• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Category Archives: Erotic

mis oscuros delirios

09 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

arse, hunger, mis oscuros delirios

Mis oscuros

delirios,

sucumbiendo

ante tus ansias.

Tuve la recompensa

de tu culo,

algo yo podría

hundir mis

dientes en.

 

mis oscuros delirios

(My dark delusions, succumbing to your cravings. I had the reward of your ass, something I could sink my teeth into.)

el poeta en el trabajo

06 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

cunnilingus, el poeta en el trabajo, Spanish, the poet, translation, typewriter

Hoy. Usted escribe.

Mis dedos recorren

en todo tu cuerpo.

Tu coño empapado,

en mis manos,

un rebosante copa.

Se abre una hendidura

mojada. Mi lengua

es difícil,

penetrante,

convocando

esta loco

cosecha.

El vino

de placer

en tu cuerpo

causando

espasmos

y gemidos.

Hoy.

el poeta en el trabajo

(Today. You write. My fingers roam throughout your body. Your pussy drenched in my hands, a brimming cup. A wet slit opens. My tongue is hard, penetrating, summoning this crazy harvest. The wine of pleasure in your body causing spasms and moans. Today.)

the story of ferdinand

05 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in story

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Tags

bull fight, Ferdinand, Munro Leaf

The Story of Ferdinand

The Story of Ferdinand

Not everything in this world is erotic, nor does it need to be. There is time enough for all sorts of tenderness. This story is for all of us dreamers who were the type of children who would rather just “smell the flowers,” as the story goes. I was read this when I was a child. ¡Viva Ferdinand!

THE STORY OF FERDINAND

by Munro Leaf

Once upon a time in Spain there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand. All the other little bulls he lived with would run and jump and butt their heads together, but not Ferdinand. He liked to sit just quietly and smell the flowers. He had a favorite spot out in the pasture under a cork tree. It was his favorite tree and he would sit in its shade all day and smell the flowers.

Sometimes his mother, who was a cow, would worry about him. She was afraid he would be lonesome all by himself. “Why don’t you run and play with the other little bulls and skip and butt your head?” she would say. But Ferdinand would shake his head. “I like it better here where I can sit just quietly and smell the flowers.” His mother saw that he was not lonesome, and because she was an understanding mother, even though she was a cow, she let him just sit there and be happy.

As the years went by Ferdinand grew and grew until he was very big and strong. All the other bulls who had grown up with him in the same pasture would fight each other all day. They would butt each other and stick each other with their horns. What they wanted most of all was to be picked to fight at the bull fights in Madrid. But not Ferdinand — he still liked to sit just quietly under the cork tree and smell the flowers.

One day five men came in very funny hats to pick the biggest, fastest roughest bull to fight in the bull fights in Madrid. All the other bulls ran around snorting and butting, leaping and jumping so the men would think that they were very very strong and fierce and pick them. Ferdinand knew that they wouldn’t pick him and he didn’t care.

So he went out to his favorite cork tree to sit down. He didn’t look where he was sitting and instead of sitting on the nice cool grass in the shade he sat on a bumble bee. Well, if you were a bumble bee and a bull sat on you what would you do? You would sting him. And that is just what this bee did to Ferdinand. Wow! Did it hurt! Ferdinand jumped up with a snort. he ran around puffing and snorting, butting and pawing the ground as if he were crazy.

The five men saw him and they all shouted with joy. here was the largest and fiercest bull of all. Just the one for the bull fights in Madrid! So they took him away for the bullfight day in a cart.

What a day it was! Flags were flying, bands were playing … and all the lovely ladies had flowers in their hair. They had a parade into the bull ring. First came the Banderilleros with long sharp pins with ribbons on them to stick in the bull and make him mad. Next came the Picadores who rode skinny horses and they had long spears to stick in the bull and make him madder. Then came the Matador, the proudest of all — he thought he was very handsome, and bowed to the ladies. He had a red cape and a sword and was supposed to stick the bull last of all. Then came the bull, and you know who that was don’t you? — FERDINAND.

