"jezebel" poems
explicit
Let the strangers be scared again, my dear
It's finally my turn to incite fear
Last time I was your sweet innocent angel
This time I'll be your Jezebel
The underwear you ripped off me and cast beside the chair?
I'll use them to bind your wrists then grab you by the hair.
Then I'll pull your head to the side so I can bite
And scratch and bleed you until your pain turns into delight
I'll kiss you with your blood on my lips and force you roughly down
My yellowish eyes filled with evil glee like a demented clown
I'll bite your chin and slither down
Nibbling and feeding at each place I've found
Until I reach the place you want to be touched
There's fear in your eyes now; you see my bloodlust
Then I'll start caressing
Teasing
Pleasing
Until you are begging
Pleading
Needing
And you break free of your silken chain
To remind me once again
Why I'm a daughter of Eve
And you're a child of Cain
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
You're a grim reaper
Looking for a soul to devour
A mind to hack and a body to axe
Your empty eyes and that evil smile
Can't hide the fact that you're dead inside
You got the Jezebel vibes
Sound like a saint and feels like the devil
Forbidden is your tag
Dead and gone, your heart's nowhere to be found
Luring innocent souls into your empty shell
Got that charm that disarms
You're a grim reaper
A grim reaper
© Sonia Ettyang
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 4:54 AM UTC
its unmistakable
not just another caravan of faces
not just another passing year
under a strange sky
iv reached the edge of the world
nothing but open sea to my back
as far as the mind can see
and i'm riding a west wind on a quickness breeze
on a middle of the night skiff
to the the small island
where she waits for me
where she sleeps tonight
the bold song gone soft an slow
the guarded smile relaxed into a champion of joy
and conquers all her sadness
with a single tilt at the windmills
like a knight in shining armor
nothing but deep sea
nothing but night salt and sea
and as i draw near
she sings from her soul to mine
come to me lover
laugh
yes cry out loud with all your joys
laugh pure and easy
i'm the mood for you boy
i'm in the mood for your hand in mine
dance in my heart
its a warm night in the tropics
and we got the world to ourselfs
so may i have this dance
spin
dip
ballroom of sand
laugh with me
run with me
we are free
all our lives people have tried to put us away
keep us down
now look at
dancing in the stars
look at us free and easy
dance with me baby
make love with me honey
on this ballroom of sand
laugh pure and true
with simple joy
here by salt and sea
be young with me
tonight on this ballroom of sand
come home to me
warm me with your touch
comfort me with your eyes
iv waited so long come home to me
nothing but open sea at my back
and i feel so alive
i feel so free
and my lover is near iv never been so alive
running a western quickness breeze
on a skiff heading home
to her
jezebel
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 6:00 AM UTC
heavy traffic
so we stash ourselves in the publix parking lot
and watch the flashes of the departing thunderstorm
she lays out on the buicks hood in a bikini top
a bead of sweat kisses her bellybutton
her thick dreadlocks spread like ropes
i pick one up and stick it in her ear
shes not happy with that
afternoon is all sunshine and watered down sodas
isles of plastic goodies and elevator musics
the old woman pushing her empty cart while dragging a bag
she goes to get her nails done
i push pebbles into parking lot puddles
and watch the sky drift in the reflection
she is half my age
she sticks her tongue in my ear
i dont mind
there are palm trees and lizzards everywhere
and pebbles in puddles
im a pebble and shes my puddle
shes all wet
im hard
we laugh in the forever summer sunshine
we dance in the parking lot puddles
of the fiveashes publix lot
and daydream the stars above
this is no ordinary love
this is passion's fire in the hearts eyes
shes my jezebel
im her poet
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
It's been a long time since I've been to church
My horns are starting to grow back again
I'm back, *******
Well, well...
Missed me?
Relax. There's plenty of me to go around
Enough to keep you coming back for seconds
That's all I ever do.
The thing about a Jezebel is that she's been through stuff
So she's more streetwise and seasoned
With fault and reasoning
To make you keep coming back for more
Ruths are plain and bland
Uncooked meat
Raw and salmonella-inducing
Makes you puke on the spot and swear off meat forever
Turning vegan
Swearing off the word
Turning heathen
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 5:41 AM UTC
Alright Jezebel is that not who you are? How much of your soul are you going to sell? With your chest pushed high and your **** in the air. With the smile you bare and the wink you blink. The fruit for the trick to get their fix behind blind eyes. Your secrets hidden away through your faults beauty and enticement. A walk that attracts nothing but the **** You put your self on the proverbial block. Though on the outside you converted and claim outwardly to the king of kings God and Christ. Though believe like a Pharisee. A marionette innocents for all to see.
