Asphodèle-Erotic Poetry

1
Asphodèle
POEM
BY C
DEAN
2
Asphodèle
Poem by c
Dean
List of free Erotic Poetry Books by Gamahucher Press
by colin leslie dean Australia’s leading erotic poet free
for download
http://www.scribd.com/doc/35520015/List-of-Erotic-
Poetry-Books-by-Gamahucher-Press
Gamahucher press west geelong Victoria Australia
2021
FP: The Toilette “ Gustave Moreau

“
3
Publishers
introduction
Ahh dean what be thy
Asphodèle
be it be about the transience
of beauty or be it about
ecstatic passion be it be
composed of self contained
lyric fragments or be it be
one long narrative epic what
be sure be that it is
composed of antithesis ast
4
one of its rhetorical devices

using contrastive themes
along with rhyme alliteration
assonance and consonance
with moods like rasa of
Sanskrit of the erotic and
the terrifying where life is
tinted with times decay Ahh
dean what be thy
Asphodèle
be it be the wisdom of old
Khayyam and Abul-
Qâsem Ferdowsi or
5
Bhartrihari and
Ozymandias
be it sure be it be songs of
the paradox of life drunk we
be on the elixir of youth
enjoy we our spring yet
embedded in the lilies flesh
be decay be lifes transience
we drink of life ast we die
whenst we are born we begin
to die this be not a lie ast
sings these songs Ahh dean
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what be thy
Asphodèle
be it be for sure full of
hidden correspondence
betwixt life and death the
links fusing life with decay
Ahhh dean perhaps thee be
a kavi that sees or be thee a
pervert or perhaps the
highest poets laurel a
pornographer
7
Preface
Ahh ye beauties of the
world take heed of the
words of Ozymandias take
heed of Bhartriharis
admonitions pay heed to the
wisdom of old Khayyam
and Abul-Qâsem
Ferdowsi time runs out too
soon and youth fades youths
light goes out so make merry
whilst thee may
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Asphodèle
blooming my cunt flowering Lilies
and Roses white bright blossoms
twixt my thighs lie petals burst with
rapturous life at the touch of I that
meadow of Asphodèle
Ahh that face flushed pink like the
new dawn sun that flesh giving life
to I turning I into quivering bliss
with each touch of I guiding the
soul of I to paradise I die yet
Asphodèle that mound of pulpy
scented flesh in its youth hast the
tint of death to times continual roll
all must yield in that youths pulpy
flesh be the beginning of decay time
passes away Asphodèle away
9
Asphodèle
that cunt of I full brightly lit with
dew decked diadem of stars that
flesh silky curtain hung with
moonlight that cunt hole moons face
bewitching the youth-time lutes play
softly and lovers sing melodies of
ravishment to each to each fanning
each to each with scents of sandal-
breaths and the cunts lips flesh full
out furled like a peacocks plumes
lit with lusts strings of pearls but
Oh Asphodèle within all that paint
and colours of spring the withering
begins the silky flesh fades and time
will shroud thy lips with dust fine
10
Asphodèle
that cunt odour of I heady scent in
panty white that wafts thru skirt
curling round thighs that lick the
flesh of cunts lips that kiss the
cunts holes rim sweeter that Lilies
and Roses white that lures their
sight like bees to flowers sent to I
that scent of I that caress the soft
flesh of the cunts slit but Oh but
Oh Asphodèle the flowers scent
doth quickly fade and the sluty bee
doth swoon to perfumes of younger
blooms will take thy place will be
the bee on drunken be
11
Asphodèle
this cunt of I love I to watch that
flesh burst into hues radiant with
exquisiteness that colour of that
flesh to glow with folds and lips
puffy that mouth of flesh ready for
that kiss that kiss to sup the
jewelled goblet of that cunt of I
that cunt of I with that kiss to
break up into myriad hues of
swelling flowery flesh that flower
of delight but Oh Asphodèle all
that to be born is to begin to die
andst soon o’er that flower of I
lilies snow white will grow and lie
12
Asphodèle
Oh this cunt of I be it be a meadow
of flowers where each lips petaled-like
hast been kissed by lips ast many drops
in monsoons rains where each kiss be
replaced by petals sweet bruised fromst
lips pressed where each kiss replaced be
by the sighs of I Ahh Asphodèle that
this cunt of I wouldst have ast fecund
rain all the kisses of those that hast come
andst those which will come again but Oh
Asphodèle maketh hast for the caravan of
old Khayyam hast started for the Dawn
of Nothing
Annihilations waste so of life do taste
before to late
13
Asphodèle
Oh this cunt of I of all the flowers
