Tag: lust

Categories
Poetry

Another Bloody Craving (ABC)

(alternative title: The ABCs of Growing Up)

Thirst coming in clutch
comes on too strong
the energy’s too much
lasts far too long
                 yet never’s enough

I once yearned
for a spot of light
until I learned
some like to fight
                 such fortune earned

I bent backward
I yielded growth
I bent forward
I broke my oath,
                 agony endured

Fabricated not firm
appearance dreamlike
so in dream pain squirm
in fog we hike
                 confused we burn

One time, way back
I felt this way
so out of whack
the sky was gray
                 her love was lack

Now this heart resists
cracked and dejected
while slow time persists
this heart again rejected
                 knowing the risks

I don’t plan to push
of course, I’ll pray
I don’t plan to rush
as hasty visions fade away
                 you’ll catch me blush

At last to end on happy note
may my mind be clear
may my face emote
may I hold all beings dear
                 and refuge close
                 and may I be free

Categories
Poetry

Eroded Out

Do not feel special because
I felt you so deeply —
I’m an artist

This morning, I wept for
a fallen tree, I had fallen for
over these summer months

Now it lays stretched, dead
over the creek bed, highest branches
brushing forest floor
ground eroded out from underneath
the roots

The artist’s curse is attachment
masked as lust, even love
but the object isn’t special just because
it’s the perception, the artist’s deception
that gives rise to conception

We may have loved this thing before
and here we are losing it, once more

Don’t be fooled

To be felt deeply
is no honour, because
an artist is a slut for feeling

And now you’re just a bore


Categories
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

How Now, My Lord | Letter 7

Dearest Othello,

How do I write this now? How now, my Lord, after all that’s become of us?

How do I tell you what’s become of me?

I’ve been sun-kissed and wave-licked
I’ve been rolling in the dirt
I’ve slapped a horse’s ass, cherry picked
and I’ve spit creek water to the earth

I’ve seen snakes in grass
and long thin worms, and sometimes chubby slugs
the forest yields such photographs
beetles, spiders, bugs

Moths and butterflies have pressed me
with silken, pollened wings
while no bee nor wasp has ever stung me
as the dog-day cicada sings

A cricket symphony has often put me ‘lone to sleep
under starry skies, dry eyes wake damp with dew
out here I do not care to weep – 
a tear outside was never shed, except those I shed with you

If I never loved another, Desdemona be my name
I have never touched another, yet an Othello I have made
I have never laid another, but you laid me with the blame.

Oh, poor Othello! Confused with talk
fed into ear by Iago’s mouth, untamed and tainted
with mirthful, selfish motivation, to destroy love! Revenge!

Was my mistake the one she missed?
The one where I fought back?
For though I’m fair, when I get pissed
boundaries up and eyes go black

Not so passive, lacking grace
I begged and pleaded and tempted fate
with tearful eyes and ruddy face
now there’s nothing to investigate

I’ve not strayed, and still I wait
as Desdemona would have done
had Othello spared her life and run
her story, I do speculate, and mine

Would be as one.

So though leaves have stroked my arms
And brooks have soaked my pants,
No other man has ever stirred me
Woodsy tickles come from spiders, ants

Still, the forest gets me going,
More stagged than sumac sprigs
How then I touch myself knowing
I’ve never caved to pleasure twigs

Right now, I cannot know your mind
How now, my Lord, I’m feeling blind!
So, in ignorance I must declare:

I will never sacrifice my virtue
To die upon a kiss
Know, still, I’m saved for you.

Love, Desdemona

If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears, each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
Categories
Love Letters Thirsty Thursday

Solipsist | Letter 5

To My Muse,

A figment of my diabolical imagination. Silly lustful yearning, for you, a character from a fantasy novel I have written. You’re just the right amount of work, and we are ever unwittingly competitive. Keeps things exciting for an airy mind. Don’t you agree?

Of course, every dialogue we’ve held, every discourse exchanged has been in my mind. I try to throw you into my material world, but you don’t hold fast. I watch you release yourself time and again. So I have become addicted to the yearning for you, my muse, more than friend, almost lover, pedestalled perfection. Unconquerable, you stole my heart.

You are no strawman, and I cannot set you alight. You burn with your own passion and you spark something within me. I press on, inspired by my muse, yearning to show you what you’ve never before seen in this lifetime.

In quiet moments, when we can visit, I set us in the most unromantic places, so that a stolen glance is worth more than gold and the brush of an arm is too much. That touch, a subtle message for skin, instructs to flush. Grasping at flesh beneath clothes is knotty and taking too long. I worry the forbidden entanglement be discovered.

Out of this reverie, I am bound to chair and desk only by my own resolve to commit a fictitious tale to tablet, entertaining who it may. Spurred on like my muse’s mare, pressed with gentle kicks, cropped with supple whip, and treated with ultimate kindness though used at his whim.

