Lust and Insanity
Lust and insanity.
The two go hand in hand.
One drives us; the other keeps us there.
Lust burns in us all, tormenting, teasing, and yearning.
Insanity consumes is, tearing, reality lost.
Both, hidden within us.
Deeply pushed back, denial regrets.
The two go hand in hand.
The sin burns the fantasy close at hand.
The psychotic know all too well,
The fine line they have crossed.
The pleasure so great it pushes to the edge.
The insanity takes over, the edge we cross.
Pleasure, regrets.
Lust and insanity.
The two go hand in hand.
this poem here is the very first one I wrote. I think it was about April or June of 1998.
Moth
Moth, butterfly of night.
So pale, so beautiful, drawn towards the light.
Circling around the false pool of hope,
Each falls one by one forever lost,
Never to grace our lives.
Dried husks litter the ground,
Found by the morning sun.
Their mating dance never told.
Forever lost, the tales untold.
Little moth, once pale so beautiful,
Nevermore.
Lovers Embrace
Gentle brush upon soft lips.
Warm embrace.
Heated breath dances along slender neck.
Tantalizing, inviting.
Caresses glide upon fair skin.
Tingles, shivers.
Quickened heartbeats race as one.
Fingers intertwined.
Bodies pressed against each other.
Burning passions smoldering
Flaring loins ablaze.
Gentle brush of lover’s touch brings arousal.
Candle light bathes, moisture-sheened bodies,
Warm golden glow.
Fluid movement, a gasp, a moan.
Hips undulate with passionate rhythm.
Soft cries, whimpers. Slow thrusts,
Passions arising, frenzied kisses, exploring.
Peaking like waves crashing against a shoreline.
Crush of breasts against firm chest.
Explosion! Juices intermingle.
Air fills of cries, passionate groans.
Climaxing as one.
Whispers hoarse, of tender words.
Warm embraces, gentle kisses.
Muscles pulsate, breathing slows.
Intimate gazes between the two.
Gentle caresses upon fair skin.
Daydream eyes slowly close.
Gentle sighs of love unbound.
Kiss of slumber,
Night at a close,
Beckons them seductively,
Into blissful repose.
Sleep well sweet lovers,
Sleep well, goodnight.
CICADAS
The seven years have come. The cicadas are free.
The shrill songs heard.
The shells are discarded, the new bodies shine.
The dance repeated. New life promising.
Soon the song will end.
The cicadas slowly disappear,
One by one, new husks appear.
They burrow down to where cicadas go.
Never to be heard again, for another seven years.
DOM
Air thick with tension. Crack of the whip heard.
Sniveling coward cringes. Kiss her leather-clad feet.
Orders sharply given. Orders quickly obeyed.
He looks longingly up. Mistress scowls down.
Sexual fantasy role-played. Sexual tension high.
Another crack, screams of pain and pleasure heard.
Their perverse passions peaks. Hers of dom. his of sub.
Red welts arise upon his tender backside.
She smirks at the sight.
Pleasure and pain mixed as one.
She the dom. He the sub.
These are the very first poems I've ever written. Later on as you continue, you shall see the downward spiral into
depression due to the fact that I married a very abusive asshole. Remember kiddies, don't marry.
| ENTRANCE | MINDLESS RAMBLINGS | POEMS PAGE ONE | POEMS PAGE TWO |
| POEMS PAGE THREE | POEMS PAGE FOUR | POEMS PAGE FIVE | POEMS PAGE SIX |