Those hands and lips that did me much pleasure
That tongue that roamed living me in a state of leisure
You were my drug, my dose of ecstasy
In moments passion I look down upon our bodies
joined as one and I crave this eternity

But is it fate for me?
Is it meant to be?
So says fate

“Nay, only futility
Sure sex is sweet fruit yet as candy too much-too bad for the tooth”

The taste of your juice- mouth, skin and down under
The feel of you, my mind and body shudder-I wonder
could you be my thunder?
If so then I seek for it to Rrrain forever!!!
My avenging angel by Eros sent to subdue my cares
momentarily as we mesh undoubtedly in the bosom of ecstasy

bigstock-Love-in-text-15394607I wanting you, you wanting me, this just has to be Lo… Ust!
So where is the Love?
Question that echoes ever so faintly as we fashion our interpretation of “Love”

bigstock-Lust-44528956Please make a way for fate to say we are worthy
To lose you would hurt me
What to do with these feelings that corrupt me
Cursed ’cause I’m craving your body
while true love is on the high seas…


Ligo Haibun Challenge- Dewdrops


“…for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground, but there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground.” – Genesis 2:5&6

She longs to catch a glimpse of what might have been…

Rising long before the Sun,  just as creation made her, she steps out of her abode and onto the freshly cut lawn- The silent twilight greeting her.

Only moments outside, yet all too quickly her skin is wrapped in  perspiration, not of her own but Gaya’s- Fresh and cool; Wet grass embracing her feet- The total experience causing her to shiver… She’s cold. Finally bearing witness to Genesis 2:6The Mist that waters the face of the Earthlay thick in the atmosphere and all around her.

She stills her naked body in the middle of the open space and is cloaked by the light fog around her; Eyes closed, she fills her lungs with Gaya’s cold breath- Embracing the silence of the slowly coming Morn.

…. In that moment she is in Eden.

Tears mix with Dewdrops...
 Insanity born from faith
 ...Her faith... her madness.
Ligo Haibun Challenge- Dewdropsligo-challenge_logo

Melt – The Līgo Haībun Challenge

4:00 P.M– Just getting off work, she races down the road and towards the Bus stop. She’s almost there, but NOT- then her bus begins to move. She arrives at the spot only to meet the butt of the vehicle fading into the corner of the street, that would mean an hour and a half of her waiting for another transit in her direction. Frustrated, she curses. Its lonely at the station so a walk in the cannabis field is the perfect remedy for her foul mood. Sitting in a waiting chair, legs crossed, she reaches into her bag for a stick; Lights it up and drags-

In goes the poison and out her frustration.

The session is almost heavenly. Melting in her seat she  tastes the evening breeze. Dreamily she pays attention as the light from her stick illuminate in the evening hue, its soft feathery haze lifting through the atmosphere;

Inhale, Exhale

Her nerves untwine as the intoxicating odor of perspiration, hers, mixed with fumes of the slowly diminishing stick fills her nostrils. Utter bliss as she sits melted in her waiting chair-  Even the wind amongst the trees offer the symphony of Handel’s Messiah… or is that just in her head? …


From euphoric dance
  Toots from a horn break the spell  
  ...Damn reality!


New Challenge for 2013 but I still have love for my people at the dVerse bar 😉

Thanks Captain!!!! 🙂

Ligo Haibun Challenge here


***The Līgo Haībun Challenge normally has a word limit of up to 220 words or less inc the haiku***



Haībun is Prosimetric writing. The haībun format for the Līgo Haībun Challenge is as follows ~

paragraph (more than one paragraph is fine,or justa few sentences) in prose form of either

  • a descriptive passage , or excerpt from a story/or previously published post 
  • a tale
  • a travelogue
  • a news item
  • a recipe


the haiku to close


An untitled dream work…

How do I tell a story of night, what words would truly express the moment’s horror? Lend me your thoughts and I will borrow you my imagination, if only for you to experience fully the act that is to ensue.
This is a story of  one, once man…
Now immortal…
One cursed…

(play as you read)

Steal away with me into the night

to a Bastion beyond  many hills, where

darkness looms, time stands still

a realm of the no longer beating heart

to the land of  a damned immortal

… a creatures of the night

Walk with me through these dark corridors

Hold your torch o so tightly…

Its fainting walls whispering tales of centuries

Weakened structures caked with dust

Listen to the moaning winds…

or could it be the many ghosts that hunt its halls?