Yet even a Pharisee doesn't hold the many lies you've told. For even they are the best known hypocrites that Christ warned and spoke against. Telling everyone your married, or so you say with a bold face. Yet you go out at night to collect your lies by spreading your thighs for material and lust. Helping to destroy families to commit adultery with theirs and your own. You lost your Grace and the Holy Spirit depart. Now you gain worldly excitement and shame. Living your life amongst the dogs. In a fad life style fed to you. Taking it as wholesome, knowing better. So it is to be said your like a lost little Lam on your way to self destruction. Without a care of the afflictions. You allow yourself to be used like a Devils tool, yet tell yourself your not a toy.. May it go to show you are becoming Lucifer's proprietary embodiment. Only to think you have the upper hand.
Shown by your eyes that is a window to the soul exposing wickedness!
Though on the deep inside is there not yet another cloak?? Do you not cry at night with heavy sorrow when you look in the mirror for the truth to be whole and despise the girl you have yet let blossom to become the ultimate woman that is there. Pretending to be some one your not. So you are a lantern in need of a new candle wanting to be rekindled. How cold you must be to have so many layers. But that's what you get when you become a player. A sweet and sour flavor. You say "Don't Hate!" Though to walk up right on the path of truth would attract in your self a better person. Why not accept your self for the real you. The one mistakenly hidden so deep inside. Is that not who you are? Instead you bed with the heartless desires you give your self too to become a trophy. The mold you have created of yourself only mocks at the real you. The inner you fading and becoming transparent. Now with out a care you have become fake, vile and foul. Yes he who has no sin cast the first stone. So it should not be thrown. Heavenly Father I pray for her!!!
Jul 13, 2011
Jul 13, 2011 at 2:17 PM UTC
I never understood
Why people loved ******
many men they love
plenty women adored
Apathetic anger
I never appreciated
Your ability
To ****** strangers
You made me love you too
now my dignity is in danger
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
He loves me like a dog;
Not a pet, not a beloved family member
But a common mutt,
cast into the wild
when I do not fetch the bone he throws me.
He loves only when I do not howl at the moon
for the injustice and evil of this cruel life.
He loves on a seasonal this-and-that sort of term
And kicks at my chest
when I sleep on his sofa or lick at his heels.
He breaks me like a horse-
To become his archetype-
And revolts at the Jezebel I am supposed to be
And yet,
this dog comes crawling back to the arms who should love me
unconditionally…
I come back to my accuser,
I crawl to my stereotype-
After all I am a **** good** maid.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 4:01 PM UTC
she opens a pack of
sheffield english type number five cigarettes
i rest my head in her lap
as she reads a french newspaper
its raining in paris and theres a girl there who is unhappy
dreams of romantic places never have sad girls in them
she must be a tourist
she sips some strange brew of teas
that has a heavy bouquet
loam and flowers..like a sweet wine
she suddenly laughs and translates a piece of the
french news for me
but i dont hear what she says
i only hear the rich beauty of her voice
i only hear the captivating beauties of her
i lean up and kiss her
she tastes of the sea and english cigarettes
i am lost in her essence and her her girlish delights
she pokes me and makes me look at a photograph in
the paris newspaper...its the sad girl
she looks english
that graceful beautiful elegant sadness
that only english girls can speak without ever saying a word
jezebel sips her tea and smokes her english sheffield cigarette
holding it like girls hold cigarettes in that dainty way
i forget the english girl and her sadness
as i lay looking into the eyes of this dreadlock hippie queen
janis joplin plays softly from her mp3
shes tapping her bejewelled toes to the ancient music
bachelors in literature she loves the written word
she has read everything ever written by anyone
she has read her way through forty years worth of poetry by me
and corrected my atrocious spelling along the way
this is morning in her arms
now you know why i am so in love with her
now you see why she is everything to me
she leans down and lays a single tender kiss on my cheek
and tells me she loves me
this is heaven
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
If my world's a bakery
in an endlessly large country
you descend upon my city
we pass at the stale loaves
eyelashes flutter, aghast
like I'm an insect assailing your glasses
I watch you smile or grimace
Run your tongue, checking for guilt stuck in your teeth
"Oh! Hhey!!"
