Posts Tagged Tom Baker

Poetic License – July 2011

Poetic License is posted on the first Monday of every month. It consists of eight carefully selected for your reading pleasure from the thousands posted across the Internet daily. I only want the best for those who make it through the sea of blog posts to my blog. I hope you truly enjoy this month’s selection. If there is a particular poem that you find moving, please visit the link of the poet and let him or her know.

By the way, Happy Birthday America. You are 235 years young.

Spaghetti
by Hannah

im doing it again
turning my back
this time not coming back.
its different now
its not black and its not white
is it gray yet not quite dead?
twisting, twisting, twisted
strands of memories
dipped in pools of red
like pasta drowned in sauce
like promises left out in the cold.

Fell In Love
by Brown Sweaters

Fell in love with the dust on my table,
The stain on my coffee cup,
The sound of cars driving by.

Fell in love with the glass in my window,
The fit of my slipper,
The color I cannot describe.

Gathered them all,
Made them mine,
Promised to honor and obey.

Went on vacation,
Dined under stars,
And loved them all the more.

Splash
by Tizz

Thought of him
When I saw the sea
Whilst the waves licked my legs
The only thing I could think
Was that there was an ocean
That one ocean
Keeping us apart.

Too little to hold us apart
Too much to let us be together
Suddenly a stubborn thought
Cried on my mind
A thought that wouldn’t leave me alone
What does he really feel?
Would he do what should be done?
Will he ever say that little but essential word?

With a hard splash
A wave washed everything away
For a moment
And the unseen tears
Mixed into the salty water
Were carried away
To the bottom
Where all secrets are kept.

Resilience ~ Hope
by Kim Koning

Hope is a green blade of grass in a hot desert
Resilience is a daisy blooming in the tread of Fate’s footpath
Faith is absorbing every bit of moisture
Life is to keep growing
But Love is the unseen root…


Damaged
by Michelle Guillemaud

It starts with a kiss,
How did it end up like this?

How could it go so far?
All you left was a scar.

A hole so deep,
It burns a hole in my sleep.

It starts with a kiss;
Then you pushed for more,

So I gave you more.

And when I gave you more,
You pushed for more.

More, and more,
Until I woke up naked on the floor,
Ashamed, a whore.

I asked for love,
You asked for more.

More was never enough.

You broke me, you bruised me;
I’m beaten, abuse me.

It starts with a kiss,
All you left was a scar.

Sunday Morning
by Hannah T. Vogel

It is not often one wakes up willingly.
Snooze buttons, five more minutes to be had,
Dreams not ready for an end.
One does not often wake content.
But, this Sunday morning the springtime sun shows fresh through parted blinds,
Beckoning.
Outside it is warm, a hint of a cool breeze,
An azure sky is fretted with clouds and
The many, myriad people with their many, myriad faces and
Intentions and dreams and goals are walking, walking, walking
In many, myriad directions.
They clutch warm coffee, bottles of water, cell phones and each others’ hands, all moving.
I too am moving, past them and toward the promise of a meal.
I sit and enjoy my breakfast, some new found company and a bagel.
Life is ever beautiful,
Evidenced in those many, myriad people and their coffee cups and unique intentions.
Life is beautiful and for this morning at least,
I am content.

The World To Me
by Scotia Nightpoetry

I like to look in others’ eyes
to see what I can see
perhaps I view reflections
of what they see in me

We romanticise our love of eyes
call them portals to the soul
imagining that we can tell
what makes each person whole

When I look into my own eyes
a young man’s staring back
full of optimism and innocence
the things that I now lack

And when I stare just long enough
the image disappears
I see me as I am today
complete with all my years

The Room of Iridescent Colors
by Ozymandyas Lucas

I sit in a white room upon a white stool
The glass shards around me a shimmering pool
Of light and shade and rainbows askew
The shards suddenly burst upward, creating a new
Skyline of window reaching across the wall
And pictures emerge from which I can see all
And dancers of shadow of my past and present
Shoot across this iridescent crescent
The future to my right a color I’ve not seen
With words I’ve not spoken nor know what they mean
Then a flash of bright light and the glass becomes dust
And filters the white to black forcing my eyes to adjust
I find myself standing walking into the black
Knowing my hands will make up where eyes lack
When suddenly I feel a small hand
A child takes my fingers to draw lines in the sand
I open my eyes to the dust on the floor
She’s christening symbols for me to explore
Her pale skin and blonde hair speak
though she’s said not a word or squeak
Then she turns to me her eyes are my own
I’m looking at my daughter that I’ve not yet known
A future in flesh and my head starts to spin
As flashes of color surge forth off of her skin
I hug my daughter and tell her I love her
She looks and her eyes say to say hi to her mother
She smiles one last time her mouth moves divine
“Bye for now daddy, see you when our paths align”
She closes her eyes and poof! She has gone
A million shades of energy flow from her aeon
And suddenly I’m back in a room with no door
With millions of glass shards scattered on the floor

All Rights Reserved © by their respective authors. Tom Baker and his Morning Erection blog make no claims to any poetry other than his own.

