Horripilation - a poem

[Image description: looking upwards through a transparent umbrella to view multiple raindrops.

Photo ©️ & courtesy @paubearman on Instagram.]

*

horripilation

a wonderful

if infrequent

horripilant event

a mild evening

a light rain falling

shooting-stars

visible momentarily

passing through

the amber glow

of street-lighting

raindrops tickle

on exposed flesh

a cool breeze

tousling my hair

though

not worrying

how I appear

a sweet, earthy scent

exudes from nature’s pores

penetrates

my nostrils

and stimulates

my olfactory sense

a total

sensual

experience

my id and ego

are in accord

just for once

my physiology

responds

messages

are dispatched

rapidly

breathing deepens

contraction

of cutaneous muscles

erection

of hairs on my skin

temporary pimples

spread like a rash

goose-flesh

and in turn

this arouses

a further reaction

another deep inhalation

then a shiver

takes root in my chest

sending its tendrils

to my neck

and chills

down my spine

all the way to my coccyx

the ignition

to a body-wide

explosion

of pleasurable

sensation

such

horripilation

*

A Spanish-language translation of this updated poem will hopefully follow shortly!

 

Antonio da Silva Film-Reviews

 

I recently viewed a couple of art-house films (movies) by the Portuguese cinematographer Antonio da Silva. They contain full-frontal nudity, close-ups of genitalia and sexual acts. So, definitely NSFW! Do not read any further, and certainly do not click on the links if the reader is likely to take offence (offense).

[Image description: da Silva hiding behind a palm, © https://mubi.com/cast/antonio-da-silva]

“Julian” (2012) Review

I am queer demisexual. The vast majority of porn, indeed most people in fact do not spark in my psyche the slightest sexual frisson. I can nonetheless appreciate the homoërotic nature of the cast and the æsthetic quality of the imagery in this short. At times the dialogue (mostly monologue ?) did merge into a poëtic art-form - and I wished those moments could have been extended. However, at other points the script felt stilted and jarred within me. I did feel the oral & visual narrative form a complete entity and as such I felt satisfied at the end. I agree this short very much feels like a love-poëm to Julian. I should very much watch on another occasion.

https://antoniodasilvafilms.com/julian

“Dancers” (2014) Review

Wow - as far as I am concerned this is a masterpiece: flawless cinematography; nigh-on perfect image-sound editing; dazzling dance-movement; and (I am assuming) careful choreography.

No choreographer is credited as far as I could see: so did the director dictate the movements or was it serendipitous, improvised moments that were cleverly woven to form this pæan to free masculinity in its animistic atavism, unfettered physicality, uncensored sexuality, glorious creätivity and intense emotion?

I started at the belt whip-crack. I gasped at the young men’s beauty and talent. I laughed at the Amen. I “Ouf!”d at the ejaculations. And I wanted to hug some of them in the (seemingly) vulnerable moments when they collected up their clothing. This is probably one of the most intimate films I have ever had the pleasure and privilege to view.

Usually porn makes me feel like a voyeur, uncomfortable and thus unable to enter the fantasy proffered. This homoërotic short did not point the finger-of-blame at the viewer, but rather drew us - indeed me - into the performances. This is a veritable tête-à-tête where the watcher is thoroughly inveigled into the dance, pulled in as each performer’s very own personal dance- and ultimately sex-partner. If this is classed as porn, then I did not feel dirty for eyeing it. In fact, I came away feeling somehow refreshed and cleansed.

Masculinity is usually traduced in the media and within popular culture. In “Dancers” positive facets of our manhood are proudly displayed, for which a huge OBRIGADO to Antonio da Silva.

https://antoniodasilvafilms.com/dancers

My First Sex-Toy

WARNING: the following blog-post is about sex, using sex-toys; if the subject matter might offend, please do not continue reading.

*

When it comes to sex, whether with female (yes, I have dated women) or (mainly) men, I have been and thus am very vanilla. For those not in the know - and I definitely know there are plenty of you out there - this is a vernacular term for conventional sex. This roughly means, per Wikipedia:

"sex which does not include elements of BDSM, kink, or fetishism."

The links are there, so educate yourself if you so desire.

I have not had dozens of partners, and suspect I am one of the odd creatures on this planet who has actually turned down offers more often than accepting. Satisfaction of my libido is not the be-all-and-end-all for me or my life. I am very much a delayed gratificationist (the term is NOT specifically about sex). With one major exception - so the exception that proves the rule - I have not had any kind of sex on or directly after a first date. I am though very happy to explore light kissing.

