Best Orgiastic Poems
There’s no suitable explanation for
me- no premise by premise,
with a slight scent of rosed misconceptions
leading to my conclusion.
Scientists? Well they’d have me
believe i’m the effect of some
orgiastic collaboration of molecules.
But without my mind, i’m lost (and
they cannot fix that with surgery)
skeptics aside, why am I here? What’s
my function?
My function is merely to
exist.
To exist within those short breaths
taken upon the peak of dawn’s smile. Within
the st-studdering flutter of eyelids
during the first sight of love, the first
realization of fate.
I’ve set on this land so the sun can shine
through my eyes lifting my head to the clouds,
and my arms to the horizon.
And in my moment of pure innocence
and certainty, you look upon and smile.
and in that brief stare-
I exist in you.
I exist for you. Whoever
you are. (morning jogger, tricycle
warrior, dreamwalker)I am simply here
For our thin glimpse of truth:
that I exist within you
as you in me.
God incarnate, I am not.
But I am given the chance to obtain
God-like attributes. to be a part of Your
life, however miniscule or unimportant.
I made You smile. I made You
laugh. I made You turn. I made You love.
I made You exist.
If only for Me You exist.-
Tanka/ Haiku
Dionysian’s
Drunken Roman Bacchante (1) footnotes
God of the Maenads' (2)
Female appreciation
Tainted murderous servants
Maniacal twist
Hold each- a sensuous kiss
Trained not by hubris
Phalli held in revere
His spirit flows through rapture
Beloved Bacchus
Honors Ancient Helena
Amathia(3) scorns-
Succubus eat them alive
Gynarchy apothesized
Bacchanalians' (4)
Hold wild dances- Worship
Drunken honored god
Children and men torn apart
In a sensuous moment
Oh! Oh how we sing!
Dionysus flows his wine
How we rhyme and chime-
Frenzied ****ing in circle
Prove to Him our Miracle
"Your desires speak-
My beloved enchantress
Sweat, dance, Love for Me
Use My phallice, drink My wine-
Worship Me till end of Time"
(Haiku)
Merry speak, Father
As life sprouts forth within spring-
Priapic flower.
Mythical Treasure
Is the lie of unbelief
Common man’s relief
Under torch in deepest wood
Ladies did dance unrestrained
In religious ecstasy.
1. Bacchante- Greek & Roman Mythology A priestess or female votary of Bacchus
2. Maenads-Greek Mythology A woman member of the orgiastic cult of Dionysus.. A frenzied woman.
3 Amanthia-Myth & Legend / Classical Myth & Legend) (often capital) of or relating to the orgiastic rites associated with Bacchus
it is roughly wisdom's opposite. It means recklessness, deep ignorance about oneself and the nature of the universe. It leads to
excess, impatience. He irrationally rejects Dionysus and the new religion; his unthinking and uncompromising scorn for popular
piety and the new teachings is neither rational nor open-minded. But he is also very young, and his youth in part excuses his crimes
4 Bacchanalian (Myth & Legend / Classical Myth & Legend) (often capital) of or relating to the orgiastic rites associated with Bacchus
In the eye of the hurricane, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : En el ojo del hurracan
(Ninth in the collection : Metafora del Desafuero, published – according to the editor, Alejandro
Duque Amusco – not in 1988, but in 1989, was awarded the « Premio Nacional de Poésia »
for 1989, on May 28, 1990. Bousono, as in these later free verse compositions, shows how
well he manages the long-breathed line, a clear contrast to the compact and elliptical earlier
verse, say, of the collection : Subida al amor. T. Wignesan)
The creatures of plenitude situated themselves holding their silence, the thrones of
inexplicability, exactly, therefore, in the very centre of the eye of the hurricane :
that doors be blown asunder, that windows be blown away,
that agonizing bodies in makeshift beds be smothered into oblivion,
half-dead widows, postmen who half-way in the act of delivering
the love letter which would definitely render us joyful,
the seat where the poor old grandmother was in the act of sitting
while sewing
