Thursday, June 5, 2014

Voices ©2002 Steven Willows + an untitled explicit freewriting poem

Another entry from Steve.  I like this one better than the first.  It speaks to my soul.


I stand at the cliff,
one foot in the air.
Flies blaspheme and buzz
in a halo over my head

With the heavens on fire,
a pillar of salt below,
the voices of angels
rage at my soul.

Are they demons or angels,
virtues or sins?
Should I listen to Heaven
while Sodom grows dim?

Never grasping the divine,
Never grasping the design,
my frail, stubborn mind,
Praise be to my God. (note..  a handwritten note beside this line said to change it to "My endless sins.")


and embrace the fiend;
use only when passion.  (note.  handwritten in "pride")
         the soul.

I shall give you one more strange one for this night...
It looks like free writing but is quite interesting.
I hope you find it so, as well.

It is explicit so don't complain that you weren't warned.

This passage has no title.

Write without stopping whopping Whopper juicy tender delicious meat.  Good book stay up all night and read. If I didn't have to sleep.  I could read and write all the time, with some time off for good behavior.  Good behavior like good neighbors trickles down into oblivion down down down into the abyss.  I love that word abyss.  It's so . . . abyssal.  Ha ha.  I made a funny, honey.  I'd love to fuck Lee Tatum over and over again, making her cum with my excellent tongue.  Yum yum.  I wonder where she is and what she is doing now.  Probably in bed sleeping, or getting fucked by some stud who materialized from the cover of Playgirl magazine.  Fuck fuck fuck.  Are all men obsessed with sex?

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