fucking poetry

@longtallandcute

poetry on sex, desire, love, loss, identity - being a human. thirty-something, husband, father, fire dancer and sometime poet.. I live in Sydney NSFW and broadly equivalent to ESRB rating M (Mature 17+), naughty words, sexual themes and non-explicit nudity. If you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't - but at least it's sex-positive. My Recorded Erotic StoriesAll Audio RecordingsMy Poetry - Audio RecordingsRecordings of TWC poetryMeMy erotic poems My random poemsMy erotic stories

1,111 posts

Pet

Do you know,

what I'd do for you?

I'd kneel.

I'd stay.

Would you

let me?

pet me?

Play?

For your hands

in my hair;

stroke my cares.

Away

For you?

I'd even feel.

Own me.

Know me.

Please.

Bring me to heal.

#poetry #sexetry #erotic poetry #kink #bdsm

Tongues touch, and raindrops.

Outside (I'm) grey, chill, silence.

It's warm inside (you)

#poetry #sexetry #erotic poetry #haiku

All's unfair in love,

I never asked to feel you.

(Or not in my heart)

#poetry #sexetry #haiku

I thought you knew - it's not a ruse.

It's true, I'd never use

it to get close

to you,

I wouldn't lie,

(but if I did, I'd deny

it)

So how do you tell?

You can't.

After all, I can't,

and I'm the one who fell.

#poetry #sexetry #erotic poetry

Tonight, cheap and red;

To fill need, not luxury.

Also we have wine.

#haiku #sexetry #poetry

It was a (rainy) day

spent inside (you);

i meant

to say

we lie atop the city,

only us, washed (raindrops)

and underneath the hubbub

of days (going by)

#poetry #sexetry #erotic poetry #inspired by e e cummings

I won't eat your heart

That's not the part I'm after

(I might lick your brain)

#sexetry #poetry #erotic poetry #haiku

Sex positive erotica, poetry and prose. Words that heal and hurt. Love and fucking. Stories and poems with narration.

Hey all, so the website has been rebuilt. Lots of my writing is now hosted there as I slowly transfer it over.. come visit xo

For those who still read this,

I now write on twitter at @fuckingpoetry_

I'm rebuilding my website and considering whether to publish.

Come visit me there xo

Spellbound

Do you want

to be spellbound

by sound

Do you "Kneel"

Do you "Stand"

At His or Her command?

Tell me what

runs through you

when you do

exactly

as you're told

permission to be daring

permission to be bold

The freedom

to express

A wanted

wantonness

#poetry #sexetry

thank you tumblr, for confining me to this upside down sentient cone prison, and still allowing bigboob100-local-ladies-want2-fuck-you slide into my inbox every 5 seconds xox

violentwavesofemotion-deactivat

Wild Geese

Visit Original Link

Mary Oliver reciting her poem “Wild Geese,” published in Selected Poems

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves

‪That was dalliance,‬

‪not romance.

‪I didn't mean to make you feel ‬

‪so much‬

‪I only want to heal.‬

#poetry #sexetry

lingers

the memory of you lingers

on my pillow,

the tips of my fingers;

your scent on my sheets

eats me,

but I don't want to change

them, me or you.

#poetry #sexetry #spilled ink #erotic poetry

Feel

They say you forget,

in the end.

The time we'd spend,

the detail.

It's years, it's true:

It fails me.

When I sketch a memory

of you

It's an outline

I can't quite fill

And yet I know it's real

The one thing I remember:

The way you made me feel

#poetry #spilled ink

There are times when it's meant

to cause a little pain,

just saying:

we're bent

that way

(and this)

you say

please

I say knees

and then it's

easing

into rhythm,

familiar repetition;

achieve my intention:

your release of tension.

#poetry #sexetry

And Friday this week is my last exams. Five years of night classes, full time work and family, and it is over in two days. Assuming I pass. Which I'm pretty confident I will, because both exams are things I have professional experience in.

But tumblr has definitely been a low priority in the interim. It really kind of went down the hole when I began studying. I don't know why - it's not that I had significantly less time. But the creative energy needed to write was gone.

Yesterday I handed in my last assignments. I feel like a cliche has been lifted off me.

And this morning, I wanted to write. Perhaps I will.

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