• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Category Archives: Erotic

vain and macabre

31 Thursday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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hairy woman, macabre, pubic hair, shaving, sonnet, vain

You asked, dear boy, now that I’m in the grave
if I had ever tried to shave the hair
off my cunny? Once or twice. But to shave
a ghost’s pubes, it cannot be done. I swear,
we can try, it’ll be fun, but there is no
razor made by man that can get the job
done. How other ghosts bear it, I don’t know.
Death makes us all rather vain and macabre.
I died in my nightgown, which will become
transparent when wet. Pity the girl cursed
to wear only panties until kingdom
come, with pubes peeking. I’d die of shame first.
Do you care? Let me sit on your face, nose
in my curls. Now make me gasp out all my oohs.

drops of gray

30 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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forbidden, freak-out, ghost girl, kink show horror, sonnet, tears

Is that where the fear lies? When the dead girl
turns all the way around and we behold …

one more sad, misshaped face — one more swirl
of dark, untidy hair — blue skin stone cold —
X of a broken neck — empty drowned eyes.

You know that party trick; it’s all you hear
about. I wouldn’t call it total “lies,”
but there has to be more. A ghost unclear
on the concept just gets laughed at. Darling,

come live with me. We’ll figure something out.
There’s more to death than clammy skin, creaking
floors and causing the irksome to freak-out.

Smile, my honey dear, while, I kiss away
your tears … drops of blood, of dust, drops of gray.

boyish sea hag

30 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Bermuda, blood kelp, El Salvador, Hebrides, natty dreads, ocean, reading waves, sea hag, sea magic, skerries, sonnet, Yahweh

I read these waters. The hoarse Hebrides;
the sun-blind surges of El Salvador;
Bermuda’s coral reefs; Dublin’s rock skerries.
I’m the middle between the void and shore.
Far out from in the waves comes the reply.
Mist of sundown rises, stretches away
across the horizon and distant sky.
Reading waves is like talking to Yahweh,
grumpy old man. I draw in the sea, shreds
of speech that wash away. I take sea-weed
off rocks, blood kelp, make them my natty dreads.
A spar is my staff. I am a half-breed;
boyish sea hag; living a life devoid
of words, either on shore or in the void.

love in the time of a 100 year winter

30 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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100 year winter, Bank Holiday, Cair Paravel, chemotherapy, giant, groovy cheetah sex, Jadis, Jinn, Narnia, sonnet, White Witch

We were on Bank Holiday at a Lone
Islands resort. Her job was stressful,
sure, she told me, having sat on the throne
all those crazy years at Cair Paravel.
Dating the Chatelaine of Narnia
has its perks. The bling was always brilliant.
I tell you, nothing beats groovy cheetah
sex with a girl who’s half Jinn, half Giant.
Plus, she reads! I’ll take a White Witch with brains
over vapid wood nymphs, tsk. While ago
she had gone through chemo. But her migraines
returned. It hurts to watch her walk so slow.
She knows. I’m there. Give me your rage, sorrow,
fear. I’m here, Jadis, til’ the end, you know.

three imaginary boys

28 Monday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet, story

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boy-on-boy, erotic blasphemes, Harajuku boy, homoerotic, plastic toy, Riko, Sen, sex demon, sonnet, story, The Cure, three imaginary boys, Yuudai

 

1.
“Where are we going?” Sen asked. “Somewhere new.”
Yuudai pulled him along. Sen looked over
his left shoulder at the shadows that grew
down the street, the broken streetlamp. Litter
blew this way and that. But, to Sen’s surprise,
Yuudai pressed on. Weird kid, he thought. Before
long, though, he was lost; didn’t recognize
the streets. Soft, a snatch of song by The Cure
came to him. “Hey,” he called, “where is this place?
Is it close?” “Hai.”
The night was deserted.
Sen kicked trash out of the way. The boy’s face
glowed. “I am still tripping from his acid,”
he thought. “Speed and weed and all those small sins.
May rot lead us to where the fun begins.”

