Posts Tagged ‘writing’

her blouse …

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her blouse falls open
like a high cupboard
… her nipples
like painted pink tips
on porcelain

(Julian O’Dea)

Lake

Lake

 

… another hot day

but a wind blows

and I can watch

the sails on yachts

billow like blooms

in a bowl …

 

(Julian O’Dea)

yes, I look at women’s shoes

yes, I look at women’s
shoes … that’s where
the ankles live

 

(Julian O’Dea)

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Samuel Johnson said it all on women preaching

 

“I told him I had been that morning at a meeting of the people called Quakers, where I had heard a woman preach.  Johnson: “Sir, a woman’s preaching is like a dog’s walking on his hind legs.  It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all.”
Boswell: Life”

Saturday

Saturday

… for a moment or two

I smelt I was in port again;

with the scent of diesel and

the hydraulics of the truck

in our driveway;

and a wiry man working

in a floppy hat; and me

standing there watching,

slightly drunk.

 

(Julian O’Dea) 

A spanking poem

WARMING HER HEART

When she observes a corner of his mind
It seems to her to make a heart smile wide
And, if his spanks are hard, then she may find
The smile fades, but the wetness inside
Her pink flesh seems to fill its place quite well;
And she appreciates this very much, it seems;
Though this is rather evident; she’ll spell
It out because she wants all of her dreams
To resonate with hope that she can serve
Her owner to perfection; she can play,
The naughty girl, who shows her every curve;
Is ready to oblige in any way
When she observes a corner of his mind
She has a good idea of what she’ll find..

(Shshank Singh Rajput)

Late at night

 

Late at night we used to

struggle together to put

our wild love in a cage

of limbs, to capture

and hold it tight

between us …

 

sometimes I would hold

your shoulders firmly,

pulling you to me, trying

to tame waves of passion

by running them together

hard.

 

(Julian O’Dea)