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. 

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

catnip by candlelight



a midday
manifestation of mischief
called to her
and she
acknowledged
the need to feed.
it was naughty
but necessary...
the rumbling,
between thick thighs,
elicited familiar behavior
and a warm sigh
as she succumbed
to devious delights
which reeked
of satisfaction.
curiosity
doesn't kill her cat.
it just purrs
in gentle strains
which soothe
the canine lusts
of her invited conquest.
knock, knock
"entrez vous?"
he brought wine,
to emphasize
the wicked things
he planned to do.
hungry hands
slide
across supple skin
and the festivities begin.
dark room, candlelight
blindfold
to blur her sight,
while he teased
the spots
which begged
to be pleased.
wet kiss fantasies
glide
through licked lips
and create
libido drenched
highs...
church bells chime
at the stroke of three,
releasing
pent up frustrations
finally set free.
a taste,
to savor
her last few drops,
and they drift,
quietly drift...

Saturday, October 5, 2013

pink



silent tears
stream
down, down,
lost in the swirl
of rain shower
warmth.
she feels
that part of her
which defines beauty,
sensuality
and desire.
a gentle cup,
press then rub.
her mind wonders
to mama
and what she was told 
to look for.
is it there?
the dreaded thing
which threatens
to pull depression
from the womb
of happiness?
one more time...
this was not the future
laid out
in her best plans.
mouthing prayers,
while soft squeezes soft,
a slow stroll
brings her face to face
with lost hope
and tainted faith.
she curses the woman
who looks back at her.
how could she let this happen?
head in hands,
tired, listless 
emotions
drag her to the kitchen.
one, four, five
shots of tequila,
before glass shatters
against black & blue backsplash.
she hums melancholy coltrane,
dances and twirls
to the syncopated loneliness, 
and collapses
onto cold white linoleum.
with puffy eyes,
pink from indulging denial,
she laughs herself to sleep
and dreams
of black & white yesterdays.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

riding the wave of throttled insanity



her music plays...
silky smooth,
spontaneous rips
over syncopated riffs
and shadows
that move in time,
as muddled reminders
in my mind.
i beg release
from the essence
of what draws me closer
to the borrowed
death,
which heckles
relentlessly,
any attempts
to purge my desirous
addiction
to her.
remy and blacks,
she scaled back,
i fear not her evil,
even though
the needle tracks
race up her arm
in droves.
but it's an improvement
over wire tapped lobes.
her music sways...
the skin,
the loco motion
is all i crave.
sweaty loins
and heaving thrusts,
at any given moment,
it's only in her i trust.
my decency has long gone
astray.
her lipstick,
red as the lust
of our indecent
liaison,
leaves wet trails
which ignite
spontaneous eruptions
that feed the corruption
we embrace so true.
emotionless smiles,
powered by her pity
for the creature
she has spawned.
but each body obeys
the rhapsody,
found in heightened
fine tuning,
and soars
in majestic triumph.
her music frays...
yet it will play
again.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

the request




she asked me
what i did 
and i told her
that my words 
were the essence
of things to come.
she smiled...
"you're a writer?"
i smirked,
returned a slow nod
and sat on the edge
of the bed.
"show me..."
she clicked
the switch
for some
boney james,
lit a candle
and dared me
to go insane,
on the supple sensuality
she bared for my pleasure.
threw my hat 
and leaned back,
with the stealth
of a lioness
she attacked
my ego.
shirt ripped,
neck nipped,
sweat sipped...
then she was flipped.
because she wanted me
to show her.
piston dances
while slow grinding
advances
us towards the peak
she so eagerly seeked
when challenging 
my physical muse.
legs wrapped in carnal
delight
as moans drenched
in ecstasy 
play a sinister game
of tag with her lips.
we feel the drip, drip
of her upon me
and prepare 
for the glory
she wanted to see.
scratched back,
rhythmic headboard.
a push back,
she was on board.
...and the fire died.
embers,
burning at the end 
of a filter-tip,
as she remembers
i'm a writer.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

