professor

Mar 23, 2009 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

Intimate connection (adult content)

I want to touch your soft-downed hair

and stroke each lustrous silken thread

smooth as roving fingers spread

and part its tresses, skin laid bare.

Then feel the tiny shiver burn

your back and shoulders as they find

your neck pulled tense, eyes shutter-blind,

lips moistened for the fire they yearn.

Pulling closer with reckless greed,

that brings us crushing face to face;

a bruising, frantic dreamed embrace

made real by kissing’s pressing need.

Arms and fingers intertwine seeking naked intimacy, though awkward in the infancy

of pleasing their new-found lover.

Your breasts that had been unaware

of contact through their hidden mesh,

now sense the faintest breath of flesh

that floats across constraints they wear.

Then strain with their abrupt release

to eager hands and pulling lips,

engorged by pinching finger tips

and wanton heat that’s slipped its leash.

Drawn down, lips burn as finger-pressed

skin trembles, sensing flimsiness,

inflamed and willing more undress,

silk rasping where it once caressed.

down where a cutting whisp confines until the slightest hooking tip

unveils the bud my tongue must sip;

and swell each contour it defines.

Lust cascades downwards with the flood,

swollen by our exploring fire,

caught in a vice of fierce desire,

a silken wetness gorged with blood.

Our joining like a raging storm,

locked where its epicentre lies

penetrated, as spasm dies,

clasped deep inside our sated form.

Eyes drift apart, connect once more,

beyond post-coital, clammy skin,

suffused with all we’ve poured within,

two bodies floating to their shore.

Breath slows as touch becomes too keen,

and safer caring gestures mark

the ebbing tide of passions spark,

as words remind where flesh has been.

Then distance parts us once again

except your breathing in my ear

we know we were together here

but throb and ache with loving’s pain.

Desire evoked by speech alone

mere trickery of thought and word;

real touch would make this seem absurd...

but love must sometimes use the phone.

— professor, Mar 23, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: China/Sichuan/Chengdu, CHN

Favorite Poets: Yeats, Elliot, Auden, Keats, Shelley, Byron

Critiques

Electric Blue

17 years 2 months ago

Intimate connections

Keith This journey is awesome the gentle lull the awakening in slow motion to full passion This is beartiful I could see and feel all of this my friend. But for me this is just a memory which I want to know again. This is so sensual tender where two become one to be swept away in the oceans of desire WoW my friend. I could go on and on. Electric Blue

Electric Blue

17 years 2 months ago

Intimate connections

professor

17 years 2 months ago

Thanks Maggie

Glad it struck a chord lol. I am sure it will not remain just a memory. Keith

Cloudthings

17 years 1 month ago

I think you best publish this as a "How to..." document

I think you best publish this as a "How to..." document my friend, & here I fear I must cease to opine, lest I speak things I should decline. Good advertising if nothing else methinks, though I've no doubt that was not the intention! (hope my Australian humour translates ok & does not come to you as offensive!) You are an extremely clever man... perhaps on many levels I suspect! Enough now I am blushing I think... as would any woman reading this. Anni ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "...We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? ... Your playing small doesn't serve the world..."

professor

17 years 1 month ago

Blush away Anni lol

and how could i possibly take offense at your Aussie humor or its intention lol. Be careful otherwise i might be tempted to post more in the same vein and then where will we all be? You seem to be wary of my supposed cleverness Anni but ty for such a compliment lol. Keith

Cloudthings

17 years 1 month ago

Grinning stupidly is where I suspect we all might be!

