Monthly Archives: December 2013

Please…. Kiss her….

Ok… So I’ve been having a few discussions with friends of late…
Not to mention kissed my fair share of frogs…
I will admit, that although my needs may have altered with age, the fundamentals I believe, remain…

When it comes to first kisses
there’s a plethora of variations
so calculations quickly become void
or do they…?

Now I’m speaking from a womans
perspective, because, well… I am
and I come from a place of my opinions
not one of some higher authority
although, I am, a fucking good kisser
*giggles and bites lip*

First tip
Yes, tip
Now, unless you’ve been slammed
hard up against a cubicle wall
or thrown down onto a bed in a seedy hotel
then their throat
is not where your tongue
needs to seek
Keep it clean
Speaking of walls
that leads to the hands
no ass grasping
is gonna get you another date
however,
if you’re already against said wall
and it is your first kiss
I wouldn’t expect a call
just take, now, that is all…

But if she smiles
because you spoke
if she listens
to your breaths
if she laughs
just because
she couldn’t go
a single moment
without showing you
how happy she is
then this kiss
truly becomes
Do or Die
Sorry guys
There’s no easy way to put this
A first kiss
can not be reversed
every woman knows this
nor can it be rehearsed
it must be worthy
of her hearts flutter
it must be sensual
as if there’s never been another
it must be slowly approached
a gentle cheek stroked
perhaps a thumb
brushing the pout
that parts in succumb
it must be passionate
split seconds turned into eternity
it must be gifted
for if it’s taken
she won’t even fake
her blatant disinterest
it must be warmly caressed
fingertips lightly finding her hair
it must be close
yet not overdosed
with carnal greed
that there
is for date number…. We’ll see…
It must be seductive
lean in and inhale
her very essence
it must be productive
don’t linger longer
than she’s willing to wait
it must be toe curling
her body needs to know
that every fucking nerve ending
will surely explode
if you don’t kiss her… Now!
It must be hungry
yet not famished
she’s not to be savagely ravaged
tempt her thirst
by offering less
tease her first
by passing her tests
Please her
that is your only rule
this first kiss
will lead you straight in
to her mind
her heart
her core
or… Home.. Yours…. Alone….
Please her
this kiss is not about you
sure, a girl may take you
but a woman needs
to know
that her man
knows
that she is his
to be pleased
Please her…. Please….

I don’t believe
there’s such thing as a bad kisser
I’m more inclined
to see kissing as a personality
and as we all know
not all people are compatible
Somebody will want
to feel like they just kissed
a groping octopus
stuck in a washing machine
I’m sure of it
it just won’t be me
So… All I can say
if you want her to stay
kiss her thoughts
into yours…

Please
Her….

20131230-202515.jpg

Nothing is Devine

Be it due to no twitter
or just blatant boredom
Be it me, being a bitch
or just feeling argumentative
But, there is one thing
that lies beneath my skin
making me itch
grit my teeth
stirring snarls of disdain
causes a serious brain pain…

Devine!

Now I know I have a tendency
to be literally literarily snobbish at times
I find rhymes to be sublime
although many won’t agree
I often write cryptically
almost indecipherably
I am reliant
upon finding words
be they new to me
or well rehearsed
to express my journey
as best as each moment sees

I know, I myself
have undoubtedly placed
a their where a there
should have been
A were where a we’re
could have explained what I mean
Which witch is which
Yeah, that to, too, two tutu?
But one word that irks
my skin to crawl
beyond all others

Devine!!

Please, allow me to explain
The word itself
has surely earned it’s space
Divine
Divinity
Sheer utter utmost supremacy
Holding a Godly stance
and altered at just a glance
to being so loosely situated
in a disrespecting manner
Like a sin tainted spanner
rammed beneath the spokes
of a heavenly bound bicycle
How can it be built for two?

Devine!!

There is nothing so unrefined
as a soul spilling upon pages
in a search for deeper learning
seeking a higher ascension
yearning for worldly perfection
Yet wording, complete rejection
of the single most powerful word
the solely described worthiness
the holiest of poetic verse
and misspelling divine….

It literally hurts my eyes
*Sigh*

Ok, so I’m without inspiration
at a loss due to my disassociation
Begging myself to not click
that beacon button of reinstate
So today, all I have to say
is how much I fucking hate
reading word worshipers
who are unable to find
a synonymous line to scribe
as to not totally tarnish
the gloriousness
the purity
the sacred divinity
of divine
with DEVINE

*breathes….and giggles*

(Un)conditional Love

In truth
the only love
worth claiming
has no limit
no bounds
no hesitation
It is pure
unconditional
for it is not
subjected
to reason
to season
to lifetime

In truth
we each possess
such love
even those
who know
of only pain
of anguish
of torment
This love
comes from beyond
the confines
of our minds
it doesn’t hear
the lies
we continually reap
or sow
It goes deeper
than the hearts
that keep beating
out blood red
passions
and clashes
of rejection
It is of no sense
for it’s not
reliant upon a body
of any mass
There’s no maths
that can calculate
the formulation
of its origin
its creation
its procreation

It just is

In truth
we believe
we have a choice
to love
to hate
to remember
to forget

In truth
we are simply grains
of minuscule matter
feeding off the egos
of those that came
before us
Waiting to be taken
to the next step
of knowledge
of power
of surrender
of understanding

In truth
we matter more
than any of us
are consciously aware
for without
the incessant self doubts
the crippling desires
the guttural eviscerations
the verbal
the physical
the mentally abusive
stimulation
the wants
the needs
the dreams
the fantasies
we would be free
to just love…

And….who the fuck wants that!

