The Art of Seduction


In the dark,
to be aroused slowly by soft hands,
caressing lips on curves
delicate,
like fornicating streams.

I slept in nothing
but black lace underwear
with golden butterflies
staggering and waltzing round,
embroidered on my arithmetic,
late last night
which I never do,
usually trusting not even my
lonely howl of a room enough
not to take advantage,
but the sweat did drip down heavy,
panting precisely,
ticking clocks towards
4am in these sensory days,
so I fell back to raptured
nakedness,
almost,
bare skin on soft fleece,
supple pillows
brush against nipples,
tender creative showered down
by bedframes,
more so than
human spiders that spat
their egos out,
crashing dishes down
on my bleeding head
with angered words and violence.

I betrayed the coffin rites and undertaker professions,
death would not take us tonight to fields of poppies,
hell bent razors,
night suicides,
bruised hips,
hating ourselves for stretch marks or bad posture,
cough syrup overdoses,
throwing up liquor and excuses,
lies and apathy,
hatred of the things you cannot understand,
beatings and rapes in the streets
that no one seemed to see,
no. not today, my dear.

Instead I winked at her from across a crowded bar,
her blazing fire hair,
eyeliner drenched euphoria,
tight lips until she smiled and
glowed from deep underneath
like trees sensing the spring.
I slowed time down with a wicked whisper
to the north star and sunset horizons,
craving moments to unearth her magic from within,
kisses on the mouth
that led to her knees
buckling,
moans oozing
out of her thirsty throat periphery,
legs quivering in high heals,
fists beating out the passion
on the walls of all the diners across heartbreak america,
coffee shops in Brooklyn,
movie theatres with sticky floors,
in the back seats of cars,
down dank drafty alley ways,
between lines of prose and erectile dysfunctions,
my hands between her thighs,
counting her days till dawning,
nails dug into my back deep
until her kingdoms come,
the ice melts,
the queen burns and
transforms into the mused witch
of sex and manifesto,
painted upon me in ecstasy given.

The Ace of Cups
spills forth,
staggering to the center
of her being and opening upward
with electrics and expressions,
hierophants of desire
and jouissance,
deliverance in artful bodies wrapped
round and through each other,
sighs and intertwining,
melodies inhabiting the art of seduction.
Ah and alas,
there twas nothing
so vibrant,
teasing and pleasing,
momentum rising,
kundalini lifting and blushing,
vipers licking and voodoo pulses,
scents and sensual,
the erotic
made spiritual,
bliss incarnate,
oh god,
don’t stop,
harder,
deeper,
keep going,
oh god,
oh god,
oh god,
fuck yes,
amen.

I Painted You


I painted you red
and purple twisted reverence
on walls,
dimly lit bathroom stalls,
kitchenettes with twittering birds,
without any questions as to why
or answers really,
just a deep
burning pain
and a head cough.

Yes,
of course deary,
there were always
scars to talk of,
fire licking,
dripping
from my fingerprints
while I moved slowly,
curved and caressed
water and earth,
never to break,
just to be
unbound,
frothing on the
inner thighs of the sea.

Oh my gentle mistresses and misters,
have no hurtful worries
for your pain
and furry
subsides with
the tides and
churnings of
stomachs,
breaths deep and sensual,
penetrating
heavy burdens
like snow melting
on the tongue,
slipping subtle down the throat,
thrusting within
till the moon shines,
the raven cries,
tantric whispers in ears,
hairs stand to attention,
beats harkened
to the dawn
as if we would
never be seen again
through the serpent’s
almighty squinting eye.

Alice Watches


I guess you
didnt see alice
watching you,
like pictures
playing,
dolls dancing
round,
speaking in
sounds,
in my head
I saw you,
sensed your
waves and
deeds done
over sneaky smiles,
twitching eyes,
closing doors
quickly,
pacing lines,
walls smoothly
shutting down
on themselves.

I looked out windows
to forget
sad nuances,
maybe days
or minutes
of ceiling fan turnings over
hazy rapes
on carpeted bedroom floors,
razor blades,
molestations on cruel couches with TVs blaring
war re-runs,
callous thrusts on hard cement
driveways without words,
violations in truck beds,
sadistic cornerings against sleazy offices walls,
closet shamings,
between singing
and crying howls for mercy
though he would never listen,
between humiliations
and manipulation nails,
phone call lies
and degradations,
you are silly,
you are stupid,
you are dumb,
and why cant you
see how wrong you are?