For me I have to trust a person before I am able to play. (One day I hope to have the courage to write about the abuse in my past and the rapes: but perhaps that gives an indication as to why I am like this. Or maybe it is an age thing?) I personally prefer to take things slow over a few dates. It does not mean I want to settle down permanently with the person receiving my attentions. I however enjoy: the looking forward to seeing the individual; the getting prepared for the dates; getting to know each other; the kissing; the caressing; the frottage; the dry-humping; and on to clothes flying everywhere.

I actually enjoy learning new things about sex, about how my body reacts - yes, at fifty-plus I am still experiencing new pleasures!

After a drought of more than a decade (in which period I had extended ill-health patches, but nonetheless turned down more than a handful of non-out to their wife/girlfriend bisexual guys - read my blog-post Bisexual Blues), in 2015 whilst on my annual health visit to Andalusia, I met a chap and we mutually hit it off. My account of this can be found in this blog-post Coitus at Last!/"White". The chap was quite liberated and had experience of a much wider palette of sexual activities than myself. For example, he offered to fist me, which I politely declined. I did however, later, accept engaging in piss-play (sometimes called yellow), another first for me. However, whilst passing a sign for a sex-shop it gave me an idea. So I dragged him in for moral support. I went straight over to the glass-counter displaying the shop's panoply of sex-toys. I was rather astounded at the range: so many shapes, styles, colours, materials, with whizzy lights, with sound-effects, and so on. I selected what I considered to be a rather elegant, glass toy (images below). In my head I argued that if it was not for me - after trying it of course - it would make a rather lovely paper-weight. Anyhow, the server really insisted I should purchase a larger toy. I, however, was having none of it: there was no way anything bigger than what I had selected was being inserted by either myself or my chum into my cavities. With that I paid up and we went off for dinner, then a gay-bar we both knew and so to bed. Chum broke the toy out of its packaging and gave it a wash prior to giving me a very good time with the dildo, which proved very versatile in his capable and experienced hands, etc.

Chum & I had a fling for three months and then went our separate ways, as we were not (and never would have been) compatible for any long-term affinity, even if either/both of us had wanted one. My glass toy did indeed become a rather pretty paper-weight in my bedroom and I have used it as such over the past couple of years.

This evening I came across a packet of lube (lubricant) I had forgotten about. So my little glass dildo got to give me some pleasure and relight wonderful sensations. Unfortunately, something was bound to go wrong and the whole utensil disappeared inside me, handle and all! Thankfully, after a few minutes relaxation, I was able to retrieve it. But, blimey, that young server back in the sex-shop was right: I need a bigger one!

Coitus At Last! / "White"

WARNING: the following blog-post is about sex, especially gay sex; if the subject matter might offend, please do not continue reading.

*

Those of you who have been following my blog are probably aware of my difficulties in finding a sexual partner. For BADD2012, Blogging Against Disablism Day, I wrote Sexual Eunuchs? about being gay and disabled, discriminated against twice by society at large and by the so-called gay community. Then for BADD2013 I scribed No Sex Please, We're… Disabled!, which hopefully highlighted some of the logistical difficulties in arranging a sexual liaison.

Well, a few months back, whilst on my annual sojourn in Spain, I finally - and fantastically - met a chap who was willing to play with this disabled writer. After more than eleven years without experiencing coitus, I truly felt like Madonna's virgin, "touched for the very first time". A tad nervous, to be sure. And giddy as an adolescent again too!

Thankfully, the lover and myself hit it off and we were able to have several days/nights of fun and games together. Yes, we had to pause to let cramps, muscle-spasms or stabbing pains pass. Yes, some positions proved impossible with my bone, joint and muscle issues relating to my various arthritic conditions. Yes, we had to pause so as I could regain my breath due to exertional apnœa. And yes, we had to stop for rest-breaks and sleeps, because of the ME/FMS. Through all this, though, we: laughed; gasped; giggled; chatted; kissed; and all the other things that lovers usually do. We had a lot of fun and parted chums. I was thankful for being able to both give and receive sexual pleasure once again. Mostly I was overjoyed to have tactile pleasure. I cannot say I did not want the sexual intercourse, as I very desperately did; but I was happiest at having someone to embrace and to cuddle me. I miss that intimacy.

Naturally, apart from my bodily fluids, my creative juices began flowing. As is my usual modus operandi, over several days I drafted a poem in my head, before finally typing it out and making final amendments and redactions.

What I wrote is neither poetry nor prose: it is somewhere in between. I have occasionally written other pieces that cross-over the two genres. Is it prosaïc poëtry or poëtic prose?

White…

White: the virginal page, upon which nought has yet been written; under the hand-scribed or typed words.

