mydarkcalling

NAMIO HARUKAWA: PROBABLY THE BEST FEM-DOM FETISH ARTIST ON THE PLANET. There appears to be more books available of his work, than there were just a couple years ago (and those books were out-of-print and quite expensive). Of course one could just Google him and have access to many of his incredible images of a Female Dominated World/Reality.  

...wreckage floating in oceans of blood...

hypothermia

the moon fell 

black

behind winter 

trees, 

while the cold 

clubbed my hands

and feet 

nonexistent ---

borderline 

stone. 

the snow was 

crystalline powder.

i stumbled in 

semiconsciousness. 

i was delirious...

and dying...

but you walked 

behind me 

naked and 

beautiful,

unaffected by the 

frozen world. 

when i fell, 

you kissed me 

restoring me 

sickening me 

you prodded 

me on...  

aurora borealis 

shimmered 

through 

cassiopeia 

and all at 

once 

i saw stars 

piercing clouds 

coffins floating 

through space 

and oceans 

in your palms .-- 

your hair 

became the night 

your skin 

the snow and

my body became 

frozen stone 

your oracle 

on this world .  

Song to the Great Goddess 

i am empty 

i am ego-less 

i have no soul 

i almost don't exist -- 

the line between being 

and not , is a transparent 

caul stretched over 

the earth woven with 

blood and rock . 

i am anonymous 

i am outside history 

i don't belong to my time -- 

i exist only for Her -- 

building Her temples , 

obelisks , cathedrals . 

i labor alone , 

lose my identity and 

become Her instrument -- 

empty , empty , empty as creation 

dark offering 

let me

dissolve into you...

absorb me-- 

reconfigure me 

reprogram me...

reshape me 

like clay --

throw me on

the wheel...

i'll empty 

myself for you --

pour your ethereal 

toxins into me -- 

paralyze me-- 

destroy me-- 

devour me--  

recreate me...

i'll be your saint -- 

and drown in 

the Ganges -- 

your river 

your water 

your love 

hephaestus  

for billions of years,

i've dredged the sea floor's 

mud and sediment.  

i've piled and folded 

them skyward,  

lifting the shores of 

Her continents, 

to build Her Mountains.  

She goads without mercy.

whipping me relentlessly,

while i painfully labor--

muscles and sinews 

strained to failure. 

She almost destroys me--

i would let Her...

i would let Her...

i would work myself 

to death for Her.

however, the pain and exhaustion 

transfigure me--

endless effort becomes effortless--

i dissolve into earth 

and become volcanic and molten--

the forge of the world

i am a ruin 

filled with art--

acropolises/necropolises 

temples, cathedrals, pyramids,

volumes of poetry,

numerous scores,

piled to the pendentives, 

hundreds of films,

paintings--leonardos

raphaels hung

on walls of bone--

all in disarray--

uncataloged--

trapped in the ruins,

buried under centuries. 

please excavate with care,

for i may crumble 

to nothing 

stainglassshatter

stained

glass shattered 

heart .--

i never 

learn 

that the delusion 

becomes 

the 

reality --

and 

reality a 

great void 

of sadness .-- 

the delusion/

fantasy

is the 

only hope 

to sink 

and drown 

in selflessness -- 

ecstasy -- 

complete destruction -- 

among forsythias 

lilacs --

bones 

of the dead

dark solstice  

it may not even 

matter 

anymore if you 

can never be real --

beyond imaginings .--

yet, i still dissolve 

in your heart 

that pulses 

inside me 

and the most 

distant and ancient 

quasars .--

i realize 

you become  

manifest in 

different women , 

throughout my life --

changing faces --

my dark moon ...

( i crawl 

through your dolmen 

portal 

into an icy darkness --

the granite floor 

covered 

with bones 

and smashed 

skulls ) . 

(Tiamat) 

Her hooks tightly clamp me to her body, 

As she melts away and becomes a typhoon 

Torn ocean. But the hooks hold fast 

And pierce my back as I sink under. 

There are mountains under the sea, and 

Gigantic unfoldings of new tectonic plates. 

Humpback whales sing plaintive songs 

That echo into the trenches of unconscious black. 

The ocean is cinerarium star ash. 

The liquids from Narmer, Buddha, Christ 

And Blake all fuse together here. 

All the world's dead float and decay here.--

All the semen, urine and blood roil through 

Orgasmic spasms. Then I back away. 

And she solidifies into my lover on the bed.--

My Mistress, from the silent abyssal plains.