TORCHING THE STY

Dear hopeful one,

I have scars on my wrists and hands from this holy raging fire. Pulling out prayers written on tiny folded up pieces of paper that missed the spark when you went astray. I will find you in the spitting flames when you don’t know how to pitch the fork…and I will bring you back to the embers of supplication that hear your moaning and make you forever blissfully mine. I have bumps and bruises from being hit by horned rage and still I stood fixed solid and I took it like a sun filled man of light. I have nowhere else to go but where my darker, heavier sister lies…in a sheetless, messy bed with me, on top of you, as a dormant, volcanic flash of a pagan God. Genius unspoken and left undiscovered, I saw you barely walking and I said, “Come over here, you look like you just spent everything you had” and you said, “I’m empty” but I already knew -and it doesn’t matter anyway when my fingers are already broken off inside of you -digitless- no more one plus one- and it happens because I am pushing on dangerous things -adding it up…the monkey dangles from the stake- and he’s green and  horny -and it hurts to get hurt, but the foul smelling lie never changes, when you pray for wet snow in the sweltering summer, nothing happens…nothing yet anyway. That’s really all I meant to say. Sometimes even god is impotent. Don’t push the dire truth away from the letter you threw -and don’t blame God for my deathtrap mistakes -and don’t be so sad that I didn’t answer you sooner -because I am busy burning my flesh and breaking my back and starving my guts out for you…
I never forgot all your wormholes and nobody squirms but me, your velvet dagger stabbing my picture, your fragrant sound listening inside of my voice, your fermented wounds infecting my ageless body and your lightening rod rooted deep inside of my soulful, animal eyes. Bodies melt and they always will. Time fades and death kills everything. Memories surface and then drown deep inside, nothing goes forgotten only submerged. Faces float in the water as the menace of cold missing things and we get limp going deeper to find me smoldering and slimy and climbing up your danger zone where bombs explode and we can’t say anything that makes any sense…just below the surface of this visionary consummation- where I am always beside you, inside you, consuming flesh and prospect and pulling your loss into me. Blindly I breathe searching for more breath…breathlessly caught in a welded, brainless embrace…I’m telling you the real reason for my life, I’m telling you that I am an ethereal line and hook sinking, looking for you under plundered waters…into what lies beneath you, I bore and pierce the last unknown place. I never go to sleep until we are one again and again…and since good and bad seem to tirelessly mock me…I have a message for you coming from above…
Don’t get me wrong with all my sweet sentiment, I’m not on some moral high horse-I’ll fuck almost anything that gets hard and you’re no exception. Once that snake rises, all hell breaks loose and I’m more than happy to get on and get off repeatedly. I’m not looking to feel loved, I’ve got love covered in the other room…seriously, and a flame is a spanking flame is a serpent goddess dancing like a swan…and I don’t even want a face or a name or a feather because that’s not what I ever desire…I desire base flesh into pungent fire, give it up to my faceless godfire, your big head broke open by me -and your pitiful spiritual name…holding onto an advanced version of heaven sent- it’s all disguised as abject horror subjugating anything reasonable- and I’m still turning tricks anyway regardless of investments lost…I don’t exist to you in the same way that you don’t really matter to me- and I’m as void as a vortex inside plunging or purging as a saint or a sinner… I’m happily vexing like a pliable, retrograde worshiper of all hidden and forbidden things- and so no love is ever lost here in my wandering eyes or wherever you look- I’m as cool as an unknown side effect -you’re only getting her wildest fire from me and why? Cause I’m burning out of control….and what I’ve got for you is the hottest socket that electrocutes the biggest baddest shark. It’s more than just any open, lawless fire made by some trained boy scout-no WAY. This raven screeching bitch burns now on the immediate spot of annihilation- let me out. I am your exhalation -AND the bigger the tooth the badder the bite. You aren’t anything rock hard like the secret books describe and you aren’t nearly as ready as She Who Is As Red As Blood because she gave death some time off today….so this scouring rage isn’t even remotely carnal enough to spur or buck me off the bull….not a thorn or a thicket sharp enough to poke all my christian places enough to evoke a sexier kind of less boring penance….a penance requiring a whip or a studded belt. “Nope not I” said the one getting nailed. Hahaha! So get off that morbid, stillborn, stick up your ass cross and do something real with your time…because I do care about you and tomorrow is not coming EVER -and I do love whoever you are- otherwise you don’t exist…so it doesn’t really even matter if I’m alive or dead it only matters that I’m fed the head- the hardwire of baseless desire is all she requires….until now, this meltdown between us isn’t a spark that lights up the room without friction- and that takes fast hard rubbing…and a good wet grip. I think we do see eye to eye…or you know, face in the forbidden place and then beyond…the warm and wet open mouth and the swollen and determined tongue is my idea of a good time…a good time creating endless wreckage on a sweaty, dirty floor covered in pig skin and squeals, moving forward, torching the sty…eating pig is fine with me.

So anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.
Until next time…
bacon and grease and
fat sexy asses…poking the pudge
and eating the pudding.
OINK OINK OINK
I’m all good.
Sharada Devi

12 thoughts on “TORCHING THE STY”

  1. You call and shave and look and fall and know the pig is on top of her head and she is dancing in the sky of your out breath going into space. AAh Sha SaMa Ha oh yeah baby. The thunderbolt guru came up to me in the parking lot of eternity and he pulled out his rod and the one eyed snake sent amrit down my leg like a dog and i cupped my hand and caught a stream and drank it up like the headless naked queen.
    For you see, I am she alone and free on the diamond sea of all eternity. Mind to mind merge and shine like a very old and fine wine. Drink deep of this ocean of suffering, mad monkeys running for shelter from the rain of bliss. My life is a song the sun sings aah before the thought popped up like a hard dick looking for a fuck hole. Then we are space and lost our head so drink up the piss and eat the shit of this wounded world. New york, new york the dogs run free and KALI came to live with me and kills and spills her madness into my dreams of sadness. My guru father monkey god who hung upon a cross, came to me and he looked at me and I washed his lotus feet in a bucket of water and I drank it all and everthing and then went to sleep in the field and woke up in the rising sun.
    baba bhagavan das

    1. the heart is a magnet.
      the face and body
      are it’s subject.
      just like the waves
      belong to the ocean,
      beneath the surface
      she lives as longing…
      if only we knew
      what we’ve done
      to ourselves…

  2. This torch of the sty implies much more than meets this eye
    since it’s way too deep to dig into for me
    I will instead share the trigger that it flashed through my brainpan…
    Once upon a time, there was a short term source of income
    that took this one to the home of a very strange rich woman.
    I ran the vacuum and I mopped the floors and I
    polished up the handle on the big front door…
    and weekly removed the pink sheets where she slept with her pig
    always wondering what manner of porcine passion
    might have taken place there over the past 7 days
    swine hair with the consistency of porcupine quills
    shaken off into the breeze before loading up the maytag
    bizarre visions of porking danced through my head
    so I tidied and cleaned her crazy Grey Gardens
    while she was off a’riding in her horse stables below
    end of story.

      1. I love you SO much!
        I CAN NOT stop laughing…!!!
        ain’t no place safe from the I spy sty camera
        Tears R flowing hysterically
        hey, it’s u & me kiddo…
        am still laughing
        or as they say in the parlance
        of our times….
        LOL

        🙈 🐽 😱

        1. i used to be a vacuum for god
          i stopped working and the angels in thier heaven wouldnt clean me on account of me being too dirty so now i clean my self and let the wiggling pig sty burn. Took my horse out of the race. Its my turn to give back ho ho ho!

    1. the string moves alone
      the music quivers
      the black box
      one and then the other
      we die inside
      singing
      the lover’s song
      as white noise

      you are a mystic
      as free as forever❄️✨

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