all of a sudden passion suddenly

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the belly is under estimated
and too often skipped across
without too much attention
but I would linger

for this empty plain possesses the crucible
the vessel in which to pour the libation
and I would watch it spill
its rivulets pouring like blood
defining the curve of your flanks

there, in the centre of this featureless plain
the red liquid brims
and I would hover above it as in prayer
for this is the centre of you
for the moment the centre of my entire universe

and I would watch it gently rise and fall
I know the prize of possibilities
but for the moment I would contemplate
the pain of my anticipation
 
I wonder what you think I think
when you turn and walk away
that I'm sad to see you leave
or what pleasant company you've been

did I find you elegant and chic
or how endearing I found your coyness
and do I think of what you think of me
as you smile and simply leave

wondering if you found me handsome
or whether you found me incomplete
like something the dog brought in
a wife threw out

a scruff that smells like a tramp
with manners picked off the street
well all I think about is my cock
between your jiggling buttocks!
 
Stille Nacht,

the moon, the snow,
and Silent Night
filled the trenches

before calloused hands
lifted barbed wire
to meet calloused hands,

rolled cigarettes,
or bibelot whittled
from Maginot's forest,

but for the wood carved
teething rings
for the begat or to begotten,

at least until the corpsmen came
to empty
corporal pockets.
 
Rabbit stew in Kabul

It is no good to settle
on another obsession
or illuminated path
No good to
hop like a cottontail
zigzagging wildly between
parked cars and trash
One must fight illusions
of righteous battle
and escape
alike
 
What she does not know

I keep a photo of you.
One your wife took.

Privacy settings aside
possession has never been inviolable
not on the internet
or in life

I enlarge it sometimes
and smile back at you.
 
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Joyous Young Pine
—Morris Graves, 1943

my heavy, thrusting
branch

&, o, how your talons clutch
at my barked girth




so much happiness in being tree
 
too quick

too quick
The days come and go ( more quick than I want, I think)
Can't stop them, don't want to
But still,
WOW. so quick and
so much yet to want and do

Too quick I say, way too quick to enjoy
and plan the next step

Too quick this time thing
too quick
 
Wives

independence
is a lot harder
minus the maid
like sex
before the pill
like aerobics
before the sports bra
uncomfortable
dependent
on these things

It's clear why men
invented wives.
Hell, I need one myself.
 
wives and maids

big hipped and pendulous breasts
horse faced and raving
wives are strictly contractual
the marrying of money and land
and strictly for the upper class
one good rogering with luck
will bun the mare with child
one male heir that’s all it takes
then off to harass the chamber maid

but alas I am not of that class
I have no brazen mare to mount (thank god)
nor maid to trap within a cupboard ( a pity)
where I’d free her firm hand sized breasts
then bend her over in wide eyed wonder
to witness the moons of Venus
if only Venus had moons

I can only dream of a young nubile lass
on her knees to scrub the floor
only imagine parting her curtains
and guiding my stallion into her stable
I’m an unerring 21st century male
politically correct for all the world to see
I treat my women appropriately
but I have a space in my closet
for a lady with a French maid fetish!
 
Where on earth is Carmen Miranda?

(Quick! Before I lose internet access again!)

There is a jeep outside the hotel
American made, I think.
painted in dark green and brown
to fit into jungles
thickly tangled with history
that no one ever seems to learn
any lessons from.

Words like "inscrutable"
phrases like "saving face"
are thrown around.
Rather unquestioningly, I find.

I am told "it's not the same here"
I don't tell them I have been told that
that exact same thing
everywhere.
 
I'm in a limousine
windows shut tight
then on a chariot
driving moonlight
there in the briny
falling to the deep
here in your bed
dreaming your sleep

Everywhere anywhere nowhere at all
seasonal sensational delusional small
bigger than life often difficult to see
can you guess jest impress shall you
never fear for me

Five little stars made a path sure and bright
I paddled there swirling in a golden canoe
waiting for what music might occupy the night
anything and everything but ever never you
 
Southern girls wear cowboy boots
and gingham. They know how
to ride horses and tractors.

They have braids they talk country
y'all I declare why bless your heart.
They're fixin to bake you a pah
and they'll serve it with sweet tay.

They can flirt and wink, sip the cream
right off the top of the jug and giggle.
They're suger spice girlish pride
dressed up in ruffles fluttery fingers.

They've always depended on the kindness
even when they smell bad and look good
cowgirl hat, longneck and rebel yell.

