TOWER OF BABEL

 

 

And when you took my tower

Between your moist, warm lips

While I anointed your perfumed altar

With my consecrated tongue,

I became totally speechless

And you were dumbstruck.

All we could utter were moans

And groans–a confusion of tongues,

The Babel language of love.

 

HOW DO I LUST THEE?

(With apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

 

How do I lust thee?

Let me count the ways.

 

I lust thee when thou

Art on top of me.

 

I lust thee when I

Am on top of thee.

 

I lust thee face to face

Or even from behind.

 

I lust thee when thy

Lips anoint my rod.

 

I lust thee when my tongue

Crawls to thy far country.

 

I lust thee sideways

Or come bed weather.

 

How do I lust thee?

Let me count the ways.

 

BIRD-WATCHING IN CHICO

(Honorable Mention Award, Anthology Magazine

 2001 Poetry & Prose Contest, Mesa,  Arizona,)

 

Sprawled like a cool cat outside Has Beans

Cafe while sipping at my second refill

Of strong Brazilian black coffee on this

Laid back summer afternoon, I watch,

Through the corner of my eye, a legion

Of pretty girls passing by, some of them

Sporting a tattoo or two of their moment’s

Fancy which, like scars, will leave a glorious

Permanent record on the annals of

Their white, black or brown epidermis.

 

The first tattoo I ever saw on a female

In this town at extreme close up was

A snarling wolf in living color, its fangs

Gleaming, ready to pounce at me from

The upper right thigh–about three inches

From the delta of Venus–of a vibrant

Blue-eyed blonde in her mid-twenties.

Another girl, a rap and rant poet,

Proudly bared her exotic tattoo

Of an Aztec-inspired tangerine sun

 

Shining on her freckled stomach and

A large emerald-colored leaf etched upon

Her lower left thigh. Then there is my secret

Beatrice with a cute two-inch blue tattoo

Of a musical note on the right back part

Of her waist. Now I spot this stunning

Redhead who clicks her high-heeled boots

As she walks by, but nobody dares gift

Her with a wolf whistle or proposition

This dreaded illustrated bitch who wears

 

Invisible tattoos of dragons, gargoyles

And a host of other grotesque creatures

Of her hang ups and traumas all over

The skin of  her green phosphorescent soul.

She is a walking encyclopedia

Of despair–a wounded man-eater and

Hardcore misogamist. Peruse the flaming

Words tattooed on the upper part of her crotch:

Beware all ye lovers who enter here,

This is the slippery shortcut to hell.

 

BIBLICAL SEX

 

It said

to the dame

with a hiss

bite this

 

She said

to her man

it’s super

have some

 

He said

why don’t the

three of us

have a ball?

 

The angel said

get lost

do your number

elsewhere

 

CACTUS INTERRUPTUS

 

Do you enjoy the way

I ram my cactus

In your orchid?

 

Do it gently

So my orchid

Won’t bleed.

 

To be safe

I’ll rid my cactus

Of its spines.

 

Please don’t!

I want my pistil

To be tickled.

 

I must stop now.

I might do damage

To your orchid.

 

That settles it!

Go find yourself

A Venus’ flytrap.

 

DARWINIAN SEX

 

Man evolved

From the apes.

Love evolved

From lust.

 

DATING GAME

 

When romantic

meets romantic

it’s idyllic

 

When romantic

meets platonic

it’s tragic

 

When erotic

meets erotic

it’s orgasmic

 

When sadistic

meets sadistic

it’s horrific

 

When sadistic

meets masochistic

it’s electric

 

Be pragmatic.

Do not date

any kind of tic.

 

FORBIDDEN IMAGE

 

We often did it

In front of the tilted

Mirror, reflecting

All conceivable

Angles of desire.

Lately, I simply refuse

To gaze in the mirror,

Fearing that our forbidden

Intimate image is still trapped

There while I am looking

From the outside like

A born-again voyeur, alone.

Now that you have gone

To the arms of someone.

 

FUTURISTIC SEX

 

“I-am-programmed-

  to-blow-your-mind-

  in-ten-million-ways”

  she said in a metallic voice.

 

“What-is-your-preference:

  Around-the-Cosmos,

  69-69-69-69.

  the-Black-Hole-Special,

  or-the-Kinky-Milky-Way?

 

“I’ve tried them all.

  Let’s have something

  Different,” he said.

“Like some good old

  pre-holocaust tactile

 delights like kissing,

 petting and holding hands.”

 

“Sorry-such-programming-

  is-not-in-my-command-system-

  she said. “Please-request-

  the-company-for-

  the-most-primitive-model.”