Your voice surprises us both
it is the same timbre in which I render
words more decadent than your courage
to spit at my living person
when it stands all but 5'6 and breathing in front of you
washing up bottle messaged on the beaches of my awareness
***** jezebel, ******
-her-
See, I've been receiving your cookies
in brown paper parcels
Little birds didn't want me to miss out on the flavor
I see you, small creature
how quickly you frost your hate
with buttercream icing, your loathing is cake
you devour and feed to anyone who'll taste
You have laid your field fallow
and let me assume disgrace
I want to tell you you're wrong
I want to push you with my mind
I want to throw sprinkles at you
I see you, small creature
with scrunched up fists
and I taste your poison
like grand marnier
it spoils everything
The recipe was followed rule for rule
The souffle rose
***** though you may
I'd almost rather hug you
if it would squeeze out your wretchedness
a flouncing whirl cupcake summit
so we could be tin-pan square
and may our pastry never mix again.
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 5:19 PM UTC
It's been a while since we've last talked
and I've built up a lot inside this body
you should know these feelings quite well
but what you may soon come to find out
is that a piece of my heart isn't all that mad
I know that
You're a total *****
I hate your ******* guts
And never again will I want you
But I know better than to consume and ponder myself
with thoughts that a less wiser man would think
it's not the end of the world frankly
and I have better things to do
than to sit around all day
and drive myself mad
losing all this sleep
trying hard
to forgive
you.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
Baal was a phony god that was worshipped by many, including King Ahab and Jezebel.
Jehovah put it upon Elijah to prove to the people that he was the true God of Israel.
Satan created Baal to turn people away from Jehovah God.
It took Elijah to prove to the people that Baal was a fraud.
Elijah knew that he could show the people the truth and make Baal falter.
He told them to slaughter a bull and use it for a sacrifice on an altar.
Elijah told them that Baal would be the true God if he could burn the bull but no fire came.
But then Jehovah God sent down fire and burned the sacrifice and that put Baal to shame.
Even though Elijah had the wood and bull covered with water, both still burned.
The people saw that Jehovah is the true God, that was the lesson that they learned.
King Ahab and Queen Jezebel promoted Baal worship and it was something they came to regret.
Both of them ended up dead and God was pleased with Elijah who was the boldest of his prophets.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
There’s a bear in there!
“ A bear? Where? Where?”
“In church. See there?”
“Can you see the bear?”
“It’s a fashion trend
With a flirty look.
It’s a magazine
With a gossip hook.
It’s a leading man
With an undead past.
It’s a promise made
That doesn’t last.
It’s a lazy trend
That wastes the time,
And doesn’t relate
To the heart sublime.”
“I always said that
We musn’t judge.”
“But we must discern,
Maybe give a nudge.”
“But the Scripture says
Take the beam out first.”
“That’s exactly right,
And so we must -
But then we durst
Turn a sinner back,
Save a soul from death
For His great love’s sake.
Our lampstand must
Remain in place.
Sexuality
May not ******
Toleration and
Compromise
Bring death. Not there the
White stone lies.
Comfort Gospel
(Jezebel’s whim
And society’s ease )
Is a preacher’s sin.
Earthly treasure will
Close the eye so
The Light is dim
Where many go.”
“But Jesus promised
His healing hand,
Great plans for our future
We understand.”
“You’re right, He did
But the problem is
It’s not in the carnal
His purpose lies.
It’s in character building
Through struggle ,pain
And sacrifice
Again and again,
Until His children
Can submit
To his greater plan
In a perfect fit.
Until they can get
A handle on
His vision for Life
And eternity strong.
Will you go there?
With determined tread
And a single mind
His purpose read?
Will you open your page
In His blueprint plan
And download a copy
To your hard drive, (wo) Man?
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Strange, the things we do when young and dumb and I guess stupid.
Some ride the wild side of life.
Others secretly tries to pretend they don't.
But we all live the intriguement of youth.
Girls, seeking bad boys for joy.
Men seeking loose women for excitement.
While others pretend they better than us.
But quietly doing the same.
We don't have to call anyone by name.
We seen it in the scriptures.
If we only use the life of King David.
He cheated, he plotted, he confirm we all human living accordingly to nature.
And they talk about Jezebel.
Why?
Do women have it hard in the bible?
When men were creative manipulators.
But when young we seek things told not to do?
For no one upon this earth can say they hadn't been a fool.
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 9:41 AM UTC
She's pretty and she's popular, so she must be a
She's friendly and she's giving, so she must be a
She's loud and she's mean, so she must be a
She dresses in long skirts and covers her hair, so she must be a
She wears shorts so tight they don't button, so she must be a
She's quiet and she cries, so she must be a
She doesn't talk to anyone so
She talks to everyone so
She does this
She does that
She acts like this, she dresses like that so we have to put a label on her
Simply put, I'd like to call her a girl
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 3:26 AM UTC
Another pointless day
On the pavement, in the heat.
