Shelter

Photograph by Autumn Sinnichsen

Would you care for me?
I won't take up much room,
and would be happy
to sleep at your feet,
or snuggle with you in your big chair.

Would you give me
a little bit of your time?
A pat on the head, or
scratch my ears.
Even a belly rub
would be just fine.

Do you hear
my cry and heartbeat?
Take heed of
who I am:
I'm loyal and loving
and offer you my life.

Would you care for me?
I'll be here
just a few more days...
unless you would care for me
and take me home
to be your ever loving pet.

Don't leave without me, please...

Words by Jackie Jinks.

This poem is actually about a pet like a cat or a dog. To make people aware that if you need a pet that you first search at the Animal Shelters. I cannot agree more. I like this poem very much and it also has the right words for a 'human pet' aka a submissive to her Master. I hope that Jackie Jinks don't mind. If so i will delete the poem at this blog.

Handed down to my senses

Photograph Don't call us, we'll call you by David Samson

As you forced me to the ground, tied me up to this branch, grabbed me by my hair and pulled my head backwards, you allowed me merely to feel. Not merely but generously you handed me down to my senses. Last sunbeams warmed my skin, birds singing their last song, buzzing bees searching for honey, the smell of fire made me restless, the sweet smell of grass that tickled, the branch that scratched my tighs. But most of all the strength of your hands, your clothing upon my naked skin, your breath in my hair, your whispers in my ear, your weight upon my body. You took me to our secret garden where the fire heaten our fantasies, where the cruel sun burned my tormented skin and lighted up your eyes. Where your knife caressed my inviting skin, leaving filmy cuts, feeding the thirsty earth. Where even more darker dreams earthen, silently waiting to revive.

Geluiden van het bos * Sounds of the forest

Eenzaam en alleen ligt zij daar al uren op een bed van dennennaalden ontdaan van haar kleding gebonden aan polsen enkels gespreid als aan een rad. Alleen en eenzaam zicht op de wolken die achter de boomtoppen zeilen verlicht door de heldere maan de mond gesnoerd de oren gespitst. Geen Meester, geen genade eenzaam en alleen met haar angsten en verdriet pijn in rug en benen in armen, billen en nek koud van buiten angstig van binnen. Krakende takken in de verte iets dat valt, dichtbij Meester bent u daar? smeekt zij van binnen haar stem gesmoord door leer de eerste tranen wellen op. Ze herkent ze nu de geluiden in het bos ze zijn van Hem Hij is haar niet vergeten Zijn rustige passen komen naar haar toe de aanvankelijke kou bestaat niet meer. Warmte overspoeld haar geluk en vrede tegelijk als hij Zijn gezicht weer toont omringd door magisch maanlicht Hij lacht, zij lacht van achter haar gag plots huilt ze ook, van louter vreugde. Daar ligt zij, nog steeds op een bed van dennennaalden ontdaan van al haar kleding gebonden aan polsen en enkels overgeleverd aan Zijn grillen bereid alles opnieuw te doorstaan.

Lonely and deserted she lies there for hours on a bed of fir needles disposed of her clothes tied wrists ankles spreaded. Alone and isolated a view on the clouds that sailed behind the trees enlightened by the clear moon her mouth stopped pricked up ears. No Master, No mercy lonely and deserted with her fears and sorrow Aching back and legs arms, bottom, neck a cold body a frightened soul. Crackling branches in the distance something falling, nearby Master, is that You? she's begging inside her voice smothered by leather the first tears raising. Now she recognizes it the sounds of the forest they're His He hasn't forgotten her His quiet footsteps approaching her the initial cold doesn't excist anymore. Warmth overwhelming her happiness and peace together as she sees His face again surrounded by magical moonlight He smiles, she smiles behind her gag suddenly she also cries of pure joy. There she ever lies on this bed of fir needles disposed of all her clothes tied wrists and ankles at the mercy of all His whims prepared to endure it all again.

