Is It So Wrong?

Le sigh. What to say about this poem? Well, first of all, it will be painfully obvious upon reading it that I was going through a (somewhat pretentious?) stream of consciousness phase. The poems produced during this phase of my evolution as a writer are among the most loved and hated that i've written. I happen to love this one but, then again, I'm biased. If you don't follow every bit of it, don't worry - there are many allusions in it, among other poetic devices. And, as usual, it's about a past (and tortured) relationship, one I've even posted poems about before, though I won't say which ones. Check out the soundcloud audio track of the poem below. 

Is It So Wrong?

So what if I want to throw it all up? 

What’s wrong with the wanting –

wanting to get rid of all this perversity and of course, you.

And yes, there are times when I relish the moments that you cling to me –

hands running through hair, stroking arms, exploring every inch of skin without ever

nearing the erogenous zones.

And so what if sometimes I’m in love with the moment?

But what’s so wrong with wanting to get rid of that and you,

when I can’t trust a single moment spent with you and you spill forth from your mouth so

much BS

and I can’t begin to know up from down, right from left, the real from the “plastic

inevitability,”

the “state of affairs where the fake is more real than the real.”

I run from that.  You, you embody that, you Warhol,

you man so searching and lost and grabbing the bits and pieces. 

Do you just collect us in your memory palace, so many relics

that can so easily be eradicated or replaced and I see you

draw back the animal’s-hair bow, let the arrow fly, but not to pierce

heart or mind or even soul but simply so we cease to exist. 

Am I wrong when, at times, I long to run from this but I am the deer caught in headlights, frozen up, eyes wide, fixated, formulated. 

(And you, so not an answer). 

Wait for me, so you can draw back the bow, release the arrow –

poking, prodding, piercing, but never pouring across the line to where

there are no lines and so much spills forth

as we emerge from empty cocoons

and shoot each other.

copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews

Is It So Wrong? by KakeDastardly

TMI Tuesday Questions & Answers - June 21, 2011

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For A Lover

This is an oldie but a goodie - a favorite of many friends and others who've read it, including professors, other writers I respect, and the like. I don't really have much to say about it but I really adore it to death and I'm sorry I don't have anything more profound to say about it except that it seems to fit my mood today. Ah, well, sometimes that's all ya got.

For a Lover

How can I claim to be inspired

when I’m always so goddamned tired?

Instead, I’ll just watch the flames climb higher,

wonder, once again, how not to burn

even though I am on fire.

Last night, we drenched ourselves in sweat.

Later, I wondered where they all went –

these goals I’ve never met.

You, I stroked like a faithful pet.

I wished I could have surrendered.

I wished I could have wept.

I took care of drunken you.

It’s something I’ve grown accustomed to,

something I know well how to do.

You couldn’t fill the gaping hole

and I couldn’t play the right role.

Even though we’ve come to know

moods, attitudes, emotions, levels of devotion –

the part I always love the best

is the making of the nest:

burrowing my face in your hairy chest,

being cradled by your toothpick arms.

I am seduced by the least of your charms.

My friend, my friend,

when push comes to shove

and end comes to end,

when one of us is catatonic

and everything seems catastrophic,

the most important things

are always platonic.

copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews


*By the way, yellow roses symbolise friendship, hence the photo I used with this post. However, I didn't want to say that at the beginning of the post, because I didn't want to give away the end of the poem, naturally. Anyway, just clearing that up, in case ya didn't already know.*

When We're Here

Damn, I've been remiss in keeping up with posting. Well, real life has been nutso, but that's a story for another day one far, far removed from this one. Suffice it to say, I've been busy. And the worst part is, my offering for you today is not my best effort. It does have its charm though. Its a tad naive, perhaps, and one  of my earlier efforts, and I'm so obviously in love or at least infatuated at that moment in time it's a little gag-inducing but not really -- in all honesty, I find it a bit cute, but I'm not all that objective, am I? It does at times veer towards the cheesy and cliche, especially, here and there, in the imagery, which, in all honesty, is what bugs me the most, because, for the most part, this is pure fiction, and I can write hotter stuff based solely in fact, which, maybe is the problem, but who cares - it's pretty and I was young and while a seasoned writer, generally-speaking, not-yet-used to the genre of erotica, had not really come into my own as an erotic poet (if I have yet, or ever will) and it's a lovely, awkward, idealistic and at the same time, hot to death (though a tad cheesy) look at a sexual encounter between two lovers, in the purest sense of that term.

