tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15140588841338386822012-02-11T07:52:50.258ZBeatrice Vnoreply@blogger.comBlogger491100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-86684591474612179452012-01-12T14:58:00.001Z2012-02-11T07:52:50.288Z

Salsa Suite by Gail M. Murray, circa 2006. Member of the Toronto Poetry Club. It begins slowly, easily as friendship. They meet in salsa class over hardwood floors, beads of sweat and sensuous latin music. The students dance in a circular rotation. “Switch partners” the dance instructor calls. He’s coming towards her She looks forward to dancing with him. He makes her laugh, teases

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-78196355388627982932011-12-14T05:22:00.001Z2011-12-14T05:23:11.650Z

By Charles Moffat, Canadian Poet. Love and affectiondoesn't have to be erotic.The joining of two mindsis much more romantic. People who love only sexare really just pathetic.The virtue of karma in relationshipsis such that it makes justice poetic. Finding genuine love and kindnessmakes two lovers positively magnetic.Lust is the mere byproduct of affection,but true love is both prophetic and

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-85992095909497498092011-11-12T14:48:00.000Z2011-11-12T14:48:20.691Z

By Charles Moffat, Canadian Poet. I push you against the wall, ripping your shirt open You push me back, your hands tugging at mine Our kisses are fast, unrelenting and turn into bites We hit the ground in a tumble of clothing I struggle to get on top of you, to find my way inside you I succeed, but you grab me and wrestle me to one side I grab your breasts mercilessly, no time for caution

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-56955854425828003452011-08-21T21:00:00.002+01:002011-08-21T21:05:54.728+01:00

By poet Charles Moffat. Song lyrics often employ double entendres like 'Let Your Love Come Over Me'. One of the best examples I've ever heard is the song Dirty World by the Traveling Wilburys (Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison and Tom Petty). Dirty World By the Traveling Wilburys He love your sexy body, he loves your dirty mind He loves when you hold him when you grab him

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-68064687445600628352011-08-15T05:52:00.004+01:002011-08-15T06:06:19.673+01:00

By fantasy author Charles Moffat. When I say the word "fantasy" I don't mean daydreaming about hot sex in a Brazilian waterfalls... as nice as that sounds, what I actually am talking about is traditional "Sword and Sorcery" fantasy. ie. Conan the Barbarian by fantasy writer Robert E. Howard. (Or Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling, although really, there isn't much eroticism to speak of in Harry Potter

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-69430542641415027042011-05-05T16:47:00.010+01:002011-05-05T18:08:57.071+01:00

By Charles Moffat - May 2011.If you've ever read "The Song of Solomon" you might have asked 'What is this type of writing doing in the Bible?' Most people would not expect to find such explicit, yet highly poetic, descriptions of a sexuality and lovemaking in the Holy Bible.Depending on whom you talk to "The Song of Solomon" is literary smut but it is also one of the greatest examples of

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-18132444814782864012011-05-05T15:22:00.006+01:002011-05-16T17:22:26.981+01:00

Radiating heaven his nakedness,  moonbathing on a dishevelled bed ©2011 Beatrice van de Vis

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-35503608732089684532011-04-26T14:55:00.002+01:002011-05-05T15:34:47.514+01:00

photography by Elaine Eickhoff: Every Angle Photography: Mother's Nature

mysticgmekeeprnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-13105398092761685402011-04-09T18:10:00.005+01:002011-05-16T17:17:17.950+01:00

quivers of ecstasy the fluttering butterfly his lips on the skin... ©2011 Beatrice van de Vis

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-29613114391642118122010-09-18T18:54:00.003+01:002010-09-18T18:58:48.897+01:00

"The underlying affinity between sanctity and transgression has never ceased to be felt. Even in the eyes of believers, the libertine is nearer to the saint than the man without desire" Georges Bataille, Erotism: Death and Sensuality Closet devotions Author: Richard Rambuss,  Duke University Press, 1998 In Closet Devotions, Richard Rambuss traces the relays between these cultural formations by

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-47054239807393236282010-06-23T17:16:00.001+01:002010-08-23T23:54:19.122+01:00

Poetry by Charles Moffat - June 2010.I slide my hand down your back and cup one of your buttocks, pressing you closer to me.Our hips grind together rhythmically, drawn together by wild lust and rampant desire.Your lips are like water to a man traveling the desert sands, never quite quenching my thirst.Amidst all these wild emotions, the letting go of barriers inside my heart I question:Are you

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-4615935380951957342010-04-26T15:26:00.006+01:002010-04-26T15:37:07.189+01:00

L. Macy , ‘Speaking of sex: Metaphor and performance in the Italian madrigal’, Journal of Musicology, 14 (1996), 1–34 Carmina burana, L'incoronazione di Poppea, Poppea, Tristan und Isolde, Tannhäuser, Rigoletto, La traviata, Carmen The inherent irrationalism of music, its dependence on effective patterns of tension and release, pulse and rhythm, and its emphasis on emotion and feeling have

