Welcome To "A Tu Placer" - At Your Pleasure

On the theory that life is so short that we must eat of the ripe fruit of the tree and garden, I'll be posting my own "literary erotica" here and yours, at your pleasure. my new work will be posted on my pages and linked back to La Parola Vivace. Please submit work to me jenneandrews2010@gmail.com-- and help me spread the word!

Monday, June 6, 2011

New Poem Toward the Rapture of Women, Fulfillment of the Both

Eve Rises Up

I come wet, singing with the sin of it
to tell you
That more than you have imagined
I have a Cock of my own

Between my legs
Under its pretty prepuce
A delicate white falcon under its hood

A nub of love that fills with blood
With petals running beneath the skin
A sensate arbor for the wines of desire

A cock of my own with its sensate head
A bird with long red wings
Between my legs

So that in rewriting the writ
For the sake of the Clit
I spread you out

Like a corpse taken down
From the Cross

I oil your torso
I slide over your length
With my strong little bird

I rise over your mouth
I nudge against your lip
I am far away from the snake

Between your legs that beats
With blood--

The one-eyed watchman in the watch tower
The python among the apples.

 I ride your mouth
With the little goddess in the boat

And when I've pleased 
my little briny dove
And tears bead from my flesh

And I know the petite morte
Is at the base of my spine

Eyes to eyes,
Mouth to mouth--
I let you nudge into me

I let you in inch
By inch

We move at my direction
I say barely move in me
And that is what I mean

You know nothing
You never knew anything
I am your Maestra

You are my schoolboy
I am your Priestess
You are my Penitent

And when I crest and burn
And pull you through me

And you feel my trembling
And my fever sets you on fire

Manchild in the Promised Land
We together in the Kingdom of Fuck

A thousand angels dancing
On the Clit’s soft head

Your fingers coaxing
The fevered dove’s head
Then, I’ll let you in
Boiling over
To the root
The love-sword in the hilt

You little boy Adam,
With your Weeping King Cock
In the wet spent sea-flower of my Love.


copyright Jenne' Andrews 2011


  1. thanks-- this is the problem with sleep deprivation-- you spill your guts in your poems and put them online. Many strokes. Thanks for reading me. xxxj

  2. jen - i have to say i just read this aloud and it is mighty powerful. so pleased to read you.


  3. Er hm...this is certainly sensual!

  4. Thanks Andy and Erin-- if it's powerful and sensual, I'm glad-- in part it was a reaction to a cocksman's poetry-- and I thought, oh, hell. I'll just write this.... stay tuned. xxxj


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