• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Category Archives: Erotic

welt

12 Wednesday Jul 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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8 inches, anal plug, erotic poem, pelvis grinding, ravish, sonnet, spastic, twelve obscene strokes, welt

I run my hand down the birch cane. Inspect
it. Slap it twice against my palm. Then: “¡Swish-

Crack!” The cane lashes your ass. Hard. Perfect.
You jerk in restraints. You had said, “Ravish

Me.” I run the tip of the birch between
your cheeks, touch the raw welt that has risen.

Whisper in your ear: One. In twelve obscene
strokes I will leave you bawling in ruin;

mewling, the way lost kittens mewl. “And now,”
I say, holding up the plug, “Eight inches

inside you.” I twist. “That’s three.” You gasp. “Six.”
You’re spread out wide. I push until somehow

all your muscles clinch up and what gushes
out leaves you in pelvis-grinding spastics.

throwing shade

06 Thursday Jul 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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cunnilingus, dyke and fag, Hera's bum-boy, I'm plump, poem, Poetry, sonnet, spilled ink

Breathe on your neck and your hairs stand erect.

You are wet like moss dribbling on rock

with kick-boots, leather jacket, dawn’s mohawk.

I love your brawn, the strength that you project.

You are thick in every way that I’m plump.

I drag your knife across my shoulder blade

and all my pale flesh opens. You throw shade

better than my friends. I’m all sad thighs, rump

and queer bulges, yet still I bleed. I gag

you, face-fucking your skull until we choke

and say this is shit. We laugh. It’s all shit

that we drown in spliff. We’re called dyke and fag,

Hera’s bum-boys. I love you. There’s pale smoke

between us — drifting up — into orbit.

gash and harvest

04 Tuesday Jul 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Cum and conjure, erotic art, Fóllame el culo, fuck me in the ass, gash and harvest, hashish, poem, Poetry, sonnet

At first thrust you gasped; cello’s tight sinew
snapping as you opened up, your haunches

splayed, your fingers in the grass, then you drew
your head back, whiplash, and begged with curses,

“¡fóllame el culo!” You made an awed
pucker at either end, a mewl and grunt

into a whine, as the curved bow seesawed
inside you. I named gods (manic, urgent)

who lived for this. What else was there? Later
we curled, sucked from the hookah. Opium

imbued the air. We could’ve been a prayer
to an old life, old death. Cum and conjure.

Gash and harvest. Suture and orgasm.
Instead we’re what the gods left out: horror.

][][
note:
In Spanish, “Fóllame el culo,” translates into, “Fuck my ass.” Of all the instruments that I will never learn how to play the cello is what I set my words to.

spill

12 Monday Jun 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

acid sex, erotic poetry, hold me back, mientras te estoy montando, poem, sonnet, Spanish translation, spill

Slowly summer ebbed away. There was bright
heat, sometimes green. You tutored me each day.

I was slow and you were frenzied. You would bite
my neck, scratch my back; while, “mientras te

estoy montando,” in your dad’s bathroom.
In two months you’d go to college; until

then I bent you double, pierced you to your womb,
ruined your throat until we would both spill

all that was inside. I will always be
this: dull and dim. I couldn’t follow you,

despite the español that you taught me.
I can’t find you since I’m without virtue

and you’re as real as an acid flashback.
Memory of what I want, hold me back.

][][

note:

In Spanish, “mientras te estoy montando,” translates as, “while I’m riding you.”

uncouth

09 Friday Jun 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Afropunk, erotic poetry, off my tits, Riotgrrl, sonnet, Spanish translation, uncouth, Vulva Furiosa

I say, “She who starts with an abattoir’s

knife ends with allure.” That’s cheap. Perhaps. Love

curls in me, though: muscles, sweat, cum, bargain-

floor booze. You trace all my bruises and scars.

I’m off my tits on mandrake root, foxglove

and wormwood. Perhaps love is an omen.

Perhaps love begins as a Stone Butch; ends

in glory — We start all this with someone

who can break us by accident. My friend

who walks on goaty-girl legs and cloven

hooves, who says that she’s an uncouth butcher —

Hacker of meat — Curved fire — Gloriosa

blooms — Riotgrrl — Afropunk — “El olor

de mi coño” — Vulva Furiosa.

}{}{

note:

“El olor de mi coño” translates into “the odor of my cunt”

naturally

09 Friday Jun 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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erotic poetry, failed at the slam, grief's flesh, kink, naturally, sonnet

We want to know that the kink is still

there. Now? No, soon. I drink so that I don’t

think so much. Hashish, Vodka and Advil

deletes memories. Who says that I won’t

tell how I failed at the Slam; this stutter,

that lisp, no one wanted to hear such noise.

There was no beat, just radio anger

in my head. Those raw static wires destroy

rhymes which neither strut nor slide. Praise the holes

in my skull — What was kink but our hoodwink

over failure? — Nothing comes naturally

to me — Not even joy over our soul’s

loss, our grief’s flesh. Now? I don’t want to think

except for Absinthe, Gin and Peyote.

milking

26 Friday May 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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BBW, bhang, cunnilingus, erotic poetry, hashish, kif, lactophilia, milking, poem, sonnet

You with the double-hung belly. You made

a sound like, “sissk,” each time I drained you dry.