I like the old ones best.
Prim and pressed flossy hair curled
to iron perfection, pastel and lavender
scented they glide down the aisles
like antebellum queens, curt nods
for the bag boys in bow ties.

They carry embroidered handkerchiefs,
folded to a square, pat their foreheads
and thank you kindly.
 
Stiletto heels
Candle wax
bite
Spank

Hard pressed to
Play
As passion

Infuses
infiltrates
Partakes

Lips press, pleasing
Pleading, playing

With my emotions.

Imstigating
A dormant side
To partake

Play patty-cake
Welts, rise
Red lips smile
My pet

This fairy, is here
To play ...



;)
 
Standing alone amongst proles still as Easter islanders,
moving now with phone booths left untouched as
he changed outside of boxes and closets.

"Look at my dick,
it swings magnificent and free
even after I turn into a H(que)ero!"

Supergay flies freely through the night,
swooping stealthily and phallicly
towards his fauxs.
 
Stiletto heels
Candle wax
bite
Spank

Hard pressed to
Play
As passion

Infuses
infiltrates
Partakes

Lips press, pleasing
Pleading, playing

With my emotions.

Imstigating
A dormant side
To partake

Play patty-cake
Welts, rise
Red lips smile
My pet

This fairy, is here
To play ...



;)

Stiletto heels
pressed against my heart.
Tasting old lipstick and soured wine.
Leave me nothing but silence
and a rumpled bed.
Oh shit,
another shirt stolen.
Find my special friends
from the clothes
hanging in their closet.
Or in a rag bin
waiting to wipe off grease
from fast cars
rode hard.
I really don't mind them leaving
me to face the night alone.
Well, not that much.
But I hate
when they don't lock the door.
on the way out.
 
Conversations

My imaginary shrink comments:
You choose men you cannot have
How to explain
I don’t choose
 
Found Words

windows shut tight

It is no good to settle

Stiletto heels
Foucault Pendulum

Circulatory

another obsession infiltrates my heart
righteous illusions, like golden chariots,
battle between the stars

spinning minds illuminate the music
one beautiful fairy exhales ragged release
two lips turn the end into an exquisite beginning
 
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another obsession infiltrates my heart
righteous illusions, like golden chariots,
battle between the stars

spinning minds illuminate the music
one beautiful fairy exhales ragged release
two lips turn the end into an exquisite beginning

Wonderful found poem. Thank you for letting me help you find it. :)

:rose:
 
Living Dead Boy: Animated

There wa a curse on the world,
a strain straight from Kokomo,
a contagion that killed everyone

All but one. he survived by some hoodoo
weird shit, like a cockaroach.

He found me, kept me stashed under
his bed until I zombified.
Patchworked, zigzag sewed
but still a doll fully animated,
ready to fuck whenever the fuck.
All this in the name of some sick
love-sick thing.

His desire to make me his
in this Outer Limit.

I cannot hide or runaway,
it's how he wants me, a forever
play thing that doesn't rot.

However,

I want to eat his brain,
he's wickedly delicious, good for cannibals
and zombies too. Eat them raw, food
literally for thought.
 
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Living Dead Boy: Animated

There wa a curse on the world,
a strain straight from Kokomo,
a contagion that killed everyone

All but one. he survived by some hoodoo
weird shit, like a cockaroach.

He found me, kept me stashed under
his bed until I zombified.
Patchworked, zigzag sewed
but still a doll fully animated,
ready to fuck whenever the fuck.
All this in the name of some sick
love-sick thing.

His desire to make me his
in this Outer Limit.

I cannot hide or runaway,
it's how he wants me, a forever
play thing that doesn't rot.

However,

I want to eat his brain,
he's wickedly delicious, good for cannibals
and zombies too. Eat them raw, food
literally for thought.
..
Mwaha ha ha, screech!
 
My candy crush
Sweetly fills my dreams with
His sugar- a fruity tang
And nails that nip at my
Back
And front
I only cry out 'ouch!' with joy
A bite, a dig
A hard nip nearly drawing blood
A low chuckle with a hint
Of evil
An all-day sucker that
Fills me full
Cavities existed before I
Tasted you, but now
They grow wider
To accommodate the cure
My best doctor
Administers my meds
Mostly by injection, burning sometimes
Making me docile and teachable
Until I'm flat like
A blown tire
Begging for a little air
The words "I want some candy, daddy"
Are all I need to hear
The tables turn and I
Become the one
With salacious treats
-The ones you crave like mad.
 
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