lady of the plains

Come, be the architect of my desire

persuade your luscious land to succour me.

Mould rock and blood and bone and flesh and earth

and fashion passion from the worthy clay.

Come, be my guide across your sculpted form

guide my hands across your open fields.

My fingers shall palpate your subtle hills

and journey deep within your dark ravines.

Come, eat the soul of me and sup my wine

the power of consuming flesh and blood

I offer no religious sacrifice

to match this dark and satisfying urge

I harden in your gentle rolling hands

I soften in the aftermath of joy

I fold you in my arms, these loving bands,

I bind you in the slowly darkening day.

inspired by the work of Craig Tracy

Old Love Renewed

I once sucked upon your cherry nipples

And kissed the silky skin between your thighs

I once felt you quiver at my fingers' touch

Treasured the subtle whisper of your sighs

I once cajoled the smallest flame within you

I once drew passion to your glistening lips

I used my testing tongue to sing you

Spiralling out upon waves salty tips

Can we find once again the heat of passion?

Can we once more swim out in fiery seas?

For I would love again in some strange fashion

Though I am old with aching arms and knees.

dying for a kiss

this last kiss

for a moment

has us bound

a silver saliva chain

stretching from your lip to mine

your earlier suspicion

has succumbed

to the gentle coaxing

of my would-be whispered words

my lip brushing your velvet ear

your wine breath

my tongue

we digest the moment

figuring its resonance

weighing the power of our feelings

anatomical responses

blood flushing

into pale places

reddening faces

heating fluids

you dissolve a little

as I brush the thread aside

feeling the strand across the back

of my hand

then our fingertips touch

sense the trace of moisture

before once again

we land soft wet lips

on each other's

open mouths

and beneath the softness

the hard edge of teeth and jaw and bone

of hunting

of eating

of chase

of resolution

this grimy kiss

asks and answers

its one question

who are you?

and why are you so separate from me?

that says

in our coming together

we must

come apart

that in our longing

we must live without

that as it is born

because it is born

so it must die

but not yet

not yet 

let me yet feel

once more

the lithe live flesh

moving muscles

over my skin

seeking the pleasure

that it alone provides

to the book lover, a response

you love books

you tell me

the feel of them

the smell of them

the holding of them

in your hands

the stories they tell

yet

although I have 

a spine

for you to run your fingers down

although I would 

whisper my passion into your ticklish ears

and although I have

pictures to paint in your mind's eye

and although I would

hold you between covers

caress the creamy 

vellum of your skin

between clean white sheets

although I would draw you in

on long winter nights

make love to you by firelight

or by summer moonlight

I would ignite you

bite you

tease you

touch you

stroke you

make you laugh

make you cry

make you yearn 

for my longing arms

for the warmth of my strong thigh

the soft beat 

from the taut drum

of my chest

although I would

be the author of our lives together

and you my heroine

wrapped in a golden shawl

windswept and wild

with a diamond light in her eye

brought to singing life 

with my tender pen

despite all this

you have eyes

only for another fiction

julia

I have a hard time

containing

my feelings for you

julia

for they are

as liquid as night

as ferocious as hunger

as dark as revenge

as cheap as choking

they are the colour 

of the red wine stains

on your inner lip

they smell of excess

and taste of dawn

they are wrapped 

in last year's paper

and still 

somehow

draw last year's tears

they threaten

and cajole

and generally

fuck about

with my

peace of mind

so I will burn

these feelings

julia

and toss the pasty ashes

into the river

where we stood

on the bridge

and you

spat my longing

back at me

julia

and then 

walked away 

laughing

Knight visitor

There is thunder in the air tonight

and I have written all night long

to reach you.

For I have scaled this tower

and am the silhouette

against the curtains.

I have groped my way

in the darkness

to find your bed.

Do you see the blood

pouring from my wounds?

How the thorns scratched.

Do you see the moonlight

shining on my naked skin?

My armour lost.

Do you feel the subtle chill

as the bedclothes lift

from your sleeping body?

I stand here

and place your cold hand on me –

feel the instinctive gripping

like an infant’s fingers

round an adult thumb.

Then my thumb

parts your lips –

the hard-edged teeth,

the soft tongue,

the slow silent

sucking of the lips;

hot, wet.

