POETRY - Can you write a Poem?

[Craiger]

Re: A Swelling (Poem)

A Swelling

Lie back against the swaying reeds
(a mimicry of your form) and sigh:
A perfect ‘Y’
against a languorous, lucky sky.

Tease the dandelion, pick;
your fingers slick
with vital ooze.

Speed the seedlings softly, quick;
spread them thick
and shine your shoes.

Since the poem is titled "A Swelling", I find the imagery of the first stanza as referring to ones penis likened to a reed and the "Y" to the crotch area. The next two stanzas complete the action of the swelling.

Craiger

 

[Lefty]

No time for epics now...so shorts
__________________________

The loudest scream
In the blackest dream
it went unheard
even a single word
A desperate call
From the deepest pall
but not one word
Was really heard
In the very last dream
or in its scream
____________________



The faint Sparks of joy

lit the candles of hope

They gave a boy

Some help to cope

But his very last toy

Was the end of a rope

The end of the boy
______________________

I face you now oh lord of death
Your fetid odor on my breath

My lungs let forth a railing gasp
My voice so raw I scarcely rasp

The shaking hands and aching hips
Festering sores and putrid lips

Take me now I've come undone
You're not my friend but still you've won

Not much left of me I would miss
Grant me now your good night kiss

To those beloved I leave behind
My goal was never to be unkind

Hold only good thoughts to your head
That I may be gone... but never dead..
______________________________

Enough for now?

 

[DonQuixote]

My poor Leftykins,
So Morose,
I'm off with the family,
leaving him bellicose.

Have no fear,
Lefty dear,
I hear you,
Loud and Clear.

'Tis late, I fear,
but, my soul
you did sear.

 

[Hot4Latinos]

My favorite poems to write are pantoums. Here are a few of mine:

Love is…

The Hanged Man from the flowering tree
Bella donna
I’m there somewhere
In a white room with no windows.

Bella donna
Ghost and dream
In a white room with no windows
In the archives of you

Ghost and dream
Gin and regret
In the archives of you
In the borrowed text

Gin and regret
I’m there somewhere
In the borrowed text
The Hanged Man from the flowering tree.

 
Hyacinth Thinking Boy Thoughts

You were Ganymede standing in the kitchen
pacing, barefoot, across the floor.
You were Hyacinth thinking boy thoughts
your face candlelit as you slept beside me.

Pacing, barefoot, across the floor
you were Ameinias drinking margaritas;
your face candlelit as you slept beside me,
wearing a shirt you bought in France.

You were Ameinias drinking margaritas.
Some game we played now tucked away.
Wearing a shirt you bought in France,
you were Narcissus brushing his teeth.

Some game we played now tucked away,
you were Hyacinth thinking boy thoughts,
wearing a shirt you bought in France.
You were Ganymede standing in the kitchen.

 
1 A.M. in Paris

So you’re in Paris
It’s 1 AM
He’s sleeping beside you
Oblivious to the sound of your heart beating

It’s 1 AM
You’re lying in his bed
Oblivious to the sound of your heart beating
The damage is done

You’re lying in his bed
And he won’t ask for more
The damage is done
Sex is suicide

And he won’t ask for more
He’s sleeping beside you
Sex is suicide
So you’re in Paris.

 
Trigger Happy

It’s one of those days
you wish you had a gun
locked and loaded
and trigger happy.

You wish you had a gun.
On the wrong side of the bed
and trigger happy.
Some porn-inspired neurotic.

On the wrong side of the bed
where beauty escaped me;
some porn-inspired neurotic,
some sun-drenched boy disappearing

Where beauty escaped me
locked and loaded.
Some sun-drenched boy disappearing.
It’s one of those days.


