Tag: Lust

Flower o’ Life

The shadows are recedingFlower of Life
the dawn is near
Freshness wet and calm
All will be clear
The waiting has begun
calm cool quiet
patiently waiting
to feel the light
The well-being of
a clear silver pond
The sparkle of the dew
and still I wait
Like the silence before dawn
waiting to be filled
with life
with light.

To be touched with caring tenderness
like smooth softness
like water
The slow sensation of twilight
A star in the overpowering
blackness of night.

And slowly the flower o’ life
opens
Full and beautiful
slow and majestic
and I want to touch her.

Fragment – God’s Grain –

Sleep is hard to obtain.

The night is bright

with a moon that silvers my curtains.

But I think of other beauty.

Of things to be

and things that might be.

My answer

Her reply

always she replies.

Never she answers.

Never I ask.

Perhaps she thinks of me.

Perhaps not.

*

Galaxies swirl

stirred by God’s finger.

A planet soup

and he gives me a small want.

For her.

For the fragile hand

that I may squeeze too hard.

How I wish to spoil her

Giving much

not expecting much.

I wish for only

a small measure of love.

To have her consent.

*

She moves as a faerie

in the mist.

A sprite

in mischief.

A nymph

in the woods.

*

I move heavily

Big

an imposter in the forest

and mist.

Yes

clumsy.

I wish not to force her

merely to suggest

Maybe we will dance.

Ode to Vicky

I can’t soar anymore

my wings are fine

it’s just my spirit

its broken.

My black child

white rimmed curves

So gentle

So subtle

Smooth and cold.

My child was difficult but when we played

she screamed.

Orgasm after orgasm

filled with an untamed spirit

that wailed like an exulted banshee

in the soft deep light of the moon

My fingers cramped

My shoulders arched

with ghastly pain

I sweated like deaths steaming black steed

and still she screamed

screaming more!

More!

Faster!

FASTER!

*

And I fell to my knees

exhausted

exhulted

and she would stop wailing.

Her spirit ridden

Tired but still hot

Coals glowing in the dark

Tired

Hot

Still yearning to be spurred on

still seething with life

Now my black child

she’s dead

Although her spirit still glows

My lungs are charred

black with the yearning for death

and I can’t fly anymore

My wings are fine

it’s just my spirit

it’s broken.

The Moth

I see her above meThe Moth

and I am a moth

I’m drawn to her like a moth to a candle

Her brightness allures me in my dark world

I circle her to look again

Now I feel her warmth warming me to the heart

I fly closer

Circle her once again

She’s so beautiful

so warm and infinately deep

*

I break the circle

Fly to her

Want to be with her

but she singes my soft powdery wings

My fleshy body is burnt

is burning, boiling to the core

to the heart

My eyes melt and ooze from their sockets

As they do, I catch a glimpse of her

behind me as I fall

Then it’s black

Black and hot

I thud to the ground

My corpse crashing

Crunching like a plane of war

Hot and twisted

I die.

The Visit

Darkness large

Shadows fall

He visits

Standing tall

I cringe

Skin crawl

Darkness large

Shadows fall

*

He kissed my mind

with image clear

The one I lust

my sweetheart dear

“You can take her

Now, here.”

He kissed my mind

with image clear

*

I love her

yet I lust

I want her flesh

yet I must

Keep my soul

keep her trust

*

I challenge my dark, mystic guest

“I see your suit –

now show me the rest.”

He pauses.

“I am Prince of Fire –

to see me? You must jest!”

I pressed my cause.

He lifted the hood

with beauteous grace

and within

lay my own face.