Poems, Uncategorized

Anzac Day

Beware those earnest adults in lines

Whose dawn service dream

Is to fold their lives into the seam 

Of fantastic filth, of men in ditches

Swollen with mud and dirt and lice

Cowering under thunder, shivering in ice

And frozen hurt of Christmas.

 

Anzac day, rest day.  Dead time

Lines of clowns parade for the dead

Drowning in leaden pride for things

They never did.  For lives they never led

Or wars they never fought. They never went  

To villages for girls they never bought

Or bread that they never brought from home

Nor sought in depths of slops they never knew.

 

No, stay away with your painted faces

And your hideous traces of empire.

Keep your blue and red fantasies to yourselves

For you know yourselves to sing

Brazen anthems of lust and theft

You latter day youths who write

“Australia” on your chest and pavement

Clutching this blue or that red, this or that

Excrement.

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Lists and Lists....lost and lost

TMI Tuesday it was, and I tried to recreate it. But somehow it ended up blank. God I don’t know what I did. Sorry. I was told it was TLI – true. Bizarre. When I looked it up on open google it was still there from when I posted it….well, I don’t know…

So lovely Lizzy has posted a challenge response….and now I am trying again. She is collared and owned. God I wish I were. Anyway, she is here….http://collaredowned.wordpress.com/2014/04/22/tmi-tuesday-april-22-2014/

AND she says
1. How addicted are you? You are in a rush, there is no time to make your morning coffee or stop to buy it. However, you can save time and get your “energy high” by brushing your teeth with a caffeine-infused toothbrush. Would you buy and use this product? Why or why not?

Her response: Hmm.. No. I can live without my morning coffee, I’m not that addicted.
My response: I love the scent of coffee….just adore it. I love its taste too….

2. You made a sex list of all the things you’d like to do but haven’t done. The list was lost and discovered by your boss at work. He/she ask if they can help you tick a few items off the list. What do you say?

She says: If that happens I need to get a new job….
I say: I agree with Lizzy. But anyone else but that sleaze can bend me over and do whatever….

3. Sex around the house. Have you ever been bent over the kitchen counter or bent a lover over the kitchen counter and fucked? What did you like most about it? What did you like least?

She says: Yep, been bent. It was a while ago, and while it was nice I prefer more traditional settings for sex.
I say: Yep been fucked on the bench, been fucked also on a glass table. Imagine cock being rammed in while I worry about whether the table can carry the both of us…

4. Sexting…How do you really feel about it? a. Meh? Not my thing. b . Can take it or leave it, usually have to be begged to do it c. I like it, it’s like foreplay.
d. Love it! I’m always sending naughty notes and steamy pics. e. What’s your number? I have f. daily sexting list, wanna sign up?
She says, and so do I: Not my thing, but if someone really, really wants to I might do it.

5. What do you love to sniff? Why?
She says: Flowers. Because they smell nice.
I say: genitals. Especially if they are swollen….

And two more because I am a slut of sevens…

6. Would you let a stranger fuck you? Beat you?
My reply: almost certainly yes, so long as it is penetrative into me. I do not do the reverse. Yes almost anyone can beat me.

7. How good are you at seduction?
Me: no good at all.

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Lists and Lists….lost and lost

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Is this it?

Is this it?  Will it really stop soon?

Or will I be dragged back, in some screaming reincarnation, to do it all again?  

I mean does it stop

Why on earth do Christians and Muslims and all those other after-death-comes-life want eternal life?  

I mean, WTF?  What is the matter with them?  Don’t you just want that throbbing, pushing, hurting, saddening, shoving, killing-without-killing thing to, well, stop?

Goodness me, I do.  If only it would stop. If only I could exit easily and without hurting others….if only.  If we were honest isn’t that a totally common desire?

So: Imagine you were not here.  Say in 1642.  Or 1426.  Or 2416.  Whatever. Not here at all. What do you feel about that?

Nothing.

And nothing, my dear, sweetest friend, nothing is really rather nice

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The 20 fact challenge – in Metaphors

Mouse refused the challenge and did herself in metaphors (http://girlinabasement.com/2014/04/23/30-day-blog-challenge-day-23/ )….so I am going to do that too.  Hers are pictures of dolls.  I do not understand them.  I just read over mine, and I am not sure anyone will understand these either….

So a metaphor is a field of transposition….and I am going to do 20 facts in metaphors.

1.  I am rock.  Indestructible.  You can beat me, but I can outlast your blows, I can take more than you give, boastful me, just goading you to go one more, waiting. I am back as good as ever.

2.  I am water.  Yes, wet, dripping with tears, just watching a soppy movie, I dissolve.

3.  I am fire.  I am ablaze with mad stuff that I want to do.  I am like a fireball hurtling through the ether

4.  I am ice.  Yes, that far off ice of the comet as it arcs across the frozen and airless night sky.  I cannot dissolve, no matter how hard I try, remote, remote am I with the tears of eternities frozen in my glassy eyes

5.  I am dance.  Yes indeed.  It is wrapped up in me like string, every word I hear is the sound of a string being ruffled, the soft brush of the cymbal, the throbbing rhythm of the dance, pulsing like a vein out of my arms, my legs, my neck, bulging and ready to explode in the rhythm of a breaking heart.

6.  I am word.  Ah yes indeed. How could I be other than that?  Maybe indeed, I am only that.

7.  I am silence.  I am the darkness between the flashes, the moment before the footfall.

8.  I am pain.  I grow bruises on my body like flowers.

9.  I am waste.  I am to be discarded, trampled on and cast aside.  

10.  I am death.  Death eats me from the inside.  I can think of nothing else.  Just that death that slowly rots me from the beginning of my very life.

