I gave you distance between
her neck
and her navel
to make you recount
the distance
between stars
the only way to travel
even such unfathomable distances
is to slow down
and savor
the journey
You pressed a groove into my heart
the depth of a canyon
so much so,
every woman’s name
i speak
returns an echo
of you
I do my crackfiend dance
get on my knees and beg
you got the thunder
you got the thunder
my storm within
a storm
my refuge
from the norm
my haven away from everything decent
in this world
you are chaotic
neurotic
and nasty as you wanna be
volatile like
skulls and crossbones
deeper than baritones
your love is like
like riding the rapids
like walking a tightrope with no
safety net
like russian roulette
and yet
submissive like
take me if you dare
if you dare
Haven was previously published in ‘A Goddess Discovered and Other Erotic Tales, and featured at the 2010 Seattle Erotic Art Festival
Mornings like this
i dive into you
fingers probing
your ebony hair
pausing along the sexy winding
curves of your ear
winding the sacred trail
down along your shoulder
As you lie sleeping
I am magellan
&
You are new country
What other woman would be haunted by
the ‘L’ in Drake’s equation?
How many civilizations
have come and gone
leaving behind nothing more
than cosmic dust & vibrations
to say we were here —
we loved,
we mattered
And when my finger slides gently underneath
the silk strap on your shoulder
and you drop your inhibitions to the floor
like the useless things they are
we will turn on the lights this last time
make love like a supernova
and every living creature
in the universe
will know my name
I just finished reading Jill Alexander Essbaum’s book of poetry, ‘Harlot‘. Â It is full of delicious wicked poems, and If you’ve ever read her poetry, you know just what I mean…this is definitely a book to be savored. She has a way with words–with language that is beautiful, surprising, profane and profound all at the same time.
Here is her poem Whoreheart, reprinted with her kind permission:
——————————————
I am the bridge you dare not cross.
An ice-floe that won’t be defrosted.
A signpost in your dense, damp woods.
The serrated flower of the snakeroot.
A doe amid the beeweed.
And the rocks in the field hurt my feelings.
And I’m the spendthrift wench in debtor’s jail.
The wound that won’t quite heal.
That little Judas sitting on your shoulder.
The irregular bread of a mendicant’s supper.
A disastrous truth told in candor.
I’m the milksap of the oleander.
And mine are the cyanide sockets of almonds.
I’m the kink in the appleworm, the dolmen

that entombs you. I am not safe nor sorry.

Swollen Moses, am I your darling? I shall part

like a red and willing sea. And do I simile?

Take of your metaphor and face me.
And I am the ocean in which you’ll drown.

Abundantly black, I yawn and I drawl.

I’m calm but for aggregate, gathering storms.

And I swarm your bed like a charm

of fiend finches. And last night I rained inches,
and hours. And I am the pitcher
plant’s practical talent. The flytrap, the pie plate,
the oblate, the shrew. The mistake you made
too late to undo. The jackscrew to your threaded rod.
A fraud. I’m the pussycat of need. Your defeat. Your pall.
And I loom for you like a terrible end.
And I am not your friend.
We take this
vile, vulgar
temporal existence
and somehow make it
beautiful
we make
bodily fluids
into summer rain
sloppy wet kisses
into vintage wine
pressure & pain
into screams
of passion
and as time’s illusion
bends and breaks
us all
into a million little pieces
with each stroke
i serenade the universe
in praise
of this gift
Everything that ever was,
Is.
So despite the 3am
crying babies
the 5 am train
that rattles the window sill
and shakes our dreams
to dust
Somewhere
in a parallel universe
you are here
and I am there
pulling those sexy pink panties
off
with my teeth.
We are seven-
teen
all over again
with tongues
and libidos
like a thunderstorm
we are time travelers
living
loving
dying
fucking our way
across the universe
Healthy, wholesome and affordable cooking for the heart and soul.
Erotic Fiction
Writer, Poet (Occasionally), Kinky Geek, and lover of Oscar Wilde (Not literally, obviously, that would be weird...)
Media professional
A blog about love or lack thereof
There is freedom in anonymity...
do or do not, there is no try
Hooked on Versatility..... j9epoetry@hotmail.co.uk
This WordPress.com site is the cat’s pajamas
A Portal of Self Discovery
Poetic musings
word flow
Strumentisti di Parole/Musicians of words
Real Women Running from Idiots!
The greatest WordPress.com site in all the land!
& Metaphors
Lyrically penetrated by Passion's pen....
Exploring the world of erotica with an open mind, through poetry, story telling and more.
Read, enjoy, come.