Afterglows
Moonlight filtering in through curtains,
to paint tangles of us spilled together,
the sways of her body humming in the afterglow.
I can barely move during the stuttering frames,
frail limbs and muscles collapsed near you.
Unable to leave with the cold knowledge
that desire can make extinguished wreckage
of what we both want.
Something beyond us binds two together,
promising that even though you would
keep us stitched in fiction,
we'll regenerate through each calculated touch,
through sparks of your eyes locked in conclusion.
The pauses between thunder and lightning combusting,
we'll close this dangerous divide.
I'm alone for now tonight,
watching explosions drizzling unstable
rainbows across the dark sky,
the flying, spilling colors each their
own constellation coming undone.
I can hardly move during the strobing afterglow.
With the knowledge that my skin
becomes a lie waiting to see you,
that we'll connect and come to believe it
will be enough to hold the coil together
just a little while longer.
But hushed names and fluttering
sighs know how to ink fiction.
How to calculate the way hands entwine in the dark,
the vows made when we're locked in conclusion,
in the pauses between joining and not
knowing how to let go.
We'll close this dangerous divide.
Not Always Forever
The crimson and orange sunset made me think of you
the waves crash against the shore, binding my memories
I’ve drawn two hearts in the sand, and linked them both together
but the waves washed them away, removing them from my sight
I fight to remember your face, your voice and laughter
A cool breeze comes from the north and I shout our your name
Yelling, screaming at the sky, but no one can hear me
do you know I’m looking for you, and that I’m so lost
It’s cold; I’m cold and the sun is going down once again
You always loved the beach, the warm sand between your toes
You’re here now, soaking up the sun and the ocean air
forever in paradise, drinking your pina coladas
Wait for me, I’ll join you there. I’m on my way to you
wear that sexy top, and save me a seat at the bar
I’ll meet you there, I’ll know your face and hear your laughter
The perfect place to start again, and renew our vows
Pain in my head, in my heart but it’s fading so fast
The door to peace, love and joy was so easy to find,
A new day, the sun is shining down and there you are
buy me a drink and we can stay on the beach, forever
I have three famous stories, 2 recommended reads and have come in the top ten in two competitions~ Come in and make yourself at home.
I’m just a pussy lickin' fool
and that ain't no braggart’s lie.
I love to lick your princess parts,
I love it when you sigh.
My mouth starts to salivate
when I see your funky stuff.
I’ll get all down and dirty
and go divin' in your muff.
I've been pleasing 'em this way
since I was seventeen.
My tongue has memorized the way
Betwixt twat and between.
All the ladies will tell ya
I excel at giving head.
I gently grab their ankles,
c'mon, spread 'em baby, spread.
I get what you might call
a clear and unobstructed view.
Your pussy lips will blossom,
and I’ll smell that snapper stew.
Then my lips get busy,
I like to start around mid-thigh,
and lick my way to heaven,
and smile to hear you sigh.
I lick you up, I lick you down,
I lick you sideways, all around.
My tongue has talent, you will scream,
lickin' right there is your fondest dream.
I can munch on you all night my love,
lick everything in reach,
I lick your taint, I lick your ass,
and I love to lick your peach.
Talk about titties all you want,
take pictures of them too,
but give me an invite to your cunt
And I’ll sure inspire you.
I hum that tune that turns you on,
now your juices are flowing,
your hips start bucking up and down,
to cunny town we’re goin’.
Your thighs will squeeze my ears in place
as my tongue lavishes on your sex.
When I’m through you’ll kiss my face
and write me out bad checks.
“It's nice sometimes to open up the heart a little and let some hurt come in. It proves you're still alive.”
