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Lionness

The lionness sits firmly
Atop the roof of her emotions
Neither growling, purring, roaring
Mere observing
The commotion

She feels before she thinks it
Knowing boils are ripe
For lancing
Sat provocatively
Dismissive
Though her eyes
Are keenly dancing.

The lionness, distracted
Fails to see
The wooden arrow
Amidst the trees
Which lay resplendent
Fired from a bow of marrow
Scenting food
On the horizon
She purrs in abstract
Delectation
Forgetting all about
The lancing
About the pain
That lies awaiting…

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Red

Red sky at night
My heart is alight
Memory and wisdom
Perhaps taken flight
To sunnier climes
To balmier days
This imminent weather
Causing minor affray…

I say minor,
I mean major
Blow the trumpet
Till it squeals
That ‘ole devil
Seeps a claw
Despite the fear i conceal
Rips a path
Towards rainbows
And many other things
Unreal.
Works a root
Towards honesty
Whilst clarity
Turns surreal.

Red sky at night
This shepard delights
At the sunshine
On the horizon.
From her ever present light…

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Starry, starry night

My heart is too big
My head seems too small
To think clearly
In such narratives
To avert a painful fall.

Into the wilderness of this vista
Gogh’s stars pail
Against this night
The spirals i consider
Would see weight
Turn into light
And gas turn into metal
And ought turn into might
And locked turn into open
In one bat of
A single eye.

Don’t want to use
Degraded words
So terribly rubbish
And trite
Don’t want your hand
To fit the glove
To mirror
My nascent desires
Don’t want declarations
(So mispent)
Given mainly from
Duty and ought
Just want it all
Purest intent
Heart greedy
Despite being worn.

So run off to the hill tops
Hide deep in the trees
Of this night
Court distraction
Like a long lost lover
Against nature and truth
You may fight
But know that i come clearly
Stand firm
In plain open sight
I may want to be singing good morning
But am ready to whisper goodnight.

So reject me if you are uncertain
Come hither if you might
Love me or leave me
(Your decision)
Either way it will be right…

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Heartscape

This landscape is far from bare
But the wind it whistles through
Whispers secrets
Whispers nothings
Whispers sweetly
Honest truths
Don’t know if this is
Me speaking
Or if these words they
Come from you

Complexity centres
Creates abstraction
To all previous
Mis-sold truths
Graceful artefact
Heart still in tact
Wanting feeling
To know you

Perhaps the clouds they
Do betray me
Giving shadows
To what’s real
Perhaps the glimmers
Of raw sunshine
That you inspire
Give me proof
Where there is none
Make perspective
So selective
Like a dream
But I’m honest
And I’m ready
And I’m willing
To feel free…

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Nostos + algos

There are two poems
I feel unable to write
Some things cut too deep
Paper words often trite
Like capturing a sunset
A moment in time
Skies floating between colours
All opalescent lights
Yet camera only set to
Take pix in black and white.

Can’t write how much I’ll miss you
And expect it to not fall
So far beyond the gravity
Of my feelings
Like a wall
Running deep towards the centre
Of the whole fucking world
And way beyond the skies
Till into myself i curl
And well
And wallow
And inflate – – –
-until pop!
But words, they still seem empty
Against this backdrop.
Which shimmers
Like crushed velvet
Hanging brightly
All lit up
By the the low lights of my orange
By the feeling in my gut.

Vulnerability holds me tightly
Like a lover
Like this fruit
Of my heart
Of my love
Of my innermost
Through and through….

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This is an entry into a creative writing challenge i submitted… I wrote it last night at about 1am just before i fell asleep, raw, unedited, completely hormone (just started bleeding) fuelled… The script was to write about what sexual liberation means to me… It ain’t poetry but its written from the heart and is very much at the basis of much of my poetry… So…

 

 

Sexual liberation, to me is part and parcel of the basic freedom and beauty and power we ALL have deep within us. It’s only a part of it but is evidently, for women especially, quite a controversial part. Women’s identities have been shaped, molded, forced, oppressed and beaten into and out of us since time began it seems sometimes. I’d go so far as to say that we seem to exist (under the ever watchful eyes of patriarchy) as the hopeful reflection of man’s strength and dominance. Physically we are constantly reminded that, as a rule, we, as women are not as physically strong as men and that is used, implicitly and explicitly, as a tool to ‘keep us in check’. We are also told, in too many ways that it is not ‘feminine’ or ‘ womanly’ to aim to be strong, either physically, emotionally, mentally, intellectually and yes, sexually.

Sexually, we are supposed to be ‘demure’. Sexually available, yet at the same time inexperienced and innocent. To make lots of noise to please the man fucking us but please, don’t take that shit too far, i mean don’t actually know what you like and don’t like and PURLEASE don’t fucking ask for it! Haha!

So to me, sexual liberation is about me being in tune with my own body and mind. Understanding that sex, intimacy and love are a part of my journey…to understand myself better? Towards happiness? Enlightenment? Death? Who the fuck knows? I’ll tell you when i gets there! But being in tune starts with oneself. Everyone’s most frequent and intimate lover should be themselves. I engage in self love or masturbating or wanking or whatever you want to call it frequently. Not like its some macho competition; who can make themselves cum the most and the quickest. It’s organic. It’s fluid. It’s sensual. It’s loving and at points its just so raw and cut loose I’m almost embarrassed at the images and little narratives I’ve had running through my head as i indulge myself.

At times in my life i have been fairly promiscuous, and i use that word knowing exactly the implications it holds, but what i mean is that at points i have had many different lovers, most of which have lasted a short period and fucking really enjoyed it. I feel no shame that i have wanted to and needed to experiment with the different sexual dynamics you get with different lovers.

Every now and again, I’ll meet someone special and try to make that work. One on one. Because when my heart is engaged, there is only room for one. At points like this, in monogamous relationships, sexual liberation means that my needs are equally as important as my lover/partner’s. That me cumming regularly is as important as him cumming too. That if i am not in the mood, that will just be accepted and i am liberated enough to be honest about that and not just fuck for the sake of trying to keep a man. It means me being exited at the potential that true, deep intimacy can give to explore both mine and my boymanloverfriend’s fantasies, and be really open and honest and down right dirty at points. Cos I’m not trying to pretend I’m some kinda angel. Some innocent wee virgin waiting to be shown the way. I am an autonomous, experienced and direct woman, both in life in general as well as in more intimate spheres…

So, to recap, sexual liberation to me means a) not feeling the need to be in a relationship to be sexually active. b) when i am in a relationship, feeling comfortable enough to be honest about my desires and clear about my boundaries. c) consistently developing and maintaining a good connection to my own body…cos it is MY body, no fucker elses 🙂 x

Autumn too will fall…image

I gets quite nostalgic
At this time of year
As the leaves hum a rustle
And the nights
Draw in near.
Summer it does fade
As greens retreat.
Crispy, spiral
Rusty, bloodlike
Sapped and withered
Disappear.

Death is looming
Singing softly
Silhouetted
Harbours fear.
Against resplendance
Against jouissance
Against nature?
But she steers.
In fecundity
In due prosper
In osmosis
Through the tears.
I see rainbows
I see rivers
I feel cuspage
Resonant, clear.

Come hither lover
Feel my twilight
Feel my death grip
Hold me dear.
Rebirth awaits you
In the next life
Not too far now
Completion near…