the newly-born baby’s pony-tailed bonnet which turned around half-
way in the gusts,
the hurricane which uplifted love and all that was left of love :
letters, papers, leaves
of music,
lovers in coitus at the orgiastic acmé and the light,
when it began to dawn,
when the saxophone cleared its throat and commenced the beat of the
dance,
when everything on the stage in its place awaited the raising of the
curtain,
when the wedding was at the point of being consecrated, and the
priest was ready to offer his benediction : « el ite misa est »,
when within the following few moments the inexorable
ceremonial of the written formalities was about to be concluded
then, as I said,
and only then,
the hurricane unleashed its violence with rage, the incomprehensible
hurricane, and there stood still only the immoveable lucid eye,
separate, eminent, complete in its entire being, that by force of its
profundity had ascended to the exact point where it could
redeem its guilt,
the eye of reconciliation,
the eye of wisdom and suave serenity,
where the intact and silenced world sang
adorable and yet so beautiful without us,
necessary pretexts, notwithstanding, of its musical nature.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
God, smiling
Gave to men license
Sing in Joy
Dance in love
Merge body and soul
Raise ye up the Holy din
To God's ears
In Samba
Writhe orgiastic
Sweetly sweat
Crying out
The birth pangs of life
In joyous recognition
Of His gift
By William Kershaw for Nette's Share a Shadorma contest
Olga Scheps embodies Chopin's Piano Concerto n° 1
For a pianist who ponders her prey
The taming arms-length erect posture
The torso and pulsating violin back encased in red-rich ornate coarse wrap
Nape muscles strung by swaying grace-groomed arms branched aloft
Pursed lips part for allegro romp
Tensile gushed groin screaming on seat-edge flailing fingers
Averse to sleek chord whale case under knee-cap check
Who is the Master of the indomptable Mistress
Does the script express and extend the actress's role
Or trundled chords liberate hidden Polish voices yearning
Cabriole on prairie pastures
The yearling kicking high on the keyboard
Startling the chevron-sinewed munching herd
Light lambs and kids throwing frolicking fits
Round and round the heifer humping high down the meadow
Stung to the quick half-recurring bars of the theme
The feline fauve now appeased by soft churning cuddles
Pages of screwed signals hung on lined sign-posts
Roused by nut-cracker knuckles
Flush out repartee collective timbre strings
Doused by the sweet-sweating triumphal orgiastic release
The wilful eyes of the hungry panther
Turn soft and pander to the prey
Is this when the poised moment of the composed kill
Misses the mark just once
The sleek black whale bears its twinkling teeth
in hollow rage
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2018
The first cut
of roses
are in bloom
and I will
see them soon,
very soon.
They float
in a bowl
of Arctic ice-flow;
regarded highly
by the local Wal-Mart
feng shui
masters.
Made to hang and share
the air
with antebellum
paintings
of imagination mansions;
holding common court,
side by side,
with ancient saints
of former papal dynasties.
The sweet scent
of first bloom perfume,
exaggerated
in all three,
becomes, too soon,
disguised, sour, funerary
aromas of terminus musk.
Can these murdered
roses face rage
from the pastel haze
of entryway
Nirvana?
When contradiction
changes or disintegrates
thought,
immutable miracles might
be imbued beyond the common wrought.
You attained an interdiction
of proportional catastrophes
which indirectly praises
all the phases
of old Rome's historic papacies.
The dead red roses float
in symbiotic sacrifice
to long dead religions
and a joyous old South.
The new South seduced
by orgiastic myth,
reproduced,
to promote fevered pleasure
in sycophant seekers
of false history.
I found displayed
all the rages
of the ages
on the pages
in their own time -
placed by decision
of revisionist mind.
Integrity of lust,
indisputably pure
until sated
by objectified cure.
Then lost again
in retrieval of memory.