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-42908607225808331562010-04-10T15:39:00.005+01:002010-04-18T12:51:07.503+01:00

Wings of aspirationMuse the music of shynessCollecting vibrations ofMeandering rhymes.Our amazed maiden meetManuscripts sonnets of Different verseBack in our mindAs time glances each others poetry.The thread of tie weavesA different spread of mosaicReaching our kite at another skyWhere cloud narrates The meaning of whitenessAnd rain sketches a seasonOf unique world of living.…… ……

P K Padhynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-91199580137377716942010-02-18T00:17:00.005Z2010-03-03T15:15:04.679Z

Poetry by Charles Moffat - February 2010. When you touch me I feel the temperature change When I touch you I feel your heart quicken When we are together We abandon loneliness and doubt We forget time and lose ourselves in sensual flesh When we aren't together Our minds wander to each other We lose ourselves in lustful daydreams When we come together again Our joy overflows as we surrender to

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-72616179149304201382010-01-27T20:17:00.007Z2011-05-16T17:21:25.530+01:00

. Rain cascading down through  bare branches,  how wondrous --after lovemaking ©2009 Beatrice van de Vis 

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-92034607672606127972009-09-13T14:09:00.004+01:002009-10-01T10:40:03.946+01:00

life sometimes gets too overwhelming that i just want a man to rain upon me Pamela A. Babusci pub. in Notes from the Gean 2009

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-58879243764098214972009-09-13T14:02:00.006+01:002009-10-01T10:40:14.535+01:00

blood-red stilettos the power i feel in them the power i surrender when removed Pamela A. Babusci pub. in Notes from the Gean 2009

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-66189169501894301032009-06-30T23:03:00.017+01:002009-07-10T08:15:52.533+01:00

by Jennifer CarnigJohnny Cash was not known for his philosophical insight, but when he compared being in love to falling into a “Ring of Fire,” he may have been on to something.In Erotikon: Essays on Eros, Ancient and Modern, a new collection of articles just published by the University Press, two-dozen of the world’s leading scholars—half of whom are Chicago faculty members—take on the subject

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-28378701893645310322009-05-17T22:34:00.008+01:002009-07-10T08:16:16.372+01:00

"Cameo cup fragment with lovemaking scene [Roman] (81.10.349)". In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Artby Linda Wolk-SimonIn the intellectually sophisticated milieu of Renaissance Rome, as elsewhere in Italy in the sixteenth century in the decades before the Counter-Reformation, the sacred and the profane were not distinct or separate realms, but rather two

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-61598066432763845502009-03-16T14:01:00.004Z2009-10-01T10:41:15.655+01:00

Even long after my death Long after your death I want to torture you. I want the thought of me to coil around your body like a serpent of fire without burning you. I want to see you lost, asphyxiated, wander in the murky haze woven by my desires. For you, I want long sleepless nights filled with the roaring tom-tom of storms Far away, invisible, unknown Then, I want the nostalgia of my presence

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-27611907329668515742009-03-03T16:44:00.004Z2009-10-01T10:40:54.648+01:00

I still borrow your image in the darkness laying it across the proficiency of my fingers weaving a fantasy with the loom of longing. A wild and unrelenting storm I am in the quiet that awaits dawn. Satiated with satisfaction ; a spent frame quivering like a bow. You play me to perfection with my own touch. In spellbinding creating you wave your ebony magic across my ivory intention and I spill

mysticgmekeeprnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-74337151623414598002009-02-24T13:29:00.009Z2009-02-25T18:01:49.751Z

Book I Elegy V: Corinna in an Afternoon Trans. by J. Lewis May [1930]'TWAS summer, and already past the hour of noon. I flung myself on my couch to rest my limbs. My windows were but half open. The light of my chamber was like the light of the woods, or like the glow which follows after sunset; or father, like the twilight that comes between departing night and dawning day. Such is the light

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-40040143042208449352008-11-04T17:27:00.009Z2010-08-23T23:54:00.540+01:00

By Charles Moffat - 2008.In our youth the schooling system tries to explain how sex works, the anatomy of the body and the importance of using protection such as condoms/the Pill. But there is no time scheduled to discuss the actual mechanisms of sex, foreplay, positions or even matters of romance.So instead we get our information from "more experienced" friends, from the mass media, from books,

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-28773445682143939652008-11-03T10:17:00.009Z2009-10-01T10:41:33.554+01:00

by Pam L. (aka mysticgamekeeper) He nudged against me with remembered movements, sliding himself unto my small frame fitting perfectly into the familiar spaces on my receptive skin. Awakening me with the warmth and the weight of his need. Heartbeat to heartbeat as mine sped up to catch his galloping rhythm; flesh to flesh he pulls me from my midnight sleep with a white hot hand of slippery