Sunflowers

Sunflowers and your face
fascinate me
and I come calling after you
You’re the winner

Fascinate me
Like some Christmas angel
You’re the winner
Don’t blame me

Like some Christmas angel
If you were wiser you would get out
Don’t blame me
Blue, green, violet and blue

If you were wiser you would get out
And I come calling after you
Blue, green, violet and blue
Sunflowers and your face

 

[Whipped]

Learning How To Cowboy

Chad's sexy ass in skintight Wrangs is sore
and raw from being whipped ten times a day
because he did not do better what he's told
to do by Ron who's training him. This poor
young man has dreams of learning cowboy skills,
then work on ranches where bulls and stallions are
on the list of workplace dangers deemed as core
but daily tasks cowboys do. Their wills
are strong to master animals that could
either maim or kill them and keep a cowboy's prong
rock hard while from its slit his jism spills.
This handsome, virile Chad knows but one word: "should."
He will not give up even if the learning's long.

 

[Whipped]

For Texas Cowboy and Jake - A Sonnet

They make a perfect pair: TC and Jake.
TC, slightly taller, weighs just a few pounds more,
but both are slight, have tightly muscled frames
that packed in skintight Wrangs cause men to take
a second, third look at beauty seldom seen:
their faces framed in crack length hair that shines
from frequent baths to keep their bodies cool.
The whipmarks on their backs and butts men take to mean
they bravely ride wild bulls and sometimes do not place.
They have a love that is so deep and strong
no one could come between this love they share.
Men marvel how it is they show no trace
of jealousy although they live and work along-
side sexy men. It's for each other that they care.

 

[Whipped]

Retribution: A Sonnet

The talk while we're away is all about TC:
How cute his ass is framed in skintight Wrangs,
how long and hard his cock is: Is it partly fake?
And his cute ass. Fake too? We'll have to see.
So when a horse tosses him into the muck,
we'll lasso him and drag him to a tap,
and then peel down his chaps and Wrangs.
If his cock is what it seems, then we'll be stuck
unless we cut his dangler off - which we won't try.
Or cage that cock, those balls, so he can't fuck.
Or hire a group of horny guys who'll fuck, then whip
him three dozen times a day. His cum'd fly
into his Wrangs and stink them up he'd be so stuck
with cum, who'd want him? Shall we try?

 

[Whipped]

Texas Cowboy's One Love: A Sonnet

He's flipped into the air and crashes on his ass
into the soup of shit and piss. His Wrangs are soaked
and ride deep into his crack, a sexy sight.
And when he stands, his cock is in the class
EXTREMELY HUGE and with big balls to match.
And those who pay TC to tame their horse
and live alone weekdays have a great need
TC's crotch could fill. They try quuite hard to catch
the notice of his rock hard ten-inch cock
that tries to burst the zipper of the Wrangs
that cage his dick and balls and fuels lust.
His crotch and two-apple ass are what they talk
about. And in their steamy talk they show few pangs
of guilt. But TC's thinking of his Jake's deep trust.

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

those are really Cool Whipped

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

Today's Trash: Tijuana Toilet Tramp Tale

Tijuana Toilet Tramp
(Part III of "Pee")
by Bruce Wade Shihooz

He had hair like River Phoenix back in 1989
He stepped up to the urinal
The one right next to mine
He wuz tall and cool and dreamy and
He let me watch him pee
And I decided then and there
I would wave my usual fee


Now i LIE IN BED and think of him
sometimes my unit leaks
as I dream of HIM
Inside the stall of sleep

 

[elGeniuoso1721]

If everyone is sayin' that they the ones on top,
How you supposed to know who really has the spot?
Shinin' like the sun on they heads is a crown
But the jewels are transparent, just pass it around
And see the reflection of a tortured soul,
Your heart is still young but your body is old
And weary, eyes kinda teary, with a face so dreary
As you ask, where has the time gone?

...A little something I wrote last year.

 

[Lefty]

Good Z.

But I like your stories better...............wondered what had happened

to you. \glad all is okay.

 

[Lefty]

The Tzu Tzu
He Never Knew


The hard hewn door
creepily opens
Rusted hinges emitting long
unoiled moans

The eerie screeching plies on
tortured ears
through the swirling mists and
unshed tears.




