The grist of daily awakening, encumbered by the resolve to eliminate the angst of being within this captive vessel of genetic codes making, uncontrolled control of free will choosing, blind to ultimate consequence of dimensional implication, experiencing reality of experience realized, seeking what is not yet known to be sought, suffering what is not known of suffering, limited by the limitless choice for choosing, forgetting what is yet to be forgotten, ultimately dying from the death of it all.
Life can impose a path, not for choosing;
For sake of answers that remain looming;
Leading to a destiny worthy of reality’s loosing;
Not a choice everyone is capable consuming.
Mysteries are mysteries designed for deceiving;
Masters of the message promulgate their believing;
Truth to answers’ lying worthy of conceding;
Security to reason demanding ongoing breeding.
Confusion, misinformation, fact element destroyed;
You Tube invented to discredit by way to joy;
The reality joke is the brain is now their little toy;
Convolution, the mechanism most assuredly employed.
Performing naked, fully exposed;
Before fledgling artists awaiting the next pose;
Possibly curious to how, with no clothes,
Save for the socks that cover ugly toes,
How is it, this profession, one chose.
Frankly speaking, being naked, a must;
Truth to this doing amounts to no fuss;
Simply put, it is a matter of trust
That, as aspiring young artists, void of lust,
Focus is the image to paper, with charcoal dust.
Ultimately, left to the life-model to diffuse,
To be the centre, the inspirational muse,
Ideally wanting to vary provocative views;
Challenges what form of pose to peruse;
That stimulate creativeness; beauty to infuse.
In the end, it is a matter of mutual respect:
The artist to give, the life model to get;
For combined their energies are there to beget
Truth; beauty of the human form is not a threat;
A reality Artists provide the world, to never forget.
You are invited to preview my latest addition of self-published books titled: NAYKD POETry; a provocative collection of poems and prose reflective of the sexual renascence presently being enjoyed especially within the Lesbian and Gay communities around the world. Though graphic by its nature, sexual expression of this form is not meant to be exploitive but rather, robustly exhilarating for the libido and fertile to the imagination, dwelling on the lustfully erotic.
Crimson red dressed, I ply the fading light
In service of a trade that gives some fright;
Made to give purchase of wanton pleasure;
To quell sexual tastes only but few, do treasure.
Johns-of-the night, deviance inclined,
Who seek and know well how to find;
To pay for what cannot be easily bought:
To be treated badly; what is most sought.
Unrepentant, I give to what is desired;
Their brutal demands, why I’m hired;
Whips, chains, shackles all part, of course;
Without mercy, inflicted, with pleasure given force.
Their screams, shouts and, whimpers plead
Not to stop their punishment, even to bleed;
Unrelenting, feelings of harshness deemed cruel;
Yields for me emotions; a struggle’s duel.
Simply put: mine is to service, to abide;
Demanding truth to civility, to conveniently hide;
For though this profession, by some to disdain;
Sought purely for fortune, not the glib of fame.
All society’s demographic find it all the rage,
Internet channels to express love and, or enrage;
A wireless medium for most to digitally engage,
Even religious faiths have now found its electronic stage.
Only two decades since its incipient birth,
Already in the of billions of dollars its worth;
From e-commerce to wood-fires in virtual hearths
But, for some practitioners; a growing, addictive curse.
The abundance of pornography, some would make claim,
Is the root to the medium’s spontaneous, rapid rise to fame;
Arguably, but then, just the same,
The Internet is forever and, forever it will remain.
Technological advancement conjoined with social networks,
Text messaging and, video connectedness the availing quirk;
That’s eroded boundaries between personal time and work;
365, 24-7 communication: for some a detriment, others a perk.
Regardless of how one views this 21st Century technological craze,
Its tentacle global reach makes definite it is not a passing phase;
But what has yet to be determined are its full implications as societies age,
Will it prove a healthy benefit or, a plague that has just begun to contage?
Since December 2011 by this blog, I’ve purged my heart, mind and soul; laying Naykd my thoughts to all, to know but, with time of near four years passage, what most did not grow, is awareness to a wisdom, my words, with hope, would sow. Yet, undaunted I pursue this work, not for the charm of accolade or renown but, for the mere chance of survival from that which ails this world; I feel so emotionally, so profound. It is my only vehicle to solution short of violent revolution upon the corruptness metastasizing throughout this Human institution but to remain discouraged, by its prolific infusion. `Words can be mightier than the sword’ but, for that truth to be known, the right words need be shown, for the courage of strength, to be sown.
The world feeling stress at the seams;
Truer than life are its worst of dreams;
Hesitant are most to give it a voice;
But there comes a moment, there is no choice.
Every avenue, every domain,
Every institution, established name;
Feeling the pressure, fracturing apart;
Traditions failing those worn closest, to a civil heart.
What remedy, what resolve
Need manifest to this malaise, solve;
Far too great is their weight of dismay,
Leaving loss of hope, to see light of day.
Prophecy of scripture, resigned to by some,
Rendering providence to returning mythical Son;
But reality holds to a much stronger truth:
Solutions reside in the hearts of everyone and, YOU!
A simple contemporary piece combining the movement of color, form and, sound to inspire contemplation of that which shapes our three-dimensional world complimented by the senses that allow us to consume its beauty…..
The full cold depth of death’s slate-marker pierces the seething heat of raging, blood-filled aroused cock wantonly seeking to be sucked and suckled by the demised, lewd waiting mouth to this earthly grave’s benefactor; to yield, to be swallowed and consumed into vacant deceased gullet; the sweet white flow of life-giving nectar held in the sanctity of human man’s testes; the mythically promised gift of Creation rebirth and renewal.
naykdpoet 