Like an Argus-eyed poet, pinning oracles of sin
As the pendulum of the metronome 'tocked
In my ancient weathered queue
Devilishly aroused, with an instigator's brush
Of an embracing kind
With the rhythm of the ticking clock
Falling on my bleary circumference
Ensorcelled by a musing's kiss
With a serpentine's wish
And sensuality well defined
As if potpourri and a wafting aria
Of petals in the wind and poet's Saffron
In the evergreens of my mind
Like a shadow in the mist
Melting my tallow
As the ink in the well
Plays on my poetic scroll
As she reclines on the squab
In my ancient weathered queue
Like an Argus-eyed poet, pinning oracles of sin
One of my first poems posted here... Enjoy....
Time is drawing closer
Will eyes stay blinded by fear
Reality means full exposure
Second thoughts may appear
Ready to remove our masks
Once caused by distance
Too much love to leave this task
Undone in the hour of coexistence
Setting sail to where tangible meets fantasy
Will dreams wake to true faces
A bold plan, is it just fallacy
Excitement abounds as a heart races
Allow your true self to show
Were we just actors on stage
allowing lingering fallacy to grow
Oceans away, so hard to gauge
Many questions left to answer
Promises to be kept
Will there be smiles or rancor
Chances come, good fortune wept
So many late night interludes
Professions of love in variation
Knowing this stage was the prelude
To a full declaration.
One question please no lies
Need to know if you're
Hiding six inches between your thighs
If yes, heading for the door.
With the Lush costumes now history
Mutual satisfaction for all
Putting an end no mystery
Bells ring to destiny's call
(One that I couldn't be bothered to finish).
I cannot count the number of orders I have growled.
Nor, how many bruises I have had the pleasure of watching bloom.
How many cries, to stop, or not to stop, have I heard?
Let’s just say, as many as the number of stitches passed in a loom.
I am in demand.
I am adored.
I am in command.
I am loathed.
What is the fountainhead of my lament?
What else? A girl. But not just any girl.
No. She is different. Right down to her scent.
The very thought of her sets my mind awhirl.
She flirts. She’s coy. She dances in the rain.
She offers herself, then casually skirts out of my reach.
“I belong in your rope. I ache for your sweet pain.”
Perhaps, it’s all just a figure of speech.
She is well aware of the wounds she inflicts.
Each one cold, calculated, delivered with ease and expertise.
Then she weeps at the bounty of the cruelness she inflicts.
“I’m sorry sweet Sir.” Her lies are my disease.
I don't read poems much less write them.
Nawty
Old-School Days
I was in my car not far...
not far from New Brunswick,
between hither and thither,
down a dairy-dell road
and a Granny Smith orchard.
As I came across an old-line poet,
sitting in a straight back chair,
sucking on a lime and sipping tequila,
as he whittled me a song, sharing his hooch,
quoting an opinion from The View.
Saying to me, as he passed the lime,
"God spoke to me, whispering in my ear,
young women like ermine and rings
and rockers who sing on Friday nights,
while playing a five-string guitar."
Yes, he came from the old-school,
where women knit and baked,
played patty cake and Bridge after four,
while kissing their hubby
before he mowed the front lawn.
When he fell asleep and his eyes shut,
I saw the plectrum-picker laying on his chest
and a picture of a grayed-haired granny,
along with an apple core...
Miss Homeroom Queen, 1954.
A Winters Day
That winter's day was pure and white,
A nip of cold in morning’s light.
The chimney’s smoke was twisting high,
Reaching up to the grey blue sky.
It took me back to our faded youth,
A less complex time of trust and truth.
The days were long and filled with joy,
Our love was fresh, not brash and coy.
The still air was broken by icy chill,
Snowflakes falling on the window sill.
The journey was long, my trek complete,
It was now time to rest my weary feet.
I saw your cabin just up ahead.
A place of warmth to lay my head.
Now I was finally standing at your door.
My heart was full, but my love was more.
You welcomed me with glowing smile,
And invited me to stay awhile.
I lay with you, sprawled by the fire,
Your sensual touch ignited my desire.
Our bodies burning from lust and flame,
This union removed all the past and pain.
You moaned your pleasures in my ears.
Our song was sung through joyful tears.
We laughed and played like no time had past.
But our history showed we could never last.