WHEN WE’RE HERE

Pain penetrates every muscle and joint,

And yet,

My arthritis nor my bad back are the source of the greatest pain.

I sit here, alone, and think of you,

Wonder what you’re doing,

My heart hurts

With the ache of missing you.

What I miss is your smile, your laugh,

When I do something so me,

And the warmth that spreads through my loins

Anytime, every time,

I am lucky enough to be in your presence.

Oh baby,

I see us together,

Lying near in a picturesque land of our own creation

Waterfalls and sharks going hand in hand.

In this world of whimsy,

I look into your eyes,

Feel your stare penetrate my soul,

As you read me like a book,

Knowing just exactly what I want.

You draw me close to you,

You lips touch mine and I am only in that moment

Where nothing exists except the coming together of us,

The joining of two souls.

Your hands are on my breasts,

Your hot breath on my neck.

Your hands are hot on my skin

As you fumble with my hooks and buttons and zippers and

Then we’re gloriously naked,

Our bare bodies pressed together –

Salty sweat and bare skin against bare skin.

Arms wrapped around your neck,

I attack you with kisses –

Searching, seeking, kisses;

Lusty, loving kisses;

Naughty, needy kisses.

Unable to control myself,

To delay pleasure even an instant longer,

I push you forcefully, purposefully

Onto the bed,

Straddling you,

I grab your cock,

Your beautiful cock

All hard and thick and long and aching for my pussy,

And lower myself onto it,

Slowly, gently, beginning to rock back and forth,

To bounce up and down,

To wiggle and wriggle and giggle and writhe.

My pussy tight around your cock, my nipples hard,

my juices dripping down

my thighs onto you,

I get lost in the speed and rhythm

with which our bodies meet

as you raise up and I slam down,

Perfectly synchronized and

A perfect fit,

Giving to each other of ourselves –

(By no means an easy feat) –

As we bounce up and down in perfect harmony.

I’m lost in your eyes

You stare at me,

Hypnotizing me,

As if your eyes penetrated the very core of my soul.

You know me so well,

You love me so well,

You fit me so well,

Our eyes stay locked, frozen, stuck

In an intimate stare,

A knowing gaze

Our eyes lovingly fixed upon each other,

Stuck in each other’s stare,

Lost in a moment

Of purity and perfection

Of primality and peace

Of the truth only we know –

How here we belong together,

Are connected,

At times even one.

I bounce up and down, up and down,

One hand buried in my pussy,

Fingers, nails, caressing my clit,

Digging in to make tight circles around it,

And to pinch and pull

As you hold me by the waist

Your grip firm and forceful.

You lift me up and down, up and down,

And I in turn slam myself up and down, up and down,

Grinding and gyrating and wriggling and wiggling and

Whimpering, whining,

moaning, groaning,

crying out

In pleasure and

In pain.

Your hands roam my smooth skin,

Reach for a tit,

Tweak a nipple,

Twist,

Pinch,

Pull.

WHACK!

Your hand comes down on my ass

Hard as all hell

And I scream out

Loving the pain

Loving it as you let me know

Just who is in charge

And just what to do.

So close baby, so close,

I whimper,

Repeating,

“baby, baby, baby,

Oh god,

Baby,

I love every second your cock penetrates my pussy.”

You flip me over and

I cry out so loud,

In passion

In pleasure

In pain

As your cock enters my ass,

No mercy for the greedy,

You enter me forcefully,

Filling my ass with your cock.

I know it won’t be long.

You slap my ass again,

Bite my neck,

Order me to make you cum.

Oh baby, anytime.

Every time.

It’s my goal in life.

I ram my ass back against your cock as

you reach around and begin

to pull at my clit,

Pinching it,

Then rubbing it in tight circles

with just the right amount of pressure.

So skilled --

You never cease to amaze me.

One final thrust,

One last push of my pelvis,

And we cum together,

Your white-hot cum mixing with my juices as it fills my ass.

Our bodies shudder, quiver, spasm, throb,

And release is ours,

But more than that

For a moment at least,

Nothing separates us and

we are lost in each other,

Sharing the same ecstasy,

Sharing common love.

We collapse onto the bed,

Lying together,

Our bodies still entwined,

Our eyes still stuck

in the other’s gaze,

Mesmerized,

Hypnotized,

Electrified.

Our lips meet,

Our tongues tangle,

We nibble on each others’ lips,

And with each kiss,

We pass back and forth

electric currents of pure connection,

Pure emotion,

Pure devotion.

Baby,

Can we stay like this forever?

copyright 2008 Katherine Andrews