Submissions by caxton
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Wait . . . Poetry? I thought this was a dating site!
Grind
The thudding thump
Beat bass
A girl grinding on me
On the dance floor
Well
At the bar
One beer start and we
Can see where she wants to go
The dregs of humanity
My playground friends
Sometimes you fall so far
You can't stand back up again.
Beat bass
A girl grinding on me
On the dance floor
Well
At the bar
One beer start and we
Can see where she wants to go
The dregs of humanity
My playground friends
Sometimes you fall so far
You can't stand back up again.
598 reads
4 Comments
Waking up
Slowly, gently
The morning sun caressing her skin
Last night really happened
And still she's laying
In my bed
Stealing all the blankets
I woke up warmer
And colder than usual
But it's not the kind of thing
You complain about
Like the first time the birds
wake you up in the spring
This time we can just let it be
And she looks so sweet asleep on my arm
I don't want to get up
She keeps me so warm
But my stomach is rumbling
I have to hit the head
So it's time for her
To get out of my bed
The morning sun caressing her skin
Last night really happened
And still she's laying
In my bed
Stealing all the blankets
I woke up warmer
And colder than usual
But it's not the kind of thing
You complain about
Like the first time the birds
wake you up in the spring
This time we can just let it be
And she looks so sweet asleep on my arm
I don't want to get up
She keeps me so warm
But my stomach is rumbling
I have to hit the head
So it's time for her
To get out of my bed
600 reads
2 Comments
On the floor
1057 reads
6 Comments
Fear
Fire burning in air
Hearts weeping as terror nears
Give into your fears
Hearts weeping as terror nears
Give into your fears
548 reads
2 Comments
I can't write anything today
Why do the words elude me today
Usually I can't keep them in
They need to be written
Need to be shared
Heard
Repeated
Felt on the tips of tongues
Chewed on and digested
And given to someone else
They want to run with the wild hearts of youth
Kiss their secret lover's lips
And hold an infant in their arms
But today they shy away
I have nothing to say
Nothing to feel
Nothing to make you feel
Why has my gift abandoned me today?
Usually I can't keep them in
They need to be written
Need to be shared
Heard
Repeated
Felt on the tips of tongues
Chewed on and digested
And given to someone else
They want to run with the wild hearts of youth
Kiss their secret lover's lips
And hold an infant in their arms
But today they shy away
I have nothing to say
Nothing to feel
Nothing to make you feel
Why has my gift abandoned me today?
663 reads
2 Comments
We have fun . . . Don't we? With anna_grin
I'm wondering
can i use household bleach on leg hair
funny see now
i've got reasons to keep clean
i feel sweet like kool aid
feel like smooth whiskey
Turns out I'm something of an artist
Working in orgasm like DaVinci worked in paint
People tell me I'm pretty good
Each performance pushing towards mastery
Always improving
Always looking for something new and exciting
in the scabby corners
tenner for a good time i like a good time
finding this time
look at me like you imagined me
i don't...
can i use household bleach on leg hair
funny see now
i've got reasons to keep clean
i feel sweet like kool aid
feel like smooth whiskey
Turns out I'm something of an artist
Working in orgasm like DaVinci worked in paint
People tell me I'm pretty good
Each performance pushing towards mastery
Always improving
Always looking for something new and exciting
in the scabby corners
tenner for a good time i like a good time
finding this time
look at me like you imagined me
i don't...
720 reads
4 Comments
Tales of tiles
The faded and worn
Tiles were chipped and grimy
The years had not been kind
Some were missing
Some had chewing gum stuck to them
Turned black and hardened
To a cement like substance
Along the grouted cracks
Between tiles marched the ants in formation
Going to the food that shouldn't have been
Eaten on the pool deck
Slippery running feet
That shouldn't be
Slap their way to the door
Then two men in shoes slap back
to the waterlogged body on the floor
When it's taken away
Heart beating again
No one cares...