My time was up and we knew I could not stay,
But I would always cherish this cold winter's day
I like this... a lot. I think your forte isn't love poems or erotic poems. Your writing style lends itself to a Gothic, somewhat grotesque poetry.
I have had a lyrical Goth in my head for over three weeks but hit a log jam/rut. If you would like to see it, PM me.
Al
Simply Red Confessions
Almost a year ago we met,
good friends we became,
conversations we exchanged,
admiring you in the distance.
Pleasantries between us
became our norm
Complimenting each other
but never more than that.
In a place of words,
statuses and appearances
are "Taken" just like you,
so I remained silent, until now.
A chat window appeared,
our cordialities where exchanged,
Until the words I longed to read
suddenly materialized upon my screen.
Frozen
is this happening?
Silent in the dark,
My heart palpitated.
How after all this time,
this is happening.
A prior conversation
with a friends came to mind.
The right person has not come along
this is what my friends said,
his words resonating in my mind
and now they made sense.
In darkness they came
our confessions on the screen.
to sleep I went in a daze
but the words felt just right
This will take time,
but we know
I belong to you,
and you belong to me.
This is a parody of The Beatles song "She Loves You" so it cannit be published on Lush because it infringes copyright. However I have been encouraged by Ruthie to post it here. It was written as a bit of fun, and I hope you enjoy it.
Please Fuck Me
Please fuck me, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yes fuck me, yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh fuck me, yeah, yeah, yeah
You think you lost your love,
Well it happens every day,
What were you thinking of
Sharing how you feel that way.
Whether you’re okay,
Or if you feel good or bad,
They're here to play,
And have great sex, not be sad.
You say you're hurting so
You almost lost your mind
And you want them all to know
Because you think they're kind.
They're only here to fuck,
And to satisfy their lust.
It's your bad luck
That you fill them with disgust, aah.
Please fuck me, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yes fuck me, yeah, yeah, yeah
Until your white hot cum
Spurts from your cock in me.
They say you are a fool
To think you'll find romance,
Just stroke your turgid tool
And join their erotic dance.
You know you want this,
Just to feel each burning spasm,
Enjoy the bliss
Of each exquisite orgasm, ooh.
Please fuck me, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yes fuck me, yeah, yeah, yeah
Until your white hot cum
Spurts from your cock in me.
That's all you need
You know you're feeling randy
Wank hard all day
And you will feel just dandy.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Why So Cunty?
By Ping
Every relationship has conditions...
I’m a fair going guy
Try to let bygones go by
But sometimes I have to say
What you’ve not said but done
Is neither fair or fun
Please tell me dear…
Why do you act so cunty?
Sometimes I like to assist
But then you get really pissed
And I feel like utter shit
I can’t read your mind
Search for words I can’t find
So, please tell me dear…
Why do you act so cunty?
Maybe what I'll do
Is fuck the brains out of you
Jam my dick in your ass and cunt
Will this shut your trap
If I stuff my cock in your gap
Please tell me dear…
If we fuck, will you stop acting so cunty?
My darling husband of mine
All that you mention if fine
I do enjoy a rough shag with you
Dear I’m not angry or pissed
But there’s something you’ve missed
Please do as you said…
And wash the god damned dishes.
2015-2016 Ping. All Rights Reserved. All stories are written by, and the 'soul' property of, Ping
and his real life alter-ego. No portion, in whole or part, can be borrowed, linked, or reproduced
without their expressed written consent. Thank you for your consideration.
Cursed Winds And Butterflies
When the toggle switch of life
Shut's down my gears
As hounds in the bogs howl
And my words come to ground
With a poetic ligature strangling my mind
While feeling a breath of cursed winds yowling
And webs in my noggin twine
Oh! how I wouldst scratch at the itch
Of a wayfaring bitch
On a parchment of everlasting binding
Between her breasts and her twat
As my penis oars in high tides
On a schooner's moon
And my words come to ground
With butterflies flying
On two-bits of cheers
When the toggle switch of life
Shut's down my gears
