Books I wan' read

Rule by Secrecy - Jim Marrs

Hyperspace: Scientific Odyssey Through Parallel Universes, Time Warps and the Tenth Dimension - Michio (Michlo? Michto?) Kaku

The 12th Planet: Book one of the Earth Chronicles - Zacharia Sitchin

...no prizes for guessing why

All in for two

A flushed bright upon my skin
a writhing dusk gives way to night
and all around me is a wild
and fantastic light
reaching from my top to chin

Appearing from the eerie dark
a voice, cutting, speaks out to me
illumed, princess, a tortured slay
he whispers and I spin to see
from glowing black there grows a spark

a knife edge, cuts me cool and deep
I don't cry out, instead I breathe
into the lowest of my depth
and keep it there to kick and seethe
when all good day is done, I sleep

He wastes no time, and pulls me close
a breath upon my softened skin
and strokes a slow hand from my brow
to nose to cheek and down to chin
of lust, a lethal, sealing dose

I bite down, holding in my scream
a row of teeth skim past my neck
my back takes heed and bucks on cue
he's careful but some sweat, a fleck
lands on the carpet staining cream

I feel the plush beneath my feet
a soft red sting upon my lips
he skews my judgement as I sway
and pulls the rope taut on my hips
the blood that flows flows oh so sweet

A growing pain of sweet surrender
basks in knowledge of my flaw
as his lips dust past my shoulder
tap, a light noise on the door
he speaks, and says you may up end her

I wake to dazzled darkness, then
a light upon my face again
I feel a soft weight on my hand
I lift my head out of the sand
My tasty little girl, you rise

I bite down on congealed blood
and swear my own royal decree
I'll clean you up, I'm whisked away
I wake again, and now I'm clean
The dirt is gone, the sin and mud

I tap away on a keyboard plane
a simmering heat from a distant land
blows past my face, the door swings wide
It's two o'clock, I need a hand
And there my life starts over again

Things just work, my life just is
I seek no wisdom, find no wise
I become, not I am, and it plagueth me
that far beneath my truth are lies
that I am what I become and conjugate to is

I am the third person, I am her
a thud upon the floor, a cut
and bleeding wound, it's where I'll be
a whore, a self-despising slut
and life will go past in a blur

And tomorrow it shall be the same
I'll take off my clothes and push my toes in the plush
and I say something then, and he'll take to my throat
and he'll say and he'll do and he'll cut and I'll blush
and the next day I'll rise, and be back in the game.

A Slow Start

A belt of stars across the sky
appears as suddenly as a life
as testament to a false belief
that rather than live we prefer to die
the light in my feet now gives way to night
and rolling clouds rumble in
as a sign of hope, and a silky sin

an old fool is no fool
if the old fool is old school
and a patch of a quilt stitched to a wall
fits not as a patch but answers a call
and given their patch in the skin of all
the question is not if patch makes whole


and the song 'he writes so incongruously'
is sung like a hymn, so religiously
in the manner of zealots
in the manner of false
and turned to by hopeless when failed by all else

and the first step is hardest, is longest, is worst
and followed by one, the another and three
and deep inspiration comes slow without haste
as if to say, 'no, i shan't be owned by thee'

and it gradually fades and it gradually ends
it slowly grows softer and beigely blends
and the deep dark soft morning on night still depends

and grammar is beaten and moulded, slept in
like a recalcitrant child on a friday, kept in

apparently women bow down to the wind.