Enter Your Fantasy…A Dream, by Ra.

The following was dreamt and penned by the fantastical: Ra


Wælcyrie Skies

The halter spins with charms and silk that braids in a fiery color wraps.
Around my ankles to basin shapes.
I smell horse leather, strapping around my wrists with painted fingernails.
Caressing my skin to open wide like a skillful Seiðr with an unholy sex magic to endure.
My Swan feathers is engaging with you.
As gentle as rose petals and Raven feathers to your Godly grandeur.
Wælcyrie Skies will be the source when we fly.
The chariot that lifts me.
Is strong as a horse back that takes strides from side to side.
Your strong presence surrounds me with a hung pipe to devour me from the side.
I am an untamed mortal that invokes the words of a Wet Licked Taint.
Untainted love is the body Spæ that I yearn to yearn for you to blow my V-spot in turn.
Yes I understand your spells.
All lights dims when you walk in with your mighty hammer.
Your secret power of pounding flesh is lightening.
Unholy fantasies in Wælcyrie skies when we fly to Valhalla.
A token of my glisten flesh.
To you without restriction as you solicited to capture my milky skin in rapture.
The touch of horse leather in nines.
I like a mighty Kjósa that chooses my chest to be slain with licks of your wet lips.
A bite of a talented Völva is not satisfied yet.
But he who yearns more for my honey against my lower lips has great hunger.
It is all so magical when we lock lips to pass a key of tongues to lips to lips.
A Seiðr with Raven hair has Godly arms to lusts for.
Grabs hold and ride the endowed like a beautiful horse.
A Spækona is into the air.
The sound of ragging chains and scented leather are possessing my moans with groans with sticks and stones.
Untamed beast is unstrapping himself as the keeper of my keys.
Lock me away and turn the other cheek he speaks.
Feast your eyes and lets the beast turn loose.
Swans and Ravens will fly to sounds of Moans and Groans.
Ascension to the Wælcyrie Skies.
Every part of our mortal flesh will ache from legs, basin, chest and mind.
Your sex magic will set me free.
Loosen yourself Beast and hunt for my White Deer please.
Ring Ring I hear and call me back my dear.
Völuspá is chained to a swing oh dear.
Unstraps all of your chains and take my aches and pains without fear.
He who carries the magic staff, has the keys to chain my soul with a crack of a whip to endear in one snap.


The Lotus.

The Lotus.

Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation

can that which is indestructible be found in us.

(Pema Chodron)

“Sometimes the one who is running from the Life/Death/Life nature insists on thinking of love as a boon only. Yet love in its fullest form is a series of deaths and rebirths. We let go of one phase, one aspect of love, and enter another. Passion dies and is brought back. Pain is chased away and surfaces another time. To love means to embrace and at the same time to withstand many endings, and many many beginnings- all in the same relationship.”

(Clarissa Pinkola Estes)

The older I get, the more readily I believe in a few truisms:

  1. Life is not easy, happy, or fun…most of the time.
  2. Accept #1 and you will find happiness in moments, that feel like lifetimes.
  3. To love is to die a million deaths and to be reborn..between every beat of your heart.
  4. Never allow fear to dictate your desires.

It’s all about…skulls and pink bows.

xxx dr.c.

I am so Wet…I Blame it on the Rain!

9weeks_1698185aThe Rain Scene in 9 1/2 weeks is…one of the hottest scenes ever filmed.

(click link below to view scene)

9 1/2 weeks sex scene in rain by poisonhart


“Love like rain, can nourish from above, drenching couples with a soaking joy. But sometimes under the angry heat of life, love dries on the surface and must nourish from below, tending to its roots keeping itself alive.” -Paul Coelho


“I love you because no two snowflakes are alike, and it is possible, if you stand tippy-toe, to walk between the raindrops.” – Nikki Giovanni


“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.” – Roger Miller


“The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature for the tangled passions of humans.” – Sherwood Smith


“If people were rain i was a drizzle and she was a hurricane.” – John Green


“I had gotten so used to the taste of rain that I forgot what the sun tasted like. Bittersweet.” – Anne Patrick

There is just something about the rain…about being wet in general…it’s like slippery sweet sex…(and yes those last two images are me) xxx c.

We Who Seek to Marry Heaven and Hell

The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.

The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.

The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.

The nakedness of woman is the work of God.

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, William Blake (1793).

As of late, my play-life has taken more of a central role in my life. The pendulum has swung from a research oriented professional focus to more visceral explorations…again. Therefore today, on William Blake’s birthday, it seems fitting for us (ALL of us) to begin to explore that shift a bit further.

Blake is arguably the most important, influential, and provocative poet/visual artist/mystic of the Romantic Age. His work (for me) expresses the duality of human thought and experience through what was the language of the time: religion, politics, and philosophy.

His work sought to explore and breakdown the barriers between such dialectics as:

heaven and hell,

good and evil,

humanity and divinity.

I feel that Blake’s art reflects the work that so many of us continue in our daily lives, all of us who walk the lines between divergent yet inextricably linked concepts. We too explore the junctions and fissures that construct and inspire our life choices…sometimes with the success of insight, other times with great consequence and sacrifice. Still, our exploration continues…like Blake…our understanding is merely the beginning…and expression is the process.

Cheers to those of us who are brave enough to walk the lines….with great curiosity and faith.

(and yes, “explorations” will continue in the following blog entry…this was not a cop-out…ha.)



(photo credit to: MLMLME.com for TheVanillaParty)

A Poem: Reliving (You)

Why is it that I relish the time that I am alone

to savor our intimacy,

let it run through my imagination,

allow it to tickle my deepest senses?

Releasing my mind,

I slip into that secret space between

consciousness and un-…

where I can feel your hand sliding

along the curve of my thigh,

taste you neck warming

to my open lips.

These memories enter me as you do,


I piece the experience together  like an almost forgotten sensation…

the first time you smelled a rose

and brushed its velvety petals

to your lips,

feeling its caress.

I let my tongue wrap slowly

around my finger,

and feel your tongue.

These sensations fill my fantasies.

The raw energy.

The harsh grip of your hands along my pelvis.

As we begin,

the only barrier is my body’s resistance,

which quickly turns to acceptance.

Images become fluid scenes

that seem to slide

into one moving feeling.

Now, your thrust has a sharp clarity

edging on pain…

deep inside.

The kind of pain

that can only be described as


These moments, as I lay alone

I am thinking of you, of us…

and more than that…

I am reliving how I love

your touch,

your lips,

your taste,


(Conchita, 1994)

*image by shutterbugbourdoir.com for pastease.com