These calloused

bloodstained

hands

open the book of you,

unfold you like a map,

fingers navigating the contours of hills,

the courses of valleys,

to the warmest caverns,

caressing the petals

of this fleshy blood red rose

gaping open

to the burning rain.

questions

I have scuffed along these squalid streets

to flee the dust djinn that has tied my feet.

Where is the magic that relieves the soul

that drives the heart and feeds the whole?

Are you the engineer of my future joy?

Can you reopen doors that I have jammed?

Can your sweet breath inspire the growing dark?

Can your flamed eye revive the dying spark?

Knight Invasion

I have found you here

let me slide in beside you

your smooth legs

your flickering eye

my hand along your inner thigh

the sun-lapped skin

the golden nestling down

the other hand

has found the back

of your knee

and pulls you

sleeping

in towards me

while musky warm

bed air

fills my hungry nose

and draws me down

to nuzzle

into your soft

velvet pit

a hint of damp

the salt sweet savour

your lip

your thigh

my ear

your firming muscles

tense

you sense

my burrowing

delving undertows

your whispered moan

a sleepy groan

your pleasure

my own

and as you surface 

just a little more

you open to the rising tide

of rich sensation

your unguarded throat

your breasts afloat

my squeezing grip

your slippery lips

a warm embrace

my face 

your face

our tongues' kiss

and this

and this

and this

and this

tips on love-making

It is customary

I believe

to thank the server

for services tendered

but you

my dear madam

seem quite content

to make payment

in cash

for the kind that were rendered

so I find myself

caught

in a bit of a bind

as to how I should feel:

should I be quite

offended?

or should I shut up

and enjoy the sensation

of loving for money -

the battle surrendered

it seems I'm resolved -

though I do have some qualms -

leave it on the nightstand

least said,

soonest mended

but please take the list

that you left behind

pointing out my techniques

that could be emended.

the cellar steps

there is a looseness

in your unobstructed belly

in the easy swing of your hips

as you weave between tables

towards me

in the parting of your lips

over smiling teeth

in the soft cloth

of your dress

brushing the skin beneath

you drift in silk

and stand so close

I feel your body's heat

hear the sounds of textile against flesh

smell failing deodorant

like a gift of weakness

or a threat

or a promise

and when the strand

of hair

blows across your cheek

and slips

into the soft cavern of your mouth

with a single finger

you pull it from

between your lips

the tip

of your tongue

glimpses daylight

the strand lies

damp against your cheek

I taste that saliva

I drink you in

and your odours

I devour

you order milk

sweetened with raspberry syrup

and as you talk

you touch my arm

with a light hand

that burns so

that I cannot look at you

but rage

bought up my spirit

and the opening by others

of ragged wounds

has left me cruel

rough handed

and empty

and now

you tell me how

the young you

deep afraid of the dark

stood at the cellar door

but could not climb down the steps

controlling my pupils

I can boast
of only one facility
a gracile ability
to loosen one eye
from its rigidity
to cross the one
towards the bridge
of my nose
but leave the other in its
position of solidity

the pupil from the left
looks out over a world
already uncurled
in the pupil from the right

there is
a double checking of facts
in a field
of layering doubt

the ordering
of information
struggles with
a confounding
of binocular confusion

I count myself fortunate
however
that this that I count as a talent
for some is an unwished for curse