If your poem is featured on Poetic License please consider adding the graphic to your site. It definitely is not required but you would make me a happy camper!

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First Trimester 2011: Tri-Annual Poetic License Magazine

First Trimester 2011: Tri-Annual Poetic License Magazine

January, February, March, and April 2011

I want to personally thank each blogger/poet who over the last eight months has allowed me to feature their poetry on my site. So… Dankie, благодаря, Danke, Ευχαριστώ, Mahalo, どうも, 감사합니다, Terima kasih, Gracias, Salamat po, ขอบคุณ, Obrigado, Merci and Thank you.

On Saturday, May 7th I will again have a guest. My guest blogger for May is Rosemary Jean-Louis. Her post combines two things that I like very much – movies and comic book superheroes. I can assure you, you will enjoy reading her post as the summer blockbuster season begins. Her new blog is Digital Media Geek and it will launch on Saturday to correspond with her guest post but she also has another site you can visit now, The Sexy Geek Files.

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Poetic License – February 2011

February has been designated as the month of romance because of St. Valentine’s Day. More than likely this will be the only month with a theme. I think every day of every month should be romantic. This is the last month I will be including one of my own poems. Time constraints and other commitments prevent me from continuing to come up with a new poem each month. Regardless of my situation I hope you enjoy these lovely, sexy poems.

I must caution you that if you click on the links to visit the sites of some of the authors, you will find that their sites are full of erotic poetry and adult imagery.


Fantasies
by Yvonne Burhannan

This mind has turned into another mode
Day dreaming of fictions never told
Unending love making is about to unfold
So prepare for a love making poem…

Only in my dreams am I free
With you laying on side of me
Gentle lips touching each cheek
As your tongue explores my body for something to eat…

Time has no meaning in my sleep
Moment by moment
Each breathe makes my heart beat
Anticipation now rises within these sheets…

Kissing my breast
Licking away all the stress
Whispers of untold love kills realities caress
Massage my thighs to make me feel blessed….

Now sex away everything that causes pain
Bringing my soul out of rain
Feeling each stroke gives release to this restrain
But only fantasies will this remain.

Erections vs. Wetness
by Butterfly Effect

Is there a name for the joy of making erections sprout from my essence?

I love how embarrassed he gets from not being able to conceal his reactions to my sensual seduction
Legs swaying back and forth in anxious anticipation
With thoughts of falling into a dark mind blowing hole of drowning sensations
His eyes close as his bar grows warming his inner thigh

Veins are plumpy pulsating making him spit creamy leaks wetting his boxer briefs
Squirming as he tries to gain control of his magic wand yearning to cast spells
Slowly licks his lips while watching her breasts waltz from every bounce in her switch
Leaning over sticking her bottom to the air

She confesses in his ear her desires to ride him
Instantly his stick leaps. Mmmmm… he thinks, “I can’t wait to see that, ride me please”
My arousal is not easily hidden either…
pay attention

Lips swell engulfing my button as she grows
Juice on the mountain peak bless my panties
Changing positions in my seat only makes more of a mess…
antsy

Steam from my dewy damp place gives off a strong sweet aroma that drives his senses crazy
The girls sit up straight choosing him with their pointy nips
Quietly sighing from the intense, pleasuring pain created from the bra rubbing my Hersey kisses
Envisioning the hardness behind his zipper makes my sweat…
glisten

Panting with laborious flutter…
Can’t stop complaining of the weather inside producing hot flashes much like heat invasions
So, are you still unable to see my arousal?
just wait until I get up from my seat
my skirt is sticking to me


Thoughts Of You
by 1ManView

Moisten droplets, ease past swollen lips,
Wet panties lowered,
Knees rise toward bosom,
Heated fingertips slide in slippery feminine sweat…
Desire consumes loins,
As thoughts of you rekindle the passion we shared last night,
Intertwined as one…