I ate a hole in
my head to
shut you out,
over and over,
again today
and every day,
sometimes now,
the way you made
me feel comes
back to me
as a flash of thunder,
ricocheting off my bones,
thumping like a swamp
inside my skull, 
a scream,
and I crawl,
slimy to self-hatred,
that 17 year old girl
loving a tyrant
just across the
sun-harsh way.

And then I shake
awake again.
Ah!
to breathe
and stumble
out,
a dragoned
witch-
haunted,
but in the lovely moonlight,
I was the bringer
of my own passion,
so softly touching
and healing myself
by liquid fingers,
ever just so,
oh,
sultry vibrations
moved and pulsed
the body
upward to
divinity in
ecstasy, always.
Enlightened pleasure
is deeper and moaning,
heavy sweeter,
mmm,
oh,
fuck yes,
please.
Awake now,
I see.
Your cruelty has no
power over me now. 

The Breathing Habits of Dragons


Insides electric,
I was wild within and
without your permission,
dragon head leaping
forth from my ravenous mouth
like smoke does
when it’s lusting onward,
passion heaving and breathing,
sizzling through
my aching
dancing
magic,
deep throughout me
until I’m drenched in
senses and sexual embers
that ooze and surge inward,
then seep and etch outward
onto your sultry skin,
bold bodies intoxicate,
intertwine in raunchy reveries,
intersect
into the streams,
turning to erotic rivers,
deep under the oceans,
swiftly upwards to the stars that cross the
universe spaces and expand
like hallelujahs,
exaltations to the ethers
of grand sex sounds,
rhetorical orgasms,
drunken stupors,
neurotic heretic angels rejoicing,
mistletoe bastards
waving insults and fake promises,
caffeine headaches
adding to my already throbbing,
pounding thrusting fornicating intuition
that leaves me silent,
mouth shut quiet in the daytime,
just my raven eyes staring into your head,
the sweet surrendering alchemy of your chemistry,
that subtle voodoo tells me in whispers,
haunts my hallowed dreams with screaming,
much more than I ever wanted to know,
and so forth……

Thus I gave in,
time and bruised
soul time again,
with a whimper
to the west
and time travel
taken into
account what with the
tempest traffic sirens and patterns
and the kinky freakshow weather,
handcuffed still to the headboard.

I laughed up
hurricanes,
rafters shaking,
quaking in
sensual serenity,
making love to
the moment,
moaning low,
sighs quicken
the beating heart
and I reclaim my
name and nature
in the eye of the storm.

I Knelt Down


I knelt down
in reverence
to the river,
tender kisses
on the curves
of her
ebbs and flows.

It was heartbreaking though,
to watch
bodies and spirits,
beat out
our own traumas
on each other’s bones,
patterns repeating
their virus glitches,
malicious verbage
and cruel bloodied marks,
profane hypocrites
reciting sacred odes
yet spitting sadistic
eulogies during
birthing rites.
Gasp.
Panic.
Couldn’t bare the sight of it,
no honey, Im sorry but Ive just already
wept so much today.

Mmm breath,
slow down now,
hush the rough,
halt the constant
proving of fancy fucking,
predictable games and
classes in cool
with their
tight-assed smiles,
sad-eyed
stupid smoker habits,
nodding heads at all the right shoes
and accessories,
laughing at bad jokes
that no one in the room even understands.

Instead my dear,
explore the sensuality
of each space
between single notes
in cut times
and quickened heartbeats,
pulses throbbing in sync,
soaking pussies,
erect nipples,
quick sighs,
sarcastic rhymes,
Kama Sutra salutations,
in graveyards,
over mountaintops,
between soft thighs,
lips supple and
waiting,
give rest
and sanctuary from the
world’s harsh turnings,
violent lashings out
of power
lust media
rapes,
wrath iron
goblets,
suckled pigs
of state and gold.
Enough.
They cease to rule
once you choose
to be free
of that drenched
machine
dripping poisoned
shaped nails,
greed faking happy,
lust faking love,
and oh how power means
fucking nothing but
a bad tagline wrapped in tinsel.

So I lifted up my
third eye high
and slept low
and in
heavy
pleasure
with the moon
moaning ecstasy
into the night,
then snuggled down deep
into the ocean,
re-learning to breathe.