Take me to Poems: Cooked

Poems: Raw



The photograph you sent


I cd almost feel
my tongue
licking hard
against your nipple
then tracing its wet
underside down
the deep valley
shaded by your breasts
and I cd feel
your skin pressing
back against my tongue
as I stopped to lift
your tits
one by one
up to my lips
into a warm wet waiting
mouth
and I cd feel you move
your fingers through my hair
as I sucked you
bit and pinched you
with my lips and teeth and tongue
as I tasted with my heart
and eyes the photograph you sent



You always you


you always you
in my head in
my heart in my
pulsing blood
the touch of you
taste of you smell
of you your lips
around my cock
the sound of you
sucking and licking
and moaning with
the rising heat in you
eyes half-lidded leering
up at me


you always you
as my tongue
rounds your
nipples and teeth
closing lightly to
nibble pinching
with my lips to
lick and kiss
arousing you
to the trembling
edge of your
pleasure you
as my tongue
tastes your pussy
tracing a ring
round your bud
urging it up
and down into
your sweet deep
valley plunging
my tongue into you



Girl, you


Girl, you make me fly
farther and lower
than a magi at the
moment the
guttering candle flame
snaps in two
licks its flamy lips.


Girl, you make me
Say --
Once upon a time
it was a cold
who seed the sun
was a rumor
like
the good wife,
the sweet life.

Dark, smouldering
that cave
Me soaring condor
scanning glide
cutting up
the current into
softer waves for the
companion birds.


Girl, you gotta
think no feel
no think o feel
this thing here
hard and easy
two ways
sliding together

should me or you or
anyone try to
say what or
why this is
please
show the door
some respect on
passing thru
on closing.



hot pearl


pearl
hot.


maybe i can bathe you


sponge the drops



let's talk about how much
i like legs
toes damp i need a sexual
teasing dressed in
to kill a mockingbird insincere


Too beyond it to care if
he was with her or
where they did it last
you turn your back on him

his mumbling love talk
her squawk


Talk is overvalued said over
his whisky cocktail

the bad man soon to be
anointed
let everyone imagine how far
youth strays from
pure adulterated lust
like you dream
about just sucks up
every


last


drop.



Red Flags in Tatters


I waved a red flag in the midnight hour
and only the astrologer,
an astrolabe spinning on the flesh of her
outstretched finger,
turned her cosmic head my way.
But, hey, it was dark.
I really didn't expect an angry mob,
a Nobel Prize or a tax refund.
I did it for love, well, sex really, no, well,
to be completely truthful, it was to keep warm.
When I felt myself soaring up toward Taurus,
your words came back to me, and you were saying,
"Merlin is my master, my guide to our past lives,
and I felt myself falling, falling, falling
from atop the Spanish wall, down, down in my final fall,
and then it was I knew just who I really was..."
I wish I knew. I think I can. Once upon
a memory I stood there with a red flag in my hand.
In the midnight under starlight in a dreamtime without end.



Sex is breath


Sex is breath, caught like a bird
in a vortex, winding to earth.

All words aside now, you dance
naked as birth, wet and wanton as
death at my back whistling "Taps."

Love binds us with straps and bells.

The night dissolves in a vapor brewed
of tears, falling stars, whispered lies,
years and years of cold stares.
Like dice
their crystalline emissaries tumble
through the mist, click their faces,
familiar as a kiss, a moment before
they speak