Parched

With each warming word,
each lusty sighing breath
you draw my milky fluid forth
tissue swelling swollen sweet
lotus bud bursts to blooming
wetness wild drenching
inner thighs sex slipping
against one another
engorged with red love
squirming delirious discomfort
the best kind of torture…
so take me home with you
tease me hard till I come
heaving heavy hot breaths
watching you privately perform
show me your thick pulsing heat
fill me with it hard and deep
let my rosy gates welcome
you in with warm wet embrace
over and over, over and over
dehydrated by climactic end
thirsty for hydration, I beg
drip drops of quenching water
in my gaping mouth if I behave
then show me exactly what
to do to you once more
to please your soul with mine
to make me parched again

“Parched” ~ AUDIO voice recording on Soundcloud

~ by Emily Clapper

3.26.16

Open Topic ~ Round Two

Hello, WordPress. As some of you know, last month I put out a call for poem topic suggestions for me to write about. It was quite the hit.  I think I’m feeling ready for round two. No promises on expediency, but if you have an idea you want to challenge me with, or not challenge but just something you’d like me to write about…let me know in the comments and I’ll see what I can do.

If you want to see examples of the poems I wrote the last round, click on this link to see the list of ideas and the poems I created from them:

Open Topic Round One

This was great for my brain, and a fun surprise for the people who submitted ideas to see what I would do with them.

Let’s play. 🙂

Worth

you cannot shine your light on me and then tell me I’m too bright
you cannot declare love for my passion then tell me I’m too passionate
you cannot admire my beauty and then tell me I’m vain when I say “thank you”
you cannot root for my success and then say I’m pandering if I am grateful

every one of these things I struggle to do
I don’t feel I deserve the praise or words
I don’t see what others see that makes me me
I fight to accept that I am worthy

think of this the next time I express joy
or thanks, or gratitude, that in my head

I am shaking “no, I don’t believe you”

while I fight to say “thank you”

the way you think you know me
shows me how little you really do

 

~ Emily Clapper

 

200 of You

Wow. I hit 200 creepers followers today, since starting in late February. Like I said many times before, I came here a closet poet to compile my poetry into one location, and was blissfully unaware that there was an avid community of supportive friends waiting for me and my words. And likewise, a rich plethora of your art and creation and words as well. I have been equally stimulated and challenged by what you put before me every day. Thank you. There are some seriously brilliant badasses here. Hats off.

So I don’t take it lightly that you chose to click that little box and waste spend your valuable minutes reading, acknowledging, commenting, engaging with me on my poetry and the occasional entertaining journal entry. There are a million other things you could be doing with your time, and so I express my gratitude for those that check in on my every day or even periodically. I would have probably crawled back into my dark poetic closet cave had I not had the feedback and love you have shown me.

You have inspired and encouraged me to keep on going…sharing whatever pops out of my head during a particular moment, good, bad, sexy, not-so-sexy, intellectual, philosophical, silly. I truly hope you enjoy it.

I look back and think of all the time I wasted not nurturing my writing and poetry and wonder what I could have been producing all these years, had I known you existed.

But, the way things are pouring out of me like they never have before in my life, I think I will more than make up for lost time.

I always knew I was a writer, and a writer-at-heart, but I never predicted I’d have an audience for it.  I can run, but I can’t hide.

I can now admit…with almost as much tingling as saying “I’ve lost my virginity”:

I am a writer.

There. That wasn’t so bad now, was it, Emily?