They called him Ferdinand the Fierce and all of the Banderilleros were afraid of him and the Picadores were afraid of him and the Matador was scared stiff. Ferdinand ran to the middle of the ring and everyone shouted and clapped because they thought he was going to fight fiercely and butt and snort and stick his horns around. But not Ferdinand. When he got to the middle of the ring he saw the flowers in all the lovely ladies’ hair and he just sat down quietly and smelled.

He wouldn’t fight and be fierce no matter what they did. He just sat and smelled. And the Banderilleros were mad and the Picadores were madder and the Matador was so mad he cried because he couldn’t show off with his cape and sword.

So they had to take Ferdinand home.

And for all I know he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly.

He is very happy.

cuando llegue manana

03 Monday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry

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Tags

cuando llegue manana, hookah, psychedelic, shadow puppet, Spanish, translation

Nada es mío. Nada

es totalmente mío.

Esa es la droga llamada

el erotismo. Seducción.

Y me encanta esta droga.

Me encanta que nadie

puede hacerte temblar

de placer, como lo hago.

Me encanta que nadie

accederá a tus mas profundos

deseos, como lo hago.

A pesar de todo esto,

usted continúa a soñar

besando a un extraño.

Mañana, usted dice.

Cuando llegue mañana.

sueno del narguile

(Nothing is mine. Nothing is totally mine. That’s the drug called eroticism. Seduction. And I love this drug. I love that no one can make you tremble with pleasure, as I do. I love that nobody will access your deepest desires, as I do. Despite all this, you continue to dream of kissing a stranger. Tomorrow, you say. When tomorrow comes)

Image

pink flower pulsing

02 Sunday Sep 2012

Tags

flower, gif, pink, pulsing, pussy

pink flower pulsing

Posted by babylon crashing | Filed under .gif, Erotic

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ajeno deseo

30 Thursday Aug 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

ajeno deseo, alien, lindo insecto, Spanish, translation

Ahora solas, sentí tus labios

mientras tú me besó.

Me comí mi propio miedo.

Llamaron a usted un monstruo,

sino eras tan hermosa que yo

no tenía palabras. Usted

pone tus garras en mi boca,

en busca de el éxtasis

de una orgasmo; en un siseo

que podría haber sido la muerte

de un animal pequeño o un sueño

cumplido. Yo vivía con tu el olor

de la muerte y sexo.

Yo vivía con mi sangre

y con tu ajeno deseo.

Todos los amantes

famosos eran monstruo.

 

trippy little bug

(Now alone, I felt your lips while you kissed me. I ate my own fear. They called you a monster, but you were so beautiful that I had no words. You put your claws in my mouth, looking for the ecstasy of orgasm in a hiss that could have been the death of a small animal or a dream fulfilled. I lived with a smell of death and sex. I lived with my blood and your alien desire. All famous lovers were monsters.)

hermana de cain, sin nombre

29 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry

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Tags

biblical erotica, Cain, forbidden, incest, sister, Spanish, translation

Hermana de Cain, sin nombre.

Un deseo prohibida.

Una secreta pasión.

Una delicia terrenal.

Diario vivir, respirar segundo

a segundo. Ella aún recordó cuando

las dedos de ella hermano, jugaban

con los tetinas de ella senos.

Érase una vez había un jardín

del deseo. Caín tuvo relaciones

sexuales con su hermana,

provocando un estallido

de humedad en ese lugar calido

y ardiente de ella intimidad.

Ella quedó embarazada y dio

a luz a Enoc. ¿sino prohibida?

Era la Amanecer de la Humanidad.

Todo estaba delicioso.

