Monthly Archives: November 2018

Rumours of Comets

Fridayam's Blog

The Moon heard the rumours as she stared at the

amusing blue-green bauble that

endlessly revolved in her sky, sending

puny gee-gaws that she barely felt, and the

thought of comets coming excited her

dry crust, still bearing the livid bruises of the

poundings she’d endured in her youth that made her

groan and tremble and ejaculate great

gouts of her soul, times she now missed, playing

seventh fiddle to that great manwhore Sun who

always got all the best action, but she’d been a

player once, a good-time, go-to girl so maybe if she

shone alluringly, she could prove

even as a mature woman that she could still

pull the cosmic best, get what she needed, that

orgasmically wet cosmic seed.

 

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Cenotaph

A final thought on a dignified day

Fridayam's Blog

An empty tomb, without trophies,

grave-goods, food for the dead,

sacrificed servants, horses or their

caparisons, armour or

weapons, fine linens, dried flowers,

images of warriors, scenes of

pomp or nature or love or

lust, naked of

grinning bones or dust,

holding nothing but

immured air.

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The Abcess of Absence

He swore he heard her on the

upper floor, or

at the door, her key

scratching for entry from the

outer dark, or her soft

snores in the night,

turning to his right,

hoping to feel her

spooning warmth to

heal his sores.

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MULTIGLOM

The Anne Billson blog

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Married Submissive, Exploring the kinky side of life.

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In happiness my words I lack, in grief they overflow.

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dressed in words

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"He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life." ...James Joyce

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Erotic Poet and Artist - Welcome to My Sensual World

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A quoi servent les images que l'on ne montre pas ?

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Because a dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste...