Tyler Gates

Love At First Sight

This is it, what all those songs and movies are always talking about. There is no doubt in your collapsing heart, this is love at first sight.

Your eyes run the length of her body, savoring her from head to toe, and as they do you gently run your fingers through her thick, red hair.

Focusing on her eyes, you begin to drift away as you stare longingly into them. They flow into yours and back into themselves for what feels like the most agonizing eternity. You could dedicate your entire existence to simply gazing through them and still not experience a fraction of the beauty they struggle to contain.

Her skin is white and almost seems to glow beneath the bright halogen light. Your roaming fingers stop at every mole, scar, and freckle along the way, mesmerized by the lifetime’s worth of stories you know they each could tell.

As she lies perfectly still, you can’t help but be drowned by the oceans she contains. What a suffocating torrent she is.

Love has always been foreign to you, something heard and read about but never truly understood. Now though, you simply can’t imagine life after her mountains have crushed your pitiful soul to pieces. Here and now, she is yours. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you gently write:

I LOVE YOU

upon her belly with your latex-gloved finger.

Just then, a nurse enters the room, interrupting you both to ask:

“Doctor, is the body prepped for autopsy yet?”

“Just give me a few more minutes, please.”

David Mac

Parlour Thoughts

She bends over to reveal her pussy:
pink, fleshy, almost luxuriant.
She says ‘You like?’
but I’m indifferent.
I look at it and wonder
what it means.
To a man this is the world opened up,
like a flower, hot and mad,
but my mind’s still on
a poem I have
not yet written.
Yes, what if I were to fuck her
with a poem?
What if I were to stick
a big hard poem up there?
Would she prefer a poem
to a cock?
Would it change her?

I stand mesmerised
by her thing,
smiling, having
my delicious thoughts,
and she stands up
and says:
‘You’re a poet aren’t ya?’
I nod.
‘I knew it. You were
thinking about
sticking a poem up there
weren’t ya?’
I nod.
‘Shit, you fucking lot
are all the same!’

Craig Scott

Daddy’s Little Girl

Leila was my blonde bombshell
tight, tan & horny all the time
she would wrap her legs around my waist
& tell me how she wanted to fuck her father
as I pinned her against the wall
& slammed it home
it was so wrong, but when I was
balls deep it sounded so right
she called me daddy, I called her my baby girl
I took pictures of her riding my dick
choking on it, wearing my cum
Leila posted them on a website
I read her the comments while she
rubbed her pussy with my rod
“dam gurl ur hot”
“I have some serious dick envy”
“u wanna try chocolat, slut”
“more pics please”
etc.
sometimes dreams do come true
her father passed out drunk
on the kitchen floor one night
Leila undid his pants & stroked his rager
he woke up, didn’t stop her

last I heard they moved to Arkansas

B. Diehl

Awkward/Preteen Lust at a Trailer Park Near Nazarath, PA

Lying together
on a haystack in the sun ––
when she slid her tongue
into my mouth,
I immediately started
feeling like a lost needle.
I had never made out
with someone before.
I tried writing my name
with my tongue. I tried
making triangles,
diamonds,
awkward circles.
Behind her
neighbor’s trailer,
wide-eyed and kissing,
I watched a skinny crow
land on a nearby barn.
I heard wind chimes.
I heard cornstalks caressing
each other
in the end-of-summer wind.
I couldn’t sense any romance.
She started giving
my partial boner
an over-the-pants rub, and I
thought her redneck dad
was going to run outside
and murder me with a pitchfork.
When my parents pulled up
to get me, she brushed
the hay from the sleeves
of my hoodie and whispered,
“I’m going to give you
a blowjob next time.”
I got in the car and never came back.

 

 

G. Arthur Brown

Help This Boy

Help this boy
He has just the one good arm
The other arm is an evil arm
Made out of rats and bats and weasels and sin
And AIDS and car crashes and wasps and broccoli
And burnt waffles and tar and hate and bad fathers
And sand spurs and dog whistles and little pieces of
Popcorn kernels that get stuck in your teeth
Help this boy
for this boy is you
Help this girl
She has just the one evil arm
The other arm is made of wintermint and pumpkin spice
And kosher hotdogs and baby aspirin and the smell of rain
Her dress is made out of hope and praying
And Applewood-smoked bacon
And her hair—well, her hair is
apricot orgasms mixed with a lazer beam background
and a great dance beat
Dance with this girl until she cries.

Wayne F. Burke

Head-Job

I went into a strip club
in the Combat Zone,
Boston, Massachusetts,
and sat at a long table
with a stripper I gave
30$. A blonde with great
tits, she pulled my dick
out of my pants and kept her
legs clamped as she handled
it. A middle-aged stout woman
holding a rag and a flashlight
circled the table: The blonde
smiled as I felt her up. The
woman flashed her light and
I thought, wtf? It took a long time
for me to cum: afterward, the
blonde unclenched her legs, and
then the cleaning-woman
did her stuff.