Grinning stupidly is where I suspect we all might be. Not a bad place in the big picture, I can think of far worse. No not wary of your wonderful cleverness, just my own response to it, fear not, I am no stalker & our distance keeps the dance a safe one, if not our integrity. Really it is all about complimenting your skill as a poet though, I truly love it, what a joy, can't believe I somehow missed so much all this time. I think you lurk quietly, unlike some, not that I don't adore the shining fireworks of others on this site at all. Still, I shall then (be careful), I think perhaps I should be given your smouldering state & that of many of us here, passionate volcanoes that we are, wonderful really... I was thinking after your comment on my Diamond write, how it is so different to write to a writer than it is to write to someone less "writey" (a term one of my wonderful young students coined & I love... "I've been quite writey lately" she said, loved it!), wondering how these things touch the heart or soul (or whether they do?) of someone less able to express or possibly understand this different use of language. I wonder have I been spoilt now once having a poet as a lover, there is possibly something missing without this deeper connection... ah but then there are other things one can share, as intimate as writing poetry, or even making love, deeper knowing I suppose that perhaps few poets might possess?... I begin to have visions of an intellectual Frankenstien I might conjure if I could, the elements I might include & fashion. Still, so often love hands you packages of wonderous humanity you never thought you might embrace, full of surprises & delights that you may not have included in any wish list of love, best leave nature alone & allow serendipity to dust us all with it's warm blessings, no Frankenstien concoction, life is best embraced as it comes I think. I think... I am always told I think too much. Yours in admiration of cleverness in whatever form Anni ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "...We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? ... Your playing small doesn't serve the world..."

professor

17 years 1 month ago

Was just teasing on the cleverness.....

Being an obsessive thinker is something most poets and intellectuals accuse themelves of being, but understanding that Shakespeare was right when he made Hamlet say "There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so" and "words without thoughts never to Heaven go". We also know however that there can be a tendency for pleasurable mind masturbation that may have less direct utility although it can make for some amusing poetry lol. As you may have gathered i am by profession a scientist although with a strong arts background that i have never abandoned. This means i have some interesting insights into the pros and cons of what are rather different worlds and populated by and large by very different types of people. As for me i have never had any kind of romantic relationship with a scientist and probably never will..they can have great minds but also sometimes ones with rather narrow boundaries. Give me an artist anyday and yes poets tend to be the best. But these are of coure sweeping generalities and it is possible to find passionate and enduring love with anyone no matter what their background. All i will say though is that you can get to know a poet far quicker and intimately in a short period through their work and their responses to yours and that can have distinct advantages. So as a fellow seeker of beautiful minds, sharp wit, wordcraft and limitless love and passion i salute you Anni and wish you luck in your search. Best wishes Keith

Cloudthings

17 years 1 month ago

beautiful minds, sharp wit, wordcraft and limitless love and pas

You know Professor, people will begin to talk & enviously too I suspect (but quite possibly not, my views are skewed of late), but I am looking forward to posting my next write, I just couldn't help squeezing into a bit of time before I had to go to work (hardly work, was facilitating my community choir), you will see how it has been inspired by your wayward (wayword) verbosity, I can't help but giggle just a little in anticipation, never been so eager for the 24 hours to pass so I can post here again!... But it is so funnny that you mention.... well, pretty much everything in your first paragraph actually, bizarre synchronicity all round in fact... I only just changed my quote to this excerpt from Mandelas speach, it was previously a wonderful Rumi quote about Laying down in the field where there is no wrong doing or rightdoing, you could probably see it in many of my past comments (I think they remain the same for past posts unlike the photo/image), so I am with you on that one, in fact I often point out that very same thing, that there is no right or wrong, only what works in effect. As for mind pleasuring, well, you will see when you read my next, assuming you do. No I would not have assumed you were a scientist, more odd synchronicity, since I have a recent connection with a scientist here in this coutry albeit 3 hrs drive from me, who also says almost the exact same thing, all his friends are artists & creative folk, though he is not a poet, & as you may have noticed I am a little wary of poetic seduction having received 3rd degree burns of the romantic nature recently, and yes I agree that one feels they can know a writer more deeply more quickly, but I think that was my mistake, I really fell into that, when actually I was mistaken, mislead, or completely foolish, perhaps a little of all, a sad thing to lose that kind of connection when it seemed so ideal. My scientist may not meet me in that wonderful place of cerebral playfulness I so love, but he is a good man, feels safe, is transparent in the best way & is kind hearted as well, he also loves my art & I love his "beautiful mind" (as you say). New beginnings, how funny you should mention all of that though. However I am not in the habit of falling for my stupidmarket lasses, though I do love some of them since some are or have been my students & some have grown up with me in this little town. Happy brilliant synapses to you Professor, you are a joy I think. Cheers Anni ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "...We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? ... Your playing small doesn't serve the world..."