Tags
bedlam, blood fountain, cunnilingus, ghost hunger, ghost lover, poem, Poetry, sick chaos, sonnet
In this spirit’s world, this less than human
mouth goes down on you. Each chill, ghost fingers
unzip your fly, pull your knickers to one
side, while this ectoplasm tongue slithers
inside. How far out are we? Knuckles deep.
You suck all the air out of your lungs. Vast
forces are at work when twilight can’t sleep.
Delirium and the dead; an outcast
at your gate. This is beyond mingled breath.
Beyond love in the dead years. Do not die
just yet, my lover. Take me as I come
inside you. Then, a small cry, a small death.
Come like sick chaos, like a devil’s cry,
a blood fountain, a ghost hunger, bedlam.
memories of my ghost sista 
Odd…you doing a re-write. Your stuff always seems so meticulously worked out, must have found something that really got to you. With a bit more money, a bit more screaming, and will to self destruction you could be the J. Morrison of Erotica.
Later…
Heehee, thank you! But you know, I’d say 84% of what I write feels amazingly cringe-worthy. Cliches, painful rhymes, places where I’ve obviously lost my train of thought and failed to go back and pick it up again. I suppose that’s why I’ve been recently trying to fix things that felt like they have the burden of potential, if for no other reason than it’s a shame to let all that time spent working on something go to waste. Plus, I need to take better care of the things I’ve written to date. I had a Myspace account for several years, I think, and that’s where I was putting most of my writing for a while. Back in the day (you know, 2009) I used it as a free blog and it was wonderful because there were hundreds of other poets doing the same thing. It is hard finding poetry communities both off-line and on-line but for a little while Myspace actually came through. Then they imploded and decided blogs were too much hassle and a couple of months ago deleted everything. Literally, years of my poetry, all gone. I hadn’t logged on there for a good 14 months, so I have only myself to blame for not paying more attention, but still … it was a bit of a let down to find nothing I had written during all that time survived. Which is why I turned to wordpress, hopefully they’ll give me a little heads up before nukin’ my blog from orbit (on the other hand, it’s a great lesson in the Buddhist theory of non-attachment of material things, donchyathink?)
Bhuddists don’t know everything. And, I doubt if monks or wannabees do much writing, and agonize over WIPs, so…non-attachment would be easy. I’m attached to what I create, if only until it’s a disaster, or somebody buys it. Guess I’ll never be a Bhuddist…only a minimalist.
Later…
Non-attachment in general is pretty un-sexy when it comes world philosophy. Anything that can be easily mistaken for apathy might need to re-think what they’re trying to do. Minimalism, though, is great. When my brother moved to LA he described taking a minimalistic approach to furnishing his apartment … due to poverty. The story of probably all our lives.