Love In A Wall – Laying the line –

“Sex is just another form of talk, where you act the words instead of saying them.”
– D. H. LAWRENCE, Lady Chatterley’s Lover

Sinewy wrists twist the trowel, 
causing it dance on the board 
gathering its share of love
along the way. 

Deftly, quickly, with a flick and a pull, 
a long even line is coaxed 
from the willing load. 

Movements define other movements 
setting up reciprocating pulses
in a syncopation of motion. 

Thick calloused fingers, 
pluck another willing blossom, 
forcing it to mate the bed of passion. 

Dance, flick, pull, mate, dance, flick, pull, mate. 
Tedium, repetition, yet, another brick. 
building an impassioned wall

Following hard after the mated pair, 
a tool pushes in binding them together, 
sealing their union.

Tools are useful said the young man to his master…

 

First published in Opinionsofeye.com

12292010

Holy Sanctum – The Invasion

“Sometimes great power brings out the worst in us, and unfortunately, it isn’t until people are given it that we see the true shades of their character.”
Barbara Kloss, Gaia’s Secret

cuppikacke20

The malevolence is forceful, it pushes on me, 

Malicious hands covering my mouth

Tearing at the clothing of my soul, I feel his hardness

Slamming me against a battered wall of reality

Forcing me, the scarred fingers of feigned goodness,

Pulling back the hair on my sacred ground

His hand on my throat, cutting off life from my holy sanctum

Now His weight is on me, in me, pushing and pulling me

I respond with obedient, corrupted innocence

The shattered remains of my soul speak:

Why have you done this?

Related Post: Endless Sky

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

01292012

Holy Sanctum – The Invasion

“Sometimes great power brings out the worst in us, and unfortunately, it isn’t until people are given it that we see the true shades of their character.”
Barbara Kloss, Gaia’s Secret

cuppikacke20

The malevolence is forceful, it pushes on me, 

Malicious hands covering my mouth

Tearing at the clothing of my soul, I feel his hardness

Slamming me against a battered wall of reality

Forcing me, the scarred fingers of feigned goodness,

Pulling back the hair on my sacred ground

His hand on my throat, cutting off life from my holy sanctum

Now His weight is on me, in me, pushing and pulling me

I respond with obedient, corrupted innocence

The shattered remains of my soul speak:

Why have you done this?

Related Post: Endless Sky

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

01292012