the last sin
  pale ashen sky
a bleary eye
clouds of recurring screams...
i am a zoo
  an octopus leviathan
tentacles into an ocean
of unformed emotions...
syphilis and love  
  syphilitic pall
stifles the clear blue
i contort...
shell and pearl
  amidst highs and lows
in life's ocean flows
a shell peony-mouthed...
i am an unmarried mother
  fed on stings
of barbed milk morality
my child-plankton...
the lovers
  cell upon cell
bridge of their union
hung on the pillars...
  ogre of age
and time cavil
at a warm picture...
the young today
  innocence thaws
at the altar
of ambition...

Pure Babe

the night is at its freezing best
somewhere on the Tien Shan ranges
snowflakes are falling
like diffused cotton balls
Issyk-kul lake brooding mystifying
disdainful a Manasarovar clone
in faraway Kyrgyzstan
is watched over by the tall
shadows of our conscience
at home street dogs have gone
and curled up under a heap
of dried tree leaves in the backdrop
of Humayun’s tomb
a world heritage site
and a restorer of balance
meanwhile he is on his travels
in the neon lit space
the Copacabanas of Geneva
nightclubs with a façade
of a fresh fruit cocktail
and the mandatory dance
before the tryst
this is a world that mirrors
the real but is more free
unbound from the lateral composition
of pain suffering and pleasure
untied to sadism
and sadomasochistic delights
a paradise for soul oglers

in one of the rooms he meets her
there is more than usual activity here
she is shaped like an Indus Valley
mother goddess pristine white skin
pure as the frozen waters of lake placid
sporting a bright orange G string
displaying her ample but taut butt
to lost souls searching for their other half
questing to undo the revenge of the Zeus
who split the original being into two
by a lightening bolt
here the attempt is to recreate the myth
electronic energy unites disparate bodies
cheerleaders to a fault they egg her on
babe cup your breasts
squeeze those hardened nipples
what’s that aglow in the dark
niches of your suburban vale
ah a mother of pearl clit ring
the shining armour of the
treasure-trove oh merciful lady
amidst the crescendo of phallic bugles
she produces a latex lingam
not without reason christened dildo
and begins to probe the edges
of her satin slowly it gives way
and it’s her grotto
--salvation of the masses--
not of the Lourdes
but her personal art form
jumpin’ jack rabbit nibbles feverishly
ridiculous morphs into sublime
and then the samudra manthan
revisited pixel by pixel
there…there can you see
the cream dripping
the squirting of fulfilment
captured digitally
welcome to the pleasure dome

in another world a 23 year old
Brazilian waif in search of adventure
and truth is belted on her bottom
by an English executive
with an ‘icy glint’ in his third eye
gagged and handcuffed she cries out
has a gut wrenching soul stirring orgasm
and discovers but a shade of self
the triumph of the principle
behind self-flagellation
the low hanging fruit
of the exploration of one’s limits
next day her painter friend
keen to re-ignite the ‘light’ in her
makes her walk barefoot on stones
next to the lake on the Road to Santiago
nirvana for the believer journeyman
natural pain is a healer
while unnatural a pretender
waiting in the wings
desperate to dissolve
the thin line that separates
desire and depravity
sex and sacred sex
Virgin Mary the blessed
and Mary Magdalene the whore

‘what is more important in life
living or pretending to live?’

pure babe
just be

(11 January 2004)