• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Tag Archives: bisexual

the thin edge of sin

10 Tuesday Sep 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

bisexual, carried away, do not, erotic poetry, ghost lover, sonnet, war poetry

Odd. I write about ghosts lovers, you say,
“don’t get carried away.” I write about
the weight of a rifle, though, its blue-gray
metal, its stock sticking bolt, all the doubt
I had in hitting the man over there,
trouble of loading while on the run, shock
of noise, recoil; you grin. You love warfare,
warcraft, the way I love a dead boy’s cock,
a dead sister’s clit. You, who will never
burden yourself with another’s life blood,
mock this: sex is sin. War? Necessity.
Thank you, but I’ll stick with my ghost lover,
the one whose been to hell and back naked;
who knows about love and death equally.

mino’s bull

05 Tuesday Mar 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, sonnet

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Tags

Asterion, bisexual, cyclone orgasm, Greek myth, homorerotic, Mino's Bull, minotaur, mythology, Theseus, yaoi, zipless fuck

And then, lying deep inside you, I wait
to be kissed. But your face is pressed into
the wet grass, fast asleep. You are deadweight
under me. Is twenty minutes all you
have to offer? I was just warming up.
Tsk. I was born in Crete, far to the east.
A beast-like child. “They will fear you, worship
you,”
father said. But he wasn’t a beast,
only a fiend. I was Mino’s Bull.
My real name is Asterion. Theseus,
wake up. You are seeping and flooded, full
of my love; fagged and shagged, fashed and lifeless.
Child of clay, I want another tumble.
I want to make the ground scream and rumble.

nox diva

20 Wednesday Feb 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

Aphrodisias, bisexual, blow job, fellatio, Greece, MMF, mythology, Nox Diva, praise song, sonnet, swimming pool, threesome

I am the mildest of creatures, spell-bound,
gossamer, a thorn jutting. The nox diva

inside the mushrooms growing on the mound
where I buried you. First there is nausea,
sweats, my gut turning. Then you open up

inside my skull-bone; a whiskey cactus,
melting. A mushroom is like a polyp;

I’ve found both on you. I turn, like Horace,
into your well-mannered court slave. Ghost slave.

Slave of a ghost. Each time you slide into
my mouth you leave part of yourself behind.

One day I’ll consume you all. Then your grave
will stand empty. I can’t let go of you,

no-no, even if I was so inclined.

* * *

Notes:

Nox diva is my attempt at translating the phrase “night goddess” into Latin.

Horace was one of Rome’s greatest poets, one whom the English poet John Dryden dismissed as “a well-mannered court slave.”

you oughta know by now—

13 Wednesday Feb 2013

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

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Tags

amor mío, bisexual, Federico Garcia Lorca, homoerotica, homophobia, sonnet, The Mamas and The Papas, Words of Love

federico garcia lorca, mi amor

federico garcia lorca, mi amor

* * *

“If your girl likes rhythm and blues, look out
’cause cake’s in the house…”

— Sir Mix-a-lot, Cake Boy

“If you love her” and “then you must send her
somewhere”
and “where she’s never been before.”

Do not mock “words of love, soft and tender.”

All my “worn out phrases” come straight from war.
Lovers still die. I’m “a buttercup boy
from the funny school.”
By definition
I’ve been to places a 60s tomboy

hasn’t, as all children can claim. Semen
running down our chins. Still, I’ll make you glow,
mamas and papas, take you down tonight.

To where they shot Lorca. Because you mocked
everything “soft and tender.” Federico,
mi amor, I’ll burn them down with delight.
It will leave their souls horror-struck and shocked.

* * *

Note:

* The Spanish poet, Federico Garcia Lorca, was assassinated in 1936 by General Franco’s fascists for being a liberal and a queer.

* The 1960s group The Mamas and the Papas sang the song Words of Love, which I quote from in the poem. Regardless of what I say elsewhere, bless you, Mama Cass (though Papa John can bite me, jerk)

* I’ve been living with Sir Mix-a-lot’s fake ode (he of the Baby Got Back fame) to the effeminate in men, Cake Boy, for many a year now. It is equally fascinating and frustrating, much like society’s take on the fey. It might not be the very first attempt in mainstream media to talk about gay and transgendered African Americans (see: Honey Honey Miss Thang for a longer discussion) but it was one of the first I came across in hip hop. I am not African American, but I certainly identified with the cake boy motif he describes. I call this a fake ode because at the end of the song Mix-a-lot advocates physical violence against any effeminate man who might be coming on strong to a homeboy’s girlfriend. Homophobia and gay-bashing will always be crimes to send you to the 7th circle of hell in my book.

