Tags
My nectar will
make you swoon
my sweet rotten
scent will make
you sweat all
noon, your lunch
pale break,
coming
home bewildered
dog, shame-headed,
fury-foot, child,
hoping for more.
waiting for you at the gate
10 Thursday Jul 2014
Category Archives: Erotic
lick me here, swamp thing
05 Saturday Jul 2014
Tags
Cthulhu, cunnilingus, glowing green, haiku, poem, Poetry, Swamp Thing
waiting for thunder
lightning along your green tongue
kiss me here, swamp thing
][
plagued by spring fever
wind parting long curling grass
licking red marsh earth
][
it won’t ever end
it won’t get any better—
this need to be loved
][
under all these stars
addicted to dark matter
Cthulhu, I cum
cropped marshlands
03 Thursday Jul 2014
Posted in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry, sonnet
≈ Comments Off on cropped marshlands
From here all the tree trunks are blackly white
against cool-copper background. These lines thrust
clear and erect into coming twilight.
How did Freud ever pass through such forests?
They’re all so palpable … phallic. For me,
walking among the oaks intoxicates.
Not all lovers are forest gods, beasties,
freaks; but they should be. Sap runs, animates
flesh, dew and clay. “I stripped off my sarong,
ran all mad-blood through the dappled down grass.
Rude horn of Pan. Gripping you with both hands
until you splattered, rose-lily, along
my chin, my palms, my hair, across my ass,”
whispered the demon of the cropped marshlands.
arias, orgasms and weed
19 Thursday Jun 2014
Gelding, dwarf star, that carmine snip where dye
soaked in. Where fiber and leather were cut
away. Prayers sung. Eunuchs and castrati
pray just like every other sinner, but
their cries carry weight. The heft of lightning
weighs the same as what Farinelli gained,
perhaps lost. The boy soprano singing
on stage at the Beijing Flying Dragon
Opera House. Lustrey crying with need.
We’ve been sweating in our bed. What choice
do we have? The radio is on. Lulled
by high arias, orgasms and weed.
Lulled by an impossible boy. His voice
shook the bed. You gasped and the world trembled.
][
note:
Farinelli was a celebrated Italian castrato diva of the 18th century and possibly one of the greatest singers in all of opera.
spoolies
18 Wednesday Jun 2014
Tags
erotic poetry, finger fucking, haiku, hair salon, poem, Spoolies
][
I’m spellbound, but oh a woman denied
And the hills are alive with celibate wives …
— “These Things Take Time,” The Smiths
][
service with a smile
“how can I stop?” Cupid’s child,
cum and hair Spoolies
][
fuck the Heart Sutra
Italian sex comedies
and Enlightenment
][
first taste of delight
under the dryer, laughter
and finger fucking
][
note:
Sometime in the dim 1950s hair Spoolies were, and I quote, “the hair curlers for professional pin curls.” I suspect my grandmother wore them when she went to the hair salon and let all hell lose.
cinderella nasty
18 Wednesday Jun 2014
a piece of moonlight
tongued like in a fairy tale
Cinderella’s gasp
sex slush sounds
17 Tuesday Jun 2014
Posted in Erotic, haiku, Illustration and art, Poetry
≈ Comments Off on sex slush sounds
Tags
sticky night weather
finding sister’s vibrator
under her pillow
][
summer wild clover
slippery tongue, cicadas,
clit buzz, sex-slush sounds
][
green moon reflected
in my absinthe glass; anise
nightmares and daydreams
][
the year’s last dark moon
tomorrow our secret tryst
finally exposed …
quiver: what you call erotica i call despair
20 Tuesday May 2014
lost, my childhood friend,
you and I, naked, sleeping
in the tree’s shadow
][][
trapped between your thigh
and the sky-blue elastic
a curl of your hair
][][
thinking about you
even the bee’s hum, just now
sounds libidinous
][][
spring delirium
suddenly the world and I
are one, drunk as fuck
][][
both our thighs quiver
held tight in this summer heat
rubbing and grinding
][][
you said, ‘I love you’
now you’re just one more shadow
stretching into dusk
][][
kissing your blue lips
your hair knotted with seaweed
swirling in the tide
translate
29 Tuesday Apr 2014
erotic haiku
29 Tuesday Apr 2014
naked in the pool
all of my glorious scars
in sun-warmed water
][][
pleasuring myself
I don’t have a single name
to cry out, each time
][][
soon it cools and dries
smeared pearls gracing your left thigh
cum in the moonlight
][][
uncrossing her legs
hint in the shadows of lace
rush-hour subway train
][][
touch me here and here
under this indifferent ruse
I am meat dripping
][][
you don’t stand a chance
not with my ass that would tempt
both Adam and Eve
][][
t-girl at the beach
calling to Odysseus
come and see your doom
