Sex In The Summer

Sex in the summer, gettin it on
Gimme that number, we can party all night long
Chorus:
Sex in the summer, gettin it on
Gimme that number, we can party all night long
Checkin 4 bikinis, layin in the sand
Rub it like a genie, livin while we can
Afternoon in the city, somewhere in july
Policemen actin... yeah, u know, de-elevate a brothas high
The mamas in the short dress, blowin in the breeze
The papas just a-prayin 4 the gust that will bust that butt out, please, oh!
(chorus)
Here we go - oh
All 7 - hey
Baby, baby - get naughty
Mmm, uh
Everybodys got a black book in case of emergency
In case the sun is shinin at the beach and the honeys are out 2 play
The cool boys just a-watchin all the pretty moves u make
Frontin in the sun, jammin 4 the one lover that u wanna take home

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Inside Your Circle I’m Always An Alien

the best way to escape is to use the fingertips.
From it some words are shot like bullets hitting anything
But there is no death here.
No war. There is only the sojourn, some moments
of variations like
gyrations of the human body that looks for
some blankets of affection.
The human body is nil now.
The touch is elusive as an ell.
The river is crowded with moss and mud
and the fishes can hardly breathe.
Life, this is life actually
The one that moves lonely amidst the crowd
in the mall one Sunday evening.
people are families. They are so selfish among
and within their circles.
You have none of it. You are an alien.
A mutant.

You need another mirror to see how beautiful are you.

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oil War! - Alison Redfern vs Chrissie Clarkson

Chrissie Clarkson complained for the shares of the pie
Enbridge had patented what Miss Redfern had sealed
On a pledge of allegiance for a pipeline next year
Carrying the cream of the crud of reprehensible slime

There was a bipartisan difference and state of disproval
Poor Alison was chagrined with her fellow premier
Who refused to concede for more provincial revenue
When jurisdiction of the proceeds transversed through Vancouver

They met on a schooner for a provincial congregation
But neither was willing to come close and deliver
Preferring deference till three months to October
Debating rhetorical trademarks, instead ecological spilling

"It's our, it's ours" Pouted greedy nose Alison
She put her hands on her hips and said on a dare
"I'm an Albertan and we don't have to share
Oils our commodity, so you can suck it Mrs Clarkson"

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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The Girl's Gone Wild

Callin' on girlfriends
Springbreak weekend
Meetin' at the Texaco-
Wine coolers six pack
Cigarettes and tic tacs
Fill it up and hit the road-
Passin' 'round the cosmo
Wearin' out the cell phone
Make it to the beach by ten-
Flip-flops and lip gloss
Bikini-tops and cut-offs
Baby let the game begin...
(Chorus)
Girls gone wild, reality TV style
Just a miles and miles of those girls gone wild-
Breakin' hearts, usin' daddy's credit card
Momma hollers, "Stop that child!"
Don't you know the girls gone wild
They're lookin' real pretty down in Panama City
They're dancin' down in New Orleans-

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song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fire And Rain (Love Poem)

Fifty years a-growing with my pigtailed friend
I was frogs and snails and she was sugar and spice
Attraction of tortoise petting a perfect way to diet
Red-faced, tongue-tied, secret Confirmation admirer

Nucleus beauty besotted beard route to romance
Coffee and gooseberries companionship cooking
Chicken and almonds the way to this man's heart
Townley Hall first loving to closeness ever after

Tented separation in Mweenish was chilly silliness
Yellow bikini starvation Brighton beach memories
Sneaking bedroom cuddles in Westone wedding
Graduated to Beaufield dinners and Blue Nun

Parents fret about their two kids with two kids
Life challenges met in the riches of poverty
Grateful when God's surprising Gift was given
Altogether life more balanced and beautiful

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poem by Ian Beckett
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Kariba Lake

Really happy, at the brink
of the big Kariba lake
like the great Livingstone,
we were pioneers
viewing that stretch of water
swallowing the river.

Growing up on farmsteads
we hand never seen
fresh water meeting the horizon
and falling into depths
like at the edge of the houseboat.

Your blonde hair falling in waves
catching the sun in its sparkle,
blue eyes clearer that the deep blue sky,
face glowing with anticipation,
body tanned to mahogany brown,
firm breasts swelling
with every breath you took,

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poem by Gert Strydom
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for Arnel

This is what he wrote to me:
WEST COAST Blumpkin 'round the corner bright boy! !
and what's up with this naked lady showing off her boobs as you avatar? ?
wow! ur pretty bomb dude,
kinda wishin you are
brokeback mountain too? ? ?
lol
p.s that's my boyfriend CHAZ DIE...SEL - he's a mechanic! !

and then he wrote me again about his
sex life
his gay nights in Israel and how this country has
advanced well in the science
of pleasure,

and then i reminded him about
how he was under me in Logic
one summer
and he said perhaps he dropped the subject

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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~ LINGERIE-IG* ~ [Redacted]

~ LINGERIE- IG* ~
Ms. NIVEDITA
UK
28.10.09.