2.
A line. Souls at the door. Sen heard thunder;
a dark music. “Follow me,” said Yuudai,
skipping the queue, waving at the bouncer.
The club was a wall of noise; a DJ
booth took up the stage. Between laser beams
bodies were milling, dancing, cavorting;
shadows making erotic blasphemes
on the dance floor. Boots, top hats, billowing
skirts. A mess of leather, makeup, hair dye,
metal studs, fetish gear, body art. Sen
was stunned. “Do you like it?” He nodded. “Hai.”
“Let’s have fun” — and the boy vanished within,
leaving Sen to shiver with an odd chill;
the way perfume left behind haunts us still.

3.
Sen was pushed back and forth by the crushing
mass of bodies. Halfway through the packed throng
he stopped, leaning against the wall, closing
his eyes, listening to the pulsing song.
Hollow vocals sounding disconnected.
Lost. All alone. He blinked and realized
he’d been standing there a while. A putrid
stench, a waft, hung in the air. It surprised
him that he could smell anything at all.
He went to the bar, looking for Yuudai.
Had he really lost him? His menthol
cigarette sputtered, the coal turning gray.
“Bela Lugosi’s dead,” a touch of dread
as the song keened, “undead, undead, undead.”

4.
Sen touched the arm of a boy sitting next
to him. “Moshi-moshi, can you help me?
I am trying to find –”
If Sen felt vexed
about Yuudai it passed; his mood lewdly
changed the moment this new boy turned around.
“You,” he said. “I’m looking for you.” “You’re hot.”
Sen blushed, as if it were the most profound
thing he had ever heard. Fuck me, he thought.
The boy handed him a drink. “I’m Riko.”
he purred, “and tonight you shall be my whore.”
“I hope so.” “I know so.”
The boy’s afro
and dress made him Guro: innocent gore.
Sen had a taste for Harajuku boys;
androgynous beauty, like plastic toys.

5.
They called it the “Broken Doll” look that year.
“Guro Lolita.” The problem, Sen thought,
was his makeup; lathered from ear to ear,
Riko’s face looked as blank as a robot;
a mask behind the thinly painted lines
of his black lips and eyebrows. “Been here long?”
“A long time.” The boy smiled, flashing canines
in the dark; singing along with the song
that filled the air. They grinned at each other
over the music. “Do you want to dance?”
The night seethed around them with its odor
of lust, of rot, leaving Sen in a trance.
He licked his lips as if the meat were fresh.
Tonight he would consume this strange boy’s flesh.

6.
Dancers swirled around, as if they would drown
in a sea of bodies. Sen felt Riko
grind up rudely against him, up and down.
Midnight passed. He was exhausted, his slow
shuffle dance, now out of sync with the song
shaking the room. Something smelled of decay.
“I need to sit,” he said. Something was wrong.
But what? The two odd boys shambled their way
back to the bar. Drink followed drink. Sen’s head
hurt. He swayed. Riko linked his arms with Sen’s.
“I’m drunk. How is this going to end?” Sen said.
Riko smiled: “I’ll show you how it begins;
with a kiss that knows both lust and anguish;
it starts with two lover boys and a wish.”

7.
In a green haze Sen let himself be led.
They passed a lounge where a crowd of shadows
circled a table. “Wuzz all that?” Sen said.
“Nothing, pet.” A smile flit across Riko’s
painted-on lips. “Nothing you need to fret
about yet.” “Where are we?”
Sen glanced, red-eyed,
around the foul men’s room. “Do not forget
what I am about to give you.”
Sen’s pride
and joy flopped limply in the boy’s cold grasp.
“Tsk, aren’t you called Sin?” Riko smirked, “frightened
to try something new?”
Sen gave a small gasp
as his cock, in those gray fingers, thickened
as grave cold lips — “Bela Lugosi’s dead” —
drained him until the victim had been bled.

grotesque

27 Sunday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in bibical erotica, Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Azazyel, beastly beauty, grotesque, hashish, homoerotica, mescal, Otherwhere, peyote, sonnet

