Sunday, June 26, 2011

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
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

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

TMI Tuesday Questions & Answers - June 21, 2011

TMI Tuesday Questions (from the TMI Tuesday blog) for Tuesday June 21, 2011

1.  How many states have you had sex in? How many countries? Yes, Oral counts! All sex acts– penetrative or not– are sex.

I'm wracking my brain - I guess I'm a bore in this area. Shocking, I know. Just the one state, North Carolina. 

2. What do you think is the sexiest piece of clothing a man/women wears on a daily basis? e.g., bra, jeans, sundress, dress shirt, etc.

On either one the right expression (a come-hither look, a smile, a smirk, and so on and so forth) and/or their natural scent (depending on the person, of course). Okay, fine, I'll choose actual clothing, damnit. Men - boxer briefs or wife-beater tanks (what a horrid name for a shirt). Women - garters and stockings, hands down.

3. Would you date yourself? Why or why not?

Shiiiiiiit. Fuck if I know! I guess it really depends on the day. Yes, today I would definitely date myself. I'm sexy as hell, not bad-looking, impressively intelligent, curious, sometimes even funny, talented as all hell, loving and giving almost to a fault, erratic, eccentric, silly, a little nutso but in the best possible way, a bit of an idiot savant at times, a great flirt, I love people and have genuine gusto for life, and a million other reasons that are so numerous I can't list them all at the moment. Most importantly, though, I reckon, is that I attempt and quite often (increasingly often, in fact) overcome adversity to achieve things I never thought were possible for me, and believe you me, I wasn't the only one who felt that way. I have courage, strength, honesty, kindness, generosity, and love in abundance. And I don't bs or pussyfoot. Yeah, that's it. I'm a soft cookie and one tough broad. \o/

4. Which muscle do you work the hardest: brain, heart, mouth?

HAHAHAHAHAHA! I think most people would say my mouth (no pun intended!!!) but that's only because I'm constantly thinking, usually about things I have genuine love for... so, once again, fuck if I know? It depends on the moment?

5. Fill-in the blank: I am totally prissy (overly finicky) when it comes to _____ . 

Where I sit in the movie theatre, people touching my belongings or trying to clean for me (NO, damnit, I know you mean well, but I will damn well do it my fucking self, goddamn it!), and whether or not my food touches on the plate.

Bonus: Describe your darkest fantasy.

Um, this is really hard for me. I've been meaning to work a journal post I did on this subject into a short story of sorts, so I'm just going to take an excerpt from it and copy and paste. These really are my deep, dark, dirty thoughts and I know that there are people who would judge me for that so I do this apprehensively, yet it's also important for me to give expression to these thoughts on the other hand. So, haters, go suck it, and those of you who are open-minded and non-judgemental, well... you may need a cold shower after this. ;)

We're at a bar. You summon me to you.. Of course, I instantly put one foot in front of the other, adding a patented lady swagger, and make my way directly to the entrance of the bar, where you seem to have taken up residence. You grab me by the elbow and subtly but with unmistakable strength and force, guide me out to the parking lot, until you see a well-lit empty space. Once there, you make sure what I know what it is I should do.
"Okay, Kate, my dearest slut; my precious little fucktoy; my filthy cute cum receptacle."
I blush and tears well up in my eyes and I want to giggle too and I cannot help but let just the slightest hint of a smile escape as one side of my lip curls up.
"You will first, pull that top down and take your bra off so you're tittles are on display. Next, the panties have to go. You then need to pull your skirt up enough so it's absolutely clear to anyone who sees you that your ass and cunt are visible - purposely unclothed, there for them to see, on display and to be used as I see fit, in any way I see fit. 
Shaking still, my nervous hands fumble at my buttons and zippers in what seems like a never-ending process to remove and rearrange my clothing in the manner in which you desire. Finally, I'm ready.
"Nice, slutkake, very nice. Now lean over the hood of this car, your ass open to me, doggystyle, since I'm about to fuck your asshole until I make you sob and beg for me to stop."
I move into position. There are no words to describe what happened next. With more force and speed than my ass has ever experienced before, you shove the thickest cock I've ever had into my ass with every bit of might you had. Then, slowly, you began to gently rock your hips back and forth against the curve of my ass, so that your cock very kindly thrusts in and out. I sigh in pleasure as you shove the head of a baby fairy wand massager against my clit, quite brutally smothering it. Then, you grab my head my the hair and pull it back, turning me by the neck to face you. 
"Whore, move your fucking body or I will make it hurt and not in the way that gives you orgasms. You lightly spit on my cheek then reach back with one hand, holding it suspended in midair for just an instant, before bringing it down upon my cheek with a ferocity that rivals that of the wildest beast in the most vicious kingdom.
This only makes me wetter.
I hear someone whistle and try to maneuver my head so that I can see what's up. Two men stand before us, their hardons and contempt for me equally visible. You look at them and all three of you laugh. 
"Nice toy you have there," one says.
"I'd put my meat in her holes," is the other's witty retort.
You, of course, motion them over to us, nodding.
"She's got two holes that can take a cock. Feel free to use them. She needs a good lesson in what constitutes a real fuck. This shit she's feeding me is weak."
This made the other two men grin. After all, you basically just told them to teach me a lesson and do pretty much anything to me. 

There's more, however, you're going to have to wait until I write the short story to see how it ends. *Wicked evil grin.*

Thursday, June 16, 2011

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.*

Friday, June 10, 2011

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.


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,

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,
“baby, baby, baby,
Oh god,
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,

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.

Can we stay like this forever?

copyright 2008 Katherine Andrews