Now contaminated, fully,
by casual indoctrination
causing idiosyncratic
immolation of synaptic integration.
A self-destructive, cultural,
(*****sapiens specific)
neurotic guilt is causal.
Is there somewhere,
hidden in forbidden,
abandoned land,
a gated, grisly city
sealed and shut
by rusted nails?
Standing there
where citrus fruit rots,
in the sultry dusk of time -
Eden -
forsaken ruination of a city;
the failed garden of God.
Temples of Temptatious Time
Love cascades as liquid lust and moonbeams throw a thriving thrust
The gods walk on their carnal crust drinking nectar a menstrual must
Amidst their ambient amorous array raining roses a botanical display
Love bewitches a beguiling ballet vestal virgins with a floral bouquet
~~~
Honey drips on the Venus veil as the sensual staffs begin their sail
Loves lubricants with abiding ale arise to climax the masculine male
Desires in temporal time stimulate as seductive skins consummate
Chronos devours the seconds of fate as genitals into ecstasy gyrate
~~~
Timekeepers of eternal bliss give birth to lovers a boisterous blitz
Licentious fantasies reminisce admits depths of the amoral abyss
Orgiastic ovulations await, white knights promiscuously penetrate
Nilpotent Nanos nefariously negate as moments in time magistrate.
Ariana Grande - 'God is a woman'
July.22.2018
In the Moment of Time
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Placed 1'st
only by a fluke did I manage
to worm winning trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into a an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the motley crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendents,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, andhandily did ap pear
and despite one hundred percent bug free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
d escribingclandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert,
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when alias Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
code named Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally
besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky gangnum style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
...exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
(alternately titled untold treasured shenanigans of Santa)
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves) hest
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
Form:
Washing out the stains,he deceived me into believing that.
A story that stirs the imagination,iam constrained to leave.
He was subject to periods of euphoria and dreadful depression.
Do you call this monstrosity a work of art?
I made sure he was telling the truth.
He addressed himself to the task of promoting detente.
He can be very mean in his spite,reduce me to silence.
Honorouble mention happen to meet reputation,i said
as idealism was wounded in the right side.
Drive me to drink,iam tired,double bass sounded strange.
You must rest for a while,as my conscience dictates.
I will get up a dramatic performance,an orgiastic night.
Duality,schizophrenia or simply a disagreement?
Me or him,splitting in two,something unique.
Conceived In Sin -
Cincinnati, Ohio
(most Up To Date Virgin)
Any attempt for fecund woman
to successfully counteract biologic
reproductive force to whit
deserves grudging testes
meant to garner at least tidbit
sans, ejaculated kudos (by Dickens),
where aborted squirt,
viz skin flute, gets writ
off as sad sack pit
tiff full seaman unwittingly spit
outside sought after vasocongestion
swollen phallic doth intuit
thwarted down thrust trend,
where offspring of genetic
inheritance since Eve soffit
a dam nibble prickly outcome
braking abrupt copulation,
where half cocked drill bit
attempts to hit
bulls eye included with animalistic kit
and caboodle born toward illicit
propagation of species,
this indomitable overbearing gen nit
till foreplay to liberate dill lib writ
lee, pointedly and instinctually
continue human race,
where a bajillion threads did knit
world wide web steeped with lit
richer replete with orgiastic nit
tee gritty prurient details
recounting bacchanalian debauchery
nun such breakable classless habit
ah what a dog send to gift
and empower women to inhibit
unwanted pregnancy (of childbearing age)
equipped with superhuman heft quit,
while erect phallus unable to lyft
uber penetration, no doubt miffed,
especially in throbbing throes far drift
from coital provenance, one agitated fitbit
feeling royally screwed
particularly virility predicated
on loose sing penile glue stick
within secrete slit.
crawling from the box he lived in
after finding the secret number in a smut rag
available to all who seek it out on the street,
he made his way to the seemingly abandoned building
where after hitting the buzzer, he was instructed to give
the password that had been allotted him on the phone prior &
up the grungy stairwell he went.