(Cain’s sister, unnamed. A desire forbidden. A secret passion. An earthly delight. Daily living, breathing second to second. She still remembered when her brother’s fingers played with the nipples of her breasts. Once upon a time there was a garden of desire. Cain had sex with his sister, causing a burst of moisture in that warm and fiery place of her privacy. She became pregnant and gave birth to Enoch. But forbidden? It was the dawn of mankind. Everything was delicious)

rojo bambu (soneto)

29 Wednesday Aug 2012

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

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Tags

art, rojo bambu, sonnet, Spanish, translation

August 29, 2012 [2]

Primero compré un lanzamiento del bambú rojo, menos

que un pie, y tomó abajo anguila-como la lámina

con la manija de la quijada del boquete. Debo confesar

tomó un día para tallarlos. Estoy asustado

tres eran todos lo que podría dominar. Entonces encontré

el viejo pote de arcilla formado fuera de nightshade

y sangre. La llené y después encendí un redondo

encienda abajo de punto bajo. Tallé una pregunta y puse

en un desecho de madera, lo fijó para arder: ¿quién

hay fuera de? Los fuegos crackled hasta que

A.M.E.X.Q. fue deletreado. ¿Qué blithesome

el alcohol es usted, amor? Después: Le espero.

Mi corte de bambú pasado era rezo: ¿cuándo

usted vendrá? ¿Alcohol de la prisa – cuándo usted vendrá?

][][

(First I bought a shoot of red bamboo, less than a foot, and took down the eel-like blade with the gap jaw handle. I must confess it took a day to carve them. I’m afraid three was all I could master. Then I found the old clay pot fashioned out of nightshade and blood. I filled it and then lit a round fire down low. I carved a question and laid it on a wood scrap, set it to blaze: who is out there? The fires crackled until A.M.E.X.Q. was spelled. What blithesome spirit are you, love? Next: I wait for you. My last bamboo cutting was prayer: when will you come? Hurry spirit — when will you come?)

debajo de ti

29 Wednesday Aug 2012

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

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Tags

art, cunnilingus, ghost, Janis Joplin, Spanish, translation

August 29, 2012 [3]

“Y parece que todo el mundo en toda

la ronda mundo está abajo en mí,”

— Janis Joplin

Esta noche soñé contigo, Janis.

Tu lengua jugaba con la mía, mezclándose

tu dicha con la mía. Estabas sudada,

excitada, mojada y furiosa.

Tenias tus manos en mi cabeza,

con mi lengua dentro tus vientre,

y tu espalda contra la pared.

Esta noche, hermanita, estoy “debajo

de ti.” No sé si los muertos

pueden tener orgasmos.

Pero, Janis, esta noche mi boca

está llena de tu dicha.

][][

(This night I dreamed about you, Janis. Your tongue played with mine, mixing your bliss with mine. Were sweaty, excited, wet and angry. You had your hands on my head, with my tongue in your belly, and your back against the wall. Tonight, sister, I am “down on you.” I do not know if the dead can have orgasms. But Janis, tonight my mouth is filled with your bliss.)

voy a bajar, Janis/ I’m going down, Janis

23 Thursday Aug 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in .gif, Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry

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Tags

art, gif, girl on fire, Poetry

“Y parece que todo
el mundo en toda
la ronda mundo
está abajo en mí,”

– Janis Joplin?

Voy a bajar, Janis.
Tu vello púbico
enredados
en las cortas caricias de mi
respiración. Mi lengua lame
tus polvo de tumba olores.
Esta noche, parece que todo
el mundo en
toda la ronda
mundo está abajo en usted.
Un millón de las lenguas
que lamen. O tal vez sólo
la mía. Me encanta cuando
los muertos
tienen orgasmos.
Janis, mi boca está
llena de tu leche.

(I’m going down, Janis. Your pubic hair entangled in the short strokes of my breath. My tongue licking your grave dust odors. Tonight, it seems that everyone in the whole round world is down on you. A million tongues licking. Or maybe just mine. I love it when the dead have orgasms. Janis, my mouth is full of your cum)

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