Poetry competition CLOSED 28th December 2015 7:59am
WINNER
LobodeSanPedro
LobodeSanPedro
RUNNER-UP:
sinisterpenz
Lovely Shape
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poem that shows appreciation to the female form
write a poem wether if it's about one favorite body part of the female anatomy
( lips, butts, breasts, etc.) or about loving your curves and respecting your body.
~ both men and women are welcome to write about it
~ nothing too vulgar
~ has to be original
~ no disrespectful writes that are against curves or say anything negative about them
~ just one entry only
~ can be as long as you want it to be
~ keep it upbeat
{UPDATE!} : I have extended the competition to one more week because I want to see more entries so get to it!
( lips, butts, breasts, etc.) or about loving your curves and respecting your body.
~ both men and women are welcome to write about it
~ nothing too vulgar
~ has to be original
~ no disrespectful writes that are against curves or say anything negative about them
~ just one entry only
~ can be as long as you want it to be
~ keep it upbeat
{UPDATE!} : I have extended the competition to one more week because I want to see more entries so get to it!
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
IN PRAISE OF AMPLE FEMALE FIGURES
Though sylph-like forms are often favoured
Shapely legs by men are savoured
Sleek thighs, pert bum, slim hips and waist
Surround the object of men's lust
A shape, less bony, in a woman
Can better satisfy a man
Her hips more round and breasts so full
and sex with her more comfortable.
Such sensual sex is the norm
With the fuller body form
The round smooth curves of breast and tum
The soft embracing fulsome arm.
The ample bum and pubic mound,
The fleshy lips kisses abound
and best of all between her thighs
There will be a nice surprise '
')
(this is a slightly edited version of a poem I published on DU a couple of years ago)
Though sylph-like forms are often favoured
Shapely legs by men are savoured
Sleek thighs, pert bum, slim hips and waist
Surround the object of men's lust
A shape, less bony, in a woman
Can better satisfy a man
Her hips more round and breasts so full
and sex with her more comfortable.
Such sensual sex is the norm
With the fuller body form
The round smooth curves of breast and tum
The soft embracing fulsome arm.
The ample bum and pubic mound,
The fleshy lips kisses abound
and best of all between her thighs
There will be a nice surprise '
') (this is a slightly edited version of a poem I published on DU a couple of years ago)
Ivy
Her hair was as straight and red
As ironed ketchup
Too her waist and below
Insulting that color only found
In lush tropical rain forests
On the crests of rare birds
By cutting it?
Sacrilege
She wore it like a curtain
To keep out the sun
Her hair the only thing
That could hide the woman
In her curves
I could have lived and died
Nourished by the sight
And feel of her body
Rounded lower tummy that swayed
Into her belly button
That arched over rib cage
That landed in secluded
Rest in the shady underneath
Of her tits
Tits like two jiggling moons
That nodded in agreement
When she giggled
Her giggles tinkled like Wind chimes
And only came out on
Special occasions
And then the round of her ass
Shaped like an upside down Valentine
Dimple on her left cheek
As if her crack was grinning wide
Perhaps it was
Moved side to side when she
Walked like kittens under a cozy
Blanket
Eyes yellow green
Full of questions
Lips bee stung
And stained a color pink that only
Occurs while eating wild berries
And when that girl smiled
The whole world
Sighed
.:Badonkadonks (Booty’s, Butts, Asses & Behinds):.
don’t wanna be vulgar, don’t wanna be crass
don’t wanna "overtly" talk
trash about ass.
don’t wanna be harming
in efforts
thought charming
might be alarming
a cause for arming
but this is a cause for saying how I feel
cuz that butt of yours has curves
with appeal
butt, a lot can be false on paper and screen
photo shopped nicely if you know
what eye mean
thinkin it’s real, when actually a dream
BOTOX slowin clocks as the SAGGee-Nuss fiends
of course, what’s physical is cool, k’s not a fool
blessed wit GOOD judgment,
The Gold in
My Rule
so, we could Rock-out with my clock out forgetting about time
butt, when dumb is dumb
I gotta leave
"that"
behind
meaning
booty’s OK
butt, the KO is “Mind”
where-ass experiencing both
can be a real good
time
don’t wanna be vulgar, don’t wanna be crass
don’t wanna "overtly" talk
trash about ass.