Right??

Go Megan, it’s your Blogday!

Yet another entry
of my worded world
my scribed life
my poetic unknowns
my eclectic writes

66 countries
of wide worldly eyes
viewing
perusing
including their minds
with mine

1 year
365 days
117 posts
66 countries
1,084 comments
17,310 views!!!
That’s a whole lot of spanking right there!!

Makes Megan Kay
feel the need
to cuddlefuck you all!!!

Blown away
by the velocity of love
shared by each word offered
in response to drips from my pen

Time and time again
my life finds it’s way
onto these blog pages
in hope that it’s release
will bring my mind peace
Sometimes I click send
through firmly gritted teeth
my personal worthiness
often not feeling complete
And there you are
catching my fall
using your time
to scroll what’s mine
making it yours

Blown away
by your sheer generosity
You leave me humbled
in deeply puddled gratitude

I began this blog to battle the restraints of those strangling 140 character limits…
Little did I know, think, believe, any of you would ever read me…
I’m not a poet, nor a writer of any kind, I do though have a steamy infatuation with the curves of each letter I find, I have fought not to rhyme, my mums voice chiming in the back of my mind, binding my tongue at times, grinding behind my twitching thumbs, so, I’ve occasionally hidden my incessant addiction in flinging some forged forms of alliteration appreciation.
A little story here and there, has kept me from believing I’ve dropped the ball completely. Really, I told myself I’d have a book by now, and that is far from my reality. You see, the timeline, and the people that visit daily totally owned me. Not only while I was finding beauty in the world to share, yet in my dreams, be them asleep or upon open eyes, I needed, I craved, I yearned, ached, painstakingly, to find… You…
I scrolled, read, shed words of blood red, all in order to woo, to reach beyond the puddles that divided, I sent letters, of desire, hoping to inspire, I uncorked the bottle of my emotions, unbeknown your potions had been cast, and I, was spellbound. Drowned.
Last week, I found a crack, in the dark room that had me encased. I traced it, with fingertips that were laced with the chill of our last kiss.
That, was it.
Time, for me, had ceased.
The walls of worn pages all seemed to crease and crumble, I myself tumbled to my knees, not in grief, however, sheer relief.
Fuck! I’m free…

This week… Damn I miss you all!
I miss sharing my scotch o’clock with your morning coffee.
I miss reading of your triumphant wins against the battles with your shadows.
I miss the laughter, the hugs through tears, the dancing the swooning the deviantly delicious musing.
I miss my words touching, tangling, tasting yours.
I miss… Well… I miss you all!

Thank you, for being my addiction!
Thank you for feeding my insatiable hunger for this literary curse.
Thank you for your encouragement and support for all that I’ve gone through.
Thank you, for being… You
And allowing me, to be me x

Now, I’m not on the timeline, and if I was, I’d totally pimp the hell out of my blog this week… So, consider yourself lucky *cheshire grin*

Instead, I’m going to list a few of my personal faves…
I hope you enjoy x

Oh, one last thing….
@_MeganKay_ may not exist
but she is indeed alive and inspired xxx
(Not to mention totally batshit crazy speaking of herself in third person)

Lie to me poet

His power

Balancing Act

My moon

Wounds

Between two minds

Upon ripened eyes

Beyond words

I want

I’m taking you with me

Foreplay

I adored every second of how this one came to be! Thank you x
The Tweeples Piece

Come, with integrity

And just for shits n giggles…
A little holiday joy… *winks*

Merry Christmas Handsome

Happy New Ye….s. Right There

See you soon…
Love to you and yours x

Twittercide

I hardly believe it’s for forever
Yet I’m almost hopeful it is
The timeline has stolen my mind
For far too many days and nights

I have no amount of will
To not tweet whenever
about whatever
So I needed to kill
the link between me
and my insanity

I am available
to those who wish to keep in touch
If you know me
you also know how to find me
Just in case you’re interested
in my luv for adventures x

I am unavailable
to those who have persisted
with mind fucks
Nor am I interested
in the awful gossip
that is currently running rampant

I have no doubt
I will return one day
Until then
I’m searching
for something
tangible
To touch
To clutch
To cherish
To adore

Above all
To love

Take care of you
That’s all I ask
And please….
Read the words
As written, as they are
Avoid reading between them
It’s a mind altering trap…
A web that entwines
the most diligent of minds
before they’re even aware
of the heart breaking binds

Take care of you
Be true to who you are
That’s all I’m doing
My twittercide is not me dying
Rather finding
My life…

Time to create my own world
of woven worded wonder….

