Cruel – My body wears her marks –

 “People speak sometimes about the “bestial” cruelty of man, but that is terribly unjust and offensive to beasts, no animal could ever be so cruel as a man, so artfully, so artistically cruel.” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky
“True beauty is something that attacks, overpowers, robs, and finally destroys.”
Yukio Mishima
 
ladyjordison
Cruel her whips of love,
Holding hands in chains
Giving a slap and shove
Cruel her feet lead away
Left with a subtle kiss
Leather and studded sway
Cruel her hands choke and rub
Enduring eager strokes
With angry slick gloves
Cruel her wet licks on thighs
Stains of lips and teeth
Bring to head deep sighs
Cruel the game she plays
In the morning lights glow
Tortured memories remain
First published in Opinionsofeye.com
05192013
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Captured –

I like to include a woman’s perspective on the subject matters addressed in this blog, and in light of this consideration I give you this entry composed by Jennifer Hester and published in the Posse’s Lair, enjoy!

She wrote
not about the color
of his eyes
The weight of his stare
pushed her back
pressing her will
against the sheets
her eyes crushed close
an attempt to
obliterate the heat

She wrote
not about his lips
the way they
pretended
to hold some shy secret
brushing temptation
pulling back evoking her appetite
she believed starvation
would eat her alive

She wrote
not about his lips
the way they
pretended
to hold some shy secret
brushing temptation
pulling back
evoking her appetite
she believed starvation
would eat her alive

She wrote
not about the battles they repeated
with wet skin
fire
fingers clasped and limbs
entwined
Their warrior cries and
hushed urgings
the inevitability of death
a quiet relief that held
only until
war was incited once more
What she did write
the sadness
the annihilation of reason
that completely devoured her head
How unreasonably
her ego
stood down
refusing to protect her
banished to the emotional
unable to
talk herself out of his charms
I suppose this is the reason
she didn’t want to write
*

Also published in Opinionsofeye.com

02142013

Hooked

 “Assure a man that he has a soul and then frighten him with old wives’ tales as to what is to become of him afterward, and you have hooked a fish, a mental slave.”
– Theodore Dreiser

The following is a poem from an exceptionally talented new friend, Arne Tornek. Enjoy.



 
fantasygoth
The hook slicks in.
How easily she snags.
How tightly she tugs.
 
She knows no surrender.
Long in exile, she returns,
To lead you to forgotten rooms.
 
In a careless moment
She sucks the tongue from your mouth.
Coils it round your demon need,
Slips it back behind your lips.
 
You swallow her hard.
Scornfully, she sniggers at you.
Knows that you can’t do without her,
In spite of your painstaking
Hopeless attempts.
 
She washes over your mind like an old friend,
With the comforting allure of a new lover.
And she’s back with her pedicure
In the ring of your desires;
Your powerless soul at prayer
Under the Gothic arch of her painted foot.

01312012

The Music – Music brings a release

 “Without music, life would be a mistake.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols

I turned the music on today.

I let the pain work its way out and through
my heart to my eyes,
welling up with watery release

I turned the music on today.
I let the tears come rolling on in and down
my face to my lips,
tasting my salty sorrow.

I turned the music on today.
I felt all of it rolling around and across
I let myself go
from my life in this dark room.

I turned the music on today… 

Also published in: Broowaha

12062011 



My Girl Manny Quinn

“Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.” – Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story
thestuffispoison
Pressing my lips to yours…the coolness soon gone with hardened kisses. Inanimate style, making me hard. My hands trace over your glossy skin, swollen to meet my design. My fingers skip across your seams, more oil makes it easy. I carry you to the room, your long hair falling across cheeks blushed with my paint. I fall on you with unrestrained fervor, wild horses in my blood. Turning the music up loud, and dimming the lights enough to cover your dead eyes, I leave you there, lying still in my bed. Taking enough time to adjust the amount of blood in my alcohol, I come back to you. It never matters how long, still you hold that position for me. Never being able to scream means you can’t moan your pleasure over my illegal intrusions. I love you my sweet. I think tonight I’ll make you a blonde, and tomorrow a brunette. Then, I’ll tie your stiff arms behind you and in my final thrust, I’ll feel your soul drain and you’ll lie limp in my arms. My tears wet your flattened breasts, your misshapenhead makes your eyes point in crazy directions. You are my everything, you never leave, you never complain, you never reject me, your are mine and I love you, Manny Quinn

(’tis all in jest my faithful readers)

05052013 

Stray Dog

“There is nothing like wounded affection for giving poignancy to anger.”
Elizabeth Gaskell, Wives and Daughters 

“On the lips of my lover, lies a betrayal so near

Hearing words of hate, her lips rape my ear
If it came from my enemy, this trouble I could bear
I would understand, my mind made aware
But the kiss that offends, with violence brings a tear
Comes on the lips of my lover, our love a lethal snare”
– DMW

It was you, my closest friend. All my secrets I held out for you to know, believing your promise of fidelity, but, you have betrayed me. Quickly love turns to anger, the jump is not that far. Passion that today ignites my soul with pleasure indescribable, tomorrow burns me to the ground with anger that refuses satisfaction. Using my love as a means to extract from me the duty of provision, now, you bring destruction with your kiss. I had a stray dog that I couldn’t keep. I threw stones at it with tears in my eyes. The dog didn’t understand my stones were of love, we couldn’t be together, so I had to make it leave or we both would suffer. I hurling these stones again at one who I loved so deep. Watching her leave, with tears in my eyes, why doesn‘t she understand it was her errant Judas kiss that birthed this painful moment.