 

GENESIS

 

O shiva and shakti

 

            dancing

 

the Kama Sutra

 

             what coupling

 

           divine

 

O cosmic shaft of light

 

                  phallus-point

             

      deflowering

     

the Black Hole’s

 

                   maidenhead

 

O tongue of Genesis

 

                         licking

 

the dark, erect

 

                              nipples of Time

 

                     laid bare

 

       in Eternity

 

       O universe exploding

 

                            climax celestial

 

            fission of Yin and Yang

 

                            the Big bang

 

             Brahma’s orgasm

 

O fertilizing

 

                 the swirling

 

                 womb of Space

 

                 with the sperm of stars,

 

                 planets, men and animals.

 

As above

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So below

 

JOYLESS SEX

 

He makes love

like a robot.

She makes love

like a puppet.

To them sex is just

a mechanical

assembly-line

affair like

riveting metal

plates, or the push

and pull of

well-oiled pistons.

 

LABORATORY SEX

 

The mice do it

The monkeys do it

The rats do it

The rabbits do it

The technician

And the scientist do it

The janitress and

The security guard do it

 

MEDIEVAL SEX

 

He did it

with his full

armor on

 

She did it

wearing her

chastity belt

 

No wonder

they called it

the Dark Ages

 

NARCISSISTIC SEX

 

He makes love

to a pool

of water.

She makes love

to a clear

mirror.

No wonder

the two don’t

make love

together.

 

ORGASMIC POEM

 

Some love it

Some hate it

Some brave it

Some fear it

Some expect it

Some forget it

Some feel it

Some fake it

Some talk about it

Some are mum about it

Some live on it

Some die on it

 

PLEASURE DOMES

 

There are secret

Pleasure domes in

The human brain

O when caressed by

The velvety fingers

Of electricity

Make every body

Convulse with

 

Nirvana of the flesh.

These Xanadus

Of ecstasy are

Three, namely:

The thalamus,

The hypothalamus

And the mesencephalon.

Fondle any of these

 

My dearest and prestoooh!

You get total

Titillation

At the magic touch

Of a button.

Now where is the fool

Who says that lust

Isn’t cerebral?

 

PSYCHOLOGICAL SEX

 

Sex is all

in the mind

Sex is not

of the flesh

Sex is pure

imagination

Sex is not

a Freudian slip

 

SECRET LIFE

 

After our lovemaking,

After the post-coital

Angst, I rise and sit

Precariously by the bed’s edge

As if it were a precipice,

And gazing down at the green-colored

Carpeted floor as if

It were a forbidden valley.

I see slacks, skirts, underwear

And two pairs of shoes strewn about

In total disarray.

I suddenly realize

How impatient love is

That leads a double life.

 

SEX MACHINE

 

He is a wonderful

sex machine

He runs on the cheap

fuel of lust

 

He is a wonderful

sex machine

He’s so durable

with few moving parts

 

He is a wonderful

sex machine

The more he overheats

the better he performs

 

He is a wonderful

sex machine

His shocks are heavy-duty

so smooth the ride

 

He is a wonderful

sex machine

He’s power steering

and has an overdrive

 

He is a wonderful

sex machine

That horny women

drive like crazy

 

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF LOVE

 

And after our passion is spent,

After the push and pull,

The successive thrusts

Of my beasthood

In your wound of desire;

After your sighs,

 

After my moans,

And after your muffled cry,

Until in ecstasy we die–

Our naked arms and legs

Entangled like the roots

Of lascivious trees;

 

We rest momentarily

And recharge our sweating bodies.

Then you whisper in my ear

That you love me still,

Confirms my suspicion

That the love we cherish

 

Has a split personality,

A case of tender violence;

That love and lust

Are strange bedfellows,

That the absence of one

Cancels out the other.

 

TOURIST ATTRACTION

 

When I saw the Eiffel Tower

For the first time–that

Criss-crossing tumescent steel–

I was so overcome with awe

At such an architectural wonder

Which I saw in the mind’s-eye

As a giant phallus assaulting

The blue maidenhood of sky.

Like any well-behaved tourist,

I kept the secret to myself,

Lest I be arrested by a hawk-eyed

Gendarme for illegal possession

Of a pornographic metaphor.

 

YOU ARE BEYOND EUCLIDEAN GEOMETRY

 

Axioms:

The supple curves of your brown body

Defy Euclid’s cold geometry.

Can a pefect circle compare with

The delectable arcs of your breasts?

How can impotent calipers measure

The moist diameters of your kisses?

 

Most of all, there is no bright triangle

That can equal the wilderness between

Your thighs, whose hypotenuse is beyond

Frigid theorems and postulates:

Thus requiring Love’s plain geometry

To define its axioms of ecstasy.

 

SEX TALK

 

They always talk

about sex

They discuss sex

in explicit terms

But sex at best

is implied

Sex is better done

than said

 

THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST

 

The number of

the beast is

not six six six

 

The number 

Of the beast is

sex sex sex

 

YOU

 

You are

the centerfold

of my

wettest dreams