* Enjoy the Journey *

Love
Always
All ways
Megan Kay
xxx

20131212-135906.jpg

Girl Talk…

From the moment we can
We do…
Girls talk…
Communicators
Sharing our truths
Be that of which Barbie
gets to wear the hottest shoes
Or which one gets a night out
with the almighty handsome Ken
We talk
We spend hours
discussing the hottest boys
in the school yard
Days splayed in the sun
speaking of our virginity
and how we gave it away
We talk to children
teaching them all we know
hoping our words
will assist their growth
We whisper to teens
allowing them a moment
to believe their dreams
are not just worthless
but worthy of every wish
We converse
over afternoon teas
with ladies of similar lives
driving our chats
through laughter filled afternoons
We curl onto sofas
nestle in nooks
of our aching despair
with chick flicks and chocolate
We march
screaming for our rights
We silence
quietly seeking stillness
We parade
our happiness brightly
We shade
our darkness with masked smiles
We grow
into women
So girl talk does too
It morphs
as all truths do
It becomes less
about gossip
of what others are doing
It becomes more
of our journeys
and how we are pursuing
~ Girl talk ~
Girls talk
Ladies talk
Women talk
We will always do
anything we need to
to learn unto ourselves be true
I myself
am no longer a girl
I have shifted
beyond that title
I am a woman
into my soul I have grown
Now, when I talk
it is not of the unknown
I have no regrets
I use my past as my guide
I have no reason to hate
I used myself as the bait
I will never be a victim
I created my entire world
I will never know it all
And that there
is why I adore
Girl Talk!

20131212-132126.jpg

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS (BDSM STYLE)

This piece was sent to me by a friend last Xmas… I did my best to source the author, through no avail.
I feel a little awkward in publishing it without their permission, yet, I find it so incredibly written!!
Please, if any readers recognise these words, let me know, so I can credit them with my humbled awe!

‘Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the domain,
Not a subbie was stirring,
(they were tied down with chain)
The shackles were hung
by the chimney with care,
And the St. Andrews cross
stood empty and bare.
The subbies were nestled
all snug in their beds,
While visions of floggers
danced in their heads;
The Dom in his leather,
and I in my slave cap,
Had just settled down
after getting our whacks.
When out on the lawn
there arose such a clatter,
I crept from the bed
to see what was the matter.
Away to the window
I flew very quickly.
Tripped over some handcuffs
and cursed soft and thickly.
The moon on the breast
of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day
to objects below,
When, what
to my sleep-crusted eyes
should unfurl,
But a miniature sleigh,
pulled by eight pony girls,
With a Dominant driver,
so forbidding and stern,
I knew in a moment
I’d a great deal to learn.
More rapid than eagles
his pony girls came,
And he whipped them,
and shouted,
and called them by name;
“Now, dashslave!
now, danceslave!
now, pranceslave
and switch!
On, subbie!
on slavegirl!
on, slavepet
and bitch!
To the top of the porch!
to the training room wall!
And I’ll redden your bottoms,
should one of you fall!
As terrified tears
before the cat-o-nine flow,
When they meet with an obstacle,
gather courage and go,
So up to the house-top
the pony girls flew,
With the sleigh full of sex toys,
and the Dominant too.
And then,
in a twinkling,
I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing
of pony girl boots.
As I drew in my head
with a sense of forebode,
In through the front door
the Dominant strode.
He was dressed all in black,
from his head to his feet,
And his clothes were all studded,
leathered and neat.
A bundle of sex toys
he had flung on his back,
And he looked very menacing
opening his pack.
His eyes, they were hard
with a definite glower
His countenance cold,
and I quite felt his power.
His sternly set mouth
bespoke no reprieve,
For the unlucky subbie
who caused him to grieve.
The goatee he sported
lent a devilish air
As did the slight spatter
of gray in his hair.
He had strong pectorals
and a muscular torso.
That hardened and flexed
and gave force to each blow.
He was lean, stern and fit,
quite the Dom of my dreams,
And I wanted to serve him,
so went down on my knees.
He looked down upon me,
with a turn of his head,
He made my soul tremble
while my heart filled with dread;
He spoke not a word,
but put me to straight to work,
He watched me in silence,
idly tapping his quirt.
“Heel me,” he commanded,
the lone words he would say,
And he stalked out the door
as I rushed to obey.
He sprang to his sleigh,
to his team cracked the whip,
Pulled me ‘cross his knee,
where i hung scared and limp.
And he whispered to me,
“I shall teach you a lesson.
Happy Christmas, new slave;
tonight we shall session.”