- Non-Erotic Poetry
- ass is precipice, fucker
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Click herefoolish and hooded, no peeking,
only you are allowed to speak, moan,
grind teeth
hold it like a rifle stock
thumb passes over moist tip
sure enough real, fleshy, firmness
supplied by warm red blood
from strong male heart
you hear
head pressed against pounding chest
moments before his best
his holstering into your sheath
the feel of his length
up from your gut
to the back of your throat
so big and gentle
for the moments before his best heave,
please, leave nail cuts
across his muscled shoulders
buttocks
torso pumping prime
roll over
hug yellow satin pillow
tender the space
left to fuck
creamy crack
this young athletic meat
and dairy
till all men
old or young
gray or lightly browned
bleach white or black as elephant ear mushroom
upon festive plate
begin to resemble Sargasso Eel
lips to tail
tasty eats, such uncompromised
delicacy this limber reckless boy’s
tendril pound, wrap
smeared and oiled and panting,
saddled, barbed arrow wind, lost reins surging
over rocky rhinoceros horned cliff
push
push
push some more again, again, fucker
- COMMENTS
duddle146over 17 years agoTaken in the most savage way ~ a classic case of brutality run amok.
LeBrozover 17 years agoI can see why Peter wrote this under one of his alts;
It is brutal, direct, and sexually charged,
For those oriented to this fashion.
jthserraabout 20 years agonon-erotica my precipice. This one screamed and moaned. Powerful, and interesting phrasing kept up an incredible pace. Hot, savage, and sexual.
very good
jim : )
Liarabout 20 years agoIt's actually not the words themselves, edgy as they might be that gives this poem it's strength, but the jagget, spitting rhythm in which they are delivered. Mr walker knows his shit.
Angelineabout 20 years agoPowerful; you write with such strength and insight. I read your poems and think you are so observant and in touch with what you feel
