Posts Tagged ‘lust’

cott

Remember those days of rebellion

At the Cott sessions on Sunday

In a beer garden paradise

All the wonderful women

All the dodgy guys getting away with it because they’re young

Pissed on cheap beer

Pub rock pounding from speakers

Nineties music all afternoon as it was the nineties

Running amuck with your mates by the Indian Ocean

Meeting friendly people at the OBH

Saying Happy Fucking New year at New Year to everyone

Falling into lust for delicious moments

Stolen kisses of consequential fire

Dancing in underage glory

Wild undulations as a dandelion being

Mega celebration enhancing existence

Experiencing bloated enthusiasm

With good friends before they deteriorated into addiction and insanity

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macho-man-12

The machinery that turns boys to men
Is an awful contraption
Old as the pyramids
It cuts and hacks away
Sentiment, emotion and tears
Theatricality, fabulousness, kindness and gentleness
Leaving a hollowed out shell of a person
Anything feminine or gay is hacked out
By your peers and by your parents
As there is nothing worse for a heterosexual man than being feminine
Yet another macho dominant asshole is born
Complete with homophobic slurs
Muscle-bound machismo
Sexism and racism
And raw animal lust
And feminists complain about this which is entirely justified
But ask them if they would sleep with a non-dominant male
And the true depth of the problem emerges

sexism

I could tell I’d freaked you out
You said ‘That’s offensive especially for women. Let’s stop talking about that stuff.’
And my stomach knotted into a ball, and my balls crawled up inside me
I thought of how lonely for female company I was
How desperate to impress
I realized I’d blown it and been offensive
Oh God, don’t let me be a servant of the patriarchy
I don’t want to oppress anyone
My language about my flirting lessons is not appropriate
My attitude to women is not appropriate
It has a hint of hunger
It has a hint of lust
It has a hint of objectification
It has a hint of sexism
It has a stench of fear
It has a stench of desperation
It has a stench of ignorance
It has a stench of idolatry
I don’t want to be a gibbering maniac with a rapist mind
Please don’t think I’m a monster or a creeper
I’m just so lonely that I feel like I’m dying inside from the ground up
Inch by inch turning into a statue
Soon to be made a psychological eunuch
By sexual deprivation, frustration and loneliness

most-beatiful-women-08

Stardust on her eye-lids
Cellophane kisses
Messy lipstick
Blurred mascara
Trash
Ripped fish-net stockings
Pours another drink
How does it taste?
Warmth of alcohol
Abandoned but unbroken
Trash
Glitter-ball perfume
Lust for doom
My darling
Trash
Lounging in the gutter
Vomit in her hair
Eyes on the stars
Which rotate alarmingly
Vomits again
Screams, kicks off her high-heels
Trash
But still beautiful

cobra

Predator, predator
Reptile fuck-brain
Stick out your forked tongue
Then pull it in again
With your cold reptile eyes you watch little girls
And offer them lollies in toy departments.
You take pictures up their skirts
While their mothers wait for them in the next aisle
And gibber and gape as their innocence decomposes in your sickness
You rape their minds and their bodies like a macho football team
And leave PTSD and terrible dreams
Paedophile, paedophile
With your sick grin and vile Satan-smile
Dead behind your eyes,
Your soul corrupted like a rotten apple.
What made you this monster?
Who fucked your ass?
To make you a viper, a shark, a cobra
Hundreds of little girls
All fed to your lust and spat out broken
Into unbearable lives
I hope they haunt you forever

bateman
Please don’t bring me down:
With your cocaine greed and your suburban sentiments,
With your methane safari lust and your keeping up with the neighbours,
With your Charles Manson smile on your wolf-like teeth,
With your mobile phone calls and your cut-throat razor witticisms,
With your knowledge of suffering and your refusal to act.

Hey, you, I’m talking to you- with your policeman haircut and shiny shoes.
You act like an overlord and boss people around,
You metamorphosize into a photo-gallery of Satan’s faces,
You plunder and rape your way through your pestilent life.
Your eyes are dead until you swallow love, then they are in flame.
You always look good to the outside world, but underneath you are hepatitis-c-filled syringes and used condoms.
Cellophane Worker, Insolent Parasite, Tedious Evil.