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    • tonyv

      Blogs   05/01/2017

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partial poem (R)

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okay so... as a part of this series I'm working on I created a scene and would like to know how effective it is or its content is, I would normally not ask but it's kind in a territory I don't travel much in my dark imaginative travels:


One am, diazepam suffusing all

nuances of the weeks ignis fatuus;

charcoal grey heritage field jacket

beset upon the backrest of a black

bar stool, keys clanging as they hit

the obsidian marble top of the

rectangular kitchen island;


Rachael’s eyes shut in fathomless incubus;

my black pinstripe wool pants on the

flint sisal carpet, white casual dress shirt

next to it -- this yen!


Like a seizer from tetragrammaton itself:


An aura of kindling enfolds me,

left then right leg leaving the

black boxers among the days attire,

right hand stroking my half erect

cock, making it harder in my grasp,

oh the ecstasy! Growing in me --

penetrating my heart -- filling my

arteries and veins.


“Joseph... Babe,

that you?”

“Yes, Isolde.”

“How was work?”

She asks haggardly while turning to her back

and opening her eyes to reveal grey pupils,



sorry for not coming home the past few days,”

“s’ kay’, I know you-

What are you doing?”

With agile precision I dash

forward my feet at her knees

over top our darkslategrey blanket,

my left arm acting a linchpin for my

self immolation, hand holding her wrists

tightly against the davies grey backboard;

“what’s wrong with you?”

My smile pious as

my right arm rends the blanket towards

our feet revealing a coarse mons pubis,


“Let me go!”

Feeling the wiggling joints in my hand;

emphatically kissing her, tongue

entering, motions to the left

a schism to my own;

“I’m not up for this tonight Jos-”

My right hand striking with asperity

as the circumcised tip of my dick

teases her labia minora

moving up and down it her legs closing in

but converging with my own.


“Joseph... what is wrong with you?!

Get off a’ me; get the fuck off a’ me!”

Rachael’s legs curled in missionary position,

letting go of her wrists striking again severing skin

around her lips right edge, epistazo coating the upper edge,

manumit hooks grazing my cheek.


Clenching it at the elbow her second lilt

left, then right, a fantoccini led by her forearms;

her legs kicking out in lex talionis being positioned back into

their initial parabol, both arms ceded in the latisimus dorsi’s.


“Joseph -- you’re not yourself!”

his labium embrace algid on my lips

my teeth inflaming his bottoms embrace

gashing it’s flaky surface,

his tightening grip arching my back

the elbows binding, extending my deltoid’s, supraspinatus’,

and subscapularis’.


“Jos- You’re going to-”

His penis’ ingress like Wilhelmina Murray’s

pallid charlatan inflicting my vagina’s

rugae as its gamuts extent singes its ridges

toward decalescence.


“N- No. Stop!”

My legs tussling to obstruct the vacuity in which

Demeter wept, Hades’ ilium tracing my inner thighs

his every thrust exanimate,



Feeling the calidity rise,

my dicks propensity of twelve and a half inches

expeditious within the cavity’s perforation,

my oscilating reaches its crest,

cum courses her cervix and uterus

summarily allaying my hands grip

laying my masseter upon her left breast

nipple hard and skin frore;


I’m whist, room is frigid;

refuse from his eidolon brume

corpulent and miring the sheets

condensing on the contusions and swelling,

Joseph is up and raising his boxers

the warped myrrhors inside his oculars

perched as they discern the final button

of his casual shirt and exit with my reflections:


“It’s not him, It’s not him, It’s not him,”

Curled toward the beds centre, arms crossed.


- Jeremy Swyck


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Despite the uncharted territory insofar as the content is concerned, I think your style shines through. You've used the switch in narrator voice well in other works, and I think it's effective in this one, too (the toggle back and forth between speakers effect).


Also, you've adequately captured the element of sexual violence by switching back and forth between scientific/medical descriptors and erotic vocabulary that appeals to the more prurient interest. Had you included only the crass, the content would seem less plausible and therefore would be less effective in conveying the violence, leaning more toward erotica.


Overall, the piece is replete with impressive vocabulary. The dialog works well, too. The ending is a shocker.



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thanks tony.

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honestly i think a third person narrator would work best for this thru out the whole write. you use latin/ scientic/ medical terminology to mixed in with erotica languistic verbalization. i had to look up ike ten words. now i am able to get the jist of each notion of the words you inked in your poem with reference to latin/ medical terminoogy/ scientific expression since this may or may not be your fortay. i call tell some of the termonoly is used maybe a little to loosely frigid wise and also you looked forced as a writer instead of feeing relaxed and in control of your writing. you were looking to please the reader instead of being natural. i think you captured everything perfectly in understaning, but that being said your verbalization choices didn't flow with each voice. read your poem and you will catch my drift. i can't spell or i would write stuff no one understands because i encorporate latin, greek. hebrew, german, spanish, portagues, aramaic. english, french, and italain in my writings and i still had to look up like ten words in your prose poem. when i use these other language words you know exactly what i mean even if i wrote garbage. your writing i know had to take a long time to compose, if you know all of those vocabulary sources you are to smart for me. writings are suppose to be their own entity and taka life of there own. you painted a picture properly but the cancas was not mounted properly. that is the only i can explain this. other then that i pretty much agree with tony. the story goes well from person to person well. but the narrator does come in choppy with terms like it is to perfect to tell the tale acutely or astecticly. i hope i spelt that last word proper.




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I have a problem with third person writing as that's far too common but... the latin isn't intended it's just the names of the muscles in medical terms as the series is written in such a way much like my first one was, but thanks for the look Victor. :icon_sunny:

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hi astrect. don;t get me wrong, this is a very articulate writing and you have to be intellignt to write something like this. this is a very good poem. the imagery here might be one of the richer i have ever read for a poem. i honestly i believe the only thing needed here is different placement of the vocabuary used here.





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