Takato's Poetry

Go To The Ball

I shook my hips like a woman that night.
I glossed lipstick onto me,
red like fruit juice,
and pulled my skirt down
to cover my thighs,
(harry things that looked like monsters.)

I hid myself beneath skirts
that were too small
and nail polish
from the dollar store.
Stiletto pumps tapping against concrete.
A gift from a godmother.

"Don't forget your shoes,
or be chased by some stalker
Prince Charming" She told me.

Though a kiss from a man
isn't always sweeter,
So I lurked beneath the guise
of a women who couldn't afford
a nice looking wig.

The Godmother's magic hadn't worked all the way.
It still shook when I danced,
and it still showed when I sat
cross legged on the buses riding
down to God-Knew-Where.
Hanging down like an ornament
that couldn't be removed.

It was almost midnight,
the spell would be broken.

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There was this guy I knew.
He told me how he had sex with
his cat once,
and how he liked to
grab knives from his kitchen
counter and sneak away
into his bathroom.

He sliced his leg open,
and clawed into his wound
with his finger nails.
Blood dripped onto
the bathroom tile
(still soaked with piss
that never made it to
the toilet)

He told me of his lover,
a man who liked to burn
things and smoke Luckies
when no one was around.
"He looks sort of like a cat"
He told me.

"That's great"
I told him as I moved aside
to let him pass.
His bandaged leg hanging in the air,
as if afraid to touch the ground
for fear of breaking.

I had heard that the rain was
the piss of God.

If so, then God's a pervert.

I had seen men in their thirties
dance in the rain, as if it were
the only thing that could take
them to their desires.
Arm pits and ties soaked to the fabric.
Ten dollar shoes shooting the water
into the air like the bare feet of children.
Without an umbrella.
Mouths open to taste the rain,

I walked on with my umbrella overhead.

"God's a pervert".

Scribble your name on Winter's face

There were times
when I pissed in the snow
just to see if it would melt.
Yellow plastered on white like a painting.
I spelled my name.

I let the wind feel my ass cheeks
like the hands of a stranger.
My fingers, raw and frozen,
(pieces of frostbitten meat)
felt distant from my body.

My tongue waved, tasting Winter's breast.
My penis shook into her body.
I was making love to her,
love to a frigid stranger who
touched my hair with palms of ice and frost.

"Lick my ears and make them fall off"

My dick grew numb,
I had forgotten about the pool of
heavy pants and underwear around my ankles.

My father found me,
and dragged me home.
His leather belt whipping against
the back of my legs,
leaving marks of red (where the belt had tasted my skin)
to mingle with the blue numbness Winter had left me.

He must have been angry,
and why shouldn't he have been?
Me, allowing my body to be touched by another.
Tasting their skin, and wrapping myself in their arms.

I was cheating on him.

Bathroom Secrets 101

Called me a fudge packer
and walked off.
Was it wrong that I wanted to clinch
his dick with my fingertips?

We were friends,
(that's what he said we were)
He liked to feel the breasts of a women
and I liked to think of him when I played with myself.

He taught me how to masturbate.

There were stains on my bed sheets
from the practice.
My penis started to turn red.

Dusty nights hid my naked body
like the arms of a father.
The blankets around me sizzled, baking me.
(Hot, like the men who hide their shame from the eyes of the world)
but casting them aside would be like letting go of it...

"Slide up, lean your chin back, and breathe."
A technique he taught me.
"Feels fuckin' good, doesn't it?"

He called me a fudge packer,
punched me in my face
and walked off.
I fell to the dirt, (it tasted like blood),
and now I jack off to that memory.

God sits in Eden wandering if the Sun can play "Old Maid"

Did you know that God hates women?

God created a being form his left rib,
(A creature he called Adam)
God loved Adam, and he dreamed
of holding Adam in his palms,
and brushing back his hair.
Whenever the sun sneaked
below the horizon to play cards
with the clouds God would
sit and wank off to the thought
of his son.
(A phenomenon Adam came to call rain)

But, like all sons did, Adam became lonely.
He longed for a body he could force himself into,
another being to touch and hold and make dirty with his fingers
covered in dirt from the garden.

So God created another, he called it women,
and Adam called her Eve.
They played together (as friends did.)
But it became strange, Adam began to jack off to her breasts.
He began to follow her like a dog on a leash,
following her every word, as if she were a god.

God became angry, jealous like a bitch who couldn't
hold onto the man she loved.

He sent a serpent to lure her away
to the tree he told them both never to go towards.
(After all, that was where he hid his porno mags)
She ate of the fruit that grew from the tree.

He banished her, hoping that she would never touch
his son again. Never to feel the hair he made from dirt and blood.

But Adam, so in love with this creature called women
he followed her out of the gates of paradise
and into the world God had not perfected.

God would never touch him again.
He would never feel his son's cheeks
of bone and flesh.
He would never watch as the winds
held him in their arms,
stroking his perfect body.

She was the one who stole his son away,
His first love.

Just to have Sex...

Did you know we had sex last night?
I still remember the way he mounted me,
the way he grabbed it,
the way his tongue felt against me,
the way his toes moved against legs.

We rolled through pink sheets
and yellow pillows.
Our bodies melting into one.
He smelled of beer and cigarettes.
In the morning he told me how he
dreamed of having sex with animals.

