POETRY
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R-18+ content warning.
Click to explore.
Intentions
Intentions are hotter than actions.
It’s not how you look,
What you wear,
Or what you do that matters.
It’s what you intend to do.
What you hope to make happen.
How you want your partner to feel,
Before, during and after.
It’s how your desire transforms your reality.
Once begun,
Seduction never ends.
It starts in the mind,
Continues with words,
And is accentuated by the body
A seed to be nourished, tendered, guarded,
And then consumed.
A seductress knows her intention,
Hones it,
And only then acts.
Intentions are hotter than actions.
It’s not how you look,
What you wear,
Or what you do that matters.
It’s what you intend to do.
What you hope to make happen.
How you want your partner to feel,
Before, during and after.
It’s how your desire transforms your reality.
Once begun,
Seduction never ends.
It starts in the mind,
Continues with words,
And is accentuated by the body
A seed to be nourished, tendered, guarded,
And then consumed.
A seductress knows her intention,
Hones it,
And only then acts.
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
The Siren’s Call
Heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.
Every position, perversion, and pleasure,
every fantasy possible, fulfilled forever.
All you need do is open your phone,
press a few buttons, then get yourself alone.
What we have here are the sirens of old,
pulling men off course and taking their gold.
With their songs and bodies they do tempt
and not even the most pious can keep themselves exempt.
The Sirens would pose, prance, and start to sing,
they would promise to do literally everything.
Whispering deeds that could rouse the dead,
forcing all men to stop thinking with their head.
Now you may say none of this really matters,
but if left unchecked your life will end in tatters.
What happens when we watch people fucking like rabbits?
what does that do to our real nocturnal habits?
How can a real women possibly hope to match
the perfect bodies, boobs, or snatch?
Of those sirens that you can easily summon,
exactly what you want at the click of a button.
Reality is distorted by such perfection,
it takes away the chance at real connection.
If you’re hoping your lady will act like a siren,
you’ll miss all the sexiness that’s worth admirin’.
It’s not her job to put on a show,
yet here she is, and she’s ready to go.
But now you can’t even get it up,
not even when she gives you a hearty warm-up.
Then you’ll blame her for not doing it right,
for wearing the wrong clothes or not being so tight.
When really the sirens have made you totally numb,
sexually impotent and socially dumb.
But what does it matter when you can find online
every variation of sex you could possibly divine?
Do you want to see a nun sucking her thumb
whilst a furry sticks a dildo into her bum?
Just search a few minutes for a visual feast,
a few more clicks and you’ll be watching a priest!
Nothing in real life will ever compare,
to all those things that the sirens choose to share.
But forgotten will be the dirty words said,
or all the smut you have had in a real bed.
Lost will be the memories of true debauchery,
like how she used her tongue like an act of sorcery.
Or the time she dressed up in thigh high boots,
or when she chose not to wear her swimsuits.
Those things all happened, and they happened to you,
but the siren’s call has left you in lieu.
If you think you’re not trapped just take this test,
try going a week without observing a siren’s breast.
Don’t watch, or click, or view them at all.
be honest, how long did it take for you to fall?
If the siren’s call was instead labelled a drug,
you’d be considered an addict, a fiend, a bug.
But because most men are trapped as well,
no one acknowledges their internal hell.
So, heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.
Erotica, R-18+
Heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.
Every position, perversion, and pleasure,
every fantasy possible, fulfilled forever.
All you need do is open your phone,
press a few buttons, then get yourself alone.
What we have here are the sirens of old,
pulling men off course and taking their gold.
With their songs and bodies they do tempt
and not even the most pious can keep themselves exempt.
The Sirens would pose, prance, and start to sing,
they would promise to do literally everything.
Whispering deeds that could rouse the dead,
forcing all men to stop thinking with their head.
Now you may say none of this really matters,
but if left unchecked your life will end in tatters.
What happens when we watch people fucking like rabbits?
what does that do to our real nocturnal habits?
How can a real women possibly hope to match
the perfect bodies, boobs, or snatch?
Of those sirens that you can easily summon,
exactly what you want at the click of a button.
Reality is distorted by such perfection,
it takes away the chance at real connection.
If you’re hoping your lady will act like a siren,
you’ll miss all the sexiness that’s worth admirin’.
It’s not her job to put on a show,
yet here she is, and she’s ready to go.
But now you can’t even get it up,
not even when she gives you a hearty warm-up.
Then you’ll blame her for not doing it right,
for wearing the wrong clothes or not being so tight.
When really the sirens have made you totally numb,
sexually impotent and socially dumb.
But what does it matter when you can find online
every variation of sex you could possibly divine?
Do you want to see a nun sucking her thumb
whilst a furry sticks a dildo into her bum?
Just search a few minutes for a visual feast,
a few more clicks and you’ll be watching a priest!
Nothing in real life will ever compare,
to all those things that the sirens choose to share.
But forgotten will be the dirty words said,
or all the smut you have had in a real bed.
Lost will be the memories of true debauchery,
like how she used her tongue like an act of sorcery.
Or the time she dressed up in thigh high boots,
or when she chose not to wear her swimsuits.
Those things all happened, and they happened to you,
but the siren’s call has left you in lieu.
If you think you’re not trapped just take this test,
try going a week without observing a siren’s breast.
Don’t watch, or click, or view them at all.
be honest, how long did it take for you to fall?
If the siren’s call was instead labelled a drug,
you’d be considered an addict, a fiend, a bug.
But because most men are trapped as well,
no one acknowledges their internal hell.
So, heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Tell Me
Erotica, R-18+
Tell me,
why is depravity so enticing?
Why do you feel so at ease
when you are on your knees?
Tell me,
why do you crave dominance?
