lusts

Then intoxicated will I move
Around your fresh foreign body
And slip between the resting places
In a kama-sutra of spring-summer romance

Your lips remind me of why I am young
Begging for an erotic ceremony
Between my fiery body and your open flower
The juices run clean down the stem

Like sap from the most feverish nectar
Your womb the resting place of dreams
Hunger has revealed itself in your moist places
You arch your body to meet my ecstasy

In the comfort of new shared skin
I stroke your glowing bottom-body
A slow rhythm of perfect entanglement
Each giving each other the foreign substance

Of material delight, I lose control in you
Forcing my way to your ember-bliss
I crush you with my weight and thrusts
That you might feel the Earth press above you

You are my heaven-flower in full bloom
A womanhood of beloved proportions.

Photography Credits: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/clic-376109803

O Like a Fire That Flickers for the Fairer Sex


I think of women on
Hot extravagant afternoons
Words from the Earth, my little bread
The water of centuries picked clean
I let the red ink of these prerequisite passages

Settle in me, their earthy wisdom
Like a masseur’s warm open hand
Their expert flirtation of
Psychology and innate fastidious ‘performance’
I think of women on

Cool nights that restore my pulse
I listen to them too much
To hasten to their self-same torments
I’ve heard all of their complaints
On the tipsy tip-toes of poetry

I did nothing to provoke them
My goldenrod of spilled yellow friendship
I am a living animal, in their presence
An outlawed sign-language of my desire
They read on their unmenacing lips

A sour frantic belonging of their value
I think of women on
Mornings of the shrewdest plans
They are instrumental to my cathedral-abundance
I’ve become too good at giving & giving-in

And now a most savage dog
I think of women on the way here, or there
After-hours rain downs my familiarity
I think of women like naming the planets
Pirates of my soul’s bleeding kisses

Whimper, silly, hush, flood, hot-flashed
I think of women and their sweet roar
Sweat, push, pull, sign, moan, hush.

Her Veils are White as Snow


98

My resurrection is a sensitive process
Like a bee-line of women, as symbols
Of the remuneration of my destiny
I want their food, their shelter

Their fragrance, not as significant
Of what I might hoard, or plunder
But of a banquet of trade
That I might have something enriching to offer

O blasphemy is love’s ecstatic fire
I am reckless with the reality of it
Smoothing and apple-green
What in their skin could possibly redeem me?

It’s an illusion of the material world
I’m sure of it, flowers on the water
Lotus bud in the air, I stare past mirrors & windows
Back to nature, back to God

I am clothed in sensual clothing
My resurrection is a taboo exploration
Like a woman’s body that has never been fondled properly.

Photography Credits: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Youthful-heart-373919675

Morning Breaker


Dawn breaks amid desperate acts
The cries of loneliness
Gone are the flowers of poetry

Survival beckons in love-making
The bohemian morning
At Nature’s lips

Her pussy lips fall into place
Before the sun’s large eyes
Cries glory on the bed

Morning, like an upturned gem
Smiling out the door
Someone whispers goodbye to me

My heart is firm with reverence
For the woman who let me into her bed
Slow is the drip of hope

Safe is the faith of loving
Like a hunger and a satiety
That always returns to the same bowl.

Hunting Athena


I’ve listened to you
Like the sound of
A window opening
At the apex of Spring

I smelled your fragrances
Like your body that craved to be touched
I’ve listened for your whispers
Like the sound of the Sea

There are dunes where your
Breasts begin, and your nipples finish
I drive the boat of dreams
I listen for the sound of your

Quiet and faster breathing
I carried your longing in my loins
To capture the heart of your claim
To make art, in small beginnings

To summon the roar of summer
You took me into your bed
With the clamour of our hearts
We made old music, begin again

I’ve listened to you
Like a harp of ancient times
Night is growing a storm’s touch
In your embrace, at midnight.

Song of These Last Encounters


I have lost self to love
Permanently, now by this heart
Furled, in primitive ecstasy
My relationship with the world
Is now a suppliant violin’s moan

That drags itself to dovelet cooing
These moments are lucid gifts
Of touching and nearing
The broad brightness where self is forgotten
Pain lurking in an unknown smile

I have lost the bravery of battle
Against this harsher world
I have only whispered steps enshrined
Left to twist my path, a needlework
Of rustling greenery, I am not real

Life’s touch is an unflinching desire
I follow her narrow canal to the light
There I will consent to rest my head
On your womb, enter you heartlose on the scale
With lots of luck, songs of last encounters

I have lost self to love, cast adrift
In one-night stands of the dark house
Where lovers whisper “come die with me!”

Like Wine from Dismembered Springs of Long Ago


There is wisdom in, spring’s root
Buds of this quivering soul
The night is not couple
It is not loving, it’s
A widow with a body of lust
A ballet of squares
On lazy sunday summer evenings
The fumble of friendship
Till the underwear hits the floor
We hold hands, neither
Saying we are alone, or together
The night swoops in
Cut-throat, like always
Black ribbons flutter
Somewhere, between
My heart and my loins
It’s your hair, oval eyes
We share the sighs
There is ruthlessness, in spring’s buds
That clamour after color-gold
Mementos as heavy as the mesmerizing sun
The skin of spring’s unsuspecting vines.