Everyday Erotica

[bogusagain]

I was asserting a fact of opinion. Who goes around prefacing their statements with 'imho' or 'this is fact' outside the internetz?

A creative use of words. but not very clever.

Chaucer has erotica, Eliot has erotic reference, Tzara was again sexualizing that same dull-root. Spring is the center of sexual love, stirring a dull root is stirring a dull root.

Sexualising and erotic are two different things.

Of course Chaucer has erotica in his work, it was his times, they were very earthy and less puritanical than now. If a man couldn't get an erection, his wife would get the woman next door to arouse him or the priest would call in some woman to check his manhood before so the bischop could annull the marriage so the woman could take a man that sexually functioned. We may consider some of his content erotic but the erotic content is probably perceived differently to us than his contemporaries would perceive it.

 

[darkmaas]

Saturday we stir

Laughter and the click of heels
shiver as I place my hand
on small of dainty back
ushered into the elevator

You watch the carpet ‘neath your feet
I watch you in the mirrored walls

Steel doors open
onto the short march
to our chamber
then you smile
at the sharp click
of the lock between
the public and the profane

Sunday is our day of rest

Eyes heavy lidded
half closed
you squirm
and nuzzle
my beard laced
with your lust

Dull root springs


::

 

[Tzara]

The grass is always greener...etc. etc. I envy your apparent constant traveling.

I actually don't travel so much anymore. For example, I was on a three-hour webcast today, along with two 1.5 hour web conferences.

I miss the face-to-face aspect of meetings (it's much more difficult to read how your presentation is going when you are narrating it to a speakerphone), but travel has gotten to be such a pain since 9/11 that I don't miss it that much.

Plus, I taped over my laptop's webcam, so I can do my prez in a jersey and sweatpants if need be.

But you really need to get a less puritanical doctor, especially if you find yourself in this part of the world, the beer is irresistable!

If I find myself in Berlin, I'd break the prohibition to clink a glass with you, sir.

Hey. Off-topic, what are the good art museums in Berlin? Not planning to go there any time soon, but I'd like to file away the info.

And, finally, to satisfy the thread topic:

Her note mentioned lace.
Apparently, not only my thoughts
are dyed black.​

 

[Tzara]

Saturday we stir...

A darkmaas sighting!

There is a god! Or perhaps a Muse. Or at least a pretty good poet whose verse I like.

Or perhaps Hockey Night in Canada is over and someone is bored.

Anyway, hi, dm. I have missed you.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

A darkmaas sighting!

There is a god! Or perhaps a Muse. Or at least a pretty good poet whose verse I like.

Amen - my poetic year's complete. I saw the light and it was - darkmaas.

 

[bogusagain]

Hey. Off-topic, what are the good art museums in Berlin? Not planning to go there any time soon, but I'd like to file away the info.
]

For post war art to contemporary art, the Hamburger Hauptbahnhof, just a 15 minute walk away from the new Berlin Hauptbahnhof. If you are a Joseph Beuys fan you'll be happy, if not, there is one section of the museum you aren't going to like. They've been having a series of exhibitions called Secret Universe which is a series of exhibitions about artists who are more obsessives than artists and probably more fascinating for it. One was of American Morton Bartlett's work which incorporated his pubescent and pre-pubscent dolls and drawings. Powerful stuff, very erotic and very disturbing when you consider the content. If you don't know of him, google his images.

There is the Neue Nationalgalerie at the Kulturforum near Potdamerplatz for art from 1900-60. It's alright if you've got a wet afternoon with nothing to do. There are some good works there but none that are seminal.

The Gemaeldegalerie also at the Kulturforum Postdamer Platz with art from 1300-1800. It contains the odd masterpiece. Some particularly good Durer's and Cranach's and a list of other historic superstars.

Two small museums I like are the Kathe Kollwitz museum, a small intimate museum and probably better for it because of the nature of her work, you can leave rather depressed, its unremittingly gloomy but she is no doubt a fine artist.

One you shouldn't miss if you ever get to Berlin is Die Brucke Museum. It's not so big and a little way out of the centre but a fine museum if you like German expressionism.

There are many more of course but one thing I would advise any art lover to do is make a tour of all the small commercial galleries which are centred in four main areas, Mitte (Oranienburger Tor U-bahn) and near the Rudi-Dutscke-Strasse(Kochstraase U-bahn) where you could end up being quite cynical. There are some large commercial galleries there that sell large museum size work like investment bankers selling junk bonds. Apparently they sell a lot to America because the prices are some 20% cheaper than New York galleries. It really is an eye opener. Most commercial galleries have free pamphlets with information and maps of other galleries. You can come across a lot of rubbish but also some very good work. There are another couple of areas for galleries not far from the start of Kurfurstendamm in Charlottenburg (Uhlandstrasse U-bahn), the centre of old West Berlin. Some really chic galleries with prices to match. In one posh gallery I saw a piece comprising of three canvases 80cm x 60 cm, red, green, yellow monotones selling for 35,000 euro. I don't know if there was anyone fool enough to buy it but Isuspect there is one rich fool walking about somewhere.

OK Now I have done my best for Berlin tourism, I'm going to have a coffee before I make another misconceived piece of art work.

 

[bogusagain]

How could I have forget the Kupferstichkabinett. Its gallery is small and expensive entry in my book but it has a huge collection of prints, manuscripts and drawings and if you know what you want to see you can make an appointment to view what works you want.

 

[darkmaas]

niether god, nor muse nor even well lit poet

A darkmaas sighting!

