• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Category Archives: sonnet

that’s what keeps me up at night

30 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on that’s what keeps me up at night

Tags

domestic violence, gypsy curse, safe house, scary, sonnet

Ask me what is scary. You who adore
shrieks at midnight, chainsaws and blood. A wave
of red dye number nine. As much fake gore
as your ticket stubs allow. See this grave,
ladies and gentlemen? Do not once doubt
that the dead will sleep. That gypsies don’t curse.
That Jack’s giant has stopped stomping about,
shouting, “fe – fi – fo – fum!” There is perverse
joy in being afraid, I’m told, of things
that can’t hurt you. As if to say, “scare me
again with the ridiculous doings
of cheap nightmares.”
Because that’s not scary.
Work at a safe house; hear about terrors
that look like men, what we call real monsters.

boyish sea hag

30 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on boyish sea hag

Tags

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

≈ Comments Off on love in the time of a 100 year winter

Tags

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

≈ Comments Off on three imaginary boys

Tags

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

≈ Comments Off on grotesque

Tags

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.

afterlife

27 Sunday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on afterlife

Tags

afterlife, dark science, decay, robot, rust, sonnet

Metal decays. Metal decays until
it is gone. A fine mist of rust settles
over the day. Last nightfall I was ill.
I groaned when I moved. My cogs and cables
complained. Afterlife: nothing much happens.
Here at the quiet limit of the word
argon rises, five-folded mists. Humans
deeply love magic, but hate the wizard.
As if dark science leads to a hereafter
other than what we’ve made it. Afterlife:
nothing much happens. It is my nature
to rust. Decay cuts through me like a knife.
Death has just only one dream: to conspire
to make us all into dust flakes on fire.

dead boys make the best dramas

26 Saturday Jan 2013

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

≈ Comments Off on dead boys make the best dramas

Tags

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

≈ Comments Off on eyes like the moon

Tags

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.

in illness came a void at the foot of my bed

26 Saturday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Illustration and art, Poetry, self-portrait, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on in illness came a void at the foot of my bed

Tags

death, Rumi, self-portrait, sleep, sonnet, wayfaring

wayfaring

“Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened”
— translators John Moyne & Coleman Barks

Last night I was ill again, the fever
that comes and goes, the blood cough, the bone itch.
No one came to visit. Not in my bed
and not in my dreams. Empty. Blank. A night
like that terrifies me. A void, despite
everything I know about dreams, the dead,
and the veil. It was as if a light switch
had been thrown. The silence was a torture.
I have never questioned the dead, they claimed
to know what they were doing. Plus, so what?
We the living always claim to know death
inside and out. We want death to be tamed;
we want our dead lovers as living smut;
our nights as orgies filling our last breath.

witch-wife: a response

25 Friday Jan 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on witch-wife: a response

Tags

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.

← Older posts
Newer posts →

age difference anal sex Armenia Armenian Genocide Armenian translation ars poetica art artist unknown blow job Chinese translation conversations with imaginary sisters cum cunnilingus drama erotic erotica erotic poem erotic poetry Federico Garcia Lorca fellatio finger fucking free verse ghost ghost girl ghost lover gif Gyumri haiku homoerotic homoerotica Humor i'm spilling more thank ink y'all incest Lilith Lord Byron Love shall make us a threesome masturbation more than just spilled ink more than spilled ink mythology ocean mythology Onna bugeisha orgasm Peace Corps photo poem Poetry Portuguese Portuguese translation prose quote unquote reblog retelling Rumi Sappho sea folklore Shakespeare sheismadeinpoland sonnet sorrow Spanish Spanish translation spilled ink story Taoist Pirate rituals Tarot Tarot of Syssk thank you threesome Titus Andronicus translation video Walt Whitman woman warrior xenomorph

electric mayhem [links]

  • discos bizarros argentinos
  • poesia erótica (português)
  • armenian erotica and news
  • Poetic K [myspace]
  • cyndi lauper
  • sandra bernhard
  • aimee mann

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Blog Stats

  • 393,834 hits

Categories

ars poetica: the blogs a-b

  • tiel aisha ansari
  • black satin
  • kristy bowen
  • brilliant books
  • wendy babiak
  • the art blog
  • cecilia ann
  • alzheimer's poetry project
  • lynn behrendt
  • stacy blint
  • aliki barnstone
  • armenian poetry project
  • emma bolden
  • sommer browning
  • margaret bashaar
  • american witch
  • Alcoholic Poet
  • afterglow
  • all things said and done
  • clair becker
  • sandra beasley
  • megan burns
  • afghan women's writing project
  • mary biddinger

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 44 other subscribers

Archives

ars poetica: the blogs c-d

  • cheryl clark
  • jennifer k. dick
  • juliet cook
  • julie carter
  • natalia cecire
  • lyle daggett
  • linda lee crosfield
  • CRB
  • cleveland poetics
  • flint area writers
  • roberto cavallera
  • lorna dee cervantes
  • michelle detorie
  • maria damon
  • abigail child
  • jackie clark

ars poetica: the blogs e-h

  • maggie may ethridge
  • liz henry
  • jeannine hall gailey
  • maureen hurley
  • elizabeth glixman
  • pamela hart
  • human writes
  • Free Minds Book Club
  • herstoria
  • elisa gabbert
  • joy garnett
  • Gabriela M.
  • bernardine evaristo
  • joy harjo
  • carol guess
  • sarah wetzel fishman
  • jane holland
  • carrie etter
  • ghosts of zimbabwe
  • amanda hocking
  • julie r. enszer
  • jessica goodfellow
  • hayaxk (ՀԱՅԱՑՔ)

ars poetica: the blogs i-l

  • renee liang
  • amy king
  • joy leftow
  • meg johnson
  • sandy longhorn
  • irene latham
  • donna khun
  • Jaya Avendel
  • miriam levine
  • language hat
  • maggie jochild
  • a big jewish blog
  • gene justice
  • charmi keranen
  • Kim Whysall-Hammond
  • megan kaminski
  • las vegas poets organization
  • lesbian poetry archieves
  • sheryl luna
  • laila lalami
  • IEPI
  • dick jones
  • emily lloyd
  • lesley jenike
  • diane lockward
  • kennifer kilgore-caradec

ars poetica: the blogs m-o

  • sharanya manivannan
  • michelle mc grane
  • ottawa poetry newsletter
  • My Poetic Side
  • marion mc cready
  • Nanny Charlotte
  • caryn mirriam-goldberg
  • sophie mayer
  • motown writers
  • wanda o'connor
  • michigan writers network
  • michigan writers resources
  • adrienne j. odasso
  • heather o'neill
  • january o'neil
  • nzepc
  • mlive: michigan poetry news
  • new issues poetry & prose
  • majena mafe
  • maud newton
  • iamnasra oman
  • the malaysian poetic chronicles

ars poetica: the blogs p-r

  • nicole peyrafitte
  • sophie robinson
  • helen rickerby
  • susan rich
  • split this rock
  • nikki reimer
  • maria padhila
  • ariana reines
  • kristin prevallet
  • joanna preston
  • Queen Majeeda
  • rachel phillips

ars poetica: the blogs s-z

  • ron silliman
  • tuesday poems
  • switchback books
  • sexy poets society
  • southern michigan poetry
  • shin yu pai
  • Trista's Poetry
  • womens quarterly conversation
  • tim yu
  • vassilis zambaras
  • Stray Lower
  • scottish poetry library

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • memories of my ghost sista
    • Join 44 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • memories of my ghost sista
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...