White: the spume of the sea, tickling the sand and giggling in a low susurrus; exhibitionist surf crashing on the rocks; the once-shy now wild white-horses frolicking in the sunshine and the salty brine; sea-angels coruscating whilst they play in the isthmus between water and air.

White: the clouds occasionally slipping through the habitual cerulean firmament; the blanket occasionally blocking the sun from view.

White: all the flowers in my garden - alegría, geranium, rose, cyclamen, kalanchoë, marguerite, snapdragon,…

White: the sense of peace, calm, tranquility, clear-headedness, purity.

White: the froth on our coffees; the head on our beers; the wine we daily drank, and supped, imbibed and got drunk upon; libation unto we demi-gods.

White: all my bedding, your sheets and pillow-cases enveloping our hot, our cold, our fevered shells; your bathroom’s sanitaryware taking away our bodies’ unwanted fluids and detritus; your soft, warm towels drying our skin and hair.

White: the hairs amongst the silken grey and black on your head, your chest and my favourite hirsute spot, the wee hollow between your shoulders and neck.

White: your buttock cheeks, sandwiched between your lobster-red torso and firm legs.

White: the little jewel sewn on your puce rosebud.

White: the cum that spilled across your salt & pepper’d chest this morning; mimicking a champagne explosion and creating an ephemeral œuvre; becoming diaphanous and then invisible as it soaked into your hungry flesh; disappearing as you from me, all except memory.

White.

Sexually Noisy Neighbours / Vecinos Ruidosos Sexualmente (Bilingüe)

This past week I wondered aloud on my facebook page whether one ought to applaud the roisterous coital acrobatics of one’s neighbours at the point where they have completed their activities. Would it be bad form? The neighbour certainly is impolite (I am British!), discourteous and quite thoughtless to wake up one’s neighbours in the night without good cause. And what to do if this is a regular occurrence? I decided to be proactive. So I wrote a letter (I am British!).

La semana pasada me preguntaba en voz alta en mi página de facebook si uno debe aplaudir las acrobacias coitales ruidísimas de sus vecinos en el punto en que hayan terminado sus actividades. ¿Sería de forma mala? Sin duda, el vecino es de mala educación (¡soy británico!), descortés y bastante desconsiderado a despertar a sus vecinos en la noche sin una buena causa. ¿Y qué hacer si esto es una ocurrencia regular? Decidí ser proactivo. Así que escribí una carta (¡soy británico!).

Dear Neighbour, 

Estimado Vecino,

Normally I should want to talk face-to-face with a person; but in this instance my (British) reticence and (hopefully) tact and (naturally) embarrassment preclude me from such action, due to the delicate nature (from an English perspective at least) of that which I need to express. I hope therefore you will not take umbrage at my putting my comments in writing. Of course, should you wish to discuss further the matters raised, I shall make myself available to you. 

Normalmente quisiera hablar cara a cara con una persona; pero en este caso mi reticencia (británica) y (con suerte) tacto y (naturalmente) vergüenza me excluye de la dicha acción, debido a la naturaleza delicada (desde la perspectiva de un inglés por lo menos) de lo que tengo que expresar. Espero, por tanto, no tomará sintió ofendido por mi poniendo mis observaciones por escrito. Por supuesto, si usted desea discutir más a fondo de las cuestiones planteadas, voy a ponerme a disposición para usted.

This apartment block in which we reside is obviously not constructed to modern standards. As such I am privy to much that occurs in your apartment. I presume that you also can hear what I am up to. 

Este bloque de apartamentos en el que residimos, obviamente, no se ha construido a los estándares modernos. Como tal, estoy al tanto de mucho de lo que ocurre en su apartamento. Supongo que también se puede escuchar lo que estoy haciendo.

Since I moved in in January, I have not slept through many nights due to being awoken by noises emanating from your apartment above me. I am assuming you must have some medical issue and hence the need for whatever machinery you run during the night and some siesta times. Having medical issues myself, and hence the reason for my being in Spain, I feel empathy for you and as such have made allowances for such disturbance. 

Desde que me mudé abajo de usted en enero, no he dormido bien durante muchas noches debido a ser despertado por los ruidos que emanan de su vivienda por encima de mí. Estoy asumiendo que usted debe tener algún problema médico y de ahí la necesidad de que cualquiera que sea la maquinaria se ejecuta durante la noche y algunas veces la siesta. Tengo problemas médicos a mí mismo, y por lo tanto estes son la razón de mi queda en España; así que me siento empatía por usted y como tal he hecho concesiones por dichas perturbaciones.

