"catamite" poems
this is a poem about happiness.
this is also a poem about how great life is, see? here's a metaphor
comparing nature to the faultless
form of a pedastalized lover,
here's a description of the
effect of changes in air pressure
and localized temperature
fluctuations
on physical matter in a given area.
here's a bland truism that
anybody can relate to.
here's a couple rhyming stanzas
about the ethereal shifting of
connecting threads which
cause all life to dance upon
the cosmic stage like food poisoned marionettes.
here's an ode to the wrinkles of
my ******** and
the bits of fuzz that occasionally
find their home in my *****
here's a sonette to the drop outs
doing better than me
here's a dirge for the businessman
that hangs himself
and a jubilee for his widow
who earns nothing off his death
because he left his entire estate
to his catamite.
I'm writing a symphony in color,
notes of fermenting wood
dogshit and coffin dust.
the violas swoop and drone
the piccolos trill fast enough
to excise your gastrointestinal system
the barotone sax wheezes
and the timpani drum rumbles
(the flutes sit motionless because
**** flutes)
the pianists fingers are bleeding
hes banging with stumps now
his face contorted in ecstatic glee
as if the face of god has parted
the clouds just to scrape his gums
clean with his dietous ****
and lo faint is the whisper
which climbs and slithers
between the
false,
bash upon life with both hands.
here is life here is death
let me show your life
let me breathe your wretching
like squandered
like roots in the soil,
paint your everlasting cave drawing
in the face of your kitchen
and dance around a fire
let the embers lick your heels
til pagan viciousness overtakes
your quivering form.
gasp it in
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
Sneering at the flicker of fear in my eyes,
You made your way to my side,
You kissed me, your lips stained with lies.
Your blade you raised,
Glinting in the moonlight’s daze,
Slowly swooping down to me,
The air now a crumbling maze.
A mysterious, quiet, cool danger rained down,
But he made a sound,
And into darkness you had grown.
I laid and watched for shadows on the wall,
He laid, scratched my skin,
O’er my neck his tongue crawled,
So tired,
My hope to fall.
‘Ere at the break of dawn,
Uhtceare,
Recalling the cool, iron feel of his fangs,
Mountain stream,
Blue-black, heartbeat,
Fell thirst,
Unexpected my lust, his cold desire.
Wishing for thorned skin,
Torn,
Desire-hate,
Distraction serves evil.
Vengeance I beg hither,
Clasp my heart,
Chase away desire.
-Firefly
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
He lay spent,
Beside me,
Under our canopy.....or tent.
I cried and watched the spaces between stars,
Seeing you,
Beautiful,
Coveted flowers of war.
Regret was like a most fearful murrain,
Troths as deadly as poison taking root,
Where it hurts most,
The misery of the brain.
The pity, and beauty, and power of my death,
Lay as a teasing indecision,
An untouched mystery, whispering, almost out of breath.
The firefly light flickered,
If he was awake,
I’d have bet a wish he’d have bickered.
An old shadow appeared on the wall,
As familiar as sleep,
The forbidden memories I keep.
Your shadow, determined to haunt,
Came to our bed,
banishing the warmth.
My tears choked me, blue and unyielding,
You, now a misconceived pain in my heart,
Stabbed at his neck, with a silver dagger you were wielding.
-Firefly
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
I am but a horned boy,
I need no compassion,
Still afraid of shadows,
Still quivers in the wind.
The jersey devil called me brittle,
“A brittle, crumbling fool you are,
“But don’t worry Lucas,” he said,
“I’ll be with you forever,
“Under Mother Moon’s stars.”
I trembl’d at that,
Hoped he wouldn't notice,
‘Twas the Fates who cruel,
Me, the Hellcat.....and shadows.
Seething silhouettes,
Wielding daggers,
Squeezing thy pulsing heart.
Mine own fears fill thy mountain stream,
Brittle, now timorous,
Struck with afflicted dreams.
Confusion, rapturous, the wind whispers in a niche,
Tales of vengeance to remember,
Conceived I a plot,
Look out Hellcat!
Fear I, and the word: dismember.