Only 3 people stopped
Hated aching feet.
Out here every day
With my clipboard and green shirt.
Ask strangers for donations to
Help rebuild our Earth.
Beg and plead and pester
Sometimes I even sing,
But for no response
Apathy is an extraordinary thing.
One week rendered only 50 bucks
So I started to branch out.
Because our dying planet needs the help
That only cash can bring about.
This day game wasn’t working
So I turned to night.
Swap the shirt for a skirt
And turn on my red light.
Earn more in a night hour
Than in a week of days
Call me any name you want
*** sells but also pays.
****** ***** and **********
Harlot, Jezebel.
Heard them all, but don’t care
Tonight I will sleep well.
The blindness of the masses
Environment burns unseen.
So I sell myself and save the trees
It’s not easy being green.
Jun 9, 2011
Jun 9, 2011 at 3:11 AM UTC
Trick tricky on a radiant platform
Jezebel, arms full of gnashing curs
She loves everybody, that girl
She always meant well
The most dangerous thing in the world
Riding the dragon straight into the apocalypse
Nine heads slavering, always hungry
Swollen with decades of wasted debauchery
Brimstone falling from the rafters, pillars of melting wax, melting faces
Tongue to the iron, proving my lie
A deception of self, it’s a ******* masterpiece
The garden lush that falls to rot,
Lunatic blight, land that salts itself
Spending what was spent until it is finally dry like wither.
I,
I run hot and cold, a cheap parlor trick gone bad
Changing phase to phase and back again, losing a little more each time
Tiamat to fire the kiln, I wait
Too polluted by far to continue this way any longer
Wrapping myself up small for you, so helpless and inevitable
Hell-bent on teaching you how to better abuse me
Help me to recreate myself, oh yes please
I am, you will find
More pliable even, in the heat of your hands
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 1:10 AM UTC
Dear Queen Jezebel,
Your name has fallen through the thickets of white male history
But I think you are painted unfairly.
For you were a strong female character
In a time when they were frowned upon.
No man would tell you what to do
You held power in your strong wrists
In your condescending smile
In your waterfall hips.
You were brutal
But you you showed the world that you would not be messed with
You were not merely valuable for your ***
For your ability to pop out children.
You were revolutionary
You installed fear in the men who did everything they could
To cut you to pieces.
Maybe we are not too different
As my ex-boyfriend repeatedly told me to shut my feminist mouth
And have *** with him.
History repeatedly ****** you
Paints you as a *** symbol
Rather than a strategic businesswoman and monarch.
You knew what you were doing
And I follow your lead
They will never love us
We, Jezebel, are for them to make pets out of
We are here to show them
How the mighty
Have fallen.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
Nose to the table
Swan-dive into the land of fables
Where every song is a sacrament
Cause magic has no accidents
And grief opens the door to sin
And mistakes which lead you into
A world where the light bringer
Is also the scorpion’s stinger
She’s wearing rings, she’s wearing bells
Still you deny she’s a Jezebel
Immoral fiction from the past
Makes sand fly through the hourglass
The immortality of sigils and art
Cause no one tells you where to start
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:37 PM UTC
we went walking in the
birdsong breezes
hand in hand in the
spring grass 'neath the juniper tree
and her heart sung me a lullaby so sweet
her heart laid her empathy's hand to cool my worried brow
as she walked up the beach
in the strange empire just north of miami carrying a conch
barefoot wearing a quilted hippy skirt
and filled the world around her with joys
its the truth of her
it shows in everything she dose
we went walking in evenings tide
as sea and sand swirled neath our bare feet
as the golden taste of setting sun nourished our souls
she gave me loves tender and true
thrice she tapped at souls gate with her giggling charms
thrice she gently laid spring doves to sing me awake
thrice clad in her hippy quilted dress she loved and saved poor mortal me
and so we went walking in the evening tide to cool our bodies
and set fires in our souls
her voice in my minds eye as she read my poetry aloud
in a parking garage at three am
because the echoes added to the magic
but the only magic i see is her
we went walking in the fresh spring morning
in a deep rich forest to marvel at king johns kingdom
and when we found him
as any gentle soul would she fed him
and wiped away his tears
its the truth of her
in everything she dose
theres no cruelty's cage like denvers hippies
theres only love
we went walking
and made our way home
her college girl glasses on my nightstand
with her french romance novella
and a pack of english cigarettes
she sleeps sweetly in my arms
while spring stirs the sunsoaked curtains
filling the air with birdsong and flowers
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 5:41 PM UTC
Six oh six a.m.
Saturday the thirteenth.
