Golden Showers- let me pee on you : Erotic Poetry

Drink my golden showers because I

Make perfume, call it angelic splendor

To heal the souls with dead splinters

Mixing scents in concoctions

Flying smells that cum like rockets

Yang, ylang they think their okay

Forgetting outside its judgment day

Joy, joy is the positive light

Sending them a positron byte

Mixing fennel, dill and secret recipes

Making them brain absinthes, to cure them-

Mixing, stirring, boiling, toiling

Rosemary, neroli orange sweet mourning

Juniper from Saturn’s rings, appointed

Queen of perfume, I mix sweet fumes

Every bodies obsessed with sex Inula

Cause they aren’t really doing it

Mix some peppermint, roman chamomile

Then I toss them some lemon grass cylinders

To make them high, don’t you see?

Break outs, rashes, all down spines

Reminding them to thank lucky stars

The bladder meridian starts on forehead

When You read this

you will pee your pants

Curing all with beast marked heads

All their organs puking vile

Eating filth, in denials

Send them poems to heal them

They ignore my words, steal them

having fake orgasms- they repeat the

Dirty words-

Make perfume,

call it angelic splendor

To heal the dead souls splintered

Mixing scents in concoctions

Now run before you piss your pants

Make them breads that cum with

Mind rockets

Call me your Angelic Splendor

Curing your sins, sicko splinters

Sure I can write you orgasmic cumquats

I would rather send you some positron

Golden yearning, pee, pee wee woes

Burning- churning, mixing rolling

Joints, herbs, the healer

Delivery from the day of judgments

Cause my job is to heal your

Beast marked ways-

Make perfume call it angelic splendor

Take a ride on my poems

They heal you-

If you don’t get the cure

Your furry little beavers

Will be covered with soars

A ding a dong of withered dicks

Come on kiss my ass you pricks

Make perfume call it angelic splendor

If you don’t get my smell, drift

Reading this poem will make you sick.

Now, drink my golden showers

And become my slave

Here I come to save the day.

The blue rose

First draft? Yeah right

Now pant, bark, roll over but don’t play dead!