My heart stolen, when you pressed yourself upon my chest. Your bosom lay where no man’s did, and so you have taken it, locked it away, like chastity, rare and precious.

I feel as though I watch you from behind a thick tapestry. Perhaps one revealing the fairytale of us, the almost ever afters, spiraling toward oblivion, time immaterial.

I whisper, I’m going to make one of those shifty eye paintings, and you shall be my star.

You lean over me once more, whispering your muse-like song:
I shall take your mind to moorelands far away. I shall dance you through the night and day. Joy and fun and boundless love and romance between us, this is where I long to stay.

And then, once more, you fade away.

My muse has gone away.

Just for now,
Adieu

Categories
Dreams Thirsty Thursday

Thirsty Thursday | Dream 1

This week we’re going to mix things up a bit. I’m going to share a thirsty dream instead of a love letter. Enjoy 😉

A Dream

You met my eye across the room,
I couldn’t believe my luck.
I felt your stare raise bumps on skin
and simply yearned to fuck.
Right before my very eyes,
you strode across the floor.
My heart beat fast and skipped a beat.
I felt your eyes once more
look me up and down, 
your hand came out,
and wrapped around my neck.
My eyes met yours, and there we stood 
with parted lips we moved toward
each others’ face and tongue
met taste of another
flesh that was hot and sweet
and cold sweat meshed
against your cheek, my 
hand came out to meet
your back and pulled you close
to grind against the fabric
of my …what was I wearing?
You went to the bathroom, 
and someone came in. A new conversation
started, and I realized the
bed I was in was getting cold,
and the sweat was real, but
the image was not, though the scene was hot,
and my bedroom came into sight,
as my eyes met the light that
the day time brought, so I had to shake
it off while still admitting
it was nice to feel your eyes
on me though it was just a dream.

Categories
Poetry

Come Together

Infinite

Endless

Space

You create your future today

Do not become overwhelmed by the opportunities
If What if is What is then Why not What if
Something fucking fantastic.

Let us come together like fire and ice
to create the perfect fog
to slowly uncover the puzzle
put together by sightless senses
somehow complete and smooth around the edges
Won’t you create intentionally with me?

Let us build a masterpiece of a life
reciprocity
boundless giving, love instead of fears
we have such fun to make
a home of sex and joy
transforming life 
for hearts we touch
and we strive to touch them all
with a swinger’s gift
unique lust lends
to love
after
all.

You showed me gypsy magic
under light of waxing moon
simple, soulful tunes,
banged out with wooden spoons
passed down from father to son
carved with mystic ruins
creating music for ear
hair raises on skin
I feel it on my neck
like hot breath
and scruff scratch
I feel it on my lower back
where kidneys rub tissue to soundtracks
my arching spine senses the divine
from this music made
so much more than sound tonight
as only magic that persuades
the body move separate from mind
out of control, dancing in time
to art brought forth from empty space
a fire burns within this place
a story comes forth from your lips
I’m dancing with it on my hips
it is hypnotic as I twirl
no longer human, no more a girl
a spirit, light and transformed, airy
you moved me with the music sound
so that my feet no longer meet ground
yet I dance, so moved by you
and you by my words
as you play your tune.

We came together this cold night
to create intentionally by candle light
both romantics, painfully, to core
wishing freedom from attachment
wishing for much more.
yet still finding the body
anything but a bore
because these human sensations
can be felt in each pore
Have you counted them recently? 
there are billions
yet we call it one piece
don’t see it fragmented
and wish for release – 
from what?

It’s the thoughts and desires
like three deadly poisons
like witches who snare
with unsolicited visions
inciting toxic ambition
that clings to an “I”
not found in team
not found in love
which only gives, lest I dream
and yearn to receive as much as I live
to selflessly, unabashedly strive
to get rid of the ego and get rid of my pride.

Until I have made much more progress here,
I just yearn for the music
to help me release fear
the magic is working
as the gypsies knew
the music is magic
and the music
is you.

Categories
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Thirsty Thursdays! | Letter 1

Since Hump Day was a little on the nose, I’ve turned to Thirsty Thursday as the appropriate weekday to share Channeled Love Letters.

These tasty treats range from love poems to stories to love letters to playlists and more! Using intuition, clairvoyance, meditation, and creativity mixed with my own cherishing and affectionate love, I have crafted a mixture of fun, smutty, and heartfelt pieces.

These letters are made of words channeled through me from lost lovers, distant places, notes pressed upon my mental continuum, felt in the world’s energy, experienced directly or made up completely.

If that doesn’t make sense yet, I’m sure it soon will. Today I’ll leave you with something short and sweet.

Subtle Devotion

In quiet moments
My mind calls on you
Astral meditation

I touch your cheek
A muse for your mind
& pray to vain gods
That our karma entwine