touch me

the first piece of visual art is by an anonymous artist, titled: black & white suit. the second piece of visual art is by Teo Alfonso, an artist from the Phillipines who now resides in Washington.

TOUCH ME

 

touch me.

harder.

 

beneath this pale and waxy masque,

a shadowy predator waits.

moon-glow eyes over a wet razor grin.

 

darkness and light woven as howls

that echo and echo cold night.

 

feel it.

fresher.

 

bloodlust fidgets the graceful grip of love.

squirmy, liquid steel scream

tightens into  its best gargoyle pose

upon the scarred and bloomy palms

of a spotless saint.

 

crawl on my sweet surface.

bathe in my filthy depths.

 

experience

feathery heaven draped over

a hellish tangle of polished black briar.

engage charity's flight and hunger's pulsation.

 

 

kiss me.

deeper.

 

taste the boiled blood of my lips.

slip, with this flawed me,

into the beautiful turmoil

of a cherub faced, dragon clawed

eternity.  

 

we’ll course the veins of space with time,

salvage shipwrecked souls along wasteland shores,

hunt demons through the vast forests of lively starlight

and deadly shadow.

 

we’ll live,

viscerally driven;

spiritually fired,

forever,

or until one state

eclipses the other.

 

 

then,

we feast!

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[roarke]

I've never heard 2am post bar hopping drive through feasting at White Castle described so effectively.
Sorry, not trying to be flippant.
seriously it brought back the time, place, condition, and mental state that transported me through an ether of surreality that permeated those moments after ordering, watching some pimple faced burger flippers wake the drunk up in front of the twelve cars behind him, who then drives off without his order and getting my order, then my shoving my cold hands into the steaming white bag, pulling out a soggy box stuffed with layers of questionable food elements and filling my alcohol singed nostrils with the heady, musky, pungent aroma of sliders, like coffee is to beverages, sliders are to food, there are no substitutes. Six meat, cheese, pickle, onion bits and faux bun morsels disappear in an instant, box and all. It's like cocaine, or chocolate milk and Dolly Madison waxy chocolate covered doughnette's as hang over remedy the next day, but only if you ended up going home alone.

See, it's the same thing, one man's creative imagination is another man's fast food addictions......

btw, nice stuff R.G.

[Ruth]

Blooming heck! Yup, that hit the nerves and stirred - "nuff said" lol xoxo

[arbitrary jane]

yeah, i'm with roarke. this reads addiction. all the bad things that call and call and sing so soothing-sweet and drive us down to the place where there is a mutual eclipsing and all that is left is cannibalistic frenzy.
you have lines in here that are stunningly, darkly gorgeous, and the undulating shape of this, delving and refining to the pointed end seems to mirror the sweet sickness - unto death.
superior work.

[Kenneth The Poet]

F**k, this is an excellent piece. Reminds me of Poppy's seductive prose.

[Sarah]

lovely work. the words are so powerful. nice one...

[Kerry O'Connor]

So where do I sign up? Hey, anyone got a pen around here?

[Cassie Fraga]

**we’ll course the veins of space with time,

salvage shipwrecked souls along wasteland shores,

hunt demons through the vast forests of lively starlight

and deadly shadow.



we’ll live,

viscerally driven;

spiritually fired,

forever,

or until one state

eclipses the other.** R.G. Johnson

I love that right there!! Do or Die moment... Great read!!

[Amy Bumpas]

Passionate, sexy, twisted, and you do seem to always like to be on top...
in control...

[Larry Dyson]

YES...very visceral and unforgiving..draws One in and almost digests them...great!

[Sharkapillar]

Exquisite! Your descriptions are absolutely lovely, my friend.