Mouillé sans libération (wet without release)

The following poem  contains very strong sexual imagery and is suited for a more adult audience.

"Mouillé sans libération" literally translated (Wet without release)

by McNorris Hakata

Enjoy☺and reflect💡

She writhes in pain, aching between her thighs,
wet like the ocean
as she imagines the motion of his manhood inside her.
Her desires are dire
Burning like a fire
Her emotions caught in a brier
yet At her, frustration pokes her finger,
Her middle finger smelling of insult,
insult on her womanhood.

The ring she wears demands she gets some sweet release from her desperation
yet this man is cruel heeding not to her expectation
Her dire desires
Breasts aching and nipples erect
Yet for her his will not erect
So her frustration grows..📀 ..eject
A Marvin Gaye disc with that familiar  song
"Wake up.. wake up" (whispering)

The sanctity of this union demands my faithfulness
the gravity of this matter demands my. . .
She gets lost in thought as she remembers
Those hot summer nights now just embers
when yet her body he worshiped!
When she laid it to rest thoroughly ravaged
His appetite for her like a brute savage
Hungry for her
Lusting for her
In love with her

He-he writhes in pain, with a deep aching in his head
Pounding like a hammer
The same pounding that fills her fantasies
He is her desire, why cant he stop with the fallacies
Her dire desire
Yet at her frustration pokes her finger
Her middle finger smelling of booze and beer
The insult on her womanhood
The fire inside her desperate for "wood"

♡Her full breasts untouched
♧His ignorance unmatched
♡Her soft satin skin yearning for his touch
♧Times when he would rather have the couch
♡Or just any touch
♧really any couch

"As he peacefully snores away drenched in liquor


by Simbarashe McNorris Hakata

For a hollow crown

Cleanse thy hands

Cleanse thy hands

Thy blood stained hands

How can it be when the stain has become skin

For surely this is the blood of thy kin

Constantly encircled by many a terror’s fin

A little wine and a little gin

To drown a memory and take back what has been

Cleanse thy soul 

Cleanse thy soul

Thy sin-filled soul

How can it be when the stain has become spirit

For surely who has looked and seen it

Dark and cold is the habitation of thy spirit

A little wine and a little spirit

To murder a conscience and make wrong what’s right

Cleanse thyself

For dark and cruel are the waters where ghosts bathe

Cleanse thyself

To escape the scorching heat of where dry bones play

Cleanse thyself

For with piercing eyes of vengeance an army of children marches

The little ones that fell by the sword of ambition

A little wine

A little gin

Yet darkness invades so long yea hide from the light

For surely this is not hidden from sight

Thy heart yielding not to contrition

Such is the road to perdition

To kill the innocent for a hollow crown

photo credit: crown-blood-psd96163

Cleanse thy heart

Cleanse thy soul

By Simbarashe McNorris Hakata