Musing through its morning haze, the jungle mountain begs for my infatuation. A nearby dog fails to resume its circular rhetoric and something closes the eye. Silence descends like fresh oil, drizzling through my rebellious long hair and down across my zippered lips. My kingdom can go to hell. Behind the closed another opens as the child hears the jungle morning shift talking to Aioue about today’s purity. A minimalist’s symphony. In suspended moments, I am the mountain. I don’t need Jesus. I am Jesus. Neither son nor father, husband or mystic. I am. Silence drips down like fresh oil. Virgin nectar. One dangling drop at the end of my nose, mightily pausing the unsilent inevitable.
A ticking clock or a buggered marriage. Another dog mounts its bully pulpit. Cigarette smoke from the contractors next door gang rape the virgin jungle jasmine. The party is over.
Was it besmirchment or carnal knowledge?
Innocence is lost
Or reality is found
I cannot say which
What’s happening is clearly understood.
Apollo has one hand around her waist,
one predator, one quarry, interlaced.
He’s coming up behind her (which is good),
but she’s a tree (two lovers, getting wood!)
She’d rather change her state than be disgraced,
preferring to be chaste than to be chased.
She’s choosing abstinence, above life's blood.
Is love a trauma, to be undergone?
Arousal something ugly, to be faced?
Should Nature’s process be looked down upon?
The carnal act, a tactless lapse of taste?
Or might the thing be ardently embraced?
We, formless fragments, merging in The One?
We had Gumby
and Pokey,
And Sanford & Son.
We had Mark Spitz,
And Monty Python.
We had Lenny Bruce,
And Chips.
We had the Sex Pistols,
And A Ballroom Blitz.
We had Martin Scorsese,
And Happy Days.
We had the
Stepford Wives,
And Roe VS Wade.
We had What's up Doc,
and the Rockford files.
We had Gay Pride Parade,
and I can see for miles.
We had Women's Lib,
And Emergency.
We had One Flew Over
The Cuckoo's Nest,
And Mohamed Ali.
We had A Star is Born,
And little Chinatown.
We had Jesus
Christ Superstar,
And Foxy Brown.
We had the VCR
And Adam-12.
We had White Lightning,
and Josey Wales.
We had the Gay
Rights movement,
And Dragnet.
We had the Deer Hunter,
and Stanley Kubrick.
We had the Iran hostage crisis,
and a Six-million-dollar man.
We had Carnal Knowledge,
And The Stand.
We had the
Mississippi Queen
And Tony Orlando.
We had Abba singing
about Fernando.
We had Mick Jagger,
And John Wayne.
We had Rare Earth,
And Fire and Rain.
Turbo1904 ?
When twin souls peak in godly intercourse,
love's neither then so deadly nor so baneful!
Invite another in like a Trojan horse,
and the experience truly might be painful.
If torrid lovers can't forgive or forbear,
then carnal knowledge dies in hate and vice,
as heav'n and hell disintegrate in warfare,
and wanton lovers flee from wrath like mice.
For the life of me, and others all
How did people, heed that call?
Who cry; that faith in Christ if blind?
Would hamper freedom/choice of mind.'
Yet sonorous blasts on death and gloom
Were watched piecemeal in every room
So many put such, faith in flesh '
To me a challenge; although I'm blest '
Lord thank you for the others here
Who still, stand strong g'ainst pure fear.'
We know of honeyed lies, untruth
The graphic claims no depth, too uncouth'
And from their filth they call out still
Would you become a minion?
Can they break your will?
intoxicated by entwined souls,
breasts beating, breathing
in the amalgamation of us.
trust in lips, tongues, stress
of otherworldly communication.
neo-occasion of bare skin,
slightly shy, surrendering
to the shift and slide—
sensuality played portentously…
innocence irrigated…
blind.
intoxicated by the itch;
you scratch
my back like a kitten.
my feet and knees
find your warm precipices
of carnal knowledge.
together we learn
there’s an inner universe;
exploration
of mysterious habitation.
in practice, in habit
tingling of dendrites
over and over again.
intoxication’s jealous—
jumps for joy
at your touch…
knows where your headed
north or south…
intoxicated by extremes,
the shudder of sensuality,
shamelessness of dreaming
in your bed, calling only
your name, stamped
with approval— our’s,
story comes to
a climactic conclusion—
Your Welcome.