don’t wanna be harming
in efforts
thought charming
might be alarming
a cause for arming
but this is a cause for saying how I feel
cuz that butt of yours has curves
with appeal
butt, a lot can be false on paper and screen
photo shopped nicely if you know
what eye mean
thinkin it’s real, when actually a dream
BOTOX slowin clocks as the SAGGee-Nuss fiends
of course, what’s physical is cool, k’s not a fool
blessed wit GOOD judgment,
The Gold in
My Rule
so, we could Rock-out with my clock out forgetting about time
butt, when dumb is dumb
I gotta leave
"that"
behind
meaning
booty’s OK
butt, the KO is “Mind”
where-ass experiencing both
can be a real good
time
http://orig07.deviantart.net/e1b8/f/2015/053/5/7/008___walkcycle___a_sexy_walk_by_gg_sign-d8j2qy2.gif
Sway of Your Hips
Her undulations are all together rhythmic and unpredictable at the same time
Men see her gentle sway and get lost in thoughts of passion and mystery
For they know her waves bring promises of things unknown and pleasure unbound
Her taste is primal and bittersweet
Refreshing and intoxicating
I would gladly surrender to her
We were born in her
Some say evolved from her
She dominates by her very presence
Because she is essential to our joy
Our fulfillment
Our life
The body one moment soft and warm
With ripples that reflect her sun kissed skin
But then stirred to the point where she is granite
Hardened in frosty despair still reflecting the sun but yielding none of it's warmth
Yet I still yearn for her
She is my lover
And when she calls I gladly heed the sounds of her moans and whispers
For once again I will drown in her
Only to find new life and meaning in the sunset off the horizon
Sway of Your Hips
Her undulations are all together rhythmic and unpredictable at the same time
Men see her gentle sway and get lost in thoughts of passion and mystery
For they know her waves bring promises of things unknown and pleasure unbound
Her taste is primal and bittersweet
Refreshing and intoxicating
I would gladly surrender to her
We were born in her
Some say evolved from her
She dominates by her very presence
Because she is essential to our joy
Our fulfillment
Our life
The body one moment soft and warm
With ripples that reflect her sun kissed skin
But then stirred to the point where she is granite
Hardened in frosty despair still reflecting the sun but yielding none of it's warmth
Yet I still yearn for her
She is my lover
And when she calls I gladly heed the sounds of her moans and whispers
For once again I will drown in her
Only to find new life and meaning in the sunset off the horizon
Bonny body, blown like glass
Fragile, delicate, streamlined, weightless
Her escaping light forms
Are shapely, desired and dangerous
Slender, slick, silky and smooth
Your body, your hair, your eyes
Beautiful, wonderous, blooms
She has magnet slated skin
She's four thousand degrees fahrenheit
Burning, shining like ignited thermite
Sacrilegious, salient, sultry and serene
Scrupulous, sassy and perfectly clean
She's a flawless fragment of frail beauty
Her beauty is like her sister... Yep..
They look right through each other
You should cherish her
You should treasure
You should respect her
For if she is broken she can cut deeply
Fragile, delicate, streamlined, weightless
Her escaping light forms
Are shapely, desired and dangerous
Slender, slick, silky and smooth
Your body, your hair, your eyes
Beautiful, wonderous, blooms
She has magnet slated skin
She's four thousand degrees fahrenheit
Burning, shining like ignited thermite
Sacrilegious, salient, sultry and serene
Scrupulous, sassy and perfectly clean
She's a flawless fragment of frail beauty
Her beauty is like her sister... Yep..
They look right through each other
You should cherish her
You should treasure
You should respect her
For if she is broken she can cut deeply
your eyes icy
your heart spicy
your body inviting
your skin smooth as silk
of which i could caress
softly with my finger tips
tracing your beautiful curves
loving the scars
and your tiger strips
you try to hide them
there mine and I love them
it shows history was made
no shame you should hold
your beautiful in everything you do
even the dark and twisted shit you do,
your hair black as ink
smooth as the wind
as its passing thru trees
eyes so wide they look into me
seeing past the hype right into me
beautiful a glistening like stars in the sky
i love your accent its music to me
i would never change anything about your body
every piece i kiss and touch
for you are my goddesss so pure and true
in a world filled with moralless sluts who use and abuse
your heart spicy
your body inviting
your skin smooth as silk
of which i could caress
softly with my finger tips
tracing your beautiful curves
loving the scars
and your tiger strips
you try to hide them
there mine and I love them
it shows history was made
no shame you should hold
your beautiful in everything you do
even the dark and twisted shit you do,
your hair black as ink
smooth as the wind
as its passing thru trees
eyes so wide they look into me
seeing past the hype right into me
beautiful a glistening like stars in the sky
i love your accent its music to me
i would never change anything about your body
every piece i kiss and touch
for you are my goddesss so pure and true
in a world filled with moralless sluts who use and abuse
Just a share because I thought this an incredible piece ...
