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Where's the Sun?

entry picture

Where’s The Sun?

I used to orgasm imagining i was running to-

The sun.

To reach climax for the relief was spiritual

Sex for me has remained-

Emotional.

Now it’s perverse and sexual.

So, I hide inside-

The dark of the night

And only come out when the moon says

You’re safe now.

He has my best interests in his heart filled with craters

Other women scarred with play...

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Bipolarfire flesh love passion obsessionLiving after traumaself lovesexuality

Introduction to Love

My love for you wells up from

Within

A feeling indescript

A warmth rising from the heart

A rush of oxytocin through the

Veins

Immediate and pressing

Without urgency or smothering

Felt from my legs to my

Head

And in every chakra the yoga-doers tell us of

From the crown above my head

To the root they speak of in awkward Puritanical tones

Tones we do not need, m...

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lovelove makingsexsexualityspirituality

Good Girl

Good girl
Those words move me
Quivering to my core
Sparks the embers in my cheeks
So many connotations
A thank you for listening
To your commands
A unique expression of adoration
As well as appetition
An ‘it’s going to be ok’
Psychedelic to my anxieties
Caress my curves
Trace the imprints you leave
On my soul
On my skin
Please, tell me again
I want to be your
Good girl

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a more romantic love than i've ever knownbdsmi love using homonymslovelove makingLoverssexsexualitytrust

Sex Overlooking The Sunset

It was surprising that after work, on Thursday,

she wanted to meet and share her bed with a man, again.

Maybe men, even, she thought, suddenly indecisive and guilty,

but for society, men, peers, their judgment, their pursed lips and nods of disapproval.

Now that she was almost home, her fireplace and Scotch seemed dearer, as usual;

the icy blanket of her acceptance of undesired celi...

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agealienationbiasdivorcefamilyintimacylibidolifelonelinesslovemaking lovenightoldprejudicesexsexualityshamesocietysunset

Those Paintbrush Women

I think I’m addicted to acting the way,

Behaving the way,

I feel:

Shit.

No, I never meant to-

I-

No, I never intended to-

I-

didn’t set out to break your heart

I think that it came naturally to me...

Snapping those heart strings it’s what

I-

It’s what I’ve always done best.

Affection is a weapon they say,

Charm is a murderer they say,

The blood you lose...

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accidentgenderharmheartbreakhunterinequalitypainrelationshipsexsexuality

Intense

Standing close behind
She shudders in anticipation
For his commanding touch; but
He denies her such satisfaction
Only applying goosebumps to her skin
His hot breath teases increasing her adrenaline
Fingers hooking the straps of her top
Pulling over those soft shoulders
Drawing down ever slowly like molasses 
Cascading over skin on winter morning
The cloth rolls over nipples perked
As ...

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poetrysexualityuink

A Crying Shame

entry picture

 

Shame - the greatest shambles; a sham

sex and guilt, beauty and modesty; molest

pitted in the stomach like acid,

spat swallowed pity, feeding starvation, an unquenchable famish, unsensibly sore

malnourished habits die hard, and lonely, resentfully

twisting and turning and diving, deprived

 

Lies for eyes, for ears and the nose; twitch

flies on the flesh of ...

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HumanityManchesterNaturePoetrySexualityShame

Curioser and Curioser

as the dew dropped tulip two-steps over my tongue

so a pubic slaughter of moonbeams and drag queens

leaves so little space in-between the longing

hung, low slung, below the eaves of this curious abode

 

where pregnant questions await the gaunt relief

of a crucified thief who has chosen his flavour

so sure the house has fallen on the queen of the east

love thy nei...

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abstractagingmemorysexuality

Headshot - OpenMind LGBT Special piece

A cum stained victory for the avant-garde,
throw away your cameras
and embrace the lens of the soul.

Prettiness does not define talent.
How can a stoic face define the myriad of human emotions?
A lifeless motif of the status-ho.

Individuality seeps like semen upon a blood stained carcass.
Trickles of truth, like tears upon a false-face.
One cannot spell life without lie...

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Avant-GardeBidamanLGBTOpenMindSexuality

Traume

Surprised how slim you looked, how young,

red cotton briefs that made you look like Sybil Starr,

my room the way it was, the bed half-broken.

I lay, my body rhymed, at last, with yours,

 

though clothed: the same smooth legs,

same swelling breasts, the same receiving void

between the legs, the origin of worlds,

here, at the end, yours given, mine achieved.

 

...

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bloody depressingdeathgenderpoetrysexuality

NSFW

A poem I did for the first time at Jibba Jabba in Newcastle yesterday night. I was a little nervous of doing it given the subject matter, but it seemed to go down quite well.

 

She’s that girl in every film you’ve seen,
hair tied up and eyes cast down,
books held to her chest, looking geeky-serene,
the skin above her glasses wrinkling into a frown

as she sucks nothing but her...

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gendersexualitytransgressive poetry

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