Variations On Emotional Suicide, the new release from wurdz.click on the book to buy it today!

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CEO and founder of Wurdzpoet, Inc. 

Saturday, March 31, 2012

cat had the tongue


cotton candy
called out to me,
in sensuous tones 
that spoke
to the 
madness
which was my desire
for her.
from finely manicured
toes 
my hunger arose
in waves~ 
that pulled my need
closer 
to the boiling point
while upward mobility
directs me.
slowly inhaling
the delicacy
which lay before me,
pink heat
ingested
sweet sweat
with a hint 
of sin.
hands grip
in a show 
of lustful solidarity
daring us to defy
our perfect parity.
succulent lips,
sensitive and sublime,
played tag
with my chin
as thighs
welcomed the search
for misplaced orgasms...
midnight cries 
that sound more like sighs,
explode like thunder
bringing torrents
of cream
that flowed
as red hot
rivers.
wet lips
kiss wet lips
that just tasted
wet lips
and darkness swallowed
our passion.
we dined on slumber,
anticipating
what the morning
would reveal.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

silk vesuvius in the morning



headache,
kissing temples 
of paper mache,
we roll over 
to the glare 
that blinds our weary
eyes.
you bounce up,
late for whatever,
and i remember
the glorious night
before...
at least my version.
round brown
staring back at me
as you jerk
your shirt
and curse 
the worst
words
to come from 
a mouth
so sensual.
you don
your specs,
sit on the edge~
my hands 
find that spot
you showed me
and i
beg,
through 
the manipulation
of your will,
for the bell to sound.
hot lips 
on creamy brown
induces memories
of straddled faces
and 
one,two,three
paces
which made you call out 
for more.
the arch in your back
signals to me
and i lay you down 
gently.
i lick 
the double essence
of eternity
and you moan,
while pushing me
lower.
toes point north
and i feel 
the approach
of pompeii
once more.
the eruption
pulls me in 
as wetness flows
over egyptian 300
and you
smile.



Monday, March 19, 2012

a knight in her court


bearing the scars
of a thousand yesterdays,
she sits...
waiting for the time 
when she can live again.
waits for the hour 
when she can 
stretch tired wings
and soar
into the arms 
that have been prepared 
for her.
a beautiful mind
thrown into a sea
beset 
with a rage 
which haunts and heckles.
betwixt pain and desire,
her course 
is set.
an image 
fades into view
bringing the promise
of a new being...
the wonderment 
which accompanies
heart beats
in duality.
yet again she must
wait.
the structure 
that has been ingrained
bust be realized.
but every woman
has needs...
she fights
the tears of temptation
and remains
rooted.
her time will come
and her knight 
will be one of
valor.


cocoa bean infusion


silky and sweet
is the smell
of her skin
as my eyes devour
all that i can
take.
she likes chocolate...
the texture~
so smooth and rich.
her calling card 
of sorts.
dark and lovely
an ebony symphony 
of delights.
lips
soft and entreating
as my longing is fulfilled 
through the taste 
which i beg for.
she waits...
anticipating the warmth
and i drizzle
her heaving chest
with our 
aphrodisiac.
a small sigh
escapes 
and triggers a moan
of pleasure
that sends chills 
down our collective
needs.
wet and slippery,
the road map
of her curves
calls out 
sending a signal 
that seduces
her valley.
she likes chocolate...
and so do i.

for love of envy


she danced
into my world
and turned it upside right.
hours,days,weeks
became a haze
of delicious fantasies
that she provided 
only for me.
the only thing 
i needed to survive
was her...
embedded 
and wrapped around
my wooden libido.
mocha madness
was our game of choice.
grab the bull
by the horns
and watch
as her heaven
bounced,
like the balls
bounced,
as the bed springs
bounced,
taking us into overtime.
a smile
that invades
my every thought.
sending armies of desire
which implode
upon the touch of her hand.
exotic and erotic
she throws
the scent of a jasmine rose
that encourages the need,
deep in my soul,
to be only for her.
be still my heart,
for if this be 
an illusion
i must savor every drop.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

lucy on the loose



fast and furious
was the design for the night.
she saw him,
he saw her
and the locking of eyes 
was was all they needed
to enter the world of carnality.
his heavy bottom
laid the foundation
for fantasies 
she found 
locked in the dirty dingy
of her clean work week mind.
irish cars 
had been bombed
and they lingered in her head,
while she watched 
him thump like a rabbit.
the trip was fast 
and she had swerved a few times.
but the destination
was achieved.
a trail of designs
led to the love nest
and reverse love 
met mouths
gaping and ready 
for intensity to explode.
spinning,sinning
making the activities
a scintillating search
for that elusive
yet climactic 
scream 
that would sear their
souls.
the old man wasn't snoring
but the vulgarities
and wetness rained
in torrents 
as she rode his head.
the bumping of the bed
made children downstairs
giggle.
that made her ass wiggle
and she landed 
lengthwise 
in a hot heap...
she played his guitar
like it was hers.