9/9/2021
“I'' Contest New or Old
Sponsor: Constance La France
Play music, can dance
Observe old body on floor
Shake the world slowly
Love is like a rose
In time it shines the world's heart
out of time it dies
Mountain brook sings songs
Like solitary reaper
None, but lovers hear
in the cage of mountain flocks
the elegant scenery of predecessor lives
in the waist of the mountain brook
the sweet melody of left love lives
in the lap of flowing river
the endless life of saintly love lives
in the blowing lane of autumnal breeze
the salacious tone of winter lives
in the sky-way of flying birds
the intoxicated mind of solitary beloved lives
None possesses time
It's independent, endless;
Wisdom- friends only
Alone mind builds up
Carnal knowledge of the world
Breathing minutes die
Life, death and knowledge
Anthem of world's existence
Weaving love passion
14.10.2020 Chattogram
LUST
flesh screaming of sin
found pleasures deepening skin
raising body heat within
escaping passion
carnal knowledge attraction
attaining satisfaction
volcanic fluxion
viral viewing seduction
stimulating consumption
sexual craving
concupiscence behaving
eroticism enslaving
magic hypnotic
display actions exotic
thirst and hunger demonic
5-7-7 Syllable count
...can also be read backward~just saying
Music by Ariana Grande - 'Dangerous Woman'
Oct.15.2018
One of The Seven Deadly Sins
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Placed 1'st
[7'th of 15]
Thus I sail the sacrificial scabrous seas and touch tormented tides
Battle-scarred in the breeze and washed ashore where evil hides
The Sun regrettably retreats where malice mortals digressively dare
Walking barren saliferous streets where I live on a penniless prayer
The citadels of submission crucially crumble where they saintly stand
In their unholy cognition you are a slave to their carnivorous command
Embedded in stone my tangential tears will endure beyond the grave
Bludgeoned to the brutal bone by the unlawful carnal knowledge knave
Lost in oblivion my blood runs calamitously cold by the river's edge
Beware the Ophidian with sabotaging scales leaving you on the ledge
Deceivers of the realm punitive penetrators connivers as they clutch
They manipulate and overwhelm with their torturous tender touch.
Let's stop the abuse...and spread the real love
Aug.01.2017
Let's talk about it
Sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux
1 original, poem on the theme of abuse, emotional, sexual or physical.
Any form is acceptable.
Oh, you’re a club-tie glad-hand social climber
If e'er there were one, Milo Minderbinder
A meticulous craft, your quest for domination
Your smile so bowed, so proud of your lofty station
Your well-known carnival of carnal knowledge
A cornucopia of knowing carnage
The next home remodel, a newer, younger model
stole into your wine cellar, then uncorked the bottle
The old ball and chain got chained, and bald, and old
From divorce, then cancer, then down the six foot hole.
But none will sue when you’re under your newest Nun
God’s Son knew, nothing new under the sun
Skipping blithely through fortune’s emerald fields
Shh! Do you hear karma at your heels?
5/30/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Revised 10/1/24
"Modern Sonnet"--couplet rhymes, loose with the metric feet
THE browning Version
ET> Unstrung heros Premonition
Enemy of the State
Good will hunting
Mystery, Alaska The family man
Galaxy Quest Hook ghost busters
CARNAL KNOWLEDGE
5 easy pieces Last American Hero
WITNESS
High fidelity
PULP FICTION
HEIST
Waterworld The Big Lebowski
GO TO WHITE CASTLE---DEAD PRESIDENTS
the scarlet letter
Nixon
3,000 miles to Graceland
Luke 11:9
The accidental sea
See how it washes over me.
How the waves struggle against the shore.
Leaving the sea far behind in its wake
The clouds are beckoning them ashore.
The moon pushes them on even further
What secret knowledge holds it in place?
Kiss by kiss you uncover its secret
As we then partake in carnal knowledge.
She glides over him like a butterfly on its first wings.
The accidental sea.
See how it washes over me.
How the waves snuggle against the shore.
Leaving the sea far behind in its wake
The clouds are beckoning them ashore.
The moon pushes them on even further.
What secret knowledge holds it in place?
Kiss by kiss you uncover its secret.
As we then partake in carnal knowledge.
She glides over him like a butterfly.
As the moon watches over them from her perch.
Watch how the waves snuggle against the shore.
For dark are the secrets we keep.
I want to know which version sounds better. 1 or 2. OR, Should I combine them? I wrote them Wednesday night 3 / 4/ 2015
How the thought of her smiling, sick, rude face
repels me. What ever was I thinking?
My time lost in her sickening embrace
was loathsome, base, gross, foul, vile, and stinking!
O, why gave I myself to one so whorish?
So eager was I to love; young, naive,
and simple, I failed to see then how boorish
she was—so blinded was I to receive
her. In hindsight, I would undo the past,
and remain forevermore a virgin—
pure, and chaste! No shame's in that; but the waste
of not reserving myself was my sin.
For me, carnal knowledge came at great price;
I've learned my lesson, and I'll not err twice!
FINGERS
An ultimate reach to the tips of desire,
That heavenly touch
Overrules the mind, sets afire
Salesman, preacher, teacher,
All circle, point, sign,
Being quite unconscious of their design
Fingers may travel a path of their own,
Having shape, body, joints,
Purpose down to the bone
And when all that’s left is final reflex,
Warmth, carnal knowledge gone,
The very tips will bid adieu before one moves along
Dave Austin
9toes
The bloody 9toes needed boots,
Cos he had just nine toes,
Big toe in the back wheel had slipped,
Push bike has caused his woes,
got him for carnal knowledge, Merle,
But all he dug was dirt,
Riding the ten bob, dollar, Shirl,
Poor will got bruised an hurt,
Later on he went way north,
To get another lady,
The bridge crossed was fifty feet below,
Got airborne flying maybe,
Cunnamulla fella, buried him,
The local ladies wept,
Nine toes had now crossed the styx,
And Charon was perplexed …
Don Johnson
Sub Categories
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