We’ve played Asmodeus and the Milkmaid

far too often. For a week we were high

as fuck eating euphoriants — (bhang-bhang

and hash rolled in jam) which gave your breast milk

the odd taste of sweet kif, gin and ginseng —

while I sucked stains from inside your bra’s silk

after each of Harley’s feedings. Each romp

remained perverse; my head buried between

your thighs, fingers on your nipples, milking,

tripping balls, the bed shaking, you calling

out to the gods prayers devout and obscene

as you came; soaking my face like a swamp.

Quote

mangles

05 Tuesday Apr 2016

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, quote unquote, sonnet

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Babylon Crashing, mangles, Prends-moi par derrière, quote unquote, sonnet

Tangled in the backseat, parked near the bridge,

I am in awe with the curve of your ass.

Under your jeans your telltale scar-tissue,

mortar-shell fragments, your brawny muscles

and the curved stump ending above the knee.

I’m a drunken beast on hands and elbows.

You’re all splorpy-wet from savage foreplay.

“Prends-moi par derrière. Jouis dans mon cul.”

Pressing your forehead against the window’s

glass you shudder at the depravity

of gore, being gored, once more light mangles

itself behind our lids — I would tell you

that I love you as our breath fogs the glass

but I don’t know those words in your language.

][][

Note:

In French, “Prends-moi par derrière. Jouis dans mon cul,” roughly translates as, “Take me from behind. Cum in my ass.”

— Babylon Crashing

Quote

pomegranate

29 Tuesday Mar 2016

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, quote unquote, sonnet

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Babylon Crashing, pomegranate, quote unquote, sonnet

Later you will tsk, rub away a speck

of dried cum. Today the floor needs mopping,

the sheets laundry. You sat in the bathtub

for hours scrubbing. Last night you were filthy.

I knew you wanted more; only took what

I could offer, I received your wetness

trailing down my chin. I could only twist

against rope that bound my ankle and wrist

I don’t protest — I just stared, your lewdness

glistened wide, your clit a pomegranate

seed on my tongue — you stood above me

fingers twined throughout my hair as you rubbed

yourself faster and harder murmuring

into my neck flooding all down my neck.

— Babylon Crashing

Quote

whose issue is like the issue of horses

27 Sunday Mar 2016

Posted by babylon crashing in bibical erotica, Erotic, quote unquote

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Ezekiel 23: 20, men who behaved like animals in their sexual desire, Oholibah, translations, violent lovers, virile, vulgar

Oholibah was hungry for men who fucked
like animals; whose cocks hung like donkeys and whose cum flowed like
stallions.
(Ezekiel 23: 20)

Translations are curious things. I tend
to avoid using from anything directly biblical in my blog because so
little of what is in the books interest me; however, for all the

inconsistencies and contradictions found in its pages you do have stories like that of
Oholah and Oholibah (whose name is actually a sexual pun in Hebrew
meaning, “my tent is [open] inside her.”) and their love
of big cocks. How do English bibles deal with the image of
cum-spewing stallions? The following twelve translations give
examples. Sure, you can explain that the whole thing is an obscure
metaphor for the cities of Samaria and Jerusalem but even the
children’s bible isn’t shy about explaining what makes a good fuck.

“Yes, she lusted after their male
prostitutes, whose members are like those of donkeys and who
ejaculate like stallions.”
(The Complete Jewish Bible)

“And she was mad with lust after
lying with them whose flesh is as the flesh of asses: and whose issue
as the issue of horses.”
(Douay-Rheims 1899 American Edition)

“She remembered the lovers who
excited her there, who were like animals in their sexual desires and
abilities.”
(Easy-to-Read Version)

“She wanted men [lusted after
lovers] who behaved like animals in their sexual desire [or whose
genitals/ flesh were the size/ flesh of donkeys and seminal
emission like that of horses].”
(Expanded Bible)

“She was filled with lust for
oversexed men who had all the lustfulness of donkeys or stallions.”
(Good News Translation)

“For she doted upon their
paramours, whose flesh is as the flesh of asses, and whose issue is
like the issue of horses.”
(Authorized [King James] Version)

“She wanted men who behaved like
animals in their sexual desire.”
(International Children’s
Bible)

“That whetted her appetite for
more virile, vulgar, and violent lovers—stallions obsessive in
their lust.”
 (The Message)

“She lusted for the lechers of
Egypt, whose members are like those of donkeys, whose thrusts are
like those of stallions.”
(New American Bible, Revised Edition)

“She lusted after their
genitals—as large as those of donkeys, and their seminal emission
was as strong as that of stallions.”
(New English Translation)

“There she had longed for her
lovers. Their private parts seemed as big as those of donkeys. And
their flow of semen appeared to be as much as that of horses.”

(New International Reader’s Edition)

“For she lusted upon their
pilagshim (illicit lovers), whose basar is as the basar of chamorim,
and whose issue is like the issue of susim.”
(Orthodox Jewish
Bible)

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