double vision
is my decision

so in my single cross-eyed haze
I can at any moment

stop

and realign my gaze

games with nursey

one two

unbuckle my shoe

three four

kneel on the floor

five six

naughty licks

seven eight

ooh that's great

nine ten

do it again

eleven twelve

there's a box on the shelf

thirteen fourteen

does this mean we're courting

fifteen sixteen

the bed'll need fixing

seventeen eighteen 

let's try masticating

nineteen twenty

hot love a-plenty

candy crush - a confectionery romance

if you were a boiled sweet

my candy crush

you would be a gobstopper

or a humbug

and

I would take you onto my tongue

and clatter you between my teeth

caressing you 

bathing you in spittle

and I would

suck the sweet heart of you

and my saliva would turn to syrup

and ease down my throat

to that spot 

that never feels satisfied

and you at last

would fill me

with sugary satisfaction

but if you were a boiled sweet

and I did this

you would gradually

dissolve in my mouth

and smaller and smaller

would you become

I would still feel you against my raw cheeks

and fear the grip you had on my teeth

I would sense

where sugar had burned

and mint

and spice

burrowed into me

but then

there would be nothing

of you left

except the sticky gloss

on my lips

and the small

speck of aniseed

that I would hold

at times

between my incisors

until I lost it somewhere

rolling around 

at the back of my tongue

just a small gritty speck left

that

and the sweet memory

of my inexorable

sucking

A Lidl fantasy

You may be wondering why

I seem to be behind you

whenever you turn round

behind you at the freezers

as you reach to fetch

a bag of frozen peas

behind you at the fish counter

as you stretch across the glass

and point out mackerel you need

behind you as you contemplate the wine

dark fruity and red

or reach down bottles or aromatic gin.

The reason is quite simple

and I’m sure you know

that as you lean forward

the shadow of your briefs appears

through the thin white cotton

stretched across the firm rounds of your bottom

and my thoughts have been following

the textile terminator forward from your buttocks

to their antipodes

and in my head my fingers

have pulled at the soft elastic

and eased themselves

in to the warm damp nest beneath

and sought out your deepest crevices

and your touchiest velvet places

but now that you have checked out

all I can do is take my basket

and serve myself.

ps I bought honey,  cream,
 and some soft fruit 

gooseflesh

can you touch me now

the way you used to?

do you remember

how your fingers walked

the length of my thigh

from my knee to my smile

and how you teased

and tempted rigid knots

from tired muscles

and pumped hardness

into other playgrounds

and 

the sweet ice touch

of fingertip

found dangerous paths

to follow

and from

under my gooseflesh skin

raised by your scraping nails

you drew piping hot blood

from dark recesses

and spread it seeping

through these

humming capillaries

until we sang our soaring song

from roaring bellies

can you touch me

like that

again?

or has the burning spring that

fed you

come unwound

has the silken string that twined

our hearts

unbound

let our fingers

tongues and throats

speak of this

before it is too late

and conjure up

love's memory

before we reach
oblivion’s gate

contest

this is no soft lolling

we undertake

we dance no dance

we cradle no softness

in our arms

this is no pas de deux

no love that we may slake

ourselves withal

no easy cruising

in the downtown
of our caress

this is a battle

between you and I

a hard fought struggle

to maintain the dynamic world
of us
 

we plague each other

with a critic’s eye

and flay each other

as a whip unfurled

we thrust ourselves

beneath each other’s skins

to roughly irritate

and cruelly scratch

and salt the wounds

that we inflict within

and cheer the moment
when

the victory
we snatch

honey

a golden liquid

between your skin and mine

soft silk fluid

rich as butter

thick as wine

savour the sugar

taste bitter salt

as livid as ice cream

as precious as malt

remember the sour tang

of love on your lip

then dabble in these pools

with your cool tonguetip

sip at the source

and sup at the drip

swim the long night

in the passionate deep

watching you

Are you or are you not aware 

that from this seat here, where I sit composing lies

I can see into your room?

you have never once looked over to my window

but I know you intimately

for I have been watching you

I can see you when you come in through your door

and move across to open the wardrobe

I can see you when you sit on the edge of your bed

I can see you bending to undo your shoes

and slip them, toe to heel, toe to heel, to the floor

and I can see you fingerslip your tights down the slopes of your thighs

I can see you watching your reflection in the mirror

and I can see the subtle sagging of your breasts

as you relieve your body of your brassiere

and as your intimate garments slip down silky legs

I can see your hands move

to the dark diamond delta below your belly

and your preoccupation is why you may or may not

have noticed that at this time each evening this window

is never illuminated - because I am sitting here

in the dark watching you

and your lust fills the space between us

and while you release your passion

I do the same

and as you examine your skin

with a smoothing hand

I smooth mine

and as you slip naked

between your sheets

my grasp tightens

on the subject

we have both been avoiding

a trio in a coffee shop

you have spidery
in your eyes
oh, thou chased one

you sit and you smile
pain easing
that sweet seductive smile of yours
winning in its wistfulness

and your
being throbs
a pure-dropping lusciousness
dew-fresh, glistening
luring me across the table
and then
just as I submit

http://bit.ly/1IWdPHy

you turn to your companion 
and kill me with a kiss

I hear me hating you
but cannot
I feel you loving me
but cannot
for he is there
simmering in your heart's eyes

as I flounder
in those pools

can of worms

fuck the diamond

that you are

for I see

into your creasing folds

I wrench myself

into your labial laments

and you enfold me

in the damp crystal

of your cunt

tempting me

with succulent

titbits

from the

can of worms

you say you keep

for me alone

but do you?

