S ucculent nectar of full plumped peach
laid bare engorged deliciousness
peeled open in promised sweet delight
ecstatic vision of tender flesh
tart sweet tingle at tip of tongue
such sweetness surely is taboo
my mouth thrills at the juicy pulp
my lips glisten sweetest nectar’s dew
breathing in the rich bouquet
all senses teased and tantalized
my mouth devours the dripping treat
again and again ‘til satisfied
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Soaring psychedelic
colors pierce my eyes
to bleed into my mind
pulsing into shapes
and melting forms
dancingly irregular
a brilliant cacophony
of fully beautiful discord
that flows in time displacement
blared breathing blending abstract
wow dude!
~~ drifting drifting ~~
so wondrous and magical
as to create a dreamspace
where reality steps away
to a seductive fantasy
that roils and broils
a seething serenade
of sounds and vision
a sanctified vibration
simply too gone!
immaculate!
joyful noise’d orblets
flaring and flashing
in hues and shades
in timbre’d cadences
they spark stiletto sharp
stabbing staccato’d stealthy
and again colors pierce my eyes
lovely rumblings fill full my ears
shifting spinning and floating
to journey a’new through
my beautiful bountiful
and utterly blown
mind garden
}|=|{
psssst! hey! you!
am I conscious man —
— or halluuucinating truuuth?
My daughter and son surprised, I should say shocked me yesterday, revealing the name and photo of my actual birth father — and the name of my birth mother. This information was unknown to me for 74 years. In fact, I was unaware my kids were genealogy mining. I was stunned to look at the picture my son showed me of a man, heretofore unknown to me, and quite clearly and eerily see “myself” — and the unmistakable faces of my son and daughter. Joseph Lawrence Perrmann and Evelyn Tieke — my birth father and mother. I was utterly floored. Using De’s prompt, I’ve created an imagined romantic scenario of that day they met, and I was conceived as a post WWII bastard — later to be placed in a “sealed” adoption.
what a most unususl place
to find such beauty
he muses to himself
as he paints her fondly
with his admiring eyes
“come here often miss”
he rolls off his lips
with a slow sly smile
“only when my laundry’s dirty”
she smiles back
with a perky snap
“what brought you in mister”
she banters jokingly
“like you, dirty laundry”
he emphasizes dirty
“you got a big load there”
she observes coyly
with a lingered downward glance
“you got a nice full basket too”
drawing ‘nice’ to a sly sssizzle
“what’s your name”
he asks, seductively
“Evelyn, what’s yours”
she flirts back
“Joe, but friends call me JL
you can just call me
whatever feels good to you, Evelyn”
he offers with an inviting smile
“can I call you Eve”
“sure, Eve is nice
what’s the L for, Joe”
“Lawrence — Joseph Lawrence Perrmann
purr, you know — like a cat”
“I’m Eve, Eve Tieke
you know, like the wood”
she says
“wa d’ya do JL,
rather, Joe”
she teasingly purrs
“I’m now a cop,
was Navy shore patrol,
I’m just back from war”
“where’s your gun officer”
she coaxs
“I keep it holstered
until I need t’use it”
he warns mockingly
“is it a big gun, Joe”
feigning wonder
“it’ll do the job Eve
you like guns”
“not usually
but I bet yours is nice”
she says breathily
they continued chatting
and flirting
while they laundered
growing more interested
and mutually attracted
just then
buzzzzz
“well, laundry’s dry Eve
wanna help each other fold”
she looks around
“these tables are awfully small”
she replies encouragingly
“I live just around the block Joe
and I have the perfect table”
“great Eve, let’s go there
and fold together
— how does that sound”
he asks suggestively
“purr-fect, Joe
I would love to fold with you”
she says directly into his eyes
“OK,
then let’s go
show me the way Eve”
they pause
their imaginations fully engaged
smiling deeply into each others eyes
“OK” Eve says warmly
body language relaxed
eyes willing
then JL turns
grabs both baskets
full of their warm laundry
and out the door they go
together
and into my history
Poetry at: dVerse
