Ode To The Orgasm

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Ode To The Orgasm

Submitted: June 04, 2018

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Submitted: June 04, 2018





It starts with rubbing.  Tentatively at first.  Gently.  As if doing it for the first time.  Skin brushing lightly over skin.  Slowly.  

Then something inside starts to become hot.  It becomes frantic.  It becomes wet.  Something quiets down inside and there’s blank dark spaces bouncing around with each throe with each thrust with each lull.  


Then a scream bursts inside and it's eternal with no beginning. with no end.


And the body is full of electric blue convulsions


bucking from where the waist meets the torso


and pieces of the brain begin to die


begin to become little deaths


and then...




Waves of warmth blooming all around


and the universe shudders 


and there’s flashing colours


flash. red. flash. black.

flash. red. flash. black.


and everything shakes




until it breaks.




with only remnants of ecstasy left behind


and in a curtain of oil-slick shimmers the world settles back into view


just like coming out of a dream


and everything is hot.






Ode to the bloodrush shooting up to thine ears how they flutter in such tiny spaces to hide their lustful longing amongst their thought so concealed taboo and every dire and hatred and little stabs at the timeline of everything that it means to be to be to be here


and the song of the cosmos came thriving for how long?

 yes how long....


that wavering blue line that was oh tiny squeezed lustful noises

to full on chest heaving no breath left


and then 


like the god’s pause their every motion for just the briefest of no time


are swirled into a thread entwined upon our most ancient and longed for entropy that was the great idea of the warped vision that was

sweet dreamings and touchings oh your touch! those little grazes! the light and pure essence gleaming from thou who was nestled in the side of my mind that was the embodiment of all that was positive glowing light experiences I had had mostly with females but we have almost divine interactions all amongst our brothers and sisters and mothers that were yes that were every aspect of my perceiving the tingling unanimous harmony that is life and why do we who feel just as much as the


individual human the

I am he that stays him

and this i have been and know it to be so

this i have been and shall shut my eyes 

and cease moving of my own accord in

and become as the flesh of planet earth

the cells of its epidermis

that die

that recycle


and become also 

put into with

everything to the greatest limits of your wildest thoughts trapizing throughout the lost islands of beyond comprehensible thought


to come yes where

why are we driven to sing

by our need to manipulate every little dot of existence around

to dance in the pleasure of each sound that we feel through all our sensations

that become concentrated with the in and out tidal inhale exhale of those shining

moonlight eyes like twin sparks that penetrate in our most sacred and yet blissfully profane dance that comes with joinment


and how we sing. and how we sing.


all of us in time together 

the rhythm of the very tiny

very ordinary

the very wondrous and mundane and 


we shall no longer


can no longer fathom

for we pull each other


and all i see is you

they whisper

quiet by the morning calms gray dawnlight

just peeking over static horizons

pillow soft

the sound echoes

from somewhere behind their eyes

one of them kisses the other


and there it is

both of them reel from one another

penetration and wriggling 

almost like worms

almost like fighting

almost barbaric 

tearing into each other

leaking our liquids all over every inch

moving in the throes of what is that old word

like we’re producing it

just pumping it out

a whole fucking factory

they pray to spill


here their hearts in between the shuddering moans of climactic strain sing with the very core the essence the center


the diamond

or is soul a better word

it is the person as they are

laid bare


utterly true


they sing it so passionately and with such yearning it is a ink-black blasphemy

an injustice

that they are unable to scream it happily in the streets

while everyone out

can gaze steadily at their peers

and no hand was raised

of course everyone would speak

and sometimes laugh and dance

sometimes make music 

the focused kind on fancy wooden instruments

for it is summer and their happiness soaks the ages and eons from the time of

electric guitar music

orchestral tunes

the first sound of the cosmos

spilling into a peaking sun-yellow shining longing

misting down as that long forgotton

but still longed for

childhood daze

but we try to peer through the lens

its dirtied up and hard to see

so the best thing

is here

in these streets of our heart’s desire

outlined now in this ode

for the lands floating upon this blue pearl’s surface


such a shame

especially while the two are screaming

its like

its like

a damn plastic wall

separating the one thing you can only feel

dare we say it



you know

more so


we re






but that is the overall frustration and sometimes overwhelming disappointment in life at times is it not?  events surrounding one are in beyond worse than imagined circumstances and in these naive first felt hard emotions a young person as i write i shall admit i am not twenty three yet only a few years ago death seemed a plausible solution


