Archive for the 'Poetry' Category

Oct 19 2005

Particle Accelerator

Published by under Poetry

Particle Accelerator
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

That which has come has gone,
This song is sung,
This bell has rung.
This road we walked has
Wound its way home,
To face this moment naked and alone.

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Oct 19 2005

Objectification

Published by under Poetry,Politics

Objectification
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

That’s a fine set of tits, baby!
Nice ass, too.

We know the words too well,
The words that define us,
You and me.

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Oct 19 2005

My Ass

Published by under Art,Family,Food,Poetry

My Ass
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

My ass offends.
Its crass, my ass,
Releasing gas as
Passers by vie for
Fresh air.

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Oct 19 2005

Ménage à Trois (Alone in a Hotel Room at 1 AM)

Published by under Poetry

Ménage à Trois (Alone in a Hotel Room at 1 AM)
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

Thin walls reveal, too well,
the aspirations of my neighbors.

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Oct 19 2005

Man-Paste

Published by under Art,Poetry

Man-Paste
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

[Note: This poem was created with words considered to be most hated by the poets of Literotica]

Sausage, bubbling with
Maggots and Man-Paste,
Squishes between my toes
As my throbbing manhood drips
Phlegm.

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Oct 19 2005

Lickety Split

Published by under Poetry

Lickety Split
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

I love to see you smile
as pleasure plays upon your face.
This sweet embrace, a sticky kiss,
dissolves the self into a bliss
that runs from nose to tippy toes
and back again.

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Oct 19 2005

Justice

Published by under Poetry,Politics

Justice
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

How do we know right from wrong?

Why do the strong abuse the weak,
the smart mock we that are slow?

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Oct 19 2005

It’s Inappropriate

Published by under Poetry

It’s Inappropriate
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

It’s inappropriate to touch your thigh
To breathe softly on your neck
To brush my fingers across your cheek
It’s inappropriate to taste your skin
To thrill at the quick intake of breath
To slide my hands slowly down your back

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Oct 19 2005

I Go

Published by under Poetry

I Go
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

This moment expands,
Stretching out beyond my knowing.
Your hands hold my head as
Your tears touch me.
I comfort you in your grief,
Smile gently to ease your loss,
And do not speak of the pain that
Rends us.

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Oct 19 2005

How To Bury A Quaker

How To Bury A Quaker
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

I drop the kids off at the pool,
Bake a brownie,
Make doughnuts,
Make some non-edible play-doh, and
Deliver an apple brown betty.

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