Counting down to petit mort inside an hour glass

Art & Erotic Art, Erotic Poetry, Weird Poetry

*** Contains erotic imagery. Perhaps skip this if that offends. This harkens to the Lustful Empress of yesteryear…. ***


From head

To hip

To teeny tiny toe

Time twists and slithers

Down the sides and surfaces

Of privately possessed

Minutes and seconds

And sweetly salacious hours

As fingers dance

And body sings

Pleasure rippling

Deconstructing the bones

Of an arching frame

In a moment of death

Steeped in moonheld moans




*** Spring makes me slightly more MORE… sometimes. ***

*** And it is reuniting me with my love of lingerie. All women (and men… and whoever else… yolo) should get some… and wear it every day… under your regular clothes… hehe…. ❤🌷 ***

Cloud Book

Erotic Poetry, Weird Poetry

We penned and painted entire h’oevres

In the full deep dome-unencumbered sky

With our mingled precipitation

And fingers wrapped in strands of diluted ochre and white titanium cloud.

We did this in split seconds and exhaled eternities,

Then we scrawled red sunsets

Into the virgin sheets blanketing the peaks and valleys below us —

And onto that one lonely little (enormous) mountain top —

As our restless legs and curling/uncurling toes

Twisted verse and vision into each other’s flesh.




Photo cred: Goooooooooooooooooogle

Onomatopoeia… or… “UNF”

Erotic Poetry

i love it when our words fuck each other

when our words break down into glottal stops, gutteral howls, and sharp inhaled breaths

for days and days and days and days, with no end in sight

just one juice-soaked word after another out of you and thrusted into me

pushing my limits and extracting my filthiest fucking phrases

like shimmering strings of salacious secrets that you can wrap at first delicately… then forcefully… around my throat

yeah… you already knew i liked that

i’m sure you could tell from the bruising i wear like necklaces

and the way my eyes follow anyone with strong masculine hands

your slippery tongue and dirty lip-licking mouth lubricate my own

as you rasp your need into my ear, into the bowl of lust overflowing from my insides

jesus fuuuhhh… you always know how to take my words and feed them back to me,

my own utterings dripping out onto my tongue in phonemic moans and end-punctuated groans

if you keep wording me like this

i might drown you in wholly capitalized sentences and an obnoxious array of exclamation points

right before the denouement of our climax

and with our smut-soaked sentence-making we will redefine


with sounds that just can’t be spelled




***Feeling animal today….***

Succumbing on a Loveseat

Erotic Poetry

I was lounging on the wicker loveseat on my balcony

Last evening

Watching the sky bluepurplepinken

After the sun had dropped his head to slumber beneath the horizon.

An airplane passed overhead,

The roar of the engine momentarily cancelling out the raucous rush of vehicles on the highway below.

I ran my bare foot along the contour of a waxy canna lily leaf,

Closing my eyes to savour the cool sensation upon my skin and across the tips of my red-painted toes.

It made me summon you,

Especially your lips, your tongue, your teeth

Along the edges of my foot

And the edges of where my self-control succumbs to the complete retirement of self

Then I imagined your hand

Surging up the length of my thigh,

And I turned my head to bite the pillow.




***Mmm… lushness is running up my fevered limbs days and days after this reverie….***


Erotic Poetry

I want to bleed into your veins

And be the writhing in your body

As you arch your back

And leave your bones.

I want to breathe into your lungs

And become the air that escapes

When you call out

For me

From the deep of the dream void.

I want to be the moan upon your eros-kissed lips

As you reach out through the gloom

To find me there

Standing behind the veil

That only seems like separation.

I want to be the abandon in your fevered eyes,

And the tongue-lash across your sweet throbbing throat,

As you run your fingers through my hair

And through the phrases caught in my webbed thoughts.

I want to be the claw and nail

That sinks into your skin

As you roll your eyes

Towards our burning heaven.




Milk Oolong Tea

Erotic Poetry

Smooth (hands running up your body, rolling over your heaving ribs, the skin of your neck right below your left ear)

Floral (the scent of your love on my upper lip, on my fingers, on my everything, hanging on the air like a canopy of bruised roses)

Steaming (it’s 2:11 a.m. and no one else is awake except for us and only I get to hear you moan)

Creamy (the secrets between your thighs spilling over, pouring out, drenching me in the privateness of you)

Milk (sip)

Oolong (sip)

Tea (swallow)




Masturbatory Poetry

Erotic Poetry, Weird Poetry

Writing a poem

By oneself

For oneself

Is like masturbating

Without a need for any external stimuli

Or inspiration.

It just feels good

So you do it.

And you draw your desires out

From the deep deep inside.



Writing a poem

Inspired by someone else

Is like masturbating to…

Someone else.

The external stimuli drives

The force of creation

And lust.

You do it to conjure… something


A moment…

An hour…

An eternity…

Of yowling climaxes

And of licking nectared lamentations

Off a plate of craving.

It’s unbearable.



Writing masturbation


That is like poeming the living hell

Out of your pen

Then burning it

Along with the parchment it came onto,

Yet leaving no trace

But spilled and sprayed ink

Scraps of scorched paper

And walls dripping in…





Anyone else need a joint?

Splendors in the Grass

Erotic Poetry

I’ll never forget

How he husked my top from my body

And lay me down to languish

In the throes

Of something ineffable.

He slithered




The length of me

As if I were a wide open prairie

As the gloaming lifts

At the break of day.

I felt a shiver in my teeth

And in my bones

And in my every hair follicle

But it started in a place

Where his fingers had disappeared

And I spat unspeakable words

Into the grass.




Earth Lover

Erotic Poetry, Weird Poetry

I can see the inaudible breathing of the Earth,

The ground rippling with slow rapid movement,

Birthing forth blades of grass

And fractaled purple blooms,

As I wrap my arms about your heaving mossy expanse.

With ear pressed to the vibrating ground,

And lips embracing the silty loam

Ensconcing my face,

I watch the persnickety red squirrels frolic

And fight for territory

As sunlight,

Like warm breath,

Whispers at my temple,

Licks me from shoulder to shoulder,

And tickles me

From spine to painted toe.

I feel my mind melding

With your organic sentience

And know that though I can’t hear

The chirps and howls of your sacred voice

Or look into your omniscient cloudscaped eyes,

That watch from beyond and within

The domed-firmament,

I feel you all around me

As I sink into your soil

And become the biomass

That ushers forth

All the new and reborn life

That you hold in store.