“Noon” by Nur Nasreen Ibrahim
http://www.decodeunicode.org/en/u+0646/data/glyph/196x196/0646.gif
The Arabic letter noon looks like a woman’s breast. It is a half broken bottom of an egg, hanging from a stretched taut hidden rope, without the cracks showing. In the center is a dot, the nipple. Sometimes the noon sags, like my grandmother’s breasts, soft and brittle against my cheek as she holds me against her chest. Sometimes the nipple is too far up, the noon transforming into a perky breast by an invisible push up bra. Sometimes I forget to dot it and it becomes silent, a shape without a center, a piece of loose flesh. Sometimes, while writing, I dot the nipple so hastily it looks more like a dash, and my noon is pitiful and flat. Like the scar running across my mother’s breasts, flattened shapes against immaculate sanitised white pages.
Noon is a moan of pleasure from a mouth curved into a soft O.It touches your tongue and slides off easily, relying on thin gusts of wind to send it floating into the air, a musical note that ends as quickly as it began. It is a circular sound, like its image.
I am told my breasts are precious and must be hidden from view. Yet, they are groped at in crowded dark rooms, where beating drums send trembles through them. They are brushed against on train platforms and I wonder if they take up too much space. They are fondled in quiet moments in public bathrooms. But my breasts are odd shapes, one is larger than the other, with dark brown nipples that have illdefined borders. They are clotted ink splashed across my skin, hastily growing in an attempt to catch up with my body. They are surrounded by dark hairs, scratches from a malfunctioning pen. They are full and heavy and I walk with my shoulders hunched forward.
The first time I show my breasts to a man, I hold my breath. He touches them lightly and then hard, pulls at my nipples and kisses them as if he is praying. He traces the splashes of ink with his finger and I feel unfamiliar tremors. My mother always said I needed to work on my handwriting more, I never get the curve of the noon right. After it is over, he disappears.
Nur Nasreen Ibrahim is a literature lover and journalist. Uprooted from Lahore, Pakistan, she graduated from Harvard University and is currently living, journaling etc. in Washington DC.
“Noon” by Nur Nasreen Ibrahim
http://www.decodeunicode.org/en/u+0646/data/glyph/196x196/0646.gif
The Arabic letter noon looks like a woman’s breast. It is a half broken bottom of an egg, hanging from a stretched taut hidden rope, without the cracks showing. In the center is a dot, the nipple. Sometimes the noon sags, like my grandmother’s breasts, soft and brittle against my cheek as she holds me against her chest. Sometimes the nipple is too far up, the noon transforming into a perky breast by an invisible push up bra. Sometimes I forget to dot it and it becomes silent, a shape without a center, a piece of loose flesh. Sometimes, while writing, I dot the nipple so hastily it looks more like a dash, and my noon is pitiful and flat. Like the scar running across my mother’s breasts, flattened shapes against immaculate sanitised white pages.
Noon is a moan of pleasure from a mouth curved into a soft O.It touches your tongue and slides off easily, relying on thin gusts of wind to send it floating into the air, a musical note that ends as quickly as it began. It is a circular sound, like its image.
I am told my breasts are precious and must be hidden from view. Yet, they are groped at in crowded dark rooms, where beating drums send trembles through them. They are brushed against on train platforms and I wonder if they take up too much space. They are fondled in quiet moments in public bathrooms. But my breasts are odd shapes, one is larger than the other, with dark brown nipples that have illdefined borders. They are clotted ink splashed across my skin, hastily growing in an attempt to catch up with my body. They are surrounded by dark hairs, scratches from a malfunctioning pen. They are full and heavy and I walk with my shoulders hunched forward.
The first time I show my breasts to a man, I hold my breath. He touches them lightly and then hard, pulls at my nipples and kisses them as if he is praying. He traces the splashes of ink with his finger and I feel unfamiliar tremors. My mother always said I needed to work on my handwriting more, I never get the curve of the noon right. After it is over, he disappears.
Nur Nasreen Ibrahim is a literature lover and journalist. Uprooted from Lahore, Pakistan, she graduated from Harvard University and is currently living, journaling etc. in Washington DC.