The gasping battered lungs
wheeze with pain
shuttering a heart that still
throbs in vain

The gut twisting realities of those
tiny lies
exulting purple steeps in emotions of
lusting sighs




The joyful eves and mornings bliss with
your boy whore
those are just memories I will hold for
ever more

This final slam of my wormwood portal
of pleasure
I tell myself therein is still so much
to treasure





The adulation once given freely is ripped
asunder
Part of me you sought to own and failed
to plunder

The tortuous and greedy clinging vine
growing grapes
shriveled black by the false embraces
more like rapes





I have awakend to a wan fresh light and you've
missed your goal
total ownership of this man childs total mind but
missed my soul.



This one is a bit different for me...
I trade you horses Gus...I can't
hang mine on your wall...it comes
from the heart........
aw fuckypooh
its a hallmark
written for you
to lighten the dark.

 

[Lefty]

those aren't just some old songs
wafting up from smoking bongs

they aren't just memories for me
of the days when I ran free

buried now deep in my tangled mind
innocence left behind

tattoos etched upon the well worn skin
that encases my out worn heart

Tissues for the tears I held inside
quiet ones I never cried

Clear Mountain lakes and valley streams
cleansing cloths for tarnished dreams

I have a need to sing anew some old songs
try to write some ancient wrongs.






So, if anybody actually reads these things...


Right burns...Left Learns

Oh my phucking Ehs...
what the damn word says
really is not oblique
if one dares to look and peek
there's answers I meant to sneak
past all the ones I let you seek
my last donation for the cause...
my gift to all is in the pause.

 

[DonQuixote]

Zorro,
That was quite an interesting little ditty.

Lefty, you are waxing quite eloquent,
Your time has well been spent.


For all you folk who like to rhyme,
I invite you to spend a little time
At Lefty's Place,
A Leftover's Thread -

Never fear, there's nothing to dread.
The page of note, for you to pursue
is 27, at the top,
it's no big to do.

But there's a great story in a few words
and a might pic . . .
This "ain't no schtick"

http://www.justusboys.com/forum/showthread.php?t=334433&page=27

 

[yawgrimas]

Just a couple poems I've thrown together, not very good ones mind, but just some work .


When I think of you
I hurt inside
When I see you
it hurts my eyes

My heart it ruptures
when I forget
after junctures
we seperate

My eyes are blinded
but can still see
we are crowded
and fail to be

Together we stand
in an embrace
I'll play the bland
You are the spice

When I look at stars
and see beyond
what is so far
and feel the bond





Haiku

Unexpected kiss,
An interesting moment
of new year's eve bliss.

Windmills on the broken horizon
Razorblades cutting sky
Travelling under stolen mizen
Maybe when we learn to fly
dancing in the fading moonlight
sparkling needles float on by
tumbling upon shattered height
there is no pause to realise
I was wrong and you right
I didn't take the advise
Perhaps when I am older
Hopefully the time will arise
to fix files and close the folder

Looking through the window
I see all thats wrong with life
You dont feature in that show
when we embrace it ends strife
to long to hold you in my arms
coming together, sheath and knife
Even when I refuse to hear alarms
I let you in and bare my heart
for one cannot resist the charms
and slowly as we drift apart
the moment of passing bliss
I feel linger as you depart
I am left alone, to reminisce

 

[Whipped]

Birthday Poem for Dean

BIRTHDAY POEM FOR DEAN

Asleep in his sleeping porch bed,
Dean's big toe is roped like a steer
and he's hauled bare-assed
to a waiting horse that is near
and taken at once to the post
where cowboys are whipped
when they've been lazy or bad
(after their Wrangs have been stripped
off their asses and crotches)
or when they're a year older and are
birthday bullwhipped. The lashes
then laid on their asses are par
to their age along with one more
to grow on. Once bullwhipped,
they're not whipped any more
for that day. Nor are they stripped
of their Wrangs to show off the marks
on their asses. Once Dean had dressed,
a party was held with rodeo buds.
And among several gifts he was pressed
with was a buckle eight and a half inches
tall and eleven wide that TC had won
but was now to be worn by Dean
until decades from now his life had been run.
As part of the party, the guests next held
a rodeo and Dean asked to be whipped
though he need not since he'd been
at the dawn. And as the rope was slipped
round his wrists, his excited cock grew
to its over ten inches in length
and the size of his wrist. And he took
the strokes with the very great strength
he always displays when his cute, sexy ass
is bullwhipped when he's been a "bad boy"
(very seldom) or to increase his skill
as a cowboy - something that fills him with joy.
Two other gifts that have filled him
with joy are from Ted and from Jake.
Ted will train him to be a bulldogging cowboy
and the latter has made him a beaufitul cake.