Sorry for this interruption. Feel free to ignore this section and move directly down to the poem, if you choose. The poem is much more sensual and dreamy. This first section is cold, no-filtered, stark reality — fully and sincerely expressed, as I see it. You see, I need to sum up my final, perhaps controversial thoughts, on the issue of protest, introduced here last Thursday. I have been slowly simmering since then: Love MUST win. My proud hippie soul tells me it can — it must for earth, and her human tribe to flourish. As naive and pollyanna as this may sound, I haven’t lived nearly 74 years believing that peace, love, and intelligence will find a way — to simply stand by and see these qualities of integrity snd dignity trampled beneath the feet of humankind’s baser instincts. Perhaps good people have turned the other cheek for too long. Maybe being passively resigned to the perpetraters of evil is not the way. Perhaps it requires an extreme natural culling of the tribe to remove the evil, the result of the arrogant stupidity of that group. Whether I should revel in that possibility is something my peaceful self has been truly struggling with the past few years — since the extinguishing of the Obama light. It goes against my nature. But the continuing greedy, destructive, and heartless ways must end, or perhaps be brought to an end. At my age and health, I, and most of my Aquarian generation, can’t, or won’t, effectively mount the resistance. We lack the stamina or money, or both. Too many among my generation, who may be capable, have lost the vision — turned during the mine-me-first Reagan 80’s, and the grab-fest in the years that followed. I feel we need responsible, strong young leaders to organize on a large scale, activate on a broad scale. It breaks my heart to say it — but me and my generation, we failed. Those who are coming after us, can’t afford to — or humankind and this great spaceship earth, truly are fucked! The power can belong to the young — take it, and wield it wisely! Sorry if I shocked or offended. Just the honest humble opinion of a tired old man. Not too tired to *** VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! ***
That Velvet
would I were that velvet
that she reaches for so fondly
strokes with delicate pure fingers
with soft silken hands she lingers
embraces to her bosom
wraps ’round her slender shoulders
tingles with excitement
as she surrenders to its touch
would I were that velvet
that drapes her lilting essence
that falls and folds and fondles
as she ascends the stairs each night
the plush and luscious fiber
that rises on her breasts
with each soft and subtle sigh
each deep impassioned breath
oh would I were that velvet
that glides her naked form
on those sunset autumn evenings
enwraps her perfect body warm
that chills and thrills in shivers
as she opens it ‘neath moonlight
and swoons hushed smouldered gasps
as she blooms forth firm and pleasured
oh would I were that velvet
would I were that velvet
oh sweet sensuous angel
would I were
would I were
rob kistner © 2012
(revision © 2020)
Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines erotic as: “of, relating to, exciting, or expressing sexual attraction or desire”
~
I’m a kindle’d lover’s pyre
tinder poised
with slightest spark
near to burn
wrapped steaming
in eager hungry arms
achingly we yearn
your graceful face
wanton aglow
comely raised and tilted back
my fingers tangled in your hair
swept away in lustful swoon
you’re Hedone’s daughter
lush with nectar
afire in ardor’s golden flame
that folds upon you soft as satin
down glistening back
that tempting tapers
to the tender
warm and sultry
a wonderland for fingertips
mine touch
and tease
and tantalize
we explore
full measure
our quivering bodIes
mine chiseled firm
hammered hard
smooth as stone
with Himeros’s brand
your divinely-pleasing
sculpted vessel
brought forth
by Aphrodite’s hand
flesh-fruit swells full and ripe
a silhouette to hypnotize
enticing in the candle’s flicker
we fondle freely with wanting eyes
I twist and tweak
your blossomed berries
that burst
engorged with passion’s heat
my teeth to nip and tug
draw to my lips
to taste
your tender touch
soft loving stroke
drawn slow ‘n steady
ignites my need
now full ready
to firm express
my willful hands
of pleasured probing
wrap slender waist
then slowly slide
‘cross pleading hips
of sensuous rise
to fall in frail folds of eros
molded from the charms of Venus
’round dual swells of burning myth
that writhe
atop two lathen’d stems
long and lithe
as liquid love
turned by pleasure’s gloried angels
tempered in a sacred fire
stretched taut
arched high
in carnal roil
we entwine
god and goddess buff
beyond delirium
I enter rough
we thrust and thrust
in randy lust
’til passion’s seed
has turned to dust
and our wanton
carnal
flames
are snuffed
love’s raging madness
at last rebuffed
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2020
NOTE to “Blogger” site owners: I enjoy reading your work, but frustratingly, many “Blogger” sites DO NOT let me post comments? 🙂 So sorry if you don’t see personal comments from me on your “Blogger” site. But I will keep reading your work — and welcoming and responding to your comments here on Image & Verse.
