THE KINKY POET

When you reach full bloom

Pushing through the entangled weed, the Rose struggled to find the room, with the crushing weight of weeds and vines, she couldn't start to bloom.

Then along came the poet, with words as sharp as knives, he cut away the weeds of doubt and gave her back her life

Free from entanglement, she stood up straight and tall, the poet helped in anyway, to the Rose he gave his all

He made sure she was watered, she was sheltered from the cold, he cleared the last weeds away, she grew up strong and bold

She saw no more cloudy days, she just basked in his loves Sun, he told her she was so beautiful, she knew she was the One

That One very special Rose, who's beauty was beyond compare, nutured into Rose like Goddess, by the poets love and care

Her petals as soft as Velvet, they glisten in the morning dew, she is so very special, of which they're are so few

I'm such a lucky poet, to find this wonderous Rose, I'll try my best to help her, I only hope she knows

I can sit and watch her, now she has the space and room, to grow on to be the greatest Rose, when her beauty has reached  full bloom

The Kinky Poet 

Word fuck

Do you want to play with me far across the Internet, get yourself comfy, we haven't started yet

The game is called word fuck, its sex inside our heads, fucking without touching, whilst miles apart in separate beds

We start off with teasing so you get nice and wet, you tell me secrets, so I'm as hard as I can get

Then I'll tell you what to do, like stroke your tits and bum, you tell me to wank myself, until we get to cum

It's all about word play, a Sapiosexual kind of thing, intimate descriptions, and the sensations they can bring

You can use some sex toys, just tell me when you're moist damp, if you've got a butt plug in, or using a nipple clamp

It's a form of Textual intercourse, fucking whilst online, me and you together, no rush we'll take our time

Get each other to the edge, both to reach orgasm, is the final aim, cumming hard together, will end the fucking game

We spend time swopping pleasantries, checking we both had lots of fun, then with a kiss we separate, our connection will be done

So if you fancy playing word fuck, just drop the boy a line, we can organise a day, we can put aside some time

The Kinky Poet 

The taste

I wonder what you taste like, i guess inside my head, i imagine that it's Peach flavoured, when dreaming in my bed

I bet it tastes like heaven, like a very special wine, delicious to run around my tongue, I'm sure it is devine

Slowly dripping from your pussy, I'd love to take a sip, or collect it from my fingers, once they've had a little dip

I'm sure juice from my fingers, would taste superb of course but I'd rather go down on you and take it from its source

Maybe it tastes like Strawberry or a delicious fresh whipped cream, I can only guess from here, only imagine in a dream

I only know one thing for sure, I'd never eat in haste, I'd take my time enjoying you, no drop would go to waste

So whatever real flavour that you are, I hope you tell me straight, because I'll never taste you by some cruel twist of fate

Your are many miles away, you just walk amongst my dreams, destined to a mind fuck or that's just how it seems

So please do me a favor, next time you're getting wet and hot, taste your pussy's juice for me, let me know the taste you got

The Kinky Poet 

Pussy selfie

Today I have a task for you, if you're brave enough to play, follow my instructions, just do the things I say

I want to see your pussy Close up, so spread your legs real wide, take a pussy selfie, so I can see inside

Let me see your petals, so pretty and quite pink, let me feel I'm Close enough, that I could have a drink

A soft shaven pretty mound, that I'm close enough to kiss, let me see each pretty fold, inside would be my wish

See your pussy glistening, to glance upon your hood, to see your clit just showing, i bet you taste so good

Looking at your pretty pussy, as if I had my head between your thighs, makes me feel so hungry, I let out some tiny sighs

Because even though its close enough, your pussy I could lick, in truth its many miles away and this is just a pic

The Kinky Poet 

Panty check

I want to check your panties, I want to see your cum, I'd like to see your soaked gusset once my poems done

See you seeping through the lace, a damp patch I need to see, produced by my dirty words, especially for me

Soaked where you played with yourself, sitting on your seat, reading of your holes I'd fill, if we ever meet

I'm glad you dont take them off, I love to see the stain, remnants of your pussy's juice, where it poured like rain

Silk panties, lace panties or the everyday ones you wear, as long as they’re nice and damp, I'll know that I've been there

So when your alone today, or maybe in a crowd, take the time to read my thoughts, in your head but not out loud

Then you'll feel the dampness start, you'll need a panty check, you will feel me fucking you and placing kisses on your neck

So as your shifting in your seat, or twitching in your bed, it's me I've come to turn you on, I'm playing in your head

The Kinky Poet 

Time to part

Would you say the words I love you, if it wasn't so, Would you pretend to care for me, out on some kind of loyal show

Hold my hand in public, kiss me tenderly on the cheek, though we've both been arguing and hadn't spoken for a week

Play the game of couples, when you wanted to be free, just because you didn't have the courage or the nerve, just to talk to me