-Firefly
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
[Hellcat]
By the bubbling stream,
Lay your head down,
On my lap of reeds.
Oft the lyre was struck,
Flatt’ring music,
Ne’er ceasing, ne’er circumscrib’d.
My horned boy give in,
Sleep in this lea,
Under secret bow’r,
Beside stream,
Under imagin’d ivy-mantled tow’r,
“It’s time.....for the rite,” I whispered,
“Sleep shall bring you no pain.”
Come, leave thy clothes here,
To be washed, like the tow’r, by the rain.”
Your lithe body was warm,
Rub’d against my chest,
Creating a ling’grin feeling,
Sweet,delicious friction,
Sending my eyes reeling.
My sweet catamite,
Still unfathomed are your feelings,
No revenge shall you be granted,
Oh yes! I know, but we may not tarry,
Mis’ry awaits,
And glimm’ring moon,
Welcomes us, th’inevitable mates.
-Firefly
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
What’s cute about my little cutie
Is his beauty, not brains
Old father time will never harm me
While his charm still remains
Just cos you grow old, baby
You don’t have to be a cold baby…
How I love my catamite
Rising proudly like a stalagmite
He keeps me young and beautiful
The way I want to be loved
Never fails to work his fluff
My delicious, golden powder puff
Keeps me young and beautiful
The way I want to be loved
Though I’m old, there’s no need to be placid
And if ever I feel slightly flaccid
I indulge in benign flagellatus
With my puer delicatus…
He lends me all his charms
When I’m tightly bound within his arms
Keeps me young and beautiful
The way I want to be loved
Though he’s not going to win any prizes
For his essays on Nietzsche or Kant
You have only to glance at his thighses
To see why I keep coming back…
I adore my catamite
My delightful little sodomite
He keeps me young and beautiful
The way I want to be loved
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 9:50 AM UTC
Yea I found a flaw!
You like meats ****** raw!
We go to sleep in the crypts,
Hungry like black holes, like pits.
We saw magic on the trees,
Made by yellow bees.
Then you took a fall,
I ran to the tree,
To cry and call.
You fell to darkest torment,
Your back was crook’d,
Depression and anathemas I cooked.
The jersey devil took me away,
The ***** promises sounding like a horse’s bray.
I laid in his arms on the way to his lair,
Stepped with him into his hole,
Ready to forget the dreaded lighted air.
He preyed on me, A parasite to a catamite,
My eyes drooped,
A lonely boy sacrificed to a woeful rite.
-Firefly
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
The fresh-faced youth, dagger on hip,
is possessed of many secrets.
Spy, chameleon, a wolf in sheep’s clothing,
accustomed to the shadows,
indeed, he is not a ‘he’ at all,
but a woman in service to her dauphin.
The drape of her shirt and breeches
hint at her curves, her muscle,
the delicate arch of her feet
in her red court shoes
long and well suited to
slipping across foreign marble
to do what she must.
She has played the man-at-war,
the page boy and the cupbearer,
the mistress and the catamite,
in the bed of men and women both,
their pillow talk treason carried away
while she still bears their bruises and love bites.
Servant of the state, the empire,
her lord and her god-
she is Madonna, Joan of Arc,
a thousand women unnamed,
her king’s blade, steel under velvet.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
There, the caldera bevelled
In the spitting image of her bell
Looking shy above the shore
Was the essence of her smell
Liquids sharp, naked harp
A catamite in my succor
Graceless heave, tender sleeve
Pearly trailing tail
Entwine, surrender, entwine, surrender
Scintillating boy or throbbing girl
In new moments, waves collapsed
Ink lashed on our toothless gaps
A monkey washed, motions high
Pink shores creased, began to cry
Swelling up like a storm
Smells of Eden, the baby is warm
In the cool flame which sits down still
As it marvels at the hole that it filled
Overlapping with her blue commotion
Like two hills on a vicious plane
Eunoia sighs in consummated sky
They curled deep inside
The cavity of their hands
As vesper came, they awoke with no name
But there was something on their tongues
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 8:16 PM UTC