Hey there. I hope this post finds you well. I want to be upbeat and positive, but to be honest I’m scared as heck. Every day I read stuff about people refusing to take this pandemic seriously, or not understanding the term “exponential growth.” When something is growing exponentially, it has the potential of reaching enormous amounts in a very short time, even if it seems to start out very slowly.
If I asked you to give a penny the first day, 2 cents the second day, 4 cents the third day, etc., for a month — in other words doubling the amount you gave me each day — do you realize you’d be paying me over $10 million on the 31st?? It’s crazy! So please, please, PLEASE do take this seriously. If not for yourself, then for all the people who are even more at risk and would probably be the very ones “sacrificed” if we have to triage health care because we don’t have enough supplies and beds for everyone.
I’m staying indoors because I am in a couple of “higher risk” groups. But if other people are running around and passing it on (without knowing it), or contaminating the areas I MUST go (like stores to buy food), I will not be pleased. *sigh* Okay, enough growling — I promised you a poem, didn’t I? 🙂
I was surprised to read a poem about spanking which was both hot and moving, and avoided cliches. I was even more surprised to find it female-focused when written by a man. But if you can’t put aside assumptions and embrace diversity in a pandemic, then when the hell else can you do it! 😀
Woodsy said: “…this was just me turning the kind of poetic storytelling stuff I sometimes do to… like I say, kind of a cosmic spank theme (I figured what the hell, throw the universe in), after a sort of half dream one sleepless night… and I thought a poem might be a novelty….”
I thought it was brilliant. And if you want to check out more of his work (albeit not spanking related), I will post a link to his blog at the end. So without further ado, here it is:
A spanked and starlit kind of girl
I’ve fallen beyond my universe…
into a sore and glowing place,
where all the injustice
of galactic collapse,
all the guilt
of withered moons,
all those mean,
and all indifferent trails of dust
are paddled raw
and swept aside
swift and overwhelming sting
of your comet palm,
swinging out of orbit
like my own personal apocalypse
across my lunar surface.
I’m a space girl,
in a blue floating dance
across the simple,
loving tribute of your lap.
Caught out in mischief
and marched across the cosmos
I kick and I howl across your knee,
free at last
I am a spanked
and reborn thing,
hungry for the humiliation of your smacks,
of a defeated bottom,
glowing in its own starlight.
aching for more,
stung by the pause
and desperate for a spanking
that’ll make the whole galaxy spin backwards.
pink and tender
in the eye of my own perfect storm,
and your hand lands
like space dust woven out of mist…
stroking and gentle,
a wave of fingertips, rolling out to sea…
so barely stated,
it leaves hardly a ripple on the ocean glass
of my burning,
desperate rear –
I arch my back beneath your grip
and I stretch and I struggle
and I yelp and I yowl,
like a dam bursting…
straight into your embrace.
You smile at my ecstatic,
and the spanking begins again in earnest.
Suddenly, I am rediscovered…
even here, in the universe of the dispossessed.
OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!
I am home…
and now the stars are singing my song.