Poetics: Exploring Erotica as a Literary Genre (what makes a poem erotic?)
and so
I think of her
and wonder
what was the fire
that burned so bright
and raged so fierce
as to consume complete
our essence
left embered char
smoldered ashen
that in its heat
and fury
could not sustain
back I drift
to fall upon
the tenderness of youth
the satin skin
the comely gaze
the velvet touch
a silken voice
rising
to lust and longing
to impatience
to immortality
its soulful siren
so seductive
the nectar of all forbidden
the breathless joy
of sweet innocence
when the wonder
stirs to every mystery
and the spirit lights
to every spark
igniting passion’s pyre
to leave one spent
in blissful ruin
at story’s end
tender memory
of the throaty whispers
of promised pleasures
sweetly secreted
in her virgin kiss
and so
I think of her
remembering
with no regret
savoring the subtle linger
harbored in my heart
of the taste
of her lips
long ago
at seventeen
~ ~
“lips lush as cognac
open softly to kisses
urgently linger”
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2010
(revision © 2019)
________________
~
she’s left only her jacket on
unbuttoned
blousing open
the gold of her badge
glints fetchingly
in the glow of candlelight
her breasts
partially veiled
soft in the amber wash
gently rise and fall
with her heavy breath
helplessly
my eyes glide her length
fondled warmly
by the lush half-light
folding upon her
from the single flame
they pause
entranced by the velvet flower
sensuously shadowed
in the satin cleft
where supple limb
meets supple limb
intoxicated by this vision
I can only stare
and melt
utterly arrested
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2012
The “X” rated 2018 version
she removes the rest of her wespons
and places them on the ground
she is now unarmed
but she is still packin’
unzipping
she lets her regulation uniform trousers
slide in a nylon rustle
down her thigh high lace tops
to fall
gathered at her sculpted ankles
leaving her regulation leather heels on
she steps over her slacks
abandoned at her feet
she walks toward me slowly
hips pivoting left then right
taut thighs mesh silken
swish swish swish
placing one foot
in front of the other
striding with authority
heels sounding
click click click
she approaches
backlit by the red and blue pulses
of the BMW’s frenzied lightbar
she stops
straddling over me
as I am handcuffed
sitting on the highway
leaning agaist the door
of my Audi R8
popping and snapping
as the 610 hp’s cool
she unbottons her regulation jacket
and drops it at my side
she’s left only her regulation shirt on
as she unbuttons
it blouses open
her body badge is revealed
the gold glints fetchingly
as it dangles
on a thick leather cord
from around her smooth firm neck
resting nestled
in the perfect cleavage
of her pert young
braless breasts
no
these are tits
perfect tits
right out of a teen’s temptation
aglow in amber warning lights
her nipples
proudly erect
partially veiled
soft in the amber wash
gently rise and fall
with her heavy breathing
leaning over
fixing me with her fiery eyes
she speaks
“you were driving recklessly – sir”
then rips away her black string thong
helplessly
looking up
my eyes glide slowly
lustfully down her length
fondled warmly
by the flashing golden-orange
folding and refolding
upon her luscious flesh
they pause in gentle decent
entranced by the velvet mons
shorn smooth and oiled
sensuously shadowed
in the satin cleft
where supple limb
meets supple limb
intoxicated by this vision
I can only stare
swelling rigid with excitement
and swoon
breathless
utterly arrested
eager for interrogation
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2018
~
fallen into night’s embrace
held down by dark shadows
I writhe in the arms of nightmare
would that I could rise
into the light of dawn’s nod
but I’m flesh, weak, consumed by flesh
purity laid raw entangled in my sin
skin to skin with my obsession
restrained to roil in my transgression
but soon the light of morne
will fold itself upon me pardoned
oh pray I not be too far drawn asunder
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2012
•
radiant vision silken skinned
translucent alabaster blaze