A wooden stick
When I was younger I would tap a wooden stick on the water.
I would count how many ripples spread across.
1
2
3
4
Sometimes there would be more.
Stroking the waters ripples.
I would wait and sit by a lake.
I would dangle my feet in the water.
I would hit the stick against some trees waiting for the ripple.
Never did it come.
So did he as he would tap his fingers against them, waiting for them to ripple.
Like jugs of water.
They try their best to drink my water.
So as they did again,
Tap their fingers against my breasts.
Waiting for a ripple.
So I saw him try to drink from them and come back with a smile.
Shaking them like jello.
And using is finger as a wooden stick.
Going back to my pond.
The water is darker.
The trees are bigger.
Hitting the tree with a stick waiting for a ripple.
Hitting the pond with a stick only to see it fade away.
When I was younger I would tap a wooden stick on the water.
I would count how many ripples spread across.
1
2
3
4
Sometimes there would be more.
Stroking the waters ripples.
I would wait and sit by a lake.
I would dangle my feet in the water.
I would hit the stick against some trees waiting for the ripple.
Never did it come.
So did he as he would tap his fingers against them, waiting for them to ripple.
Like jugs of water.
They try their best to drink my water.
So as they did again,
Tap their fingers against my breasts.
Waiting for a ripple.
So I saw him try to drink from them and come back with a smile.
Shaking them like jello.
And using is finger as a wooden stick.
Going back to my pond.
The water is darker.
The trees are bigger.
Hitting the tree with a stick waiting for a ripple.
Hitting the pond with a stick only to see it fade away.
Walking through the mall
The best place to truly appreciate the female figure
is simply the mall
It reveals a variety of things which makes
women that much more drooling over
or day dreaming over
or crashing into stands
or jaw dropping
or eye ball popping
The first variety is clothes
they hide away qualities for most men
for women it truly is revealing
a mirror without a mirror
They reveal information about maturity
personality
self confidence
style
separating the women from the men
where they reveal certain elements of their breasts
or asses
or legs
The other aspect is the face
more specifically the makeup
too much
she seems a bit fake
too little
horror
Just enough
it's a tricky balancing act
Then there are basically different body types
all have their strengths
all have their weaknesses
in short there are three types
first off-the have a meal body type
these women are generally very skinny
not anorexic
but not normal
they do however fit in everything
and those types add for extra agility
second is- needs a confidence boost
in terms of their figure
it is very good
some guys like more meat on the bone
but I am not one of those
their only problem is thinking that they are ugly
Thirdly-lend your meal to the have a meal type
these women simply put are big
not overweight
never overweight
but their curves are way more highlighted then the average woman
some may call it overkill
some may call it heavenly
In short the thing about a female figure
is it works for different men
all female figures are beautiful
when looking around the mall
go ahead call me a pervert
I call it biology
that being said if you
do not want attention
please do not wear something
that will draw attention
otherwise girls if you are feeling bad about your beauty
always know that there is
a guy around the corner
drooling over you
Consider it a compliment
The best place to truly appreciate the female figure
is simply the mall
It reveals a variety of things which makes
women that much more drooling over
or day dreaming over
or crashing into stands
or jaw dropping
or eye ball popping
The first variety is clothes
they hide away qualities for most men
for women it truly is revealing
a mirror without a mirror
They reveal information about maturity
personality
self confidence
style
separating the women from the men
where they reveal certain elements of their breasts
or asses
or legs
The other aspect is the face
more specifically the makeup
too much
she seems a bit fake
too little
horror
Just enough
it's a tricky balancing act
Then there are basically different body types
all have their strengths
all have their weaknesses
in short there are three types
first off-the have a meal body type
these women are generally very skinny
not anorexic
but not normal
they do however fit in everything
and those types add for extra agility
second is- needs a confidence boost
in terms of their figure
it is very good
some guys like more meat on the bone
but I am not one of those
their only problem is thinking that they are ugly
Thirdly-lend your meal to the have a meal type
these women simply put are big
not overweight
never overweight
but their curves are way more highlighted then the average woman
some may call it overkill
some may call it heavenly
In short the thing about a female figure
is it works for different men
all female figures are beautiful
when looking around the mall
go ahead call me a pervert
I call it biology
that being said if you
do not want attention
please do not wear something
that will draw attention
otherwise girls if you are feeling bad about your beauty
always know that there is
a guy around the corner
drooling over you
Consider it a compliment