that be this be the bloom that loveth I
the best Ahh the deep hues of those
Lily lips the white tints of the Rose
along the folds of that squishy cunt hid
within those panties of I hid within
those panties of I full growing wet
spot heady perfumed with oozing cunt
scent Oh Asphodèle that heated
furnace of flesh love I the best hot
house bloom of fervent desires but Oh
but Ohh Asphodèle
the days pass fleeting flashes of time
and the day ist near whenst within the
tomb I shall lie and this flower of I
shallst be shrouded in the fetid scent of
decay
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Asphodèle
Ahh cease not those kissess o’er the
cunt of I cease not them to be ast this
bloom of I doth feed upon those lips
doth feed upon those breaths e’en in
sleep this cunt of I weary not of those
kissess foreth my lips doth feed upon
those kissess Ahh bringeth on the
dawn the night bringeth on those heady
times when those lips doth kiss the
flesh of I whenst my lips curved ast
the tigers mouth to devour but doth not
my desires to be slain but Ahh
Asphodèle
Taketh heed for time be the devourer of
all things and of life drain and thy time
will cometh soon to be slain
15
Asphodèle
Ahh this cunt of I hast clung I
with heated breath of fire with breath of
fire thru eternities of firery desire Ahh
howeth doth I lust with thee with thy
drips of honey clinging to the fingers tip
of I Ohh lanquid perfumed spongy
bloom howeth I hast plucked thee like
some golden lyre of Orpheus howeth I
hast sipped thee like some Sufi wine
musk tinted howeth I hast drunk in
thy ordors fuming fromst that hidden
aclove of flesh Oh howeth hast I
sung thy joys with lusting words But
But Ahh
Asphodèle
The time ist soon whenst death
captures thee and thy voice willst be
unheard
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Asphodèle
Oh howeth this cunt of I blossom
bursting twixt thighs white of I be
ripe fruit ripe fruit mushy pulpy
lusciousness blooming mango or
sloshy fig pink and succulent Oh
Asphodèle
howeth that juice of that cunt of I
tingles the papillae of the tongues tip
that seed pulp fruit of passion come
ye all and squash thy lips in that
spongyness and breakfast thee thy
fill but Oh Asphodèle
in times short run all fruit do drop
and be the feast of worms slithering
in that mushy decay
17
Asphodèle
Ahh may this cunt of I be decked
in moonbeams garlanded with the
tints of the new born dawn may it
breathe o’er all the perfumes of
Lilies white Roses fumes may this
flesh burn thy flesh may its heated
breath dry up the mighty seas may its
cunts hole liquidity drown the earth
in it scented froth may the snapping
lips of this cunt of I eat up all life
upon this ephemeral speck in the
universe but Asphodèle Oh for ast
Bhartrihari sayeth bow thee down
to time for with it we come and with
it we go
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Asphodèle
Ohh that cunt of I be my shrine of
delight my alter of supplication that
cunt of I be my temple of worship
that worship of that flesh that flesh
surging with lasciviousness that
Kaaba to which all shes and hes
turn that Kaaba to which all doth
bow and prostrate be Ahh
Asphodèle doth say with dulcetly
Ah Look all ye at my cunt and all
ye lusting delight but Ahh
Asphodèle
heed I the words of Ozymandias

and despair
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Asphodèle
Ahh the perfumes of all the blooms of all
the flowers o’er land and sea neither nor
enchant I ast doth the scent of the cunt of
I that clutches to the flesh of me Ahh the
lanquid lips like Lilies white roses tints
perfumed like the scent of paradise and the
cunts holes water quiddity of felicities
bewitches I Ahh howeth ache I with
fervent desires for the gaze the look fromst
he or she for the mouth of flames for the
lightning kiss of a she or he for that
crimson flower bursting with heat that
crimson flesh afire but but Oh Asphodèle
remind I of Abul-Qâsem Ferdowsi
quoteth he Tahir Khusrawani “I mind me
of my youth and sigh Alas for youth for
youth gone by”
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Ahh the cicada cries not knowing it

willst soon die
With no outward sign the fruit
fades
Drops to rot upon the earth
Ahh but in moonlight a new born
bud bursts forth in birth
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isbn 9781876347139

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FP: The Toilette “ Gustave Moreau

one of its rhetorical devices

heed I the words of Ozymandias

Ahh the cicada cries not knowing it

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