• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Tag Archives: shaman

shaman

15 Saturday Aug 2020

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

cunnilingus, erotic poetry, gold mine, lilith's daughter, more than spilled ink, poem, ramrod, shaman, sonnet, sopping mess

Our gods call this prayer. Men say sin. I’ll take
divine every time. Your fingers barely

brush my flesh as they pass by. We are ache
and stardust, star-child. In a galaxy

afraid of this sort of pleasure you press
down. Take me in, shaman. We speak in moans,

holy words that leave us a sopping mess.
This prayer. This space between your pubic bones.

Stretching you. The good pain when you use this
as the conduit to speak to our gods ––

Lean back while I finger your clit until
you can’t hold yourself up. Hard fuck. Hard kiss.

Hard faith, moon girl. Lilith’s daughter. Ramrods.
Gold mines. We cum as one. Our gods’ goodwill.

fester

27 Sunday Jan 2019

Posted by babylon crashing in Disaster –- Pain –- Sorrow, irony, Poetry, self-portrait, sonnet

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Tags

alcoholic, fester, holes in my brain, poem, Poetry, shaman, sonnet, the gods breathe, worlds in my skull

All these displays of drunkenness come on
me at odd moments. At twelve they were droll,

even charming. Now? I know that neurons
misfire in my head, though huffing xylol

didn’t help, up along neural pathways
in my brain so that I seem a sucker,

easy mark, artless fuck. All these displays,
from dazed to frenzy, with fears that fester

here, of damage that won’t heal. They all seethe
here. I rave and reel just like cast-off junk.

Manic. A shaman without her people
is just one more loon who hears the gods breathe.

I’ve no people. I don’t drink but I’m drunk
roaming holes in my brain, worlds in my skull.

the invisible world (o mundo invisível)

02 Sunday Jun 2013

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

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

art, erotic, o mundo invisível, Poetry, Portuguese translation, shaman, the invisible world

this invisible world

Eu sei por que a alma
é tesão. Eu sei por que
o mundo invisível é tesão.
Eu deslizo para dentro
o invisível.
Eu sou o seu erótico
xamã. Eu amo
os vivos e os mortos.
Eu sei por que você quer
penetração.
Por você,
depravação,
eu quero, preciso
e me entrego.

.
I know why the soul
is horny. I know why
the invisible world is horny.
I slide into
the unseen.
I’m your erotic
shaman. I love
the living and the dead.
I know why you want
penetration.
For you,
depravity,
I want, need
and I surrender.

lost in the clouds

27 Wednesday Feb 2013

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

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Tags

Basho, clouds, lost in fog, shaman, sonnet, winter

lost in clouds

Reading in the cold of the afternoon
I grow sleepy, stand up to get my blood
flowing. Under my window there’s a dune
of snow, a hillock. I have tried acid,
hashish and opium, but none of them
bring me such visions as that half-way state
between our life and death. When the warm phlegm
freezes in my throat, and all my deadweight
pushes upon my heart, then the dreams come.
Then I leave this body, cold as iron,
and fly, as Basho said, like “wild geese lost
in the clouds.”
There is a lovely wisdom
to be found, lost in clouds. When I return
I find my poor body covered in frost.

* * *

Note:

The Japanese poet Matsuo Basho wrote the haiku I’m quoting part of. The whole poem reads: “Friends part/ forever — wild geese/ lost in cloud.” Ah, heartache.

shaman’s trip

28 Wednesday Apr 2010

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

ancient fuckers, gods, Holy-Holy, libations, shaman, sonnet

Wide shine coming from you standing open
in the window. Now, a damn breaking, rich
reeking with the end of winter, molten
weight of loam dripping. The smell of spinach,
hot shaved copper, all finger lickin’ good.
Pull the curtains. A damn. A curse. The door
behind you shuts. This lust around us. Should
pharaohs, ancient fuckers, need one more whore
like me, then I’ll go. I’ll do anything
for you. This affair, these lamentations,
libations, our bodies, earth full fucking.
Leave your body, come in me, a shaman’s
trip, sweet burnt offerings. I’m your Holy-
Holy with you screaming “god, cum in me!”

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erotica [links]

  • nina hartley
  • susie "sexpert" bright
  • mighty jill off
  • the pearl (a magazine of facetiae and volupous reading, 1879-1880)
  • nifty stories
  • poesia erótica (português)
  • armenian erotica and news
  • erotica readers and writers association

electric mayhem [links]

  • clara smith
  • discos bizarros argentinos
  • ida cox
  • cyndi lauper
  • Severus & the Deatheaters [myspace]
  • sandra bernhard
  • Poetic K [myspace]
  • aimee mann

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ars poetica: the blogs i-l

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