“While I was at Otherwhere, on the moors,
I met a grotesque boy, a faery’s child.
His hair was long with a darkness that lures
away women and boys. His was a wild
love, a wickedness soaked in sin,”
the priest
told me when I asked if my Azazyel
had passed him by. Half-angel and half-beast;
I’ve lost my mate, my seraphic rebel.
I have been to the shamans of the Sioux
and the Sami; they’ve shown me his beastly
beauty, lost in the land of fever-dew,
drunk on hashish, mescal and peyote.
Love is grotesque. Just a taste will begin
our hunt for this drunkenness we call sin.

dead boys make the best dramas

26 Saturday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry, sonnet

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dead lover, drama queen, eerie beauty, grave, homoerotic, kissing, sexton, sonnet, the dead

dead boys make the best drama

The boy was gorgeous in the middle hour,
being part flesh and all rot. The sexton
watched him rise up and cast away his sour
smelling funeral shroud. His cracked, swollen
limbs soon smoothed themselves out. Flesh returning
to his frame. Dead boys make the best drama
queens. Still, love is love. The sexton, stepping
out from behind a gravestone, nausea
that the living feel for the dead quickly
fading, wrapped his warm arms around the cold,
little boy; pulling his eerie beauty
close, as if love was something we could hold.
Sacred love, no matter how odd or small;
we are blessed if we find our love at all.

eyes like the moon

26 Saturday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry, sonnet

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Azazyel, mother, pregnant, rebel angel, sonnet, war in heaven

shooting an arrow at the sun

“I shot an arrow into the air
it fell to earth I knew not where,”

from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s
“The Arrow and the Song”

When she came to me, Azazyel, I didn’t
put two and two together. All angels
can be fickle souls and I was pregnant
at the time. To ascribe human morals
to them is like saying rocks choose to be
good or that the sky chooses to be blue.
Really? As lovers I knew her swampy
region, her tiny hills, her lush bamboo
grove. Then came war. Just because I can’t touch
her does not mean she’s gone. Our Sammael
looks like you: with horns, hooves, eyes like the moon.
Of the rebels, the news never says much.
just, “shots fired in the third circle of Hell.”
Hurry home soon, lover. Hurry home soon.

witch-wife: a response

25 Friday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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ghost lover, polar bear, sonnet, wife-husband, witch

So you have issues with independent,
hairy girls? What’s this crap about her not
being “made for any man”? what blatant
douchebag talks like that these days? If you thought
all her dark craft was picked up second hand,
lifted from a Grimm’s tale, then you don’t know
jack. I bet you can’t even find Lapland
on a map. She’s a Northern Lights girl; snow
and ice do not vex her soul; polar bear
spirits love her. As a shaman she’s seen
worlds you can not even dream of. The air
is her home. She is lusty and obscene.
I am amazed that she did not castrate
you on the spot. You make a wretched mate.

* * *

I wrote this poem in response to Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Witch-Wife,” (1917) where she lists all the reasons why having a witch as a spouse might, as the kids say, “suck dead bunnies through a straw.” The reasons she gives are terrible (what does “her voice is a string of colored beads” even mean?). Besides describing a “man of his times,” (i.e., racist and sexist) it is hard to imagine why anyone would consent to marry an ass so out of touch and hostile to their own mate as the narrator of the poem is.

She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun ’tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.

la llorona: mi la lujuria

24 Thursday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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ghost mother, La Llorona, mi la lujuria, river, sonnet, weeping

Like the war witch, Medea, my love killed
her sons to prove a point. My weeping ghost,
my queer Llorona. I kissed her. That thrilled
me; to have her pause in her wail, her braid
of cold hair undone, the tip of her tongue
between my lips. I washed her feet and combed
her hair. I gave her a dress from a young
mother I knew. Soon, hand in hand, we roamed
the banks of her river. All you have heard
about Llorona is, in truth, gossip.
We slept in a pear orchard and savored
our short love. The sort that feels like worship.
Once I was told the reasons, I admit,
for her deeds, but right now I forget it.

Note:

La Llorona (The Weeping Woman) is Central and South American legend of an indigenous mother who drowns her children in a river and then was forced to spend all eternity searching for them, crying as she wanders, lost the canyons and banks of rivers.

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