Monday, March 12, 2012

the undying bond


you left with the wind
at your back
and weeping
was my reward.
my heart went silent,
as the familiar sound 
it once gave,
was shocked to notice
you weren't near 
to comfort 
it's agonizing feat.
the nights,days and years
went strolling along
at snail speed.
your memory
whispered to me, 
riding the cool night breeze,
and i wondered 
if you remembered 
our moments 
in time.
my answer came
when you strolled back
into my past,
carrying the anger,
tears
and joy 
that only you bring.
the emptiness in my chest
was replaced 
with a rock solid skip
that shook my foundation.
the heart requires love at any cost
but the mind is there to temper 
that impatience.
i had learned to function
without you.
but now the confrontation
was at hand.
we owed it to ourselves
to question cupid's
cruel conundrum.
take hold of my sanity
and be gentle 
with my soul.
kiss me 
softly on the neck
and lay your head
in that familiar spot,
while we dance 
down the road 
of the essence of faith.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

somos uno


skin so succulent~
a rare delicacy.
mocha,caramel.vanilla bean
dancing
a brazing bachata
as the hunger grows
to unmentionable heights.
swish and sway,
my mind ruminates,
now to parlay,
this random meeting
of desires
into the emotional orgy
we all envision.
eyes meet,smiles entreat
and the scenario
is set.
drinks all around,
sensuality flows.
bacardi and hen,
her friend is my friend,
that friend is a friend
of us all
so we can do the deed.
wetness slurps 
wood
while moans of pleasure
ride faces
twisted in emotional bliss.
we slip and slide
on our sides
as the sound of sex
glides to the beat
laid down by our 
thump,thump
thump,thump.
hot sweat
drips onto lips
eager and moist.
bed springs cry out
while humps
turn to ecstasy galore.
a writhing tornado
made of taste and tongues...
daisy chain madness
takes us to a world of delight.
a quartet in transition,
we lay in spent splendor.
ready to play again.


Tuesday, March 6, 2012

scar tissue


she weeps...
silent streaks
that whisper the pain
present
in her yesterday.
bound
by the disappointments 
of loves lost,
she pleads for understanding
which never comes.
only the wretched stains, 
caused by selfish suitors
who drain
the smiles and hopes
from a soul so gentle,fragile
and rare
are her reward.
sitting with a box
made of gold,
memories in tow,
she wonders
if it should ever be opened
again.
for in this fortress,
the remains 
of a tattered heart
speak in pangs
of contentment
that were merely an illusion
in bloom.
the very thought...
years tucked neatly away
which only mattered
in the scheme 
put forth by faded
commitment.
yet that fragment
seems a distant prayer,
as her mind seeks refuge
from emotional abandonment,
induced
by those in whom
she once put trust.
lifting her face and hands
to the heavens,
weary from trials,
she yearns
to be 
seen.



Saturday, March 3, 2012

yin yang yippee


tongue slithers,
like a panther's hungry stare,
she's full aware~
seeing my dangling angle
placed perfectly
at the tip
of her lips.
can we,
should we
do the naughty things
that mama warned about
and mourned about 
to her devout
religious child?
the sheets drip
with oil and sweat,
taking hold of her head,
sliding in slow,
as far as it can get.
yet the reflex
denies my pleasures 
in the dark.
a quick flip
and six faces nine.
our sexy samba
plays bedroom tag
as the sound 
of in and out
echoes to the chagrin
of nosey neighbors.
bangs on the wall
make daddy's picture fall.
no longer can his shattered pride
spy
on baby girl's activities.
simultaneous sensation
erupts...
we ride the low tide
and simmer 
to the sounds of copy cats.

in flight


into the expanse
a soul floats.
soaring over the forgotten memories
labeled yesteryear,
embracing the turmoil
born of tomorrow.
tears,
soaked into indistinct
faces
withered from the anger
and confusion infused
by time,
take the reverse course
and share a tale
patwa heavy,
laden with heritage.
set free
to roam the universe~
no longer a secretive
dream.
now adrift in the hereafter
singing,
"when we could fly."
sorrow is no more...
for the understanding
bred of knowledge
tells of eternity 
once known.


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