I can hear you: opening and closing doors, cupboards and drawers, whether in the kitchen or bedroom, for example; moving and emptying pales of water; brushing and mopping; removing footwear; walking about your apartment even barefoot/in slippers; getting in and out of bed; showering; flushing the toilet; urinating; laughing; some conversations; and having sex. Likewise I can hear your visitors’ footwear, voices, laughter, etc. 

Puedo oírle: abrir y cerrar puertas, armarios y cajones, ya sea en la cocina o el dormitorio, por ejemplo; el movimiento y el vaciado de cubos de agua; cepillar y fregar; quitar el calzado; ir de pie sobre su apartamento, incluso descalzo/en zapatillas; entrar y salir de la cama; ducharse; descargar del váter; orinar; reír; algunas conversaciones; y tener relaciones sexuales. Del mismo modo que puedo oír el calzado, las voces, las risas, etc. de sus visitantes.

This week I was rather disturbed by your extremely rowdy sexual activity; not only by your highly vociferous partner, but also by what sounded like the bed coming through the floor/ceiling above me, which fully roused me. In effect you were forcing me to bear witness to your sexual acts, which could not be avoided by my moving to the sitting-room - I tried. I might add that when compared to modish voyeurism (consenting participant/s), there was no pleasure involved on my part (non-consenting participant). It made me feel extremely uncomfortable and rather embarrassed. Imagine if I had had my nephews staying with me: how would I have explained what was going on? Or my mother-in-law, who has excellent acuity (and is due to visit for a week towards the end of April? 

Esta semana estuve bastante preocupado por su actividad sexual muy ruidosa; no sólo por su pareja muy vociferante, sino también por lo que sonaba como la cama que entra por el suelo/techo por encima de mí, lo que me despertó completamente. En efecto me estaban obligando a dar testimonio de sus actos sexuales, que no pudieron ser evitados por mi mudanza a la sala de estar - lo intenté. Debo añadir que, en comparación con el voyeurismo de moda (participante/s consintiendo/s), no había placer involucrado en mi parte (participante sin su consentimiento). Me hizo sentir muy incómodo y algo avergonzado. Imagínese si hubiera tenido mis sobrinos se alojen conmigo: ¿cómo me he explicado lo que estaba pasando? ¿O mi suegra, que tiene una excelente agudeza de oír?, (y quién se debe a visitarme durante una semana a finales de abril).

Of course I am not asking you to refrain from engaging in sex. What I am asking is that you have some respect for me (and I assume the neighbour(s) above you) and try to keep the level of sexual noises to a minimum, particularly at night-time when noises can be perceived more readily. 

Por supuesto que no estoy pidiendo que se abstenga de tener relaciones sexuales. Lo que pido, por favor, es que usted tiene un poco de respeto para mí (y supongo que el/los vecino/s por encima de usted) y tratar de mantener los niveles de ruidos sexuales al mínimo, sobre todo durante las horas de la noche en que los ruidos pueden ser percibidos con mayor facilidad.

I hope I have not offended you and that my Spanish has been sufficient. 

Espero que no le he ofendido y que mi español ha sido suficiente.

Yours sincerely,your neighbour in apartment ### 

Cordialmente,su vecino de apartmento ###

[Image description: my bedroom-window below the eternally shuttered equivalent of my neighbour

Descripción de la imagen: ventana de mi habitación por debajo del equivalente eternamente con obturador de mi vecino]

What, if anything, would you the reader have done? Feel free to write any comments below.

¿Lo que, en todo caso, el lector ha hecho? Siéntase libre de escribir cualquier comentario a continuación.

 %S

Horripilation

After so much time in Spain and away from the UK, I am beginning to miss rain…

An alternative title to this poem would be 'goose-bumps' or might even be 'orgasm'!

horripilation

a wonderful

if infrequent

horripilant event

a mild evening

a light rain falling

shooting stars

visible momentarily

passing through

the amber glow

of street lighting

raindrops tickle

my exposed flesh

a cool breeze

tousling my hair

though not worrying

how I appear

a sweet, earthy scent

exudes from nature’s pores

penetrates

my nostrils

and stimulates

my olfactory sense

a total

sensual

experience

my id and ego

are in accord

just for once

my physiology

responds

messages

are dispatched

rapidly

my breathing deepens

contraction

of cutaneous muscles

erection

of hairs on my skin

temporary pimples

spread like a rash

goose-flesh

and in turn

this arouses

a further reaction

another deep inhalation

and a shiver

takes root in my chest

sending its tendrils

to my neck

and chills

down my spine

all the way to my coccyx

the ignition

to a body-wide

explosion

of pleasurable

sensation