Tiles were chipped and grimy
The years had not been kind
Some were missing
Some had chewing gum stuck to them
Turned black and hardened
To a cement like substance
Along the grouted cracks
Between tiles marched the ants in formation
Going to the food that shouldn't have been
Eaten on the pool deck
Slippery running feet
That shouldn't be
Slap their way to the door
Then two men in shoes slap back
to the waterlogged body on the floor
When it's taken away
Heart beating again
No one cares...
610 reads
1 Comment
Tour Group
I want to take a walk around your mind
With a map of all the famous attractions
Wade through the fountains lacking wisdom
Run from the cops
Policing your heart
Study the gothic architecture of your soul
Look at a painting of your first orgy
With a crowd of self important aspiring artists
And bored school children
Who are at least happy they aren't in school
See the monuments to your own ego
And skip over the dark and depressing bits
Unless it's that kind of tour
I'll flirt with the pretty girls in their tank tops
Ogle the nude beaches...
With a map of all the famous attractions
Wade through the fountains lacking wisdom
Run from the cops
Policing your heart
Study the gothic architecture of your soul
Look at a painting of your first orgy
With a crowd of self important aspiring artists
And bored school children
Who are at least happy they aren't in school
See the monuments to your own ego
And skip over the dark and depressing bits
Unless it's that kind of tour
I'll flirt with the pretty girls in their tank tops
Ogle the nude beaches...
598 reads
0 Comments
I'm glad my floors are hardwood
When I'm holding you up against the wall
With one hand on your throat
You're begging me
Harder
Deeper
Please don't stop
Sometimes during orgasm
You say you can't take it any more
No more
But I don't stop
Safe word is easy
You come harder than ever before
I pull it out
Rub my cock on your clit
Twist your nipple
You screaming
Streaming
Puddling on my floor
Hardwood is easy to clean
And your lady juice stained your bed
With one hand on your throat
You're begging me
Harder
Deeper
Please don't stop
Sometimes during orgasm
You say you can't take it any more
No more
But I don't stop
Safe word is easy
You come harder than ever before
I pull it out
Rub my cock on your clit
Twist your nipple
You screaming
Streaming
Puddling on my floor
Hardwood is easy to clean
And your lady juice stained your bed
926 reads
2 Comments
All you want is sex
Women will
Say
That all I
Want
Is sex
If I say all I want
Is sex
It's a statement
When women say
All I want is sex
It's an accusation
I don't regret
My sex drive
Nor do I feel
Shame
For my wonton ways
Women say I only want sex
They are almost right
I also enjoy good food
Get on that I'll be over later
You fill me then I fill you
Say
That all I
Want
Is sex
If I say all I want
Is sex
It's a statement
When women say
All I want is sex
It's an accusation
I don't regret
My sex drive
Nor do I feel
Shame
For my wonton ways
Women say I only want sex
They are almost right
I also enjoy good food
Get on that I'll be over later
You fill me then I fill you
1060 reads
6 Comments
Dancer
Holding you here in my arms
The songs they sing a serenade
Moving feet carefully
Give you a twirl
Then back into my arms
Talking, laughing
More felt than heard
And if the music stops
I'll hum a tune
I know you like
And we keep dancing
Our wine-soaked feet
Through an unsteady beat
But nights like this last forever
So to speak
The songs they sing a serenade
Moving feet carefully
Give you a twirl
Then back into my arms
Talking, laughing
More felt than heard
And if the music stops
I'll hum a tune
I know you like
And we keep dancing
Our wine-soaked feet
Through an unsteady beat
But nights like this last forever
So to speak
683 reads
2 Comments
What the f**k!
I'm freaking the fuck out
Many of my poems are fictitious
But when more and more of them resonate
With me now more than when I wrote them
I'm concerned. What if they all come true?
Death by orgasm was a joke. Mostly.
Many of my poems are fictitious
But when more and more of them resonate
With me now more than when I wrote them
I'm concerned. What if they all come true?
Death by orgasm was a joke. Mostly.
629 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by caxton