Brothel Poems

Sipping Tea at a Brothel

He pays.
He leaves.

And she bleeds quietly.



Some come for release,

others for control.

Some come to forget.

Some to remember.

Some to be punished.

Some just come because it’s cheap.



It's sin.

It’s not sin.

It’s survival.

It’s escape.

It’s addiction.

It’s barter.

It's bargain.

It's need.

It’s ritual.



Here, bodies are commodities.

Sold by the hour.

Measured by the weight, age and colour of the skin,

freshness of smile,

limpness of resistance.



It is commercialisation

Today I Will Wander To the Brothel

today i will wander to the brothel
those divine friends of Jesus
where i will intercourse
with the ladies in my growing Spanish
write some lines to ponder
while they wash clothes and bathe
i the balneologist with the brandy
we watch t.v. novellas
share laughter, sip the liquor
risibility creeping as jungle vines
laughing at and with the world
while summer's oppression lies outside
above the

Seven Young Prostitutes

Each of the seven prostitutes,
Whose life began as destitute;
From their brothels to a roadside,
For men with or without a ride:
Main wish: to catch the adult male 
And stop a day from going stale…

The picture is competition:
To whom would one loss petition?
Yes, a quite charged atmosphere 
For one to in chats interfere:
A rival swipe for being

A Mind Gone Blind

A look i took at her flesh
Waiting to see something fresh 
But fancied not the tissues
With which she had has issues...

In her mind lots had clustered,
For she had seemed quite flustered:
Might I roles play of Duster;
And I the courage muster?

Then, I sensed some brothel behind
Where she would paradise find...
But in reality life grind
And foulest Demons

Golden Brothel

Mind; O Beauty
My mind of thinking is autonomous
On this forlorn golden brothel

So, let's
Be wanderer
On this independent trunk of the sky
Like the goalless morning breezes

So, let's
Be traveler
On this independent chest of earth
Like the goalless ever-flowing stream of the river

So, let's
Be dreamer
In this independent brothel of the loving heart
Like the epoch maker verses of the classical poet

Chattogram

They Closed the Brothel

O brother, they closed the brothel!
Beer and barmaid breath is closed.
Banter with corsets and silk stockings
withheld - the downy frown of ‘stache.
The itch of a cattle drive — the rawhide
chaffed and fettered, 
all the while driven by unholy sex.
O brother, a frightful fight broke out
like measles planted from head to toe.
when you fantasized her soft

The Day They Closed the Brothel

 Homeless, destitute with nothing more then a backpack and cigarettes 
down the rabbit hole she went, no linen tablecloths just stricken wood,  
in a house of ill repute;.
She could not refuse the hunkering of a horny man who lived by threats 
so she counted her bills and tucked them in her brassiere with

That's When the Fight Began

They restricted celebrations,
forget your relations.

They restricted travel,
watched families unravel.

They restricted purchases,
no provided services.

They closed the schools,
those were the new rules.

They closed the churches,
no Sunday soul searches.

They closed the gyms
and the flab begins.

They closed the restaurants,
forget sweet tooth wants.

They closed the theaters,
no full-length features.

They closed retail stores,
no welcoming doors.

They closed the bars,
murmurs of wars.

Society accepted it

Brothel Shuttered

limp roses
        blue boots, vinyl, knee length
hair extensions braided like sun-rings
pleasure knick knacks 
        perfume bottles
lacey things that hug the bodice
under garments, lipstick smudged
        stained dentures
        wrappers

They Closed the Brothel Gates

They closed the Brothel gates
This were the sex workers fate
Her life paused a world refrains 
Where are the folk who abstain
Are you thinking how they sustain.

Ngo’s step in to cater to their needs
No income in these narrow lanes
The walls now closing in as it contains
Mouth covered Kajal smarts her eyes as she stares
Haunting in her

We Closed the Brothel

We closed the brothel, by a love gesture
Fortuitous, when our soul did mature
Blunting oldest profession, not simple
Call it if we will, divine miracle
Earths magnetic field shift, caused hearts to stir

Ray divine, propelled us to realms upper
Mankind shed off feral caricature
Now, love enabled, cognition spherical 
We closed the brothel

Schumann’s resonance rise, made our hearts purr
All living

They Closed the Brothel

They close the brothe
This is good it be not awful
Those single and married men
Misbehaving 
What, what on their knees preying 
utmost wedding night delaying 
Does a single man need a marriage bed l
No no way fornication adulteration
Women for pleasure elongated legs 
The church mother's got'cha
They closed the brothel
Women who are spurned utmost does 
Does the

The Brothel Within

the fire of lust
consuming our soul
enslaved by carnal desire
testosterone driven lowly ghoul

desire birthing raging obsession
our mind dwelling in a brothel
addicted like an alcoholic 
to sexual cravings feral

animal in human form
in this game of domination
finally discerning love from lust
in stillness of prayerful meditation 

recognising senses have two aspects
we attempted polarity rotation
between outer and inner
in void of

They Closed the Brothel

First it was pubs that weren’t open,
And then shops that were not essential,
And then even schools weren’t admitting,
But to me that’s inconsequential.
Cos I haven’t got school age children,
But worried hotels were closed too
If I needed some company later,
What would me and others now do?
I called them, the voicemail the answer,
It said they were closed for

They Closed the Brothel

there is a brothel there down the street,
built like a palace three stories high,
hear anklets jingle on dancing feet,
with singing and drums as you pass by.

I have chanced within once as a youth,
to savour pleasures of sinful flesh,
in wine and smoke did not see the truth,
the tormented souls trapped in evil mesh.

pretty they who were

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