11.  I am love, but not as you would think.  I am that protective love, that one that enfolds.  I am love, but I am not a lover.  If you want a lover, you need to pay a different piper. Here you find only dust.

12.  I am shame.  Like amber, I am pure shame wrapped up in my very name.  I am reviled, at least in my mind, though not to any other soul.  Only you, now reading this, you select few.

13.  I am laughter.  Sometimes mocking, yes, but that is mainly for me.  I am laughter of the other kind….the one that softens, that does not mock.  No, I laugh with you, not at you.

14.  I am funny.  Strange to say.  It does not sound like that.  But mainly I am fun and funny.  Even small animals think so.  No that was not true.  But you get the idea.  And if you don’t, well, you need to write for the code to unlock the joke.  

15.  I am mathematics.  Ah yes, I am.  The magic of numbers, they are the double helix, the fold of code, the programme, the sacred message inside which, when you open it, or if I open it, is nothing at all. Just that wonderful persian invention, zero.

16.  I am lunch.  Eat me.  Or not.

17.  I am animal.  Yes of course I am. That means you need to care for me sometimes, but because of the kind of animal I am you can beat me too.

18.  I am sadness. Of course, yes, that is rather human.  I cannot get away from it, tinging things like a stain.  It seeps into things, like bad red wine staining a shirt.

19.  I am human.  I know it seems incredible, unbelievable.  But yes, I am from the same species as you.  Makes you think, hey?  Sorry.

20.  I am longing.  I am those imprisoned eyes that look and look but cannot have.  I hunger for everything, and sometimes for nothing at all……

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Take the Twilight Quiz....

OK so I am Bella.…well let me start at the beginning….

So to start with I need to say that I adored the first Twilight film. Fine, I got that out. Is that ok?

I came across this quiz via Miss Lizzy (http://bipolaryarns.wordpress.com/2014/04/22/took-a-quiz-for-fun/). She wanted to find out which goddess of the ancient world she was, and discovered she was Hera. I took it and got the same result, but some of the questions did not apply. And anyway, I feel more like I was a sex worker at best or perhaps at worst some kind of beggar or slave in the ancient world…certainly not that I was any kind of a goddess. So I went for another quiz…..and chose this one.

So which Twilight character am I? I suppose the result I got is right in a way, though it is pure flattery to think I could be one of the two main characters. Now why would I be either of these two luminous people? I wonder if the quiz just defaults to one or the other….maybe not….maybe not.

You guessed it, I was um, not Edward. Totally not Edward, but instead, I am Bella apparently. And that is rather nice. Look at her for goodness sake.

God I wish it were true. She is gorgeous. I would be her anyday. And I guess I would go out with Edward too, if only he would not be so complicated. And he would have to whip me sometimes, and you know….well, bite me on my blue-veined white neck.

God, so not. Anyway, the quiz actually asks me which gender I am…and I told the truth as I see it – male. It did not matter apparently. I am Bella.

Well, ok. I would love to be Bella.

Here is the quiz….

http://www.quizmosh.com/q/index.html#/quiz/twilight/intro

If you are lucky, you are Bella too! Or Edward.

My Lists, Uncategorized

Take the Twilight Quiz….

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Consensual Nonconsent

writingthebody:

GAME OF EYES. So much of what domination and submission comes to in the end is told in the eyes. Look at the photo below to see an example of what I mean. I just turn to jelly when I see images like this…..not because of their outfits or their age. No this defies all those things. The game of eyes starts in childhood, and carries on until the end of life.

So drink in this image….see how she gazes directly into his eyes and how he, in his turn, can barely meet her gaze. Yet he has to, because she wills it so. I think female domination differs from male domination in that these subtle things matter more. In fact, at times, I suspect the domination and the submission is even more complete than the society-aligned d/s relationship where the male via his phallus rules.

I love this new blogsite because it broaches questions of the limits of female led relationships – can it be non-consensual? It can, it seems. Can she mandate anything? Almost, it seems. Anyway, I just adore this kind of image….the clothes hardly matter. In fact they do not matter at all. It would not matter if both were fully dressed. It is the game of eyes that counts…..her direct gaze into his eyes, and into him. His uncertainty, and his obedience.

For me, this was how it all started when I was at school, knowing already that I was paralyzed, unable to resist, ready to submit to anything, anything at all…..even death, sigh!

Originally posted on Women Owning men:

Consensual Nonconsent

A consensual slave is one who has agreed to serve his Mistress as a slave. Possibly a contract will have been signed and limits agreed. However it is open to the slave to decide what he will and will not do. Thus he is in fact ultimately in control of the situation and his Mistress can only do what he will allow. He may at times question the actions of his Mistress, become surly or behave in a grudging manner. He may argue and show disrespect. All of these traits are not what a Mistress wants to see in a slave.

He could decide to withdraw from the relationship in which case he might at worst loose his partner. But that would be the sum total of the consequences. The Mistress may well feel restrained or restricted in what she can or cannot do, how far she can go etc…

View original 439 more words

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Making me a better person....

See,
It takes time
With people like me
It takes time, you see
To rhyme the rhythm of love
With the shame of love
With the pain of it
The loss of it
A falling, a falling
Away. So, you see
So you see
We need….we need
Well, you can see the need….
See what we need,
See,
It makes us better,
Somehow, we see
Perhaps.

making me better

Me being beaten….don’t I just look like a punching bag? I don’t know why I need to show myself this way, but I suppose it is part of the humiliation….

Poems, Uncategorized

Making me a better person….

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