Brain Lace, By Karina Bush

A Review By Wayne F. Burke

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Brain Lace, by Karina Bush
Publisher: Bareback Press. 46 pgs

The speaker of these poems comes on as machine, technological and teleological. A disembodied voice fiercely feminine, ferocious of appetite (“I am the archer/And the arrow”). A voice of sibylline quality, wise and patient: the voice of conjurer and magician who takes the reader on an eroticized journey that touches, almost incidentally, on archetypal foundations of instinctual nature (symbolized in the verse by horse, spider, and snake).

Poems emerge from an ether, like erotic narcoleptic dreams; like fecund hypnopompic reveries…Karina can tell it “slant,” through use of metaphor and indirection, like an Emily Dickinson, or tell it otherwise–like it is–without allusive language. In the poem “Disease” we get fellatio by any other name; in “Act I,” and elsewhere, the beast with two backs appears; in “Four Faces” cohabitation consists of “Bastard You/Ugly Me/Nice you/Nice me…We throb perverse/The four of us…” Conditions indistinct described in “The Tint” as “Months of/Fuck blur…” More overtly poetic lines–“This hot satin afternoon/Room evaporates into”–mix with less overt: “In my head/Fuck You/Too much…”

Both Eros and eroticism are found here. A powerful collection mesmerizing in its primal energy.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926449231

https://www.karinabush.com

http://www.barebackpress.com

Chas Ray Krider

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Now Available from Goliath Books, Berlin.
A must have for every erotic library, PUSSY & BUTT, including 16 photos from one of our favorites – the phenomenal Chas Ray Krider.

Special Premium Photo Edition. Over 300 nude photos taken by several photographers on which the prettiest girls uninhibitedly and uncensored display their two most beautiful sides: the pussy and the butt.

pussy_butts_willow_kelsey

pussy_butts_isola_pillow

Isola Augustpussy_butts_erin_s

Bobbi Bamf

Chas Ray Krider’s photographs are part of a tradition of erotic art that employs exaggeration, mystery and the guilty pleasures of voyeurism. His photographs are about the forms employed in narrative based erotic art as contrasted with erotica crafted for mere lasciviousness. Chas Ray’s work concerns the art of presentation, the mystery of anticipation, and the universal human curiosity about sexuality.

Chas Ray is based in Columbus, Ohio. When asked why he lives there, his reply is “I don’t. I live in my imagination.”

Krider’s work is available for exhibtion, assignment and stock. For information on limited edtion prints contact: chasray@motelfetish.com.

For current updates on Chas Ray’s work and activities, visit his blog and Facebook page. Chas can also be found on tumblr and instagram.

An Interview with John D Robinson

Gwil James Thomas

john-d-robinson

Considering that you’re here it seems more than likely that you’ve already heard of the inimitable British poet John D Robinson – if not, then now would also be the perfect time to start. In 2018 he’s had four chapbooks published Hitting Home’ (Iron Lung Press) ‘The Pursuit of Shadows’ (Analog Submission Press) ‘Echoes of Diablo’ (Concrete Meat Press) and the forthcoming ‘Too Many Drinks Ago’ (Paper & Ink)! His work is collectible and usually limited and for that reason it tends to sell swiftly and it’s understandable why.

One of the biggest things that strike me about his poems is the rhythm – no word seems out of place. For that reason he’s a master of vignette poems – painting scenes of poetry with laugher, tragedy, revelry and hope. And like all great poets, once he gets you with his hook – the bastard will have you latched on for life. Robinson’s chapbooks are the sort of material that you want to have in your arsenal the next time you meet someone that says ‘I read poetry back in school and found it boring,’ before they get back to checking their phone. That said, if I’d have been aware of poets like Robinson when I was in school, then my interest in poetry would have stared much sooner. Above all of this though, Robinson comes across as a humble and good soul. Someone who genuinely loves and understands his craft and would be doing it whether the world, or nobody was taking note of him. In that sense he is a true artist and encapsulates everything that made me want to write in the first place.

GJT: I’ll start off with a simple question – do you write to any music? If so, what’s your preference?

JDR: Music has always been a life-long importance to me: I gave up on popular music about two and a half decades ago, occasionally, every six months or so, I will dig out some Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Ramones and listen for 10 minutes and then switch it off, reminding myself why I stopped listening: I listen to nothing but classical music these days: Sibelius, Part, Vaughn Williams: Butterworth: JS Bach: Beethoven: Mozart: Vivaldi: Mahler: Handel: Vivaldi: etc: and scribble as I listen.

GJT: I’ve noticed both cats and dogs being given an affectionate nod in your work. Deep down I think that everyone prefers one, over the other. So, I’m sure that the question on everyone’s lips is – are you a cat man, or a dog man? 

JDR: Cats : I am obsessed with cats, I have been around cats all my life and I love their company, their independence, their mystery: I am with the ancient Egyptians on this one: There is a wonderful film ‘Excavating Taylor Mead’Poet/painter/actor, a Warhol superstar who spent a great deal of his later years wandering around New York feeding the stray cats (You Tube). I have two cats at present though at times I have had four or five, but I think you can’t have too many.

GJT: If you had to name one novel, or poetry collection that had inspired you to pick up the pen, what would it be?