Picture by moonheart * Words by Master Alexander

Melted wings

Photograph by David Samson * Dog Day Afternoon

Melted wings

I flew too close to the sun's reaching, beckoning rays
I flew too close to the sun's bright, hopeful eyes
now I am choking in the sun's pool of heavy sighs.

Poem by Francesca Martin

i'm dancing barefoot

Afternoon song

Photograph: Russian by Mooreno

Though your wicked eyebrows call

Your nature into question

(Unangelic's their suggestion,

Witch whose eyes enthrall)

I adore you still

O foolish terrible emotion

Kneeling in devotion

As a priest to his idol will.

Your undone braids conceal

Desert, forest scents,

In your exotic countenance

Lie secrets unrevealed.

Over your flesh perfume drifts

Like incense 'round a censor,

Tantalizing dispenser

Of evening's ardent gifts.

No Philtres could compete

With your potent idleness:

You've mastered the caress

That raises dead me to their feet.

Your hips themselves are romanced

By your back and by your breasts:

By your languid dalliance.

Now and then, your appetite's

Uncontrolled, unassuaged:

Mysteriously enraged,

You kiss me and you bite.

Dark one, I am torn

By your savage ways,

Then, soft as the moon, your gaze

Sees my tortured heart reborn.

Beneath your satin shoe,

Beneath your charming silken foot.

My greatest joy I put

My genius and destiny, too.

You bring my spirit back,

Bringer of the light.

Exploding color in the night

Of my Siberia so black.

Charles Baudelaire

Oh how i dó love the poems of Baudelaire. So much! In it's original language it's so hunting. Beautiful dark, hypnotic words....... More translated Baudelaire poems you can find here.

Beautiful day

Today, was a beautiful winterday. Cold, but the sun was shining, promising that warmer days will come very soon. Do you think this whipped girl felt the cold on her glowing skin?

Such a rainy day

But i could already smell spring in the air last week.....

Winterchains

Lege velden

gure wind

kale bomen

de winter begint.

Koud als water

brandt de lucht

die langs mijn keel

naar binnen vlucht.

Om zich even later

door 'stoom' omgeven

net zo snel weer

naar buiten te begeven.

Ik sta daar alleen

slechts van mezelf bewust

terwijl de sneeuw

mijn voeten kust.

Helemaal geen kleren aan

mijn lijf naakt als de natuur

door Meester vervormd

in een gebogen postuur.

Armen naast elkaar

gebogen hoofd

benen gespreid

door de kou verdoofd.

Geketend aan een boom

langs de rand van het lege veld

die door straffe winden

ook al vele malen is gekweld.

Hij en ik

boom en mens

hij kan niet anders

maar van mij...

van mij is het een wens.

Gedicht van Meester Alexander.

I was so free to translate the poem from Master Alexander for the ones who doesn't understand the dutch language:

Empty fields, a bleak wind, barren trees, the winter begins.
Cold as ice burns the fresh air that flees inside along my throat.
Then, as quickly as i inhaled, it leaves my lips surrounded by steam.
I'm standing here alone, only conscious of myself

while the snow kiss my feet.
No clothes at all. My naked body as nature itself,

transformed by Master in an arched shape.
Parted arms, bowed head, spreaded legs, dazed by cold.
Chained to a tree alongside the edge of an empty field,

that also has been tortured many times by severe storms.
He and i; tree and human being.

For the tree no other ways but for me.......
for me this is a desire.

Face towards the setting sun and leaves are falling

Such a beautiful dress; all dirty......

Little pig awaiting nervously the big bad wolf.

I made this picture for the one close to my heart; the lovely slut on display. Inspired by her unsettling story.

Oooooooooh teddy!

Girl; beware of the bears in the woods.......

Gilles Berquet

I love the photographs of Gilles Berquet a lot. Therefore three beautiful photographs in this garden to enjoy.

Hazelnut

Dropped ° Steelfinger

Pet needs to go out