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

Just a couple poems I've thrown together, not very good ones mind, but just some work .


When I think of you
I hurt inside
When I see you
it hurts my eyes

My heart it ruptures
when I forget
after junctures
we seperate

My eyes are blinded
but can still see
we are crowded
and fail to be

Together we stand
in an embrace
I'll play the bland
You are the spice

When I look at stars
and see beyond
what is so far
and feel the bond





Haiku

Unexpected kiss,
An interesting moment
of new year's eve bliss.

Windmills on the broken horizon
Razorblades cutting sky
Travelling under stolen mizen
Maybe when we learn to fly
dancing in the fading moonlight
sparkling needles float on by
tumbling upon shattered height
there is no pause to realise
I was wrong and you right
I didn't take the advise
Perhaps when I am older
Hopefully the time will arise
to fix files and close the folder

Looking through the window
I see all thats wrong with life
You dont feature in that show
when we embrace it ends strife
to long to hold you in my arms
coming together, sheath and knife
Even when I refuse to hear alarms
I let you in and bare my heart
for one cannot resist the charms
and slowly as we drift apart
the moment of passing bliss
I feel linger as you depart
I am left alone, to reminisce

you've had a prolific outpouring...very nice reading L, I posted the poem you made me...
http://grungenofhorrors.blogspot.com/
Should I put your real name on it so all my horndog Twitter buds can find ya and show you their recent dick pics?

**puffs cigarette like a seasoned pro/coughs/chokes/hocks up loogie/spits**
God love em; they are a proud lot I must say/just ask Donny hehe

those aren't just some old songs
wafting up from smoking bongs

they aren't just memories for me
of the days when I ran free

buried now deep in my tangled mind
innocence left behind

tattoos etched upon the well worn skin
that encases my out worn heart

Tissues for the tears I held inside
quiet ones I never cried

Clear Mountain lakes and valley streams
cleansing cloths for tarnished dreams

I have a need to sing anew some old songs
try to write some ancient wrongs.






So, if anybody actually reads these things...


Right burns...Left Learns

Oh my phucking Ehs...
what the damn word says
really is not oblique
if one dares to look and peek
there's answers I meant to sneak
past all the ones I let you seek
my last donation for the cause...
my gift to all is in the pause.

you know very well we read this stuff! I ought to blister yer bare ass for suggesting otherwise!

and that's a fine piece of imagination hon, but you need not rewind or pause -- hit play Sir, hit play.

Zorro,
That was quite an interesting little ditty.

Lefty, you are waxing quite eloquent,
Your time has well been spent.


For all you folk who like to rhyme,
I invite you to spend a little time
At Lefty's Place,
A Leftover's Thread -

Never fear, there's nothing to dread.
The page of note, for you to pursue
is 27, at the top,
it's no big to do.

But there's a great story in a few words
and a might pic . . .
This "ain't no schtick"

http://www.justusboys.com/forum/showthread.php?t=334433&page=27

Aye, Zorro is a diddy maker delux...hugzU Z

I like links...they are easy to use and there's not a lot of code to remember or type

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

Where Wear and Tear Collide
(Part II of "Pee")
by Bruce Wade Shihooz

as you raised your head I saw the tears
and the tinfoil hat revealed your fear
but lessons got are never far
cause pain this deep will leave its scar

better this for what is not
some things said are best forgot
paste and pretty up each page
but in the end, what is saved
take a moment to look within
then tell us truly -- where you been?

 

[DonQuixote]

Good E'en, Gus,
How have you been?

Out tending the farm,
The Little Red Hen?
Or mayhaps a spider's silk
in the corner by Charlotte's Pen?