Love And Lust
Love and lust are poles apart.
Lust is chaos, love is art.
Love infinite, lust is finite.
Love is sustained, lust is short.
Love is spiritual, lust is physical.
A Hero
Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Three times I drove the demon out,
Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . .
And yet I know beyond a doubt
He'll get me yet, he'll get me yet.
I know I'm mad, I ought to tell
A Dead Boche
To you who'd read my songs of War
And only hear of blood and fame,
I'll say (you've heard it said before)
'War's Hell! ' and if you doubt the same,
Today I found in Mametz Wood
A certain cure for lust of blood:
Where, propped against a shattered trunk,
In a great mess of things unclean,
Sat a dead Boche; he scowled and stunk
Sonnet - 3: What Civilization You Do Draw Man!
What civilization you do draw, man!
Enlightening some too little candles,
Beneath centuries' deep darkness is seen
Which is engulfing your own existence;
Humans degrade humans loosing devils
And sins of lust, murder, crimes, corruptions
Wars, violence, greed, hatred, all evils
Are enough to finish all perfections;
Leave me here in this hungry wilderness,
In this ferocious cage leave me alone,
Anarchy
I saw a city filled with lust and shame,
Where men, like wolves, slunk through the grim half-light;
And sudden, in the midst of it, there came
One who spoke boldly for the cause of Right.
And speaking, fell before that brutish race
Like some poor wren that shrieking eagles tear,
While brute Dishonour, with her bloodless face
Stood by and smote his lips that moved in prayer.
A Poet For A Lover (Adult)
Give me a poet for a lover
whose words stroke me like velvet hands.
Word-tender caresses more reaching
than the caress of a mere mortal man.
A poet's light touch is so gentle.
Word-fingers probe deep every time,
arousing me, haunting me, wetting me,
seducing me, body and mind.
The Obsessive Agony Of Lust
Self lost in obsessive agony,
Your primal passion - a flaming ferocity,
The raging fire consumes your dignity,
And shame is put to slumber.
Seduced by the wayward twin of Love,
Power of deviation subdued,
On pathway of despair you tread:
A burden too heavy to bear.
*** Love Or Lust ***
The drought kills the thirst
Harvest is a rarity
Dry winds dance in skin deep heat
Leaves abandon trees
Grounds crack in branches
I walk in pain
As needles climb up my feet
My lungs shiver of dryness
My heart pumps like a drum beat
Somewhere under the canopy
'To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage'
'The hot night makes us keep our bedroom windows open.
Our magnolia blossoms.Life begins to happen.
My hopped up husband drops his home disputes,
and hits the streets to cruise for prostitutes,
free-lancing out along the razor's edge.
This screwball might kill his wife, then take the pledge.
Oh the monotonous meanness of his lust...
It's the injustice... he is so unjust-
whiskey-blind, swaggering home at five.
My only thought is how to keep alive.
Lust
Lust is what I speak tonight,
Lust is what I see tonight,
Lust is what I feel tonight,
And I Lust You.
Show me your Body
inside out…
no clothes on,
no holds barred…
bit by bit,
A Memorial
Canonised when dead, cannonaded when in life,
Lofty your thoughts that savour of content
But loftier the craftmanship
More congruent in symmetry
Than ever are our warring senses-
All in silent watch -martyr.Not your lust
of martyrdom but the sculptor's chisel
carves a living name, world wonder made.Sad,
Time and with it, centuries fail to see
Lust, Lust, Lust
He lusts for her
Her apple breasts
Beneath her vest
Taste the best
Lust, Lust, Lust
Three women on the go
Yet happiness does not flow
It is only
Lust, Lust, Lust
The Freaks
He talks, turning a sun-stained
Cheek to me, his mouth, a dark
Cavern, where stalactites of
Uneven teeth gleam, his right
Hand on my knee, while our minds
Are willed to race towards love;
But, they only wander, tripping
Idly over puddles of
Desire. .... .Can this man with
Nimble finger-tips unleash
Houses Chapter Ix
A mason came forth and said, "Speak to us of Houses."
And he answered and said:
Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls.
For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone.
Your house is your larger body.
- Love And Lust -
Bodies entwined
Hearts resounding
the shivers of sweat
coming and going
Those inhibited places
opening up: slowly, gently,
delicately
losing inhibitions
new sensations
Thou Art Indeed Just, Lord, If I Contend
Justus quidem tu es, Domine, si disputem tecum:
verumtamen justa loquar ad te:
Quare via impiorum prosperatur? &c.
Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend
With thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just.
Why do sinners' ways prosper? and why must
Disappointment all I endeavour end?
A Last Word
Let us go hence: the night is now at hand;
The day is overworn, the birds all flown;
And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown;
Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land,
Broods like an owl; we cannot understand
Laughter or tears, for we have only known
Surpassing vanity: vain things alone
Have driven our perverse and aimless band.
Let us go hence, somewhither strange and cold,
The Deceptive Eye
Eyes are the windows to each and every soul
That articulates a story in every perspective
Seeping when sad and tightened when angry
But can lie to us ‘cause they're deceptive.
For our eyes lie to each and every one of us
Unable to fathom what we're capable of
No one has seen what our eyes have seen
Which could vary from hatred to love.
To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage
'It is the future generation that presses into being by means of
these exuberant feelings and supersensible soap bubbles of ours.'
- Schopenhauer
'The hot night makes us keep our bedroom windows open.
Our magnolia blossoms. Life begins to happen.
My hopped up husband drops his home disputes,
and hits the streets to cruise for prostitutes,
free-lancing out along the razor's edge.
This screwball might kill his wife, then take the pledge.
To A Snowflake
What heart could have thought you? --
Past our devisal
(O filigree petal!)
Fashioned so purely,
Fragilely, surely,
From what Paradisal
Imagineless metal,
Too costly for cost?
Who hammered you, wrought you,
From argentine vapor? --