things have changed greatly in a few years


we write this to fully illustrate our overall hopes and longings

no matter our negative and tragive witnessings in this life 

or blatant disregard like stone eyes

ignoring death and rot and rape

and being inhuman

as in we call each other sub or non human


here we cling

to a fragile sphere whirling through space

with a galaxing full of star systems

too many to imagine

number of planets?

it would take forever to figure out

all this is circling around a supermassive black hole


all this being attracted to the Great Attractor

which is unknown at this time period


dragging every observable galaxz\y at speeds that are



only understood through written symbols

and all this is made of particles as are we

that become waves and interact in


just look around


and every pieace

by god its insane

its insane and gorgeous











and too many possibilities


we cannot understand in the box of what will forever be



but here




i shall write it


for i have prolonged it


for the heart still keeps in clandestine misery






lean closer




do you hear it?


what it longs to spread?


of course




a passed on stream

that we see


as a blossom with the creation of us


i speak in third person for it is easier for me to think


in these terms when writing of matters larger than myself


that i am so intrinsicly entwined in


oh how curious we can be


oh how we can go about lives


is it a trick that we lose our spark for the chaotic puzzle


the jigsaw


where each of us somehow connects


but even deeper


hidden pipes




full of thoughts and songs


moving in swirls and spirals and songs and feelings and touch


and finally after all this motion and tumultuous building

the welling of thoughts from a thought to be hidden 


unknown dimension connected by those dancing intangible filaments


or where they colourful geometric towers peaking as moutains to the very tip of heaving sensation into everyting i miss 

that is the embodiment of all

of ALL desire

for there to be only

how did that one really beautiful one say it


ah yes

the girl named for an herb that is perfect in any song

how innocent she was

how she said the words of everything that we crave


no matter what a momentary burst of annoyance can cause


in an immature soul that still struggles to move forward and become


the compress of all its potentials


the greatest


most delicate and strong


and humorous but magnificently realized in its confidence the is as no fear


but that anger felt in its extremes are


you fucker


i hope everything is shit for you


for the one thing you caused me


oh how we loathe it!


for she put it best


I wish everything was sunshine and rainbows.


she may have said more

maybe of there not being any bad things


which would be fitting

would be nice


and that anger we tell ourselves

is not us


or perhaps just a part


we can grow to not loathe

not quite embrace but one would be hesitant to say it is

but we can accept


and feel it yes


but learn it


and react the way we consciously choose

and find proper diverts 


to well you know


get rid of the bad vibes


all that hate


aint at all great


a long journey or was it short?


well there we are now.


two beings made of...



science claims perhaps dust from an everlasting superparticle


but who knows


there are mysteries alll around


but it is good is it not


that at least here


in this time we pour our inner mutterings


our typing which is as chattering crabs on a black chesspiece


like ink splattered scribblings i used to make on


something reflected in a neon beam reminiscent screen


and that is the beauty of being just me


as you read this perhaps it also applies to you


and i use the hopes we that


we are not islands of sensationalization

our even more worisome


a product of a dustmote nothing cosmic fart debris


but i am i


and i can be joyous


pushing and pulling

finding the secret moving of the things all around i call words as we touch

and get some wonderful piercing and muffled feelings

from every picture behind my eyes and buried as molten nervous 


want for not i but yes in the sense of just me


just you


whoever reads this



i write this as bleach bone bare in the pillowy sand dunes of a twilight desert


to feel


with each other


pour everything we have 


to know each other




reach an intimacy like the fruit of Eve’s forbidden tree


only a few here and there as if there were not enough made for each lifetime


and each person is left wondering


was there more?