Into the belly of the fortress we make our  way,

Down winding stairways,

through darkened passages

Hold your torch O so tightly…

Come to rest at the foot of iron gates, shut.

Peer through the gaps to find a  roofless chamber

its filthy, cracked walls bare no corners.

Moon beams pierce the darkness of this dungeon devoid of shade.

At first sight  we see nothing but space and time,

a visiting rodent sneaks a look through the cracks.

Focus still and bring your attention to the heap of ash on the stoney grounds.

Ashes  and Silence…

A scream suddenly breaks through the hush

Shrieks that make even the moaning winds give ear

The remains slowly taking form.

Life reaching  from the depths of hell

… or is it… life?


as dust is molded into flesh and bone.

With every capillary formed, for

every flesh mounted are the painful howls 

and constricting twists and turns…

FINALLY! … Finally, returns the hush,

the transformation lay still and

we hear the winds resume its tales

The object becomes animate, as

though awoken from Hades grip.

Sitting erect, the being looks towards the gate, towards

you and I

Behold the paleness of his face, his

eyes cold as death and yet divulging torment, and

with such deep sorrow he says

This is my fate did you know

to be cursed as Prometheus

Yet even he bore a better fate than I.

For I already damned am therefore damned a second time.

Once man, now soulless creature of evening…

He sites his noble visitor making its way back into the cracks

and with the agility of a lioness he pounces.

The meal he finishes all too quickly.

Signaling in our direction he speaks once again

You would be my first choice but for these accursed bars…

hence reduced to a scavenger am I…

His emaciated form circles the room in an almost zombie like manner

He awaits the Sun…

I await the sun…

The night sky,

She is beautiful is she not?

Day light greets me and

yet I can say very light of it majesty but

plenty of its horror

In this  prison, naked to the sky

condemned am I to be tortured as Helios rages on.

My flesh melts before my very eyes

and what is left of my soul is torn to a thousand pieces

His laments, shrill…

What would Prometheus know of pain?!

Zeus is less a devil than my captor!… These walls!

O that my ashes be scattered to the four winds to end my suffering!


His monologue is halted by the flicker of light from the east.

Dawn approaches, and

with it his executioner … A ball of fire

His eyes resume the horror from the moment he woke

Now frantically  wandering the room as though in search of a place to hide,

Psychological torture besest him as he envisages the pain soon to come.

We watch as though through a peep hole  of a sanitarium, this

tortured soul kicking and screaming, violently

throwing himself against the chamber walls

(…. So this is the cause of such filth and wreckage)

No white, softly padded walls to cushion his impact,

No straight jacket to prevent him cutting and scratching, that

he does in order to sensitize himself towards the impending affliction.

With the last vestige of courage he raises his voice:


 He then curls up like a child in where he best assumes a corner

as one defeated.

Cradling himself he mutters:

No more, No more…

The Sun slowly bearing its face, its

rays descend the Vampire’s uncovered tomb.

Cradling even faster,

His words more audios





Witness his backward transition

Melting flesh and bone,

to blood,

to ash.

Torturous screams return this shredded soul once again to temporary death.

A heap of dust once more, Silence

fills the room

Helios smiles down on what is left of our performer

As all the world is a stage

We applaud, You and I, and

then depart through the dark and twisted maze

of imagination’s fort.

Hold your torch o so tightly

“Everything you can imagine is real.”
Pablo Picasso


Nay not ever the same, seized
From Gaya’s bosom, snatched
As she slumbered, luminosity
And then a pause, theories of
Time dismissed as time becomes abyss.

Celestial captors poking-prodding, she
Much ado’s about nothing, mentally
Floating, dreamy sensations cold as death-hot
As hell, barely conscious she dreams of
Beaming lights, silhouettes of demons
Peering over her naked form, Fighting
her unconsciousness, a scared lab rat
Nibbling at its cage.

No recollection, yet the stimuli of
trial and error she suffers, faceless fiends
having their way with mortality, all
In the name of curiosity, casting
Aside mere sapiens at whim, returning
Them to theoretical reality, such is she
Chucked back into the ordinary without
Memory, yet she is nay, not ever the same….