How long would you drag it out, before you let it finally die, would you explain your reasons, would you even try

Sitting in our living room, we might as well be both alone, me watching t.v., whilst you're playing on your mobile phone

When did the love die, or did we just let it slip away, we should get this finished, it's time we each went a separate way

You deserve real happiness, I'm sure for me I want that too, so now I got to tell you, I'm not  in love with you

I don't know where it all went wrong, I don't want to make you cry, I know we're not happy, so I guess this is goodbye

I hope you find true happiness, I do with all my heart, so I'm leaving now forever, it's time for us to part

The Kinky Poet

Plain white shirt

Such a normal item, people wear them everyday, office types, lawyers and doctors, at work, at rest and play

Then the time it changes, when erotic desires fill my head, is the thought of you wearing one sitting on your bed

Unbuttoned to the naval, your skin so pale and white, glimpses of your nipples, a sight of pure delight

I wonder what it would look like, if you'd undone some more, or how sexy would it be, if you showed a little more

Perhaps if it was fully open, just draped across your skin, I could see more of you, oh now my minds run off to sin

I could slide my hands inside it, wrap my arms around your waist, pull you slowly towards me, your lips I want to taste

Run my hands across you, feeling every sexy part, to stroke your lovely body, to feel your racing heart

Take hold the shirt quite gently, I need to see much more, I take it off your shoulders and slide it to the floor

We make love with a passion, with a intention rarely seen, clawing, biting fucking hard, its an animalistic scene

Desires taken over, wild firey passion has control, caught up in this sexual union, tonight romance has lost its soul

A hunger, in need, both ravenous, we both take the things we need, allowing our sexual demons out, it's time to let them feed

Saited and exhausted, both fed we need no more, I glance down at the White Cotton shirt, now crumpled on the floor

Who knew that such passion, could hide beneath a plain White shirt, I guess it depends on whose wearing it, my sexy little flirt

The Kinky Poet

The poet and the Rose

He stands there in silence, the wordsmiths tries in vain, he cannot find the words to describe this Rose, there's nothing in his brain

Every descriptive word he thinks of, simply will not do, they are not even close to, describing the beauty that is you

No words can describe her softness, he can't describe her smell, he stands there with Quill in hand, but has no ink in his well

Lost in admiration, bedazzled by the deep Green colour of her leaves, she is so breath taking, he finds it hard to breath

Even her sharp and jagged thorns, still have a certain charm, though they're to protect her, he knows they'll do no harm

Grasping for the right words, he can't find that special line, the poet stands dumbfounded, he cannot find the rhyme

So forgive him for his failure, he's tried with all his might, to tell the world of your beauty.
one day he'll get it right

So until then accept his offering, forgive how the stanzas stumble, he tried his best to write for you, though all he did was fumble

He cannot work out what to say, he looks to the Gods above, then he realises why, its the affliction known as love

The Poet is in love with the Rose, so all words would fail to say, how beautiful you are to him, though he's tried to write today

The Kinky Poet

Rocket man

Climb aboard my rocket, let us fly to outer space, see the stars and planets, pass right before your face

Wrap your legs round tightly, the count downs just begun, ready for the trip of your lifetime, are you ready, Three, Two, one

I'll fire my rockets boosters, the bed begins to shake, we're leaving the earths atmosphere, a few last breaths of air you take

Pushing through our gravity, your body floats around, lost in complete ecstasy, your feel you're off the ground

Stars and planets pass you by, constellations shine so bright, all these things are new to you, this is your maiden flight

Higher forever higher, your mind wanders in deep space, your breathing geting quicker, as your heart begins to race

You can see the brightest light, this must be the Sun, the closer you get to it, the more you want to cum

I flick on my secondary engine's, they give me added thrust, no one can hear you scream in space, but still you think you must

Screaming to the heavens, you grasp out for the spaceman hand, you know the journeys over, now its time to land

Earth soon comes into view, though they're just pictures in your head, you've travelled through the cosmos,  but your still in my bed

Thank you for flying with me, I'll take you places no one can, just climb upon my spaceship, for I am the rocket man

The Kinky Poet

The kinky poet

I am just a poet, I write whilst crippled in my bed, from erotica or Vampires and Roses, whatever grows inside my head

Bondage, whipping, floggings, outfits worn for sex roll play, the kinks inside my poetry change from day to day

Tales of abduction, locked up in a dungeon, dark and deep, tales of pretty pussy's and how I love to make them seep

Handcuffs and being tied down, with rope, zip ties and chains, an endless list of fucking styles, that hide deep inside my brain

I also write of sweet romance, of a never ending deeper love, of Angels disguised as mere mortals, sent from high above

Tales full of passion and sexual games so full of lust, relationships between Dom and Subs and how they're built on trust

So I thought I was just a poet, who wrote poems about the thoughts I think, it seems there's more than that to me, I'm a poet with a kink

T.K.P.