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-11599791183061767522008-10-31T19:39:00.013Z2010-08-23T23:54:00.541+01:00

By Charles Moffat - 2008.We all know sex sells, but how far will people go to sell a product? In some cases its more like pornography and I will give you an example.When I was 18 years old I worked in a welding shop building grain buggies and snowblowers and as typical of such a blue collar workplace the men working there had pinups posted on the walls. One of the pinups was of a rather busty

Lilith eZinenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-69858081633721213792008-10-30T19:59:00.014Z2011-05-16T17:20:39.644+01:00

Dusk, the green valleys, your cello bows to the moon, and with each note my breast too, like the strings, stirs with longing, for your touch. ©2008 Beatrice van de Vis 

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-6112044236419329822008-10-30T09:23:00.011Z2009-10-01T10:42:33.145+01:00

By Charles Moffat - 2008. Eroticism in my art is a tricky matter. For me its important to never be sexist, or if I am make it overt so it becomes a blunt statement about stereotypes/etc. Thus portraying the female body in an erotic fashion is a tricky matter because I was long ago labeled a feminist artist. I don't see myself as just a feminist artist however. I am also a political artist and I

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-35952057311122646632008-10-23T09:52:00.009+01:002008-10-24T13:58:52.055+01:00

An analytic, philosophical essay about the aesthetic question: What are the elements that make good erotic art good art and also erotic? - by Rick GarlikovThis essay is a sequel to "A Philosophy of Photography and Some Visual Art In General", and it presupposes some of the ideas explained there. …….I have been fascinated with the question of what makes a painting or photograph seem erotic. For

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-4462229193757148942008-10-12T16:08:00.006+01:002009-10-01T10:42:57.653+01:00

tonight the moon is devoid of lovers to view it & fall in love with it's pure white moonbeams and, i am lost in a past reverie, lost in a hurricane of kisses like a beggar craving longing starving for violet intimacy for blue dangling love juices i go down to the river of pastel passions flowing with the current flowing against the current i ride the rapids like an expert who never falls

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-89243131198733385422008-10-02T10:46:00.008+01:002011-05-16T17:20:12.233+01:00

a mouse clicking on the inbox speaks of love inside the box thoughts of love -turn to lust at the cybercafe she writes giddy verse lust- moist ©2007 Beatrice van de Vis 

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-33081639956431608882008-08-13T12:29:00.008+01:002011-05-16T17:19:45.599+01:00

counting the colours of the rainbow, I stop at red, pomegranate dark and wet -fiery imprints on your skin of last night's lipstick kisses  ©2007 Beatrice van de Vis 

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-1210211708669068162008-08-09T20:34:00.005+01:002011-05-16T17:19:05.016+01:00

Pomegranate Stained lips on billet-doux Red suffused screen A wanton dream Parades undressed, proud. How it weeps, the dark Sommnolent at dusk Scent of succulent red fruit 0h.... how hard we are! ©2007 Beatrice van de Vis

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-73813547558991099532008-07-25T13:36:00.007+01:002009-10-01T10:45:05.775+01:00

plucking her eyebrows the crescent moon a myriad of stars he brings her day-old flowers two to tango her rhinestone ankle bracelet shatters the feel of stain sheets his roughness whispering sweet nothings a note in her journal morning breaks he leaves via the fire escape winter wind airing out his left behind boxers Pamela A. Babusci First published in Raw Nervz Haiku VII:4 2001-2002

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-4403299210010742012008-07-25T12:59:00.008+01:002009-10-01T10:48:59.534+01:00

wet moon french kisses room service for two strawberries & whipped cream do not disturb sign foreign maid enters anyway painters on the seine trying to imitate monet still hungry for each other we feed croissants to the pigeons back at the hotel a sprig of lilacs across my breast french kisses wet moon Pamela A. Babusci First published in Raw Nervz Haiku VI:3 2001

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-36906788242380922822008-07-07T19:47:00.011+01:002009-10-01T10:46:48.334+01:00

The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa (of Avila) by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598-1680) It has long been maintained that mystical ecstasy, also called Bridal Mysticism -achieving "Union with God, or the Beloved" is sublimated sexual desire. As a state of consciousness it can be said to be an altered state (as being in love is) which so called mystics (e.g. St Teresa de Avila) attained though prayer,

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-27516311943309253502008-07-04T12:41:00.008+01:002011-05-16T17:18:33.367+01:00

the morning heat comes in a shroud of cloud today, -a summer in veils, it spreads hidden and silent like your caresses at dawn  ©2007 Beatrice van de Vis