Victoria is discussing Enjambment and Steampunkery on dVerse Poets so I’ve written this “WEIRD PIECE” as an enjambment (I HOPE! 😀 … Not quite clear about this form just yet). I am very open to healthy criticism so please, don’t be a stranger 🙂
Cheers! 😉

It happened somewhere in the red light district….

A chaste brethren lay fallen tonight
in a corner room, in a district of red light

Wondering on actions that lead to this
the moment still fresh, he reminisce

Like delicate orbs wrapped in silken case
Delicious juices her carriages laced

The sweetest nectar from her breasts did he taste
To ecstasy’s gates his sensations raced

As though Lucid but still awake
In her fountains he finds his honey filled lake

His very first of such experience met,
skill in her torso turns him flounder in her net

Caution to the wind; mind set on fire
as he bites of the forbidden fruit in mindless desire

Finally an end comes to all good things
now on his back, the angel with broken wings

Tortured by the thought of a night passion’s end
with this lady of the night with a baby to tend

A photograph taken of the Red Light District i...

A photograph taken of the Red Light District in Amsterdam. It is also known as the “Wallen”. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Those Five Little Words… No, Six!


 I thought the human race being the intelligent creatures we are, usually invent and come up with the easiest and shortest ways around  situations!? We got tired of candles, someone invented the light bulb; We got tired of walking, people started coming up with all modes of transportation. In the new age of texting we’ve come up with slangs such as “brb” , “ttyl” and “lol” just so we don’t have to go through the rigors of bogus words and sentences (yawning lazily); Microchips have shrunken to the Nano and so on…. So how is it that a simple 3 word sentence like “I love you” gets to be stretched out to one of 5 or 6 words instead? Well I have a theory…

The Player of the Middle Ages

It turns out that the phrase “fall in love” is  connected to the idea of “falling head over heels,” which was used in the 1300s, and is another term for being struck suddenly by great romantic attraction to someone else. (Excerpt from wisegeek.com)

The key phrase here is “Romantic attraction” people. What is that?! You either love the person or you don’t! Or why not just say “I’m romantically attracted to you”, and quit confusing people? Its all based on chemicals I tell you!

Okay back to the subject matter… my theory of the origin of this appalling modification.

Well there is no easy way for me to say this but if this sentence can actually be linked back to the 1300s then I believe it was coined up by some womanizing Knight, for some unfortunate fair maiden. No, scratch that! More a Troubadour than a Knight…. or maybe he was both.

In his bid to woo this fair lady he will do all he can to win her affection but his honor will not allow him speak those  3 sacred words in deceit. It would be sacrilege! (…maybe he’s a Knight after all)

There’s the option of him saying “I lust you”, but then in an era of chivalry such as his, he has no intention of devaluing the virtue of his one night stand, not verbally anyway. He writes her shams of love letters and poetry telling her how beautiful she is; How the shape of her eyes reminds him of stars and all that jazz, but the player still doesn’t score. This maiden is a hard nut to crack, a challenge, but he will not back down! (…definitely a Knight!)

The situation calls for drastic measures. He now realises how desperately he has to incorporate the sacred words into his libretto or else risk losing out on this conquest. A bulb lights up in his head. Eureka!

(The Victorian Player)

Down on one knee; her hand in his, he speaks the words ….”I am in Love with You”.


The maiden is flustered. She takes the bate all because somewhere in that sentence she hears I, Love and You. Its a happy day for both parties. She goes away feeling that she has the heart of a man now and he goes away with the experience of them doing the nasty somewhere in the woods or perhaps even in a barn.

They probably meet the next day and he pretends like nothing has transpired between them, and when she asks about his words of love he then repeats his statement s-l-o-w-l-y, adding that it was actually a declaration of his “Burning desire”. She really can’t argue with his defense so I’m guessing she ends up throwing herself off a bridge or something… And so birthed the era of damage and heartbreak all because of 5, no, 6 little words. The invention of this lengthier statement has however aided a cult of people since then. Till this very day, in the wrong hands it is one of the most valued weapons used in hurting the vulnerable heart.

Casanova may have got all the credit for being the god father of womanizers but trust me, the faceless individual with the gumption to come up with a sentence so strong, so passionate, so intense would definitely have bagged a whole lot more chicks than dear  Giacomo.

