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After his Image

~ Mostly philosophical musings after religion and politics

After his Image

Tag Archives: sex

Prodigal

23 Sunday Jun 2013

Posted by myrthryn in Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Apocalypse, comet, death, love, Poem, Poetry, Religion, sex

A stumbling block, all her own,
tumbling towards rock bottom,
yet home, in way of head o’er heels,
the only place for two left feet, named evil and sinister,
to dance the night away,
her time in the spotlight,
perhaps even another prodigal path,
ultimately to bid that final farewell
and rest among stardom.
Her ashes to be expelled by tears
and thunders of a father raped about
in that same vicious circle of life,
destruction and chaos.

There was an eternal feast.
She had fetched her pail of ice water
as ointment to wash her feet
and to rinse the sweat from her brow into wine
in this ritual of holiness.

The draw was irresistible
with forces greater than good
  stronger than evil,
  more timeless than love
with her depths warming from frigid void
to fires of fulfillment.

Those last miles bear stretch marks to forever,
like a pot never boiling with a stare.
Still, like a Zen master she danced
through his rock garden and past
the flicker-red of lamppost

onto the porch, by the door
with its dew-moist blue mat,
bidding “Welcome” to night travelers,
though off limits to wayward sisters.

“Perhaps this once,” she thought.
She shifted her weight
to stumble that last time.

Father mourned
glorious rage.
All of men beheld her beauty
with awe.

The quickening tremors of the land
were fired from her mistake;
the failing hearts of men to break
in falling reprimand.

(written for DversePoets, with Kelvin prompting us to use idioms)

(note: clues to the meaning are in the tags, if one was inclined to look)

Through a Mirage Darkly

11 Thursday Apr 2013

Posted by myrthryn in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Dreams, fantasy, love, lust, Poem, Poetry, reality, relationships, sex

The wishes come at night, it seems
that love can only feast from dreams
and lust is drawn as red bouquet
in blushing shades for petals stray
to form in fingered lines from foot
up soothing curves to lips’ dessert,
strawberry whispers breathed about
in butterscotch displays without
distractions, keeping love in play
til morning brings uncolored day.

Pax Nocturnal

14 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by myrthryn in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

demons, devil, Dreams, love, lust, nightmares, Poem, Poetry, satan, sex, sleep

Mid-dream strangling,
creasing cotton wake,
unpillowed corona,
eclipsing red-tailed suits,
shadows spiraling behind,
Eyes swallow from my feet,
Moonlit face with brimstone meet.

“My Love,” he says, “please make your choice.
My Kingdom waits upon your voice.
Hold out your hand, give me your will,
Desire demand, you’ll have your fill.
And if you’re slaked not by my lust,
my minions fill, with your disgust.
Undying love, Eternal knows,
I’ll bear thee higher than my ho’s.
Remember Love, when all love fails
that Lust remains to whisp your sails
across the pale and stormless sea
into my arms eternally.”

Shut-ups and fingers
ain’t got nothing
to a twelve gauge
between the eyes,
fired with laughter,
fading away

to a peaceful sleep,
for now.

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