adrift on the sensuality curve



sugar coated visuals
spurred 
by torrid bouts
of clandestine wishes,
pulled them 
into a wonderland
filled with decadent delights.
chocolate upon cocoa,
drenched
in a sea of swarming 
undulation and seduction,
their sighs
reach heights
unknown to the naked libido
and the sounds
of rhythmic bed springs
foretell a future
held in limbo.
bound 
through lustful longings
and entwined 
heartbeats,
the pull 
of oneness
saturates wet lips
and sweaty hips 
while roaming hands
dive and dip
into areas that cause
tantric explosions.
dancing together
in a unison 
borne of desire
and fed
through intravenous
hits
which spark 
passion drenched sighs
and melodic cries
before souls
are electrified
in sweet release.
deep into double brown,
the stares 
are returned.
quickened pulse
subsides into 
thump, thump
thump, thump
while angry flesh
screams for an encore.
tongues,
wet with wonderment,
glide across glistening avenues
and reminisce
over the bliss
of majestic memories.






Sunday, June 16, 2013

can you see me, papa?



are you watching me?
can you 
see the way
i walk 
and stand,
telling others
that you 
are my beginning?
i can still see those hands...
wringing and gripping,
as you pondered
over things,
that would
become my concern,
later in life.
i can still hear
your laughter,
when
 i watch
the same things
we watched
when i was knee high.
yet now it comes 
from  deep within my soul.
a booming, riotous
imitation
which sometimes
brings tears
to my eyes.
we never
went fishing,
tossed a ball around,
or even
shared a drink
as men...
all the things
that 
fathers and sons
attempt 
to experience.
yet what you did give
was
a lifetime of learning
and fond memories
that i still cherish
eternally.
can you see me papa?
am i the man 
you wanted me to be?
sometimes,
i wring my hands too,
and wish,
with all my heart
i could see you
nod your head
in approval...



Sunday, April 14, 2013

oreo fantasy #69



sweet and delicate
a fruit 
which beckons 
to me
spurring pangs 
of want.
yet in my wildest 
moments
i dare not mention
the tasty temptations
that have become
a sultry staple
in my quest
for satisfaction.
black & white
rendezvous
as we twist and turn,
pulling sheets,
exploring
nooks and crannies
that burn 
with the intensity
borne from our greed.
though in honesty,
the cause is
extreme 
and 
simplistic.
a touch,
the mere scent
of  honey and vanilla
translates
to the most basic
urges
and the satiation 
factor
dims all logic.
lost in the swell
only to be
drowned
as a return 
to normalcy
is feeble.
placing a premium
on fine detail,
the odds are perfect
for a tantalizing
romp
through dark fantasies
while libidos
play catch and kiss
with 
cream drenched 
dreams of chocolate delight.
nectar infused wetness,
being suckled
from
 goddess bred thighs.
a black moon rises,
in the twilight of passion
and the vision 
is alive.
a work of art,
nay a masterpiece
set in eternity...
for nothing else 
could be as complete.








Saturday, March 9, 2013

urban siren



she knows
the power of the tongue
and uses it well.
driving them insane,
with swerves
and curves
that tickle their
fancies,
her wishes
become the demands
that wreak havoc
with felines 
and canines.
they look down,
as she works her magic,
casting wicked spells
that cause
spills and chills.
uncontrollable gyrations
and palpitations
randomly seize 
cranial 
objectivity
and douse the dreaded
beast
with slippery slurps
and butterfly kisses
that usurp
all rationale
through
unbound ecstasy.
candy licker, 
extraordinaire,
her skills
are renowned,
 setting the standard
everywhere.
yet her golden throat
and enticing smiles
can not hide
the inky blackness
which engulfs
her heart
as she devours
the souls
of her lovers.
a temptress
longing for love
yet finding only takers
who see nothing
more than the entrance
to satisfaction...
she drowns her headaches
in hen
and once again begins
her descent
to remain the best.









