This was always a crowd favorite at Spoken Word venues.
An Ode to Pussy
Much has been written about the female genitalia from The Vagina Monologues To Penthouse Forum.
Countless euphemisms have been created to describe this most exquisite of all butterflies, most considered vulgar, and some may get you slapped.
This draws my ire for one to show disdain for one of the God's' 'most exquisite creations, to degrade something so exquisite, for in my humble opinion, the Gods' most beautiful creation is the female form, and the charge of the Goddess states "all acts of love and sex are my worship", and worship it I do, for I see aspects of Goddesses in many women. So to me it is an alter to worship at, to pay homage to, something sacred and holy.
My favorite word for it is ..pussy...
It implies something warm, and loving, something you want to pet and make purr. Besides, it feels good in your mouth: pussy... pussy... pussy...
In my thoroughly debauched life, I have had the pleasure to worship at many of these alters and consider myself a bit of a connoisseur, like some are with fine wine or good cigars. Being well-endowedwith an exceptional sense of smell and taste, I can assure you that each one is truly unique, unlike any other, each a sculpture more breathtaking and unique than any snowflake, though they both melt in your mouth.
I once knew a girl who tasted peppery, while another tasted vaguely of garlic. And I remember a girl who cried tears of joy, because she had never known such pleasure existed.
The smell, which sometimes wafts in the air as a woman passes by, (and I can smell it in the air), is one of the strongest intoxicants I know, like Thai Stick, or a ball of Afghani hash. It is my opium, turning all thought into clouds of smoke that drift away and only She exists, an altered state that brings my strongest instincts to the forefront and stirs the spirits in me like little can.
I love nothing more than to bury my head between womanly thighs and spend hours worshiping at the alter speaking the Goddess' praises with my tongue: like a holy roller in church, I am filled with the spirit. Each moan, each twitch, each spasm, drives me further in to a frenzy until we are both too spent to move.
I have tasted pussy so sweet and succulent, sticky and messy like over ripe fruit, pussy that made me heady and lose my sense of space and time, a place where only the alter and my worship mattered, locked in a dance, responding to each subtle groan, gyration, breathless whisper, and caress, each sensation of deeper relaxation and tension, each fighting for control, a mixture so intoxicating it sometimes blinded me to the treachery that She nursed, waiting for the right moment to drive it home and watch the look of shock and disappointment register in my eyes and ravage my soul, bleeding and ragged, contorted into some gnarled monument to Her betrayal. At times it has made me foolhardy and stupid, worshiping at alters that did not deserve printed praise or sacred offerings given.
And afterwards, to enter the divine alter, to feel it wrapped, throbbing and undulating around my manhood as the lovers' dance is performed to its inevitable climax is a ritual more ancient and magickal as any performed in any witches' circle.
So to those of you to degrade, defile, and deride this sacred alter, I have little understanding ,sympathy, or mercy for these are the goddesses incarnate: Venus, Shelia-Na-Gig, Kali Ma, Brigit and her Divine well, and even bloody Morrigan.
And I will worship at the alter with abandon
An Ode to Pussy
Much has been written about the female genitalia from The Vagina Monologues To Penthouse Forum.
Countless euphemisms have been created to describe this most exquisite of all butterflies, most considered vulgar, and some may get you slapped.
This draws my ire for one to show disdain for one of the God's' 'most exquisite creations, to degrade something so exquisite, for in my humble opinion, the Gods' most beautiful creation is the female form, and the charge of the Goddess states "all acts of love and sex are my worship", and worship it I do, for I see aspects of Goddesses in many women. So to me it is an alter to worship at, to pay homage to, something sacred and holy.
My favorite word for it is ..pussy...
It implies something warm, and loving, something you want to pet and make purr. Besides, it feels good in your mouth: pussy... pussy... pussy...
In my thoroughly debauched life, I have had the pleasure to worship at many of these alters and consider myself a bit of a connoisseur, like some are with fine wine or good cigars. Being well-endowedwith an exceptional sense of smell and taste, I can assure you that each one is truly unique, unlike any other, each a sculpture more breathtaking and unique than any snowflake, though they both melt in your mouth.
I once knew a girl who tasted peppery, while another tasted vaguely of garlic. And I remember a girl who cried tears of joy, because she had never known such pleasure existed.
The smell, which sometimes wafts in the air as a woman passes by, (and I can smell it in the air), is one of the strongest intoxicants I know, like Thai Stick, or a ball of Afghani hash. It is my opium, turning all thought into clouds of smoke that drift away and only She exists, an altered state that brings my strongest instincts to the forefront and stirs the spirits in me like little can.
I love nothing more than to bury my head between womanly thighs and spend hours worshiping at the alter speaking the Goddess' praises with my tongue: like a holy roller in church, I am filled with the spirit. Each moan, each twitch, each spasm, drives me further in to a frenzy until we are both too spent to move.
I have tasted pussy so sweet and succulent, sticky and messy like over ripe fruit, pussy that made me heady and lose my sense of space and time, a place where only the alter and my worship mattered, locked in a dance, responding to each subtle groan, gyration, breathless whisper, and caress, each sensation of deeper relaxation and tension, each fighting for control, a mixture so intoxicating it sometimes blinded me to the treachery that She nursed, waiting for the right moment to drive it home and watch the look of shock and disappointment register in my eyes and ravage my soul, bleeding and ragged, contorted into some gnarled monument to Her betrayal. At times it has made me foolhardy and stupid, worshiping at alters that did not deserve printed praise or sacred offerings given.
And afterwards, to enter the divine alter, to feel it wrapped, throbbing and undulating around my manhood as the lovers' dance is performed to its inevitable climax is a ritual more ancient and magickal as any performed in any witches' circle.
So to those of you to degrade, defile, and deride this sacred alter, I have little understanding ,sympathy, or mercy for these are the goddesses incarnate: Venus, Shelia-Na-Gig, Kali Ma, Brigit and her Divine well, and even bloody Morrigan.
And I will worship at the alter with abandon
shesinparties:
you are a good man 