Oct 19 2005
Particle Accelerator
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.
Oct 19 2005
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.
Oct 19 2005
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.
Oct 19 2005
My Ass
by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©
My ass offends.
Its crass, my ass,
Releasing gas as
Passers by vie for
Fresh air.
Oct 19 2005
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.
Oct 19 2005
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.
Oct 19 2005
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.
Oct 19 2005
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?
Oct 19 2005
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
Oct 19 2005
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.
Oct 19 2005
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.