Daily Archives: June 7, 2013

lets hope it’s not too smelly

I am in a carriage

This carriage is wood

Decor of gilded frames

The cushions are soft

Covered in velvet I oft, sit upon their comfort whilst going to Sir James

I’m gilded too, from my collar to my shoes, in jewels I am enamored by their glare

Through town I shall ride, with greatness and pride, whilst the townsfolk stop what they are doing and stare

I hide my grey eyes and with repulsion I gulp, trying not to take in the air

The stench it is rancid my throat burns like acid

The peasantry aren’t pleasantries I swear

All this for a game of croquet, I wish I was elsewhere

But my father had ordered that it’s good for the soul and I’m sure there’s more to it, I know

For Sir James is quite rich and I am sure he might pitch, a marriage proposal so I’ll go

I like Sir James, he is quite amusing though why live here, it is quite confusing

But we’ll see when we’ve entered his big shiny gates, whether or not he has made this mistake

For you never can quite tell, whether or not inside, there’s that smell that will make you cockeyed

For as a country girl I know, that the smells of the doe cannot be noticed within

So let’s sit back and hope very much, that it is the same with him!

 

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Filed under Poems J - L

For you are not perfect, I say

A tragedy is when humanity has lost its compassion for its fellow man

To cause him grief whenever you can

To comment of how he looks and lives

Yet you know him not

How can you do this, will you stop?

You are tearing lives apart by words

You have the voice of cowards

If things were turned and you were scorned for how you looked today

How would you feel when you get home, after you’ve walked away?

For you are not perfect, I say

It isn’t a laugh when you’ve said those things about a person’s weight

It isn’t funny when you’ve hurt your classmate

For her scars

For her red hair

It doesn’t matter, but you should care

A joke is not the excuse for causing her despair

Stop this hatred, stop it soon

Or someday judgment will bring your doom

I’m not talking religion here, but someday nasty words you’ll hear

And it won’t be you who is giving them

It will be another who’s chosen you to condemn

You are not perfect I say, but what you have now; let’s hope you keep it, hey?

For you never know what might happen

An accident to your face may rapine

I give you no threats but a warning

Don’t monish peoples adorning

For you are not perfect, I say.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Poems D - F

Bathroom Spider

There was a spider in the bath

Scratching it’s way to the top

But he kept falling back down

and it’s trying never stopped

I left a towel over the rail for it to get out

I hope it doesn’t find the bedroom or my husband will have to throw it out!

Next morning I found it, safe and snug

in a web it made

hanging over the bath, it looked happy it had made today

I saw it sitting there like a ninny

waiting for flies to catch

what a silly place to make a web I said to the spider

then a fly it snatched

it’s still there, now it’s evening sitting on it’s hearth

I hope it’ll be gone when I get back, it’s time to have my bath!

But no, dinner was done and it was still there, staring into a void

remembering that fateful day when it’s life was almost devoid

My husband I called to get it out, I need a restful bath

and now that spider has been evicted, I can rest at last!

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For a prized posession

How carefully I held that diamante choker

Looking fondly at his little gesture

A marriage proposal usually demands a ring

But this trinket made my heart sing

For a prized possession demands nothing

 

This poem is written for the BDSM community; for those who don’t understand it’s sentiments, it is about a woman who devotes her life to the pleasure and calling of others, in two words a “consensual slave” (a person who consents to becoming a slave because they enjoy living their lives purely for another person’s benefit).  Some people find this kind of existence very rewarding, they can’t imagine living what they believe to be a selfish life, and a life of freedom is a selfish life because you are always thinking for yourself, some people can’t make simple decisions on their own life because they’ve been raised in such a dominating atmosphere as children, like me.

Before I met Paul I wanted to become such a person “a consensual slave” because I never thought I could make any decisions whatsoever for myself; Paul helped me realize that actually I am naturally leading, this doesn’t tally well with people who take on a slave lifestyle.

I was for a short term period a slave for a man.  He didn’t use me sexually like most people believe would happen, nor did he beat me to a pulp which people disbelieve.  I was his assistant, I helped clean his home and talk to him from time to time and he would give me little tasks for me to complete, this was to build me up to become a better person.  A more relaxed and confident person, now you can have confidence and be a slave, don’t get that wrong.

The only BDSM type punishments I would get were; if I put myself down, called myself ugly or stupid, he would force me to become naked, sit in front of a mirror, stare at myself for a while, then write down lines on a piece of paper “I am beautiful” 100 times, if by the end of that punishment I didn’t believe those sentiments he made me sit in front of him and I would receive clothes pegs on various parts of my body, that I particularly hated and was made to love them.

Sounds a little extreme for some people, but it did amazing things for my self-image.

He was a guy I ran away to before I met Paul, as I mentioned before, I ran away frequently.

People say, but he sounds very abusive, believe me, he was an angel compared to my mum – at least he wanted me to be myself and have a good outlook on my image and wanted me to have self-esteem, she would shatter that esteem as much as she could when I was with her.  So, if I had to choose between two evils in my life, I would rather him for an eternity than my own mother!

He spoiled me and refused to call me my given birth name – he insisted I was his princess and princess was to become my name.

He gave me a very cheap, but beautiful diamante choker as a token of my dedication to him and his dedication to me, unfortunately this relationship had to end as he got involved with a poly girl who was jealous and she scared the hell out of me, a bully she was and he wanted us to make peace, he even wanted to train me to stand up to her and knock her overblown confidence down as he felt it was something I needed but I didn’t want another life of warfare and the battle of the wits, so I swallowed my pride and went back to my mum.  I always went back to her when things didn’t work out with others, she didn’t care if I was there or not, but whenever I was living in her house she made it hard for me to leave again.  This isn’t because I kept running away though, she was like that before my first ever attempt at leaving.  So you can’t go blaming me for it.

Some dominants or masters as they’re called, don’t like sexually using girls all the time, they don’t always go in for humiliation or pain play, they just enjoy guiding girls and women to self-improvement, most want a woman whose reversed hen-pecked like stereotypical housewives, stepford wives, disciplined only if they burn dinner etc., but it’s all loving, it’s just a little bit of rough hanky panky and you’ll be surprised how many people love that kind of life.

There has been a couple of masters in the past, who doesn’t want anyone to change themselves whatsoever, they just want you to be with them forever and as a consensual slave, you always stick by people who want you and keep you, you don’t go leaving them at your own whim unless they affect your well-being so much that you have no choice.  It’s much different than the relationship between my mother and I too, yes she dominated me and I was a locked up abused girl for years, but it’s much more different when it’s a man who’s not related to you and a man who are on the kinder spectrum of this lifestyle.  Yes you get idiots, who are the stereotypical bastard male chauvinistic pigs, but generally, they’re not like that and you get a stupid few of anything bad in every other lifestyle, not just BDSM.

I’m not promoting BDSM; I am merely giving you my two cents on the subject, because there are a lot of misconceptions out there that needs to be erased.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Poems D - F