JDR: I could give many answers here: but I think I would have to mention  Steve Richmond: ‘Earth Rose’: an extraordinary collection and an exceptional poet who is quite often overlooked in the shadow of Bukowski: a poet that truly opened my eyes, the brutality and starkness, the beauty and lyrical of this life: he lived a truly eventful life: a poets life: buy his ‘Gagaku’poetry collection published by Dharma Books: But to hammer it down I think it would be Doug Draime: ‘More Than The Alley’: I never tire of reading his wonderful work and have many of his books: he was a poet who lived as a poet and never backed down on his journey: whose work was diverse but always captivating and very often, funny but always with a sting in it’s tail: the collection, selected poems ‘Farrago Soup’ should be on every poet’s shelf:

GJT: Arguably, drinking whilst writing can lower the inhibitions – but the line between buzzed and blotto can naturally get blurred and writing blotto is impossible. Do you typically approach the blank document with a full glass? And if so what’s your favourite bottle?

JDR: I drink whilst I write everyday: my favourite fuel is ‘Casillero del Diablo’ ‘Wine from the Devils cellar’Chardonnay: one would not work without the other: poetry and wine are just two of my demons and it took me a long time to become friends with both, a long and varied journey we’ve undertaken: friendship, love and lives have been lost along the way, but like Ferlinghetti said ‘I’m on an even keel these days’.

GJT: As I mentioned before I love the vignette style of your poems – but it made me think about how good a novel could be in this format, if not a hard fucking task too. Would you ever consider writing a novel?

JDR: I have no plans to do so at the moment: I have written short stories, but have often found prose to be challenging and very time consuming: but I wouldn’t want to rule the idea out.

GJT: I think it’s essential for writers to have hobbies, interests, or some other place to go for ‘downtime’ away from writing. Is this what painting is for you? 

JDR: Painting is something that I enjoy: particularly painting non figurative works: I like to work in acrylics on canvas or wood, I also enjoy making collages which I am doing at present, again I usually work to classical music whilst my cats walk over my materials: I love the work of Basquiat and attended the large exhibition ‘Boom For Real’ in London earlier this year, a fantastic show: Janne Karlsson and Marcel Herms are two contemporary artists whose work that I love and admire.

GJT: Would you ever consider holding an exhibition for your paintings?

JDR: I have exhibited my paintings in the past on several occasions: Coffee houses: bars: small galleries and enjoyed the experience and would be interested in doing so again if the opportunity arose.

GJT: In relation to those last two questions – I’m reluctant to call writing a hobby. I think that there’s this point when going down the road of being a writer, that you realise that it’s become more than a hobby. It’s not something that you can pick up and put down as easily as a hobby. To an outsider that probably sounds pretentious, or delusional and it’s hard to explain to people that don’t write – but if you look at the things it can cost you down the line it can be more like an addiction, or obsession. Do you think that there’s a point where writing becomes more of a way of life? Or really is it more a case that unless you can regularly pay the bills with your writing, then you’re just another full time hobbyist?

JDR: I think that you are right: for me writing poetry is an addiction and an obsession: I try and write everyday: It is something that makes my life richer in many ways: As a teenager I knew that poetry was going to be a life long love and that its passion would not fade: if I don’t write for a few days I get miserable within: but I wait for the return of the muse and she comes in many guises : reading the work of a fellow poet: some music: a conversation with a stranger on a bus: a distant memory: there is always a poem to write: Like Rauschenberg said ‘just walking around the block you will find art’ I don’t figure writing poetry to be a hobby but it’s what I do and I don’t know what else to do and there is nothing else that I would want to be doing.

GJT: What’s next for John D Robinson?

JDR: I will continue writing and sending out to small press publications and online literary journals: 450 poems in over 80 publications have appeared so far.I thoroughly enjoy creating books, formatting and editing, reading the work of quality poets and seeing this brought to life in print is a joyous thing.

I have planned split chapbooks with: Gwil James Thomas, Janne Karlsson, Joseph Ridgwell, Ryan Quinn Flanagan and Catfish McDaris. Holy&intoxicated Publications will continue to publish quality chapbooks: solo collections in the future will feature the poets – John Grochalski, Ally Malinenko, Adrian Manning: Ryan Quinn Flanagan and no doubt this will grow. The Holy&intoxicated Publications Poetry Card series will continue: Series 7 is currently at the printers – Ryan Quinn Flanagan: Dennis Gulling: Scot Young: Catfish McDaris and Arthur J Willhelm are the contributors. I select and approach the poets for a contribution to this series. Series 8 will have special guest editor, Adrian Manning taking over the controls.

This poetry life is a life I love, it has its downs just like everything else in life but making contact and talking to quality poets all over the globe is simply an honour and always inspiring.

As poet Gary Aposhian stated: ‘Buy my Books!’

And thank you Gwil for all your time and hard work.

 

https://ironlungpress.bigcartel.com/product/hitting-home-by-john-d-robinson

https://www.analogsubmission.com/product/the-pursuit-of-shadows-by-john-d-robinson

http://adrianmanning.wixsite.com/concretemeatpress/single-post/2018/08/16/New-Chapbook-by-John-D-Robinson