Today came in through twilight
When last year it came through dusk
Through a different man’s musk
A different moon’s scent
And I prevent myself in wavering for favoring others
Because how can you decide
if you can’t compare another brother?
Don’t call me Jezebel, *******
I’m Scheherazade on these snitches
Hippolyta—A lover and a fighter
Ariel--a forest nymph, bound
Sappho and Joan of Arc—United
Call me the Queen on the ******
But I own that ****
As I am.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 8:40 AM UTC
Hand on the good book that I never read,
I swore my loyalty though you know I like to fib,
Even as your see the guilt gushing beneath my skin,
I’ve been holding the prosecutor’s hand, with another on the switch,
A spineless snitch waiting for the green light to fry you for what Benjamin did,
So sorry this couldn’t have been different,
But the chair only seats one according to our governance,
And I’m not the victim with a scheme preached as providence
So sorry for the inconvenience
But I want to feel the pulse of the pompous cease,
And watch the stillness of eyes that once blinked,
When they found the oval throne of a tyrant
Instead of the virtuous,
The one who was to lead us,
So who’s stopping me from strapping you to that seat?
Since my crime caused the scene
Since your fathers where the ones who put your sons to sleep
Coming from the cranial cracks of the insane,
Those that tried justified slavery while promising us all equality
I am the reason they put price tags on humans
And why this isn’t the land of the free
I’m the governor forcing your loyalty
Or I tell everyone you’re a traitor before finding you guilty,
I’m Uncle Sam’s mistress,
The thought process of social unrest,
When the enemy was a homegrown threat,
When Plymouth protest turned to disobedience,
I was with the Protestant,
I’m the crack in the Liberty Bell,
The judge, jury, and judicial jezebel,
The King, the colonial, the freedom fighter, the insurgent
I’ve once facilitated your independence,
I was your lust for a better existence
Since the struggle against a parliament
I’ve been dealing you an idealistic hand,
Since the election of the forty-third,
I am the notion that this isn’t the promise land
Like a revolutionary remedy
I am the idealistic ******
The enemy of our mentalities
The thought of defying the constraints this reality
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 2:38 AM UTC
Allah’s messenger said, ‘Allah has ninety-nine names, one hundred less one and he who memorized them all by heart will enter paradise.’ To count something means to know it by heart - Sahi Bukhari, Vol. 9, Book 93, Hadith 489
Cook her with Honey, Sweets, Glorious Sugar
Peaches and Hares, Soft Haired Stranger
smells like Tulips, Beloved Roses, Jasmines,
Violets, Blessed Lilies, Lotus Stars and Songbirds
First Born, Second Born, Eighth Born
The Oldest Daughter, Shy and Timid
My Father’s Blessings, My Mother’s Tears
Promise of God, God is My Father
One Who is Alive, a Songbird Fantasy
Person of the Night who Loves the
Beautiful Night Rain, *****
Jezebel’s Daughter, Detesting Witch
she is One Who Can Forsee, Prideful,
Original Sin, Woman of White Magic
Wild As a Mountain Goat
Torch of Light, Light of Mine, Light All Around
watch the Woman with Crown, a Woman of Victory
Truthful Ruler of the House, Ruler with a Spear
Fighting Filled With Wrath, Strong as a Little Bear
Battle Armor From the Land of the Broken
Protector of Sunrise and Nightfall
Fighting a Battle in Winter with
Wisdom and Justice
A Princess Who Has A Heart of Gold
Beauty, A Woman of High Manners
Noble Queen, Radiant Precious Stone
Shining Diamond, Like Smooth Dark Wood
our Possession, our Brand New Home, our Feast
A Reward Given, an Afterthought Charity, Chaste Homemaker
Wealthy Companion, Warm Fire, Compassionate Nurse
Say the Prayers with Heavy Stones
Divine Woman. Universal Woman.
God’s Messenger,
Holiness, Living.
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 5:03 PM UTC
So, what they call you man!
and you feel you could execute me;
with your lies and selfishness!
Not because your masculinity gets ah hold of you,
you could exploit me!
I cry at nights,
while I hold my thighs,
as you ****** me!
Dang!
My memory is frozen cause you contort me!
You're like a pick pocket!
picking my womanhood.
You torment my me
So, what I am a woman,
Don't frustrate me!
Trying to turn me into Jezebel,
with your ****** calamity.
I'm fed up with this exorcist!
Going to start a Genesis!
A new beginning!
I'm like Daniel,
in the lion's Den;
Not afraid of creatures like you!
So the next time you move,
I cut!
Cut you mentally!
Cut the frustration!
Exploitation!
Your actions!
Liberating myself with my voice!
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC