Submissions by MayRayn (May Rayn)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Practicing poetry without a license; semi-professional iconoclast; holding no candles, kissing no ass.
EROTIC POEM
Published
24th Sep 2016 10:12pm
24th Sep 2016 10:12pm
After Winter, Spring
I walked down the corridors of life,
knowing exactly where I was going
until, one day, I turned a corner.
Disoriented, I opened doors at random,
squinting at overwhelming sunshine
or writhing shapes in darkness.
My mind invaded by some crazed imp,
some drugged-out djinn that had escaped its confines,
I found myself in dreamland.
The doors all closed behind me...
with a slam, or with a firm, low click.
Drained of all joy, my thirst grew and grew,
a flame fueled by some...
knowing exactly where I was going
until, one day, I turned a corner.
Disoriented, I opened doors at random,
squinting at overwhelming sunshine
or writhing shapes in darkness.
My mind invaded by some crazed imp,
some drugged-out djinn that had escaped its confines,
I found myself in dreamland.
The doors all closed behind me...
with a slam, or with a firm, low click.
Drained of all joy, my thirst grew and grew,
a flame fueled by some...
900 reads
7 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
27th Aug 2016 7:24am
27th Aug 2016 7:24am
Smoke & Heat
Wet warmth whispers down my throat
I feel it coat inside as it slides
smooth over curved breast
hovers, hangs...just...off the tip
before you suck the nipple deep
--down, farther
as more of that smokey liquid
amber fires up my skin
flows down into navel
lick from that dainty soft cup,
its delicate florid whorls only
a preview of what's to come
below
keep pouring the flame,
the trickle mingles with my own
treacle for your tongue,
spare me no swirl, no fire as fingers
follow and invade
anoint my wet lips...
I feel it coat inside as it slides
smooth over curved breast
hovers, hangs...just...off the tip
before you suck the nipple deep
--down, farther
as more of that smokey liquid
amber fires up my skin
flows down into navel
lick from that dainty soft cup,
its delicate florid whorls only
a preview of what's to come
below
keep pouring the flame,
the trickle mingles with my own
treacle for your tongue,
spare me no swirl, no fire as fingers
follow and invade
anoint my wet lips...
937 reads
4 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
27th Aug 2016 5:45am
27th Aug 2016 5:45am
The Dark Side of Love
In saner moments I take it out,
turn it this way and that,
examine every crease and imperfection.
I polish it until it gleams, an object of perfection—
a thing outside itself, beautiful, abstract.
Nothing you’d question.
But then…
.…it swells, a ball of fiery lava,
glomming thick and dense
rising in milliseconds
pluming unbidden, uncontrolled.
It bursts, red-purple, raw, gashes re-opened.
It splatters everything, like thick paint,
insinuates itself into the wrinkles of my face,
under my...
turn it this way and that,
examine every crease and imperfection.
I polish it until it gleams, an object of perfection—
a thing outside itself, beautiful, abstract.
Nothing you’d question.
But then…
.…it swells, a ball of fiery lava,
glomming thick and dense
rising in milliseconds
pluming unbidden, uncontrolled.
It bursts, red-purple, raw, gashes re-opened.
It splatters everything, like thick paint,
insinuates itself into the wrinkles of my face,
under my...
821 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Jul 2016 1:50am
6th Jul 2016 1:50am
On Friendship
It's an elusive friendship, sparked by misunderstanding.
She spied your soul spun out on blood-speckled pages,
its edges torn ragged, mended with longing for another.
You sliced off limbs with slashes of your pen.
She wished she could lighten the pain, spirit it gone,
bury it so deep it sinks under the surface calm.
She left roses, thorns and all, on a riverbank conjured
of fragrant air and raindrops spattered on wet sand.
A thorny friend, she is opinionated, prickly, easily stirred,
a snarl too ready on her tongue and with too open a heart....
She spied your soul spun out on blood-speckled pages,
its edges torn ragged, mended with longing for another.
You sliced off limbs with slashes of your pen.
She wished she could lighten the pain, spirit it gone,
bury it so deep it sinks under the surface calm.
She left roses, thorns and all, on a riverbank conjured
of fragrant air and raindrops spattered on wet sand.
A thorny friend, she is opinionated, prickly, easily stirred,
a snarl too ready on her tongue and with too open a heart....
790 reads
6 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
30th Jun 2016 7:30am
30th Jun 2016 7:30am
Rudderless, Left to My Own Devices (version 2)
You are the boat, the hole in the ocean into which I throw my questions,
and like a Delphic oracle, you hear only one frequency of voice
on the wind. When the gale rises, leaves rustle and my lips move
but your statue hears nothing and answers less.
I throw my line, hook, and sinker, and catch a boot-full
of promise, soot from a fathomless meandering river,
the bottom-nourishing carp of my childhood.
I fold my pieces of paper, my prayers for enlightenment,
and tuck them between the stones of the Wailing Wall, ...
and like a Delphic oracle, you hear only one frequency of voice
on the wind. When the gale rises, leaves rustle and my lips move
but your statue hears nothing and answers less.
I throw my line, hook, and sinker, and catch a boot-full
of promise, soot from a fathomless meandering river,
the bottom-nourishing carp of my childhood.
I fold my pieces of paper, my prayers for enlightenment,
and tuck them between the stones of the Wailing Wall, ...
864 reads
9 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
29th Jun 2016 5:30pm
29th Jun 2016 5:30pm
Hotwire Me, Lover
Set fire to my spark plugs, baby, combust my insides!
Your touch coils my springs,
shocks my modesty and suspends my disbelief.
No one oils my pan all over like you do...
Your steam simply freezes my engines
even as it shakes them apart at the seams.
Your touch coils my springs,
shocks my modesty and suspends my disbelief.
No one oils my pan all over like you do...
Your steam simply freezes my engines
even as it shakes them apart at the seams.
824 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
23rd Jun 2016 8:21pm
23rd Jun 2016 8:21pm
Pluperfect Perfection (an acrostic)
Pervasive you are in my thoughts
lingering, like scent in a garden
under gray skies
palms sweated, remembering the times
erect, you touched my tongue
runes read along your length
feeling the velour parchment
evoking moisture, sliding south
caressed surfaces
touch-typing, tipping the velvet rim.
Past tenses meandered, like rivulets
eschewing capture
roamed free, as your fingers
frolicked, feeling their way; I
exhaled slowly, wanting no end
craving more, losing myself:...
lingering, like scent in a garden
under gray skies
palms sweated, remembering the times
erect, you touched my tongue
runes read along your length
feeling the velour parchment
evoking moisture, sliding south
caressed surfaces
touch-typing, tipping the velvet rim.
Past tenses meandered, like rivulets
eschewing capture
roamed free, as your fingers
frolicked, feeling their way; I
exhaled slowly, wanting no end
craving more, losing myself:...
939 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
22nd Jun 2016 00:37am
22nd Jun 2016 00:37am
Inspirational
Sometimes, s/he wears nothing, my muse,
though often I have to strip garments in my mind
slide off velvet or silk, satin or leather
take off a garter, undo one or two laces
roll down straps, or maybe suspenders.
My muse is stone-hard, marble-columned,
though not Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, or Tuscan
definitely not fluted, though perhaps
Greek Erectheum, if you know what I mean.
The, ummm, ornaments invite my fingertips and lips.
Or possessing sodden flowing creases,
making me tongue-tied - of words, not caresses.
Soft and yielding,...
though often I have to strip garments in my mind
slide off velvet or silk, satin or leather
take off a garter, undo one or two laces
roll down straps, or maybe suspenders.
My muse is stone-hard, marble-columned,
though not Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, or Tuscan
definitely not fluted, though perhaps
Greek Erectheum, if you know what I mean.
The, ummm, ornaments invite my fingertips and lips.
Or possessing sodden flowing creases,
making me tongue-tied - of words, not caresses.
Soft and yielding,...
892 reads
6 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
21st Jun 2016 6:50pm
21st Jun 2016 6:50pm
Object of My Desire
There is... something... about the male body.
Strength. Muscle. Sinew. Furrrrrrr...
The differences in skin - smooth,
stretched taut, hiding power.
The cock, soft or engorged
the testes.... soft, dangly balls
to nuzzle for my amusement.
Do you feel like an object, desired?
Do you smile at the thought of saliva
pooling in my mouth?
I see you lengthen, swell.
You're allowed - nay, invited! - to dream
of what's underneath that which
embraces my secrets.
I bring them to your lips
to share their wet...
Strength. Muscle. Sinew. Furrrrrrr...
The differences in skin - smooth,
stretched taut, hiding power.
The cock, soft or engorged
the testes.... soft, dangly balls
to nuzzle for my amusement.
Do you feel like an object, desired?
Do you smile at the thought of saliva
pooling in my mouth?
I see you lengthen, swell.
You're allowed - nay, invited! - to dream
of what's underneath that which
embraces my secrets.
I bring them to your lips
to share their wet...
869 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
20th Jun 2016 9:03pm
20th Jun 2016 9:03pm
Liebeslied (free verse original)
The nipple, shaped like Erato's grape,
touches your lips, as notes escape
from sweet Kithara's strings
to grace the page, to shimmer and elate.
Clear water trickles down her chest,
kisses smooth skin; it glides and rests
in that small valley just above the nest
where men sink hopes and dreams.
What bittersweet limerence unfolds
in answer to the deep abiding need,
to which the visage of his loved one holds
unbidden and mysterious key.
touches your lips, as notes escape
from sweet Kithara's strings
to grace the page, to shimmer and elate.
Clear water trickles down her chest,
kisses smooth skin; it glides and rests
in that small valley just above the nest
where men sink hopes and dreams.
What bittersweet limerence unfolds
in answer to the deep abiding need,
to which the visage of his loved one holds
unbidden and mysterious key.
885 reads
6 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
20th Jun 2016 9:00pm
20th Jun 2016 9:00pm
Liebeslied (sonnet version)
The nipple, shaped just like Erato's grape,
his lips devour, just as - from silver strings -
Kithara’s sweet, melodious notes escape
to grace the air, shine forth their shimmerings.
The clear thin stream, it trickled down her breast
and glossed upon her molten skin, to rest
in that small valley just above the nest
where men submerge their wicked dreams to crest.
The sweetest limerence reveals a plea
to their abiding need, to which her love’s
clear visage holds a mute, unbidden key
to their...
his lips devour, just as - from silver strings -
Kithara’s sweet, melodious notes escape
to grace the air, shine forth their shimmerings.
The clear thin stream, it trickled down her breast
and glossed upon her molten skin, to rest
in that small valley just above the nest
where men submerge their wicked dreams to crest.
The sweetest limerence reveals a plea
to their abiding need, to which her love’s
clear visage holds a mute, unbidden key
to their...
770 reads
5 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
9th Jun 2016 6:14am
9th Jun 2016 6:14am
Please
Plow my furrow deep,
till my soil, seed my field.
Rain and sun together will
adorn the velvet petals.
Sweat streaks ‘tween my breasts
from your caresses.
Deposit your nectar,
rub it in
skin on skin,
nude and wanton.
till my soil, seed my field.
Rain and sun together will
adorn the velvet petals.
Sweat streaks ‘tween my breasts
from your caresses.
Deposit your nectar,
rub it in
skin on skin,
nude and wanton.
854 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by MayRayn (May Rayn)