There is a god! Or perhaps a Muse. Or at least a pretty good poet whose verse I like.

Or perhaps Hockey Night in Canada is over and someone is bored.

Anyway, hi, dm. I have missed you.

Amen - my poetic year's complete. I saw the light and it was - darkmaas.

You are both too kind. It's a nice tread. (It even attracted its own quasi-troll.) My compliments to bogusagain.

I must confess though, my post was aided and abetted by a moist, young, post-prandial Bordeaux. Not exactly your standard hockey tipple but give her a couple of years ... I digress.

Glad to see you both still worshiping at the font of all things prurient. As you can see, I'm out of practice ...

::

 

[bflagsst]

A smile scatters from pursed lips
as I caress a fine line across your palm,
we go hand holding through the glass door 'til sleepnesia sets in;

Where only in dream may we cuddle comfortably
and numbingly leave behind arms and legs and tickling wisps of hair
that prevent muscle memory from girding
chest to back and loin to flank;

Where once we lay in pursuit of a pregnant pause,
pursuant to baby coo and mourning our mornings
we were intangible witness to.

Now we carry the pollen(carry the twenty-one grams or so)
and breathe new life into the night.

 

[Desejo]

Lust in Theology

Over forty years wandering
and still I wonder, why
I call out to God
as in: God, I want you

Obviously you are not God
thus I plead to God
which implies I believe, but
forty years on,
I am not sure I do.

Over forty years, perplexing
that I know nothing.
Still, the feel of God
On my tongue is right.

Different than
Fuck, I want you
Or
Damn, I want you

Frustration, passion
and underlying anger
are in all three
But God adds something more
I think.

 

[nonfictional]

She

She wafted across the room to me
Half-smiling, eyes fixed,
dark skin topped with inky hair.

The poetry of her fingers
reaching there,
through two layers of cloth
and misplaced dreams.

The poetry of her tongue
reaching in,
like a pink shooting dart
of devious means.

The poetry of her thighs
wrapping around,
like a vise of old,
opening sluices unseen.

 

[bogusagain]

edited

 

[bogusagain]

edited

 

[darkmaas]

Rough Brocade

Sophie smiles
and spreads her thighs.

Perched on the sofa’s back
like some disheveled vulture
shoulders pressing against cool plaster
so she can see her sex
in the mirror facing.

She holds her breath.

The only sound
the gentle slurp that fingers make
in molten folds of flesh engorged.

Eyes wide but now sightless
she grunts
then gently slides
down rough brocade.


::

 

[KathrynMartin]

the kiss

The aroma of lushes foam
Underneath the claim
Of burnt brown, a lick of sugar
Left like a fading memory scattered

Sooth by the icicle softness
a single touch
Opens lips

 

[Desejo]

She found pictures.
Underneath the plain paper lining
of his underwear drawer.

It was like finding treasure.

 

[KathrynMartin]

I love this, it is both subtle and in your face it makes my heart sing

She found pictures.
Underneath the plain paper lining
of his underwear drawer.

It was like finding treasure.

 

[bogusagain]

She found pictures.
Underneath the plain paper lining
of his underwear drawer.

It was like finding treasure.

I'm cheating here because this is an oldy but your delightful little poem reminded me of it.

 

[Desejo]

Throwing away the Bottle

It's a work of art, really
Cut glass, cool hardness
containing liquid distilled from
thousands of tiny deaths, up-rootings
and break downs of cellular structures
to create something delicious.
But there is now only the lingering
scent of expensive memory

In Dakar or Bangkok someone would
add alcohol and water
fold shiny cellophane over corners
of a fake designer box and presto!
something quite acceptable to hawk
to the masses

But here, it is just an empty bottle.

I remember buying it
duty free
Handing over my credit card and passport
with out blushing
Unwrapping the shiny cellophane
in that hotel room where
you probably saw it on the mantel
when we showered
using your Axe manly shower gel.

Now, it is just an empty bottle.
And it’s time to throw it away.

 

[Desejo]

Maybe that is not everyday erotica. It's not that erotic. Whoops.

Bogusagain - that was a great read!

 

[darkmaas]

There’s that tiny moment
when you arch your back
and lift your bottom
off the sheets
to make it easier
for me to slide your panties off.

Over the years
though the panties changed
and sensible white cotton
gave way more exotic plumage
the moment stays the same

Sometimes you smile languidly
your eyes half shut
other times the heat
and sweat of passion
adds impatient wrinkles to your brow

I love that moment
a kind of sacrament
the act that says
I trust you
enter my willing flesh


::

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Where there's a will...

Should we lock the door
to prevent embarrassment,
possible coitus interrupt-us?

Those early morning invaders
clambering over our still
conjoined bodies kill the moment,
create instant deflation with
their joyful morning song.

But the barred door would
form seeds of curiosity so far unripened
so you enter me eagerly from our
spooned state.

Questioned, we're just cuddling
and the troops leave, satisfied
as do we an hour later.

 

[OpheliaQuieroz]

When I do our laundry
I hold your briefs
under my nose
inhale slowly
and try to guess
which pair you wore
for your weekly
tryst with Julia.

 

[darkmaas]

::

I lie panting
Sophie rolls off
and holds me
softening in her hand
and hums a happy tune

::

 

[darkmaas]

::

You pad around the house
just skin and panties
'cause it's so damn hot

I run a finger up
the inside of your thigh
and get swatted for my trouble

but beads of sweat appear
on the small of your back

::