THE COMPULSIVE ILLUSION POGONOPHILOUS POEMS by Anthony Weir

 

"I would rather be condemned for what I am than accepted for what I am not.
But sex, like video, is a compulsive illusion." - Teaching Wolf

 

A RED HERRING

Urinals are strange places
where men stand like itinerant sweet-
peas against temporary trellises
and fumble.

Men are lucky:
they can stand while they piss
and play cards, or violas
- or kiss.

When I was a child
high toilet-walls
were greenly-defiled
by years of competitions:
boys
raising litre by metre.

Men are lucky:
they can stand while they piss
and angle for strange fish

like Saint Peter.

(click here for illustated earlier version from Cinema of the Blind)

"Sex is the Best Empty Experience." - Woody Allen

 

DEEP DOWN

Everybody really knows that only animal
satisfactions satisfy
the animals we are
(in air-conditioned halls,
tax-forms, names, clothes, cutlery)
- and this is why
- I’m nuzzling your balls
- while listening to Schubert
- and drinking Château
Coutet-à-Barsac.

(from Cinema of the Blind)

TRINITY-INFANTASY

Your solid, hairy body was for an hour the father
I the skinny bastard never had
(firm as a rock
my only god your cock).
Your unmanifested mind was the son
I might have fumble-foisted as a lad
upon the girl I might have loved
if girls had thought me fun.
The holy spirit of our hearts' communion
might have snuggled in our hugs
and in our waking up together
holding hands, and in our cuddles
sliding back to sleep, and as we woke again
to celebrate our muddles.

(adapted from a version in Dispatches from the War…)

 

PERFECT CIRCLE

I wish that I could lick
my prick
as beasts can,
For then (with luck)
I wouldn't want to fuck
or stick
it into anything
And I would be content to suck
myself, and pause
Complete as circle of serpent
with tail in its jaws.  

(from Cinema of the Blind)

 

Control birth

Combat normality.
We are as sperm
swimming in
the rectum of reality.

Glory be to theft and kisses
Glory be to breath
Glory be to slugs and beetles
Glory be to death.

Buried down deep or sitting above
The relation of pebble to earth
(which it was and will become)
is true love.

Mind activates awareness
Insight transcends mind
Wisdom's a puddle, decease is catharsis
We are most serious when we
wipe our arses.

(from Dispatches from the War...)

ESCAPE FROM THE MUSÉE D'ORSAY

Tired and sick at heart
I stole fifty-eight postcards and fled
the marble show-prison for innocent paintings.
They shouldn't be there
(more than half-dead)
in that vandalised railway-station
and we shouldn't be here in the world,
in cold latitudes, breeding
and stealing our heat and our food
from the poor and the beasts,
and producing more and more stuff
getting colder and colder while we turn
the heat higher and higher,
and build prisons even for paintings -
as if their hideous, torturing frames were not enough!

After dinner alone in the flat
I went to the quays at the Place Stalingrad
where men prowl and skulk
(and one or two chat)
and, under a culvert, eager and jostling
like dogs round a bitch, watch a man merely suck
another man off, without joy.

 

RELIGION

God locked in his churches
The Mother of God in glass boxes
Believers in toilets
Every beast behind walls:
Christ the desecrator
The Great Divider –
And Satan the one with the balls.

Enduring as rock
the only true god is cock.

(from Cinema of the Blind)

 

CRINOPHILY
RUE DE LA PETITE TRUANDERIE

I would like a lover
who looks like my teddybear
who will ask me to do
what I want to do
and travel with me
to the inner and the outer.

As for sex
I have no preference -
but not many women look like my
teddybear,
though I saw a splendidly
hirsute lady in Paris.

(from Dispatches from the War against the World)

 

 

PERFECT PORTABLE PRODUCT

You’re never alone
with a Willy Phone^®
Inside or out.
Ten Number Memory. Six sexy
shades from Stallion Black to
Pheromonal Pink. Five Freudian Flavours.
Deluxe veined version available
To the devout.

(from Fearful Symmetry)

 OUTLINE OF A BOOK

BEYOND ORGASM:
The Man to Man Guide
to Soft Willy Sex:
Sensual cuddles and
Non-Penetrative Fulfilment.

C O N T E N T S

Affection without False Expectation
Sensual Deprivations of Childhood
Therapeutic Holosensuality:
Fighting the stereotypes
Enjoyment without Ownership
Giving Energy rather than
Receiving Frustration
Flow versus Compulsion,
Respect versus ‘Love’
Opening up to the Spirituality
Of "Casual Sex"
Helpful Plants and Natural Allies
Champagne and Soft Ceremonies
Hug Therapy and Peacemaking Amongst Primates
Sexy Soups and Orgasmic Puddings
Awakening Nipple Awareness
Armpits and Ecstasy
Helter-Skeltering the Kundalini
Pissing and The Shaman’s Path
Threesomes, Fivesomes and
Cuddle Buddy Networks
The Magic of Extremities:
Feet, Fingers and Scalp
Avoiding Prosecution
The Sensual Underground
Spiritual Revolution

(from Fearful Symmetry)  

 

MEMO FROM THE SECRETARY
OF THE MOON

In some ancient and some recent
archaic societies a man’s
desirability was measured
not by the amount of room
he occupied on Earth
but by the quantity and variety
of other men’s sperm
that he managed to consume.

For him there was no risk
of emotional infantilism, nor
permanent detachment
from oceanic drift;
For him the gift
of ‘homosexuality’ was
nothing to be feared –

and no worries about combing
the semen out of his beard.

 

 

for Malcolm
NEVER ADVERTISED

The post of God
has been vacant for the past
umpteen million years. Only
the most driven lunatics need apply
for the job in the depth of the sky.

But I'm happy to inform you that, whatever befalls,
you have been successful in your application
for the plum but temporary post
of squeezer of my humble balls.

 

BUBBLES AND SQUEAKS
 
Love is as deeply shocking
an experience as
Standing naked in icy rain.
The taste of your trust in me
while I sip you
is remarkably like champagne.

for more Bearded Men Kissing, click on this picture

click here to visit: SATAN IN THE GROIN exhibitionist carvings on mediæval churches

"I have a recurring dream. I am lying on the ground, naked, pale, unbound. It is evening in Sangha Forest of Northern Congo-Brazaville, and I am in a clearing by a pool. Around me stands a group of men, also naked, also bearded. They have beautiful erections. They are masturbating slowly. They are also singing. From each, and from some simultaneously, seed spurts on to my body. When the last man has shot they all crouch down. I spread their mixed sperm all over my torso, especially on to my own erect cock and my balls. I rub the seed which has squirted onto my face and beard into my beard and on to my bald scalp. I then lick my hands clean, and kiss the moist tip of each man's cock, savouring the last drop of creamy sperm. Each drop tastes slightly different.