but who knows


everyone is different 


and that is probably the way it is supposed to be


its more fun that way right?


when its hard to breathing


and this stranger is somehow an extension as much you one to them


as one you move


and our beings clench together


we leave a little piece of that in us


that can forget everything


and be a pure



somehow still and


lets be honest

never forgotton


no matter what else happens


the connections were made


and i have seen into the spaces

the tiny ones

and of course your darkly bright gleaming eyes


as you have into mine


and thus we are a synapse of sensation

knowing and leaving a trace of this act


and from our eyes


it makes us just who we are


you and i


in the moment

at last ?

for the first time?

always there just unnoticed?


and we were a verse together

the whole songs been recording for too long for anyone to remember


and no ones stopped it

so we havent listened to much of it except with other devices


so its nice though

and it soothes every inch of us


and i can say this safely



is it longing that pushes the key.

you are there

maybe not a one

maybe no anyone


it is first inner

the perhaps both?


and it is finding your function is it not?


to get lost in the treachorous and beatiful archives of an existence so cruel as not to show you but in equally clueless humanoids to point you in the right direction


which is why i conclude

as this is a personal entry


i have been struggling for almost as long as i can remember


and now i am torn


i wish to be productive and well


the thing is


it has a lot of influence from the first stages of my development


but i am the creator and


even solo


there is passion and joy


and never really far a partner


to do 


incredibly exciting

little fake fights that were entirely sexual


there are these things and the limits of being human are as an advantage


of being able to explore a world 

an opportunity to feel and have adventures


so the ode of spurts of thought searching from a frantic chest pumping blood with short meth breath god i have work too soon


cant sleep

want to


it is our ode


we must live everyday as each day

to be felt in its own way

for experience dragged from hindsight to teach us

how to have a better tomorrow


and as the sun and moon rise and fall

our movements become smoother


i worry


will it be less intense?


i have heard there are ways to make it more


if so it is a good life


let a winter’s crystal clear single note tweaking a sleepy white melody 

come in its frosty attitude of


nothing is out of reach


and we become frigid


we become only drying hope


it is strange 


i find


these days i more or less fluctuate


and the affair with myself is an extremes of negative to oh such a peaceful joyous feeling


but with time and fantastic assistance i am much grateful of i feel just


like i am able to overcome


no not good all the time


maybe thats impossible


everytones got emotions.


but we have sorted it out now.  and life becomes easier to handle iin stride


and the passion that comes with music 


and simply pleasures


i wish there were no pains


the pleasures come and are also


what is the color that is the great writhing coitus of life with itself


as a slender smooth cell eventually growing and changing and splitting to become multitude 


like a god touching itself


our universe the chronic masturbator


living through itself and making


unaware meat puppets

feeling itself through you and me


but it is utterly human to be unknown of the realities of a spontaneous percepetion


you trick of the light

you trick of the light


foolish child they murmer

foolish child the murmer


it is just


there are no rewards


and he was saddened but he lived


and he found passion

found a love

found a livelihood

and was at peace


so heed his actions


the scraping nags of an inner complainer


the paranoid little bug that crawls in your ear on its way to your brain.  tell it it has to know  its time is done


for he trudged on


and will always do so


even in the mud up to his knees during a storm


what else could he do?


and it was the warmnth of the


difficult to remember...


her skin...


she was beautiful.,..




but we shall not sink


trudge and be close to breaking point


but we shall keep climbing any mountain no matter how steep


and it was the ultimate they were looking for


love just a part


the ultimate


music just a part


the ultimate


happiness just a part


the ultimate of peace.

© Copyright 2019 Imit Zeha. All rights reserved.

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