LINGERIE- IG

Stealth watcher
Of XX and XY’s
Vices, virtues.

Inclosure of our
Clandestine inclinations
From surfacing.

Incognito browser
Of our enticement
Constrains, restrains.

Definer of body

[...] Read more

poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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The Generals

Said General Clay to General Gore,
'Oh must we fight this silly war?
To kill and die is such a bore.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'We could go to the beach today
And have some ice cream on the way.'
'A grand idea,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'But what if the sea is closed today?
And what if the sand's been blown away?'
'A dreadful thought,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'I've always feared the ocean's spray,
And we may drown!' 'It's true, we may.
It chills my blood,' said General Clay.
Said General Clay to General Gore,
'My bathing suit is slightly tore.
We'd better go on with our war.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.

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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Horse Pills

So your ex got a mansion where you kick it on the hill,
your boy comes to see you, he's your Hollywood thrill.
He's a Spanish fly, that bucks like a stallion.
In the suits that you got him, he looks more Italian.
You worry bout your tan when the weather's gettin' clammy,
summer in the city and winters in Miami.
You get so high on the high life pills,
cruisin' and boozin' and rockin' on the horse size pills.
You could even take more thrills- you could even take more spills,
pills, thrills, chills and ills man, kills.
And rockin' on the horse size.
Butt's gettin' bigger, do you think he'll notice maybe?
That's ok, don't worry bout it baby!
Cause everybody knows he pumps you for your money, that's alright,
don't worry bout it honey!
In your itsy bitsy teenie weenie riding up your butt bikini.
Keepin' on the heels cause you're saggin'
just a teenie bit more than the girls he pretends he doesn't thrill.
Rubbin' on the lotion, and rockin' on the horse size pills.
You could even take more thrills,

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song performed by Dandy Warhols
Added by Lucian Velea
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Summertime

(Dean Sams/Rivers Rutherford/Tom Shapiro)
I like your look in that sweater
All warm and bundled up tight
But I keep picturing something a little different tonight
I see you in a bikini
One lazy toe in the pool
Layed back and sippin' on something long, tall and cool.
Yeah, I can't wait for a warm breeze blowin'
Green grass growin' and the bright sunshine
Short sundress with your long legs showin'
I can't wait for the summertime
Oh, the summertime.
I'm gonna find us some tickets
To a tropical isle
You just see if your mama can keep the kids for awhile
We'll take our drinks with umbrellas
We'll take a room with a view
I'm gonna take my sweet time makin' love to you
That's what I'm gonna do.
I can't wait for a warm breeze blowin'

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song performed by Lonestar
Added by Lucian Velea
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Summer's Here At Last!

I wake up early and the sun is shining in the sky.
It sends my still sleepy spirit soaring to a real high.
Having recently had so many a grey and rainy day,
It's nice to see some sunshine finally come our way!

The roads are chock-a-block as folk get away
To local beaches, where they'll spend the day.
Loving couples are strolling slowly hand in hand.
There's a massive queue for the ice cream man.

Some folk are dressed in shorts and strappy tops,
While on their feet, they wear sandals or flip-flops.
Some ladies laze in a bikini reading a good book,
With a pair of sunglasses to complete the look.

Some people in the park relax in a deck chair.
There's a definite smell of suntan lotion in the air.
Birdsong is heard from the branches of the trees,
As is the constant buzzing of the bumble bees.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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A Radio With Guts

it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
it would break the glass in the window
and the radio would sit there on the roof
still playing
and I'd tell my woman,
"Ah, what a marvelous radio!"
the next morning I'd take the window
off the hinges
and carry it down the street
to the glass man
who would put in another pane.
I kept throwing that radio through the window
each time I got drunk
and it would sit there on the roof
still playing-
a magic radio
a radio with guts,

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poem by Charles Bukowski
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Juno Gave the Summer

A sun for hearts – tempered rhythm in her flares;
The naked tan – bikini line a cry for stares;
Gregarious green, beguiled by colours en rapport –
The park’s alive! So what’s to hanker after more?

Children scream while parents dream their fantasies,
Igniting under brilliance –
They think they share resilience to the
Ultraviolet hues;
To lie displayed au naturel
Is what they’d rather choose!