torrid as a teen’s temptation
leaned low here before me yearning
on plush cloud so sensuous
sweet comely goddess forward bent
graceful face aglow with craving
you conjure ardor’s obsession
a’bloom in beckoned fiery swoon
forearms rest on pillow soft
thoughts aflame in primal need
lips burning smile a fetched seduction
RÄgarÄja’s daughter lush with Spring
smoldering in golden light
that folds upon you satin supple
to bathe in warmth your arched desire
divinely-pleasing luscious morsel
served up by a master’s hand
passion bound to tantalize
to hypnotize my hungry eyes
lost in carnal fantasy
fired by this goddess buff
arises now my animal
in a beastly urgent lust
to wrap ‘round
this maiden magic
flesh to flesh
to full consume
to thrust
and thrust
my randy lust
’til passion’s seed
has turned to dust
and wanton
carnal flames
are snuffed
Spring’s sweet madness
at last
enough
• • •
rob kistner © 2012
•
golden lady in sensuous silk
a beauty sure to mesmerize
sculpted by a master’s hand
so seductive as to scandalize
a stare of comely crystal blue
floats above a ruby pout
spellbound by her magic eyes
she holds your soul with no way out
her tongue tip teases her top lip’s edge
like a supple paintbrush flowing
her smile will fire and hypnotize
then wrap around you knowing
you are now her helpless captive
quite hopelessly addicted
in the velvet grip of this smoldering waif
is she an angel — or is she wicked
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
____________
image by Bert Stern
•
let us dare
sweet lust’s advance
to intertwine
in love’s enhance
I burn to offer
love’s special kiss
to fire your soul
in passion’s bliss
to enfold you deep
in nocturne’s hour
to taste the nectar
of your tender flower
you are the dream
that I adore
my one desire
to love you more
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
he
a master of time and space
she
so young and trusting
he
a wizard of colors and words
dazzled her with danger and dreams
she
a nubile daughter of nature
anointed him with exotic pleasures
he
replaced the sun in her sky
with a fire he conjured and kept
she
warmed herself in its heat
came to his bed at its setting
they
the left foot and the right foot poised
to step forth in creativity’s dance
to whirl and glide persistent and true
in the measure and balance of love
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
the velvet nape
of your slender neck
swept with wisps
of silken hair
the tender swell
of your pouted lips
blossomed full
in comely glisten
your quiet sighs
of smouldered passion
hushed and low
in twilight deep
sterling moonlight
that fondles you
in slumber nude
‘neath midnight’s window
autumn sunrise
crisp and fresh
blushed coral
on your waking smile
sunlight’s gold
that falls dreamlike
filtered soft
in old growth forest
unspoiled nature
to far horizons
from where I gaze
on mountain’s crest
christmas eve
a quiet snow
fresh fragrant cedar
my child’s joy
splendid jazz
inspired verse
an evening breeze
a soul-felt tear
pristine beaches
pacific sunsets
silvered waterfalls
laughter with you
what fires my heart
what stirs my soul
what turns me on
these are a few
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
Young Flower
•
velvet soft
passion’d purple
newly bloomed flower
full and succulent
tender plumped folds
glisten with dewy nectar
heady fragrance
pleasures the senses
luscious form
ripened blush
delights the eye
a gentle touch parts silken petals
reveals the inner bud
swollen with the urgency of life
intoxicating
such vital beauty
consumed
one savors slowly
exquisitely delicious
this young flower
full bloomed
• • •
rob kistner © 3/14/11
…written for Magpie Tales
Masquerade
•
when donned the mask
the transformation
smoulders forth
the other
the fantasy
of your desire
carnal fire
on wings of dreams
she is she
and too
the other
unleashed at light
of passion’s moon
a masquerade
to ignite your soul
manifest at your request
sustained this night
at her delight
she is isis
she is venus
she is your every longing
loosed
to bring you every pleasure
she is everything
and all of this
bestowed
with aphrodite’s kiss
as you burn
remember this
beneath the mask
your real bliss
• • •