But I think I would have done it even better… Why waste time thinking up new sentences when all you need do is say “I LOVE YOU”, fingers crossed?


“Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart, or burn down your house, you can never tell.”

-Joan Crawford

The words of a foreign body

She’s crying again, her vibrating sobs seem to echo through. There’s talk  about doctors and pills and how time seems to be running out. I can feel the build up of tension as it invades my space, voices raise as the conversation reaches its climax and then something slams shut. We are alone again, she, drowning in her tears and I, left to feeling every bit of her pain.

Its quiet, there’s little movement and shes breathing calmly now… She’s asleep I believe. This is the only time I get to exist without her negative air trying to choke the peace out of me… Its been like this for a few days now, up until then  she had been a much jollier person.  I have experienced her many emotions during the course of my existence but this feeling of hurt had never been so intense till she found out about me. Often times I wonder if I am the reason for her tears, shouldn’t I be here? ….Maybe if I keep still long enough she will forget that I’m here and things will return to normal, but I doubt that will work, it would only make me even more uncomfortable.

She wakes and I don’t feel that intense sadness anymore, it seems to have been replaced by this unexplainable calm while she slept.  I’m not sure I like this sensation… there’s this feeling of disconnect, almost as though she’s keeping her true feelings from me and I’m left all alone in this weightless wonderland. I hear her voice as she speaks to an unheard other, the word “doctor” comes up again and an appointment has just been set for tomorrow… If only I could go back to the first 3 moons of my existence when it was all about food and swimming, she felt happier and so did I… Now all I may ever know is her feeling of regret and my feeling of rejection…

“There is nothing in the whole world so painful as feeling that one is not liked. It always seems to me that people who hate me must be suffering from some kind of lunacy.” – Sei Shonagon

Her Real Awakening

The sky slowly lights up and rays from the still hidden sun softly filter into a dimly lit bedroom, to reveal a dark, feminine figure tossing uncomfortably on her bed. Her body, unwilling to wake continues to fight the break of day , yet in her subconscious she begins to narrate her daily anthem :

“Sometimes I wake in the night. Alone. Thoughts of decisions made. Thoughts of opportunities. Gone. I toss, I turn, and eventually sleep again. I wake to a new dawn, wiser. I awake to the first day….. of the rest of my life”

 Approaching the end of her mental monologue, she lay still on her back. Eyes shut, she inhales deeply,  and as air is released from her chest  her eyes pop wide open. This is her daily ritual for embracing the dawn after which she usually springs up to begin a new day. Today however things have taken on a different shape. Her ritual lacks its edge. On a normal morning everything she did was marked from the moment the sun began to peep through the horizon to her recital and everything else that followed, but presently she seemed stuck  in the moment “embracing the dawn” for much longer that usual. She lay almost lifeless in bed as though desiring for time to stand still. She found herself going over the anthem again and again, and the more she did the more paralyzed she felt. The words seem to take on new meaning today. An expected reaction of course for a woman only hours away from her 3oth birthday. In retrospect surely she had taken a lot for granted in her life time leading her to miss out on A LOT of opportunities, which included a few marriage proposals here and there. Regret was normal for a woman her age, but sadly she doubted that she had learned much from her mistake or that she was any wiser today. Her babyish looks and her overly free spirited way of life seemed to have been her curse.
Summoning up nerve she finally manages to drag herself out of bed to commence her last experience as a woman of the 20’s club. Slowly making her way towards the bathroom she heads straight for the sink. A splash of ice cold water on the face seems to do her some good when she pauses again at the sight of her own reflection in the mirror, and once again she is thrown into a state of panic. Maybe its her imagination but she suddenly notices stress lines and wrinkles across her face that may or may not have been there the night before. A some-what thorough inspection of her facial features is carried out. She pokes and pulls at the skin and at the same time makes funny faces to ease the tension welling up inside her.”You done dey old o babe” she says under her breath while looking back at her untidy frame and playfully pulling at her kinky locks of hair. Standing erect and very still she stares seriously at the mid-aged reflection of herself and suddenly realizes how  ironic the phrase”I awake to the first day….. of the rest of my life”  seems for that very moment in time. Yes, it is her first day…and yet her last as she dies to one decade to be born into the next. She smiles….