And Helios peers at lovers in their
Heady worlds: vibrant leas to
Roam in hand; calming seas –
Satin sand insensible as
Water runs her ripples cross the
Shore – so like the park, it really
Cries for very little more!

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Satellite

Babies on beach blankets headed for mars
Cute guys in crew cuts with the day goes to bars
Theres a pretty lady in a bikini
Her eyes are clear
But her teeth look like smashed out window panes
Shes trying to fix her dreams
With seaweed and sushi and carrot juice and wheat germ
Theres a wide wall
That she cant see over now
But thats ok
Because mistakes are allowed when youre a
Satellite
A jog in the morning with some vitamins
Then go to a singles bar
California is sure lovely
Its the home of the stars
And everybodys got a great body, but mine
Thats just fine
Cuz everybodys so shriveled up inside
Theyre trying to hide behind

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song performed by Jewel
Added by Lucian Velea
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Far Rockaway

"the cure of souls." Henry James

The radiant soda of the seashore fashions
Fun, foam and freedom. The sea laves
The Shaven sand. And the light sways forward
On self-destroying waves.

The rigor of the weekday is cast aside with shoes,
With business suits and traffic's motion;
The lolling man lies with the passionate sun,
Or is drunken in the ocean.

A socialist health take should of the adult,
He is stripped of his class in the bathing-suit,
He returns to the children digging at summer,
A melon-like fruit.

O glittering and rocking and bursting and blue
-Eternities of sea and sky shadow no pleasure:

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poem by Delmore Schwartz
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Thoia Thoing

[Intro:]
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing thoing (uh)
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing (It's Kellz)
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing thoing (From Chi-Town)
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing (Japan via satelite, come on ya'll)
I had her singing
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing thoing (America)
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing (Getcha hands up)
She had me singing
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing thoing (Woooo)
Thoia thoia thoia thoia thoing (Woooo)
[Verse 1:]
To who made need to kno
thats her on da flo
sliding down the pole
horny but fo chor
Drinks were in the cup
she showd me some loveso we left the club
Now were up in the Hummer V
shes so hot shes kissing on me

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song performed by R. Kelly
Added by Lucian Velea
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Southbound Train

Well she was born in a north woods town
Twenty-one winters ago
And she grew tired of the freezing cold
And living in the blinding snow
But this girl knew she wouldn't be there long
'Cause she had plans and dreams
And she'd seen pictures of the sunshine state
In the pages of the magazine
So she waited them tables and she used her smile
Saving every penny she can
For a one-way Dixie bound Amtrak ticket
Headed for the promised land
Her momma and daddy begged her not to go
When the day she dreamed of came
And she waved goodbye sittin' way up high
From the window of a southbound train
Now she's got a fire burnin' deep inside
Ridin' on a southbound train
And the clickity-clack of that railroad track
Only helps to fan the flames

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song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Five Senses Renewed

Shhh, listen my love to the wind
Hearken to her melody, the symphony of the night wind
A refrain that tells our story
One of our love a beautiful history
Shhh, listen not with your ears
For it's a sound so divine only the heart hears

Look, beyond what the eyes can see
There, next to the southern star, do you see?
A story is written of two lovers
Born of thorns upon desert soil, cacti flowers
Written in the stars, of galaxies and comets
Brighter than the morning star, born of stardust and planets

Close your eyes, take a whiff
Go on, just a tiny sniff
Inhale that hint of vanilla, a delightful fragrance
A trace of potpourri, an air of jasmine, my what a heavenly fragrance
No cologne can compare
All the flowers of Eden combined in one, a scent so rare

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poem by Esperanza Chilupula
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Supermodel Cannibals

Killer in a Kimono, from a New York Fashion friar Indigenous to sued, leather and floral ensemble armor
Looks good in Italian, when cultivating false impressions
style tailor for the courts, in a boho from the Antilles
but underneath’s a pretty savage, decorated with mascara

When you land in the jungles, of the catwalks of Paris
You better get an expert, survival guide at your service
It’s a treacherous environ, full of vicious sophist jaguars
Machetes are insurance for the fauna of fashion liars
And protection for the tribe of petite la femme noirs
She’s Size 1 pancake doll, cooped up licking, supermodel cannibal

Makes a coup in channel when she’s hunting under thirty
Leeching lipstick painted raw, with the odor of strawberries
Runs a cover-up in makeup, behind a tan line from Cannes Can Headhunting is her specialty, hitting one night players with daiquiris Back to her rented maisonette she scopes them raw on a rotisserie

My Fear is the attraction that is the wreak of her pelvis
Limbs caged to mutiny against the weight of gravity
But with innate resilience, she’s abstinent of duress
When she comes off the runway I have to navigate quietly

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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