Venus In Lace
by W. I. Boucher

My sweet venus in white lace
bound tight to the warm earth
by the silken cords of desire

burning passion’s chains bind her
wrapped round her racing heart
My goddess and slave of love

she wakes the hungry beast
that by her touch may tame
she bends it’s will to her needs

she softly calls out my name
warm as a summer breeze
she beckons me come closer

an invitation to worship deep
her flawless alabaster temple
in that secret perfumed grotto

heaven nestled safe between
those smooth and graceful
twin pillars of her supple thighs

to drink my fill of ambrosia
made drunk by that spring
flowing so pure for me alone

Passion Fruit
by Shadow Mandoll

His lips against mine, I feel so erotic.
The sweet smell of fruit, something exotic.
His hand reaches down, to my warmth hidden low.
His fingers move gentle, he touches me just so.
I scream out in pleasure as my orgasm comes near,
It’s building inside of me, I’ll explode I do fear.
He stops just short of climax, it hurts; I want to scream.
Now he’s smearing it across my chest, whipped cream.
He licks and flicks his tongue,
I’m on the verge, I want to come.
He gets on top, so fast, and slides himself inside,
I scream and yell “Oh God Yes!” my delight I can’t confine.
He pumps so hard and fast, I cannot stop the rush.
I scream his name and claw his back, my ecstasy can’t be hushed.
He comes so hard, my mind explodes, the end is here at last.
We lay in bed, legs in-twined, until the after glow has passed.


Mating Call
by The Reason You Come

Chest on chest, mouth on mouth, arms wrapped around
Their bodies while the heat flows through their veins
Tongue now upon neck to the beating sound
Of the Siren’s call that love’s priest ordains

As the music to which lovers should dance;
They shake and gyrate with naked desire
Take advantage of this off’ring of chance
Writhing, burning, on the hedonist’s pyre

Hips in fluid motion grind against him
Already giddy, he tastes her with ease
The heat inside him boils close to the brim
She pushes him away; she’s just a tease

Surrounding them, raw carnal smell is strong
Wet lips are felt on flesh the whole night long


I Want Chocolate
by Jessica D’Angelo

I want a man called Chocolate
who takes me to the heights of
ecstasy
with one tiny lick

I want a man called Chocolate
who can excite me even when still
wrapped up
in his coat

I want a man called Chocolate
who can transport me to Heaven as he melts in
my mouth
so slowly

I want a man called Chocolate
who can come in so many
varieties
white, dark and milky

I want a man called Chocolate
who can be bought for so little yet is always
my prince
lying naked in my hands.


Even Alone She Thinks Of Me
by Tom Baker

You reveal yourself night after night
But you have no idea I sit in the dark tonight
And watch your silhouette climb on the bed

My senses are on high alert
My eyes tell my brain start a riot
Causing an uprising in my loins

I gaze at you as your nipples peek  through
Your slender fingers as you caress your breasts
Massaging you swollen nipples

I reach down quietly for my sensitivity
At the same time you reach for your juicy tenderness
Your back arches and I hear a sigh.

My lips form a smirk as I listen intently
To the symphonic rhythms and sounds of fingers and damp lips
A sound I’ve only before heard when it was my fingers

Moonlight draws my gaze again to your still hard nipples
Slowly I lick my lips wanting a nibble for myself
Anus clenched your finger slips inside; I want a taste

What’s that I smell? Is it lusty musk in the air?
You roll on your stomach and spreading eagle
Thrusting yourself into the palms of your hands

I imagine it is my fingers causing you to moan
Your hips move faster your breathing more shallow
I faintly hear you deeply utter my name rolling over and collapsing

The deed is done. Off to dreamland now that you’ve cum
I close my eyes and play the scene again in my head
And I smile now my deed is done, knowing I’m in my wife’s fantasies.

All Rights Reserved © by their respective authors. Tom Baker and his Morning Erection blog make no claims to any poetry other than his own.

If your poem is featured on Poetic License please consider adding the graphic to your site. It definitely is not required but you would make me a happy camper!


Chest on chest, mouth on mouth, arms wrapped around
Their bodies while the heat flows through their veins
Tongue now upon neck to the beating sound
Of the Siren’s call that love’s priest ordainsAs the music to which lovers should dance;
They shake and gyrate with naked desire
Take advantage of this off’ring of chance
Writhing, burning, on the hedonist’s pyreHips in fluid motion grind against him
Already giddy, he tastes her with ease
The heat inside him boils close to the brim
She pushes him away; she’s just a tease Surrounding them, raw carnal smell is strong
Wet lips are felt on flesh the whole night long

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