Beatrice Vnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-88607839497676986772008-07-03T13:49:00.003+01:002009-10-01T10:45:41.829+01:00

wiping off my lipstick i taste your mouth... will you long for me tonight when you are as distant as the milky way? Pamela A. Babusci First published in American Tanka Fall 1997 i am as restless as the wind while you sleep like a floating waterlily... how i pine for the return of your affection Pamela A. Babusci First published in American Tanka Spring 1999 your suffocating love--

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-55138863798402313182008-06-24T22:25:00.001+01:002009-10-01T10:49:55.579+01:00

silent bedroom whispers linger in my hair... before you leave one more cup to fill me Pamela A. Babusci First published in Five Lines Down 1995 i am a prisoner in this snowflake melt me Pamela A. Babusci First published in Five Lines Down 1995 at dawn my aching limbs my wanton heart... somehow, somewhere you invaded me Pamela A. Babusci First published in Five Lines Down

Pamela A. Babuscihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17744628721271403324noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-56730052089334217802008-05-14T21:10:00.000+01:002008-11-03T08:57:04.135Z

the nude mannequinin the dress shop window... looks away(Cor van den Heuvel)

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-34855737838710906422008-05-07T17:14:00.003+01:002009-10-01T10:52:08.533+01:00

Your words prick me with pen, And sword and scalpel. They tear the flesh from my heartache; They raise welts on the horizon of my humour. You leave your mark, droppings of meaning Amid my quiet mornings and my lazy midnight meanderings. The cohesion of syllable and song. Two spirits aching experience found lingering on the same note, hidden in the branches of nouns and adjectives, the leaves

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-10962557135887504482008-05-03T22:40:00.002+01:002009-10-01T10:53:39.226+01:00

Excerpt from Pompeii Awakened by Judith Harris "From the earliest findings at Herculaneum, the first Vesuvian site to be rediscovered, and subsequently at Pompeii, the sexual representations, from grave marker in the shape of a phallus to vulgar graffiti and elegant marble carving, were inescapable. The finding of a brothel furthered the dead cities’ aura of dissolution, and, while this

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-4228322818359539982008-04-30T09:09:00.014+01:002008-11-03T08:57:04.138Z

waiting for her loverunder a canopy of blossom;the moist petals, unfurlvan de Vis, Beatrice: "Senryu" published in Ascent Aspirations Anthology No 6 by Ascent Aspirations Publishing, 2008

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-25752059486889087042008-04-29T09:48:00.003+01:002009-01-13T14:09:57.274Z

If any of you who stumble upon this page, is interested to contribute to this blog that it may develop as a discussion platform to explore the links between eroticism art, literature, culture and mysticism, I am interested to hear from you. A team project would be, by far, a more intellectually challenging, rich and interesting experience, than a monologue.You can leave a comment with your

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-18260274701203025972008-04-27T08:07:00.000+01:002008-11-03T08:57:04.139Z

Suddenly the drunken sweetheart appeared out of my door.She drank a cup of ruby wine and sat by my side.Seeing and holding the lockets of her hairMy face became all eyes, and my eyes all hands.Rumi (Trans. Shahram Shiva)

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-13554606184598803772008-04-20T13:26:00.004+01:002009-10-01T10:54:34.176+01:00

Two thousand years ago, sage Vatsyayana wrote his landmark manuscript, the Kamasutra (erotic codes). One thousand years later, the Chandella kings (950-1050 A.D.) built one of the finest groups of temples in India, depicting erotic positions, at their capital Khajuraho. About five centuries later, king Kallarasa of Karnataka wrote an important treatise on the subject, "Janavashya" (1450 A.D.) in

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-50131535214916485142008-04-19T09:46:00.002+01:002009-10-01T10:54:19.535+01:00

Helmut Newton, born Helmut Neustädter (October 31, 1920, Berlin,Germany – January 23, 2004, West Hollywood, California, USA) was a German-Australian fashion photographer noted for his nude studies of women. In the words of the fashion photographer Paolo Roversi, Helmut Newton "took fashion photography into a totally unexplored terrain, treating eroticism with elegance and elegance with

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-89415694215413103672008-04-18T23:48:00.008+01:002008-11-03T08:57:04.140Z

pillow dreams for two;he steals into her wet dream,at dawn- the lust thiefvan de Vis, Beatrice: "Senryu" published in Ascent Aspirations Anthology No 6 by Ascent Aspirations Publishing, 2008

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-15476392414811699442008-04-18T14:46:00.002+01:002009-10-01T10:54:01.129+01:00

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1514058884133838682.post-24968311957757666982008-04-12T12:29:00.005+01:002009-10-01T10:46:02.309+01:00

cello suite-- between her open legs deep and high notes Serge Tome an open window rain scent washes away the smell of our love Gina Hamm plucking a camelia he enters the moonlit bedchamber Pamela A. Babusci pussy willows... he opens her for the first time Pamela A. Babusci

Wordcrafternoreply@blogger.com0