the first exile

20 Sunday Jan 2013

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

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Tags

bisexual, cruising, cunnilingus, drunk on spunk, Edward the Dyke, Judy Grahn, Liliti, mythology, sonnet, strap-on sister, the first exile

 

“I’m not a good lay/ I’m a straight razor,”
Judy Grahn, “Edward the Dyke”

There was no grief. The summer radio
played “you can have my husband/ but don’t mess
with my woman”
all day long. Your afro
gleamed as we cruised in your Austin Princess
downtown. Playtime approached. After playtime
came dawn. Dusk and dawn. But you, drunk on spunk,
the first exile, loved love during wartime,
with your kerosene myth, junk in your trunk
and duck’s arse cut. Girls called you Liliti;
I called you my “mama-jan;” my surreal
strap-on sister. My roots and the orgy
where I was conceived. One hand on the wheel
while your other played with my head between
your thighs, licking your clit stiff and obscene.

ambas cosas son ciertas

13 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

bisexual, cock, nipples, Spanish, translation

Ayer me escribió, “La punta

de tu polla apuntando al cielo,

hinchado, largo y oscuro.

Algunos pueden llamar a esta obsceno.

Yo lo llamo oración.” Hoy escribo,

“Las puntas de tus pechos apuntando

al cielo, hinchado, largo y oscuro.

Algunos pueden llamar a esta obsceno.

Yo lo llamo oración.” Ambas

cosas son ciertas.

 

(Yesterday I wrote, “The tip of your cock pointing to the sky, puffy, long and dark. Some may call this obscene. I call it prayer.” Today I write, “The tips of your breasts pointing to the sky, puffy, long and dark. Some may call this obscene. I call it prayer.” Both are true.)

Das Nachthexen Sonett: 01

07 Tuesday Feb 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Feminism, Poetry

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Tags

bisexual, Lily Litvyak, praise song, Sappho, sonnet, Soviet air force, woman warrior, WWII

Lily, unless the gifted Anahit
lies at your side, sleepless you must now be.
To watch a lover burn up, like mincemeat,
over No Man’s Land. How your poor empty
bed must recall the groans then moans? Again
all these odes to war. Nine muses, you say?
Sappho the Bisexual makes it ten.
Poet of Wars and Clits. Old Boss DJ
still spins your tracks. “I am what I say.” Poor
Sappho, you are bones and dust. Lily’s love
lays, burned in a field. Not even the sky
can drink up all her tears. What fool said war
was good sport? Let her grave be of foxglove,
wild plums; even bisexuals must die.

escândalo

27 Monday Jun 2011

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

bisexual, husband, Portuguese, scandalous, translation, wife

E o que eu faço,

se eu me sinto

um inferno

de uma paixão

por teu marido,

também? Eu sei

que você não pode

dizer não para mim.

Você é uma dona

de casa com as filhos

e com fome sem fim.

Pensar sobre o escândalo

de teu marido apaixonado

com um animal como mim?

Eu odeio a escolher.

E eu amo escândalo.

Translation:

And what do I do if I fall in love with your husband, too? I know you can not say no to me. You’re a housewife with children and endless hunger. Think about the scandal of your husband in love with an animal like me? I hate to choose. And I love scandal.

bisexual

07 Saturday May 2011

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

≈ Comments Off on bisexual

Tags

bisexual, fearing desire, homoerotica, Portuguese, translation

 

Não estou sendo hipócrita,

você teme tua desejos,

eu não temo nada.

O mundo é bissexual,

é a nossa natureza.

Admiramos todo a beleza.

É uma canção.

Nua, ele dizia:

– Mais abaixo,

meu bem,

eu quero

o teu arpeggio carnais.

E a minha boca — cantando — obedecia.

In English:

I’m not being hypocritical, you fear your wishes, I fear nothing. The world is bisexual, it’s our nature. We admire all the beauty. It’s a song. Naked, he said: – Lower, baby, I want your flesh arpeggio. And my mouth – singing – obeyed.

god cum

13 Wednesday Oct 2010

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

bisexual, divine orgasm, drunken glory, exhibitionist, god cum, gods, orgy, sonnet

It is mid-October and the camera
is on and everyone is drunk and bi
(at least tonight) Someone playing Hooka
Mama on the boom box. We hear you sigh
as your girlfriend’s strap-on fills up your cunt
and I slide into your ass. One of us
remains silent, one gives a surprised grunt
and then cries. A storm brewing. This kindness
among strangers. Amateur porn. We’ve all
been there. Soon you are whimpering at each
double stroke. Crying. It sounds like grace. Call
to prayer. I love this worship, it can teach
us so much. You, you, me. Divine threesome.
Saying: cum in me, cum in me, god, cum!

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