Why do you feel most free
when you are bound by me?
Tell me,
why is pain your pleasure?
Why do you feel most satisfied
when you are being denied?
Tell me,
why you come back?
Why do feel most desired
when you are being defiled?
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
I Want To See You
Erotica, R-18+
I want to see you.
All of you.
Don’t be shy,
you have all the permission you need.
Be as dirty as you like.
I like you like that,
and we both know
you like you,
when you’re like that.
So,
Pose.
Strut.
Pout.
Dance, prance, and strip.
Make it a show.
Good Girl.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Internet Slut
Erotica, R-18+
I’m an internet slut,
attracting all the eyes,
hands down my pants,
satisfying the guys.
Getting paid,
following my pleasure,
doing what I like,
cumming at my leisure.
Don’t judge,
accept your jealousy,
you’re not as free,
nor sexy as me.
I know you wish,
secretly to copy,
because your efforts just,
leave your men floppy.
But they come back to me,
day after day,
with their time and attention,
oh yes and their pay.
You are too old-fashioned,
too prudish and afraid,
to embrace your sexuality,
and actually get laid.
So, call me a whore,
a trollop, or a tramp,
but we both know your sex game,
needs a serious revamp.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Thick Thighs
Erotica, R-18+
Thick thighs.
Fuck me eyes.
Bondage ties.
Leather disguise.
No compromise.
Pleasure highs.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Say Yes
Erotica, R-18+
I won’t chase you.
I don’t play games.
I speak clearly.
I will tell you what I want.
Then I will wait
for you to decide.
To open up.
To flirt.
To play.
To submit.
To follow.
To let me in.
I will wait for you
to say yes.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Please Dear Lover
Erotica, R-18+
Please dear lover
tell me if you know,
the words to say,
to make you glow.
Please dear lover
tell me if you can,
the places to touch,
to make you a fan.
Say what you will and
touch where you please,
but if you read my mind
you will hold all my keys.
Please dear lover
tell me if you may,
the ways to seduce,
to make your day.
Please dear lover
tell me if you will,
the ways to hold you,
to make your thrill.
Seduce me as you like and
hold me as you must,
but if you read my mind,
you will have all my lust.
Please dear lover
tell me if you might ...
Oh dear lover
I wish you’d stop there,
what I need is for you,
to not so easily scare.
I don’t know what I want
but perhaps we can find out,
make a move and watch,
let’s remove all the doubt.
I may pull back
but unless I say no,
gently try again and
we’ll find our flow.
Please dear lover
let’s experiment together,
try new things
perhaps with some leather?
I would go so far
why can’t you see,
please read my mind
you won’t break me.
Please dear lover
tell me if you might,
the ways to pleasure you,
to make your night.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Welcome To Kink
Erotica, R-18+
I would like to take this opportunity to
Formally welcome you to KINK.
Here we make no judgments, nor do we critique,
We just connect over a shared link.
The desire for mutual satisfaction by
Exploring the many ways of reaching the brink.
We believe in empowered sexuality where
No one feels ashamed or afraid of what they do or think.
All persuasions and preferences are welcome,
We accept you fully. Whatever you drink.
Across time and space we connect,
We promise to bare ourselves fully and never shrink.
We encourage flirting, fucking, fingering, and feeling,
Or just a simple, coy, wink.
We value health and hygiene, so unless you’re into it,
Please shower so that you don’t stink.
We make no attempts to lie or deceive,
To take advantage, or hoodwink.
We commit to playing ethically,
With consent and care, we all stay in sync.
So, play freely; be you a top or bottom,
A switch, bear, fairy, or pink.
This is our pledge. I invite you to join in,
Let’s sign our names below in ink.
- Zachary Phillips
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
‘Twas The Day Of Harvest End
Erotica, R-18+
‘Twas the day of Harvest End,
And the festival was in town.
Liquor and laughter ran free
And all sorts of debauchery abound.
The young and the fun
They played a curious game.
If you catch and kiss a maiden,
She’s yours that night to tame.
The girls would run from the ugly,
Avoiding them at all cost.
But when the studs gave them chase
They’d fall and pretend to be lost.
The older women played it differently,
They gathered in curious groups.
Trapping a prospective man,
Then together tying him in loops.
Bound and gagged,
The man pretended to struggle.
A big smile forming under his face,
As he began the first cuddle.
The wisdom of experience
Caused the women to learn.
To only trap a man of great stamina,
If each was to get a turn.
Now there was the curious case
Of old Jimmy McGuffin
Came home from the party
To two girls wanting some lovin.
They were hiding under his sheets,
Just waiting to surprise him.
Bare as the day they were born,
Just hoping to entice him.
But old Jimmy took his time,
He had played this game before,
Despite his age he’d do this well,
And leave those maidens sore.
On the night of Harvest End,
All persuasions are accepted,
With women donning fake beards and
Men in panties expected.
The town square was divided into rooms,
On each door sat careful labels,
‘Pain’, ‘Domination’ and ‘Groups’
Each with toys on pleasure tables.
The night’s pleasures were more than just cardinal,
Indeed the dice and cards ran hot,
With bets ranging from copper pieces,
Up to entire an farming plot.
Circles gathered for the cock fighting,
More still for the quarter staff,
Where combatants fought till concession,
And none attacked by half.
At the feast table sat peasants and the noble,
Mingling freely for the dinner’s length,
Downing mushrooms, riot weed, and haze
Mixed with liquors of varying strength.
But alas all good things must come to a finish,
Even the day of Harvest End.
For the tomorrow the town goes back to planting,
Sowing next year’s dividend.
And until the festival comes again,
Not a word of yesternight is spoken,
The town returns back to normality,
Actively stifling all their fun emotion.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.