you slag

you drag me

entrails first

from down below

where I have

fitfully slept

you wrestle me

fighting into the night

with sharp red claws

drawing scars

on my crying cheeks

you chomp me down

like all the other

fat dick men

that you enjoy

but I

am just a fragment

of your partylife

that you leave

on the edge

of your plate

damp

with spittle

and unfulfilled lust

teeth

of all teeth

you have

the sharpest and

the pointiest

the chewing-est

and the grinding-est

for you are

a toothteaser

a molarmauler

an incisorinsister

a magicmasticator

you

who could with

your canines

rip flesh

where you find loose folds

gape

and there is hot breath

and lips

and your tongue

alive with

saliva

feed me fear

and pleasure

as you drag your

dangerous dentition

against my tenderest parts

scrape my oily skin

clean of saltsweet sweat

before

you licklap and lash your

lascivious luscious

tongue

and gnash down with

your lipsmacking

nutcracking

teeth

Bloodstone

you have struck me

with a piece of bloodstone

its angry angles

and piercing the skin of me

you have taken up this weapon

and brought it down upon me

like some cleansing punishment

and the blood letting

which you say will cure me

I am bleeding in the corridor

while you run errands 

the cage

fortunately

I have a cage within

to house the

livid beast

who lives

jammed into

the cavity of my chest

a beast that longs to breathe free air

and eat the woman he first meets out there

any woman

he does not care who

just a woman with meat on bones

a covering of fat

with chewable hair

fortunately

for that woman

I keep the beast

well hidden

under lock and key

she would not know

that she was the feast

and all she might see

would be a glimpse

of shining claw

a rattle of scaly tail

a slip of sinew

a blood-drop of spittle

she might

smell the musky scent

and taste

the odour on the breeze as I

walk past –

soothing the beast inside

with a soft growling purr

at which I know he calms

she may feel

a tension in the air

as I smile

with these grey bright eyes

at her as she passes by –

then when she has passed

I turn to show my beast

the curve of her buttock

the shapely calf

Beast claws at my cage ribs

but will not escape

and though she may contemplate

her feeling

of disturbance

the scintillation of her blood

the prickle of acrid sweat

in the pit

next her breast

the dewing of her cleavage

she will not be able

to identify the cause

as if a spirit

has shivered into her

on the mystic breeze

blown from

some aromatic desert

of heat and arid dust

of dates and sandy lust

I am

the cause

I am

that spirit

I am

the heat

the beast

the thrust

that dwells

within

I am

the beast

that seeks her flesh

and her soul

and her spirit

feed me

now

as night falls

and before I corrode myself

from within

solitary pleasures

there is

a unique

and distinctive aroma

in the bathroom

as the afternoon sun

hits the frosted glass

and gently warms

the tiled floor

it takes me back

to my adolescence

when

with parents out of the house

I explored

more

solitary pleasures

dry towels

damp wash clothes

lotions

the lubrication of soaps

water jets

showers

mirrors

and

provocatively shaped

plastic bottles

kiss

for a moment

in our lip-sealed

open-mouthed kiss

our breaths collide

you inspire me with

deep and dangerous

respiration

you breathe out

while I draw you inside

you breathe in

my dewy warm exhalation

we share the air

alive in each other's

lungs

we touch the heart

pulsating on each other’s

tongues

I float into you

taste your swelling breath

a petrel riding waves

on your great blood ocean

cavern of delight

I looked to cross this field

from hip to rounded hip

but have fallen into

this dark enticing pit

I lay my head against

a dewy shrub

that bounds the valleys height

and look up to the skyline

twin peaks

overshadowing

erect

I enter the damp

cavern of delight

streaming walls

and slippery

I batter blind

about

thump my head

again

again

against

the bony roof

until the sudden

life blood

from

my temples

comes thundering

slaking the thirst

of ages