it took him five floors to get to the room whose glowing red light
steaming from under the pre-war door &
after entering, the darkened hallways let to a large room full of
carnivorous orgiastic wonder---
like something out of
“eyes wide shut,”
women of all shapes & sizes,
clad in PVC & leather,
carrying whips & toys
(not to mention handfuls of cash),
were leading men around to select hidden spots &
doors with big locks,
throughout the large apartment floor.
as where he found the funds to attend such a select gathering
was as much a secret as any of the names or faces of the men
wandering around with cocks stiff & eyes wide,
and so, knowing he wasn’t much different,
he made his way to sit down next to a woman stretched out &
waiting for the next fly to be wrapped up in her spider’s
web.
and while beginning to engage in exhibition,
another young woman in black lingerie walks by,
doing a double take,
for she realizes that he is someone who lives in her building,
in fact, he is someone who turned her down for a date a few weeks ago,
after getting her hopes up.
she walks back to look at him,
and when he makes eye contact,
his face becomes flush with embarrassment,
instantly acknowledging to himself that the person he was when he
turned this young woman down who is standing in front of him,
may not have been the same one who is sitting half-naked on a dark red couch
with another woman’s mouth on him.
the young woman walks up to him & tells him simply,
“please don’t tell anyone in the building that you saw me here,
i need the money”---
his response comes equal with the self that she sees &
all he can say is “maybe we can get together a little later, you look amazing in
that lingerie”---
shaking her head at him and smiling,
she walks away into the darkness of the hallway leading to the
dungeon.
she found the best pair of shoes,
she found the best pair of kicks,
she found a shirt that matched the both of
em’ &
she was just
ecstatic,
to say the least---
but somewhere along the way,
before she even wore the combo,
before she got to leave the house,
before she got to
live that new day
sparkling on the inside as the
madam of all
orgiastic
consumption,
the secret got out.
she couldn’t place her finger on it,
just what “friend” found out & then
spread the rumor,
but now every woman she knows,
has a sense of where she got her deals &
more importantly, if they chose to,
now every woman that she knows
can get clothing at those places & now,
this american consuming beauty
needs to go back to the drawing board,
armed with her plastic &
the anger welling up within
from having ever trusted
anyone.
Beating Hearts*Hearts Beating
beating drums with emotions seeping*seeping emotions with drums beating
fleeting vibrations thru silent keeping*keeping silent thru vibrations fleeting
thunder echoing with voices standing*standing voices with echoing thunder
under fading skies forever expanding*expanding forever skies fading under
hearts tangled within love strumming*strumming love within tangled hearts
parts rebreathing thru space humming*humming space thru rebreathing parts
whispers reverberating with ambiance*ambiance with reverberating whispers
shivers orgiastic thru desiring dalliance*dalliance desiring thru orgiastic shivers
chambers in chiming amidst throbbing*throbbing amidst chiming in chambers
layers tearing with turbulence sobbing*sobbing turbulence with tearing layers
pulsating hearts with endless motions*motions endless with hearts pulsating
mating bodies engaging upon devotions*devotions upon engaging bodies mating
sharing beats of symbolic love booming*booming love symbolic of beats sharing
baring breasts with eruptions fuming*fuming eruptions with breasts baring
fluttering hearts exploding into ecstasy*ecstasy into exploding hearts fluttering
sputtering ripples of spawning empathy*empathy spawning of ripples sputtering
This poem is what I call a BDHB...( backward double helix butterfly ) a first in the 'Mirrors of Infinity' collection.
...Ok, just messing with you...there is no such collection...only having fun with words...what! you thought there was such a thing?
Sept.07.2018
Write me an Emotion-act Poetry
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
Placed 1'st...[1'st of 2]
the (better late than never)
free admission confession, exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
treasured untold shenanigans of Santa,
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball, while additionally
besmirching her virginity via coital cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.