Mimi and Mona Poetry: Conquering A Goddess

©Conquering A Goddess

Copyright ©Mimi Wolske 2012

All Rights Reserved

Mimi Wolske – Mona Arizona™

Long, inquisitive fingers steal my breath

As they wander ever stirring desire

In their quest for points of pleasure

That will cause my heart to quicken.

Long, silky tips touching, caressing,

Gently like a whisper over my skin

Leaving more than a sensation when

I feel each digit’s deliberate given movement.

Are you having the vision in your mind, Freja,

My body and the places where desire builds?

Your warm breath on my back when you

Circle my form to claim and brand me

As lost to your goddess wiles of passion.

But, I forever stand as the penetrator who

Shall mark you as conquered and owned

Only first letting you fill your cup of pleasure.

A palm drags across my cheeks as

You circle with approving sighs,

Drawing closer when we meet at last

Face to face, your body no longer flowing

But wrapped intimately…accepting the right to receive,

Then, a lingering kiss given from your fingertips

To the sword that I swear will be sheathed and

Unsheathed until you plead for your release.

Aromas fresh, clean, gentle to my nose

Wreathe us as you join, our bodies intertwined,

Caressing with whispered, intimate promises

That mix with the soft moans and the animal growls,

The gasps of excited carnality in a candle-lit room,

The incense of our bodies that dance in that candle light,

One shadow cast as two align becoming one

Two pieces of the whole reconnecting at long last

The poem I created above was done for "Today's Poetry Challenge" (this poem published 3/30/12):

find the nearest book (of any kind). 

Turn to page 8. 

Use the first ten full words on the page in a poem. 

You may use them in any order, anywhere in the poem.

“But having given him the right to receive the pension, I had to wait till the debt was paid off and that is only just done, so that I’ve been unable to send you anything all this time”

This quote is from the top of page 8 of my copy of “Crime and Punishment” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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Mimi and Mona Poetry - Erotic: As If It Were A Prayer

©As If It Were A Prayer

Mona Arizona

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™

All Rights Reserved

You took me to the brink,

to that point where

my eyes rolled back in my head,

I couldn't even remember my name,

my toes curled as if in a spasm,

waves of hot flashes wouldn't stop,

my calves clenched,

my back arched,

I writhed under you

panting and sweating without surcease

because you kept me there,

refused to send me over the wall

into the abyss of ecstasy ...

stop! don't stop! please...stop!

When you finally released me,

the earth turned on its axis;

I shivered and trembled and

cried out your name over and over

as if it were a prayer.

(art by Malcolm T. Liepke)

Mimi-Mona Erotic Poetry: Lovers in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains

©Lovers in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains

Mona Arizona

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™

September, 2014

All Rights Reserved

Cool breezes sneak in through

an open window of our

hotel room in Taos. Somewhere

between your car and the

bedspread, we leave a trail of

discarded clothes and begin nipping

bites on each other's bare skin,

playing at the start —serious

love bites by the time you

draw me onto the king-sized sheets.

Whispering secrets into each other's skin,

telling each other how long it has been,

calling each other pet names,

promising shared fantasies will be fulfilled,

we're voluble lovers starved for

everything the other willingly gives.

You tempt me like a boxer

teased in the ring by the bell —

just one more round...please.

I beg. Our nakedness makes our

sighs and moans sound like music...

we dance, my hands tied

above my head, your fingers

knotted around my hair at the

height of the dance, at the

crescendo of the music, and

you demand me to answer;

Who's your bone daddy, my sex slave?

Muted cries from the ghosts of

past passion join our chorus and

fill the rented room with

the Song of Lovers' Lust

joined by the whisper from the

breezes that sneak in through the

open window of our room

in this artist colony.

You say you like the way

I look, curly hair plastered

to my face, long legs naked

and entwined with yours,

graceful arms with feminine

hands and mobile fingers that

play with the hair on your chest.

Suddenly, we're apart. You say

stay there —don't move. I say

I have to go to the bathroom.

I don't own slippers; I pull

my cowgirl boots on and walk

naked in them to the door.

The breeze from the open window

of our room-for-one-night

in the tributary valley off the Rio Grande

furls my nipples. You chuckle.

I recount each moment of those

earlier hours and the reckless

part of me, that dangerous

voice inside of me, suddenly begs for you.

You knew? You press me against the

door before I can leave that confining

space and you kiss me the way

I was dying to be kissed again,

stretching out the moments

before inevitability sets in

with reality close on its heels.

Any right to refusal was

surrendered years ago when

we gorged ourselves on

desire and protected our emotions

from years of our teeth being cut

on neglect. You whisper my name;

suddenly my sea legs give way

to the weight of love. The way

you kiss my neck, my waist,

my hip bones, my inner thighs...

it is war and it's only

going to end with my

petites morts —thus with a

kiss I die here where

the breeze from the window

blows the curtains and I hear

them dance in our room

where we sever ties with daydreams,

in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

Your mouth makes my body dance...

makes me scream...makes you

cover my mouth with your own.

I scream into it and feel

your lips curve up.

In the middle of this heat wave,

you pull me back to bed. I search

for words that will describe how

your shoulders curve when

you pull me to you, against

the solidity of your strong chest,

but I'm lost in the security of your arms.