Sunday, March 3, 2013

night of the suck face



a blood lust
nay
mental extortion,
engulfs 
the only iota
of  resistance
i have left to claim.
from the moment
you were allowed 
to sashay
within my walls,
built by the need
for sanctuary,
we have become
feuding
enigma
of freudian fantasy
and lurid lust.
we churn
in an embattled 
reality,
laden with conflicted
thirsts and desires, 
that stabs
with unyielding
ferocity.
yet i come back,
i return,
i come back
to the familiar pain
which has become 
a beacon 
for my sordid need.
remaining a slave
to your hunger
has turned my vision
into a blur,
my tomorrows
into hopelessness
and feeble attempts
at escape.
i lie to myself
and yearn,
uncontrollably,
for the insanity
 which gives comfort.
drain the humanity
i've come to loathe
and make me 
a bottom feeder
like you.








Sunday, February 24, 2013

dance of the platonic playmates



electromagnetic
tendencies
of the flesh
have pulled us
into this cacophony
which we call
release.
heavy breathing,
sighs on the up beat,
strokes on the down,
while trails
salty and hot
run
rampant
over cucumber melon
and musk.
a tantalizing mixture
that sends
shock waves,
tinged with longing,
to nerve endings
pounding with desire.
a caress,
a kiss,
tongues dancing
under 
the pale moonlight
as we tumble
to and fro.
in rhythm, rhythm
and your back arches
to signal
the arrival
of oceanic riptides
that tear caverns
of pleasure.
skin pulsating
from the beat
caused by racing hearts...
silent cries
that echo 
the return
of another crescendo.
fleeting moments
filled with tastes
so coveted and assured.
we feed the hunger
and dine on remnants
of lustful yearnings
as the night
consumes us.


Saturday, February 9, 2013

cowgirl dreams




cold heat
in the middle 
of the first thirty.
an awakening
forged by desire
and consummated
in the sighs
of pleasure
mingled 
with groans 
of delight.
slithering tongues
which capture the aroma
contained
in burning ecstasy.
wet friction 
hugs hardened steel
as soft kisses
tingle the spot
and a return to rest
is no longer an option.
hands roam,
skin ignites
under the guise
of torrid pumps
and lips part
in anticipation...
the shakes
travel in pairs
producing arched backs
and damp moans
that propel
the need.
gyrating,
pulsating
in time to the tick,
tick
countdown 
before injection
is trumped 
by erotic tidal waves.
she winds
like a calypso dancer
to pull forth
the army of white
which beats
to the music 
buried in their rhythm.
heavy breathing
signals the arrival
they've been expecting
and mounds 
of delight
collapse in exhaustion
upon his chest.
salty sheets
tell a wicked tale
which ends to soon
for both.



Sunday, January 13, 2013

poetry of the sullen dance



the words
came seldom,
as of late,
and we seemed to drift 
apart.
seeing each other 
became a chore
and all we did 
was bicker 
about things
that didn't amount
to 
a hill of legumes.
the sparkle faded...
you said 
the world
had made you tired
and rest was the key.
i decided
it was all an elaborate
scam
to pull out
 those emotions
locked deep beneath
the caverns
of caring
in my heart.
that powerful smile
turned silent...
you talked 
children,
past loves,
making amends 
for the wrongs 
doled out.
you saw her...
a vision of the one 
who sacrificed 
so that life
would be complete.
it was time
to fly.
so as the soil
fell from my hand
and words 
were suddenly found,
it was to late.
now 
the arguments,
disagreements
and
lazy words
stare at me
like hanging darts.
because 
my stubborn mind
refuses to accept
i'm alone.


Saturday, January 5, 2013

rendezvous





the beat 
of the bass
bumps.
baby, 
it's cold outside
but warm inside
and fingers slide
along curves
which sing 
the desire of the night.
wine and candlelight
whisper
directions
that direct tongues,
lips
into dizzy trips
that end up 
tasting hips
and emotions
flip.
 thoughts
of satin sheets
lie in wait
as hands roam 
like drunken sailors
inhaling
every sensuous moment.
breathing
at a frenzied pace,
predestined visions
of pearl and lace,
while kisses 
leave trails of heat
on sweaty soft skin.
a devious moan
creates
 the warmth
that we both crave.
vanilla wetness
arrives...
carousel motion
carries us 
towards an explosion
that mounts,
from your mounting,
fueled 
by impulsive giggles
and fetish nibbles
that drown our sensibilities.
we ride the wave
of cream filling
and ease our way
down from
heaven.






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