"You know, I'm an animal."
I felt up against his legs and...

We had sex on the kitchen counter.
Coffee spilled onto the floor and dripped
to the tile.
"Do it harder..."
My voice became soft as I spoke,
his body became cool and hot
soft and hard
embracing and neglectful.
I said I loved him.

I wonder if he knew I was lying.

So in the end I did it.
I sneaked away and slashed at myself
like a butcher who carved faces out of meat.
A knife that moved across the surface
of my skin like an ice skater.

It was easier than I thought.

It felt like having sex with a pencil sharpener.
A spring had leaked from my skin,
it poured out onto the carpet
and I laid against it like a lover.

I licked it off the floor,
my blood, my being,
it was a way to pleasure myself
without touching my dick,
a way to taste my body
without taking my clothes off.
My blood, the knife against
my mouth like a lover's tongue.
Blood sinking onto my teeth
like fruit juice.
It tasted like rotten strawberries.

I think I died the next morning.

I felt the morning's rays
knock against my eyelids.
I heard someone call my name,
but I didn't understand it so I never woke up.

To sleep forever and dream of licking blood
off a carpet floor.
That was when I died,
and when I finally started to live

Sphinx, Dreaming of you

We, a friend and I, met at the cafe down the street.
The one that smelled of burnt Marijuana
and sex with a stranger.

He ordered a coffee and sunk
into his chair, his back leaving
an imprint that was probably still there.

"It was fuckin' sexy"
He told me of how it's tail swished
in the air and how it laid
on his bed every night.

"I just fucking grabbed it and..."

He held it firm,
its claws sinking into the bed sheet.

Struggling...

He pushed himself inside
like an intruder into a home
that was too small for him.

He shoved his arm into my face,
a bandage was plastered against his
skin like a tarp.

"That's what happened when it got free"
he took a sip of his coffee,
"The little shit scratched me."

He looked at his watch like a criminal
and reached into his pocket.
"Here, coffee's on me today."
He placed a crumpled Five dollar bill
on the table.

He walked off, his eyes still examining
the blood soaked bandage on his arm.
"The little shit"

His imprint was still there,
soaking up the sunlight from
the window.
I laid back and gazed towards the ceiling.
"Having sex with a cat?"

My eyes closed, like curtains
at the end of a long play,
and I whispered to the air,
"It must have been fun"

Howling At The Moon

I had sex with my father
the other night.
His hands slid down my neck.
He eyed me like I was a beer,
the only source of liquid in an ocean of sand.
His eyes sparkled like nickels
in a river.

He jammed himself into me,
harder, faster, his fingers
pulling against my hair,
his nails sinking into me.
I was his, he was mine.
My nipples pinched, hardened like water in a freezer.

Harder. Push harder.
I want to feel it...

He whispered my name like a wolf begging
for the moon to come out from behind the clouds.
The game of hide and seek was over.

I was always hiding from him,
bathing in the light of the moon.
But he found me beneath the blankets
of his bed.
"You look just like your mother" He said.
“Did you love her more?” I asked.

That night we howled at the moon,
but I don't think it was listening.

...!! you are so good ^_^ there is so much pain in your words i feel

...
Did that really happen?

My friend Billy
got the shit beaten out of him last night
for sucking another guy's dick.

He walked through the door that night,
his nose pushed deep into his face
and his eye swollen to the size
of a tennis ball
He told me they made him eat dirt.
"Dirt tastes a lot like semen."

We took a bath together.

Our legs weaved with one another
like braided hair.
Blood from his nose and eyes
spread to the surface like spilled dye.

We looked through the window,
our bodies still wet with the night's shame.

"Shouldn't we call the hospital?
Your face looks terrible."

And there, in the shaded light
he gazed towards me.

He never said I word.

I guess I had my answer.

These Are Good
I Hope That Not All Of The themes described are real

Takato wrote: God sits in Eden wandering if the Sun can play "Old Maid"

Spoiler: 

Did you know that God hates women?

God created a being form his left rib,
(A creature he called Adam)
God loved Adam, and he dreamed
of holding Adam in his palms,
and brushing back his hair.
Whenever the sun sneaked
below the horizon to play cards
with the clouds God would
sit and wank off to the thought
of his son.
(A phenomenon Adam came to call rain)

But, like all sons did, Adam became lonely.
He longed for a body he could force himself into,
another being to touch and hold and make dirty with his fingers
covered in dirt from the garden.

So God created another, he called it women,
and Adam called her Eve.
They played together (as friends did.)
But it became strange, Adam began to jack off to her breasts.
He began to follow her like a dog on a leash,
following her every word, as if she were a god.

God became angry, jealous like a bitch who couldn't
hold onto the man she loved.

He sent a serpent to lure her away
to the tree he told them both never to go towards.
(After all, that was where he hid his porno mags)
She ate of the fruit that grew from the tree.

He banished her, hoping that she would never touch
his son again. Never to feel the hair he made from dirt and blood.

But Adam, so in love with this creature called women
he followed her out of the gates of paradise
and into the world God had not perfected.

God would never touch him again.
He would never feel his son's cheeks
of bone and flesh.
He would never watch as the winds
held him in their arms,
stroking his perfect body.

She was the one who stole his son away,
His first love.