20 July 2013



She was a succubus

She sucked and fucked my brains out

The red sun of desire

Never set on her cage

Trapped in morbid delectation

She was easily ensnared

Never one to pass up a good thing

Full of fictional gestures

And evasive maneuvers

I could never say the words

She wanted so much to hear

She grew to despise me

I can hardly blame her

In the end I was her jailer



  1. Captivating and penetrating punk rock poetry

  2. Thank you for your kind comment Natasha, not one of my best, but I posted it anyway because there is an underlying truth in it somewhere.

  3. this is art!
    the imagery is good!
    "...the red sun of desire never set...".
    "...fictional gestures..." and "...evasive maneuvers..." were perfect, e.g., no superfluous adjectives here!
    "...she was trapped in morbid delectation (unpleasant pleasure - my interpretation)..." at the beginning and then you end with "In the end I was her jailer". A great move to take me back to the beginning.
    I love this poem!

    1. Thank you for your wonderful comment Mimi - your approbation is very much appreciated coming as it does from an accomplished writer such as yourself.