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Fucking Crazy

Fucking Crazy like it’s my right
Bat shit ain’t got nothing on her
She’s earned the right to the name

Fucking Crazy up against the wall
Bent over, upside down and downside up
She’ll do it any way you can, she’s got that command

Fucking Crazy because she has my heart
She’s got my dick too, in her hand
Up her twat, and whatnot. She likes it too!

Fucking Crazy, why the hell not?
She’s cute enough, damn sexy to tell true
She’s not good enough for me but way too good for you

Fucking Crazy because she’ll have me
Fucking her  tonight, tomorrow and the day after
Fucking Crazy. Who’s fucking you?

Woman laying on a bed semi-clothed with open books around her

A Taste of Stew Erotic Stories Collection

A selection of seven short stories ranging from a heated argument between a mom and dad that turns steamy, or a couple going outside for some risque fun, to an interplanetary smuggler getting frisky behind a hotel desk. Fun, well written stories with high spice.

Don’t You Forget It

I’m a poet.

- So you say.

But poetry is not my thing.

- So you have nothing to say?

It’s my caffeine kick. My jolt of coffee for a writer’s day.

- So you’re addicted?

Not an addiction as such,
More of a medicine. 
Not my muse but my hit single.

- Hahah You think you have hits? Have you seen -

Listen. I don’t need the lip.

- You’d talk this way to your “hit”?

I’d hit you myself if you had -

- Ouch. Going with the ‘you’ve got no body. You’re not real.’

You’re the one that started this.

- Did I?
- Your first love eh? Awww.

Well no actually.
We met later in life. 
I’ve been writing stories

- Always the bridesmaid, never the bride

You’re rarely even in the wedding.

- You slut!

I mean you’re there
But I’m not
You’re screaming
But not my pain
You woo
But not my moves
You’re the agony of someone else’s defeat

- You enjoy this don’t you?

Meh. 

- Meh?
- Mehhhhbe. Maybe. Yes. 
- You are here too often for it to be less.

I must confess
I am enamored.
I enjoy 
Our little tête-à-tête.

- Awww. I love you too.

No, you don’t.
 
- You’re right.
- But we need each other.

And don’t you forget it.

This is for a dVerse prompt- The Prompt: Write an Ars Poetica that reveals your writing process through imagery, symbolism, or personalization.

I took the personalization a little literal in that it is a conversation with poetry as a person. Interspersed is imagery and symbolism in the conversation.

I must confess, I do not have a love of poetry, neither as a writer or reader. If I was forced to read or write one form of writing it would be fictional prose but as I wrote above “we need each other” poetry and I. Knowing someone is reading something I wrote literally keeps me writing. At least at a pace faster than something that would make even George R. R. Martin wince. LOL.

So to all of you who are reading or have read. Thank you! From poetry and me. 😊❤

Broken Young

Broken.

Green things. Once was growing. Now? Just broken

Black and white. Just shades of grey. Still growing. Just to be broken.

Young.

Not mature. Not in the way that they grow. Still much life to give had they given it a chance.

Child. Not child like. Mature too soon. She never had a chance.

Thorns.

There to protect. Prick your finger, maybe your thumb. Don’t pluck the roses.

No one was there to protect her when the predator came. Now she protects herself, even if sometimes she’s the one with cuts.

The Only One.

The only branch broken among the bush. Was it an accident by a passer by, the gardener’s glove, or nature’s way?

Alone in the dark. Nobody to push you or push back against. Safety in solitary. Naturally.

Focused In The Light.

Fill the frame. Background blur. Sunlight is nourishment. Colors to be seen.

The sliver of light brings into focus the eye. Contrast to all that surrounds. Black & White.

Broken Young
Thorns among the only one
Focused in the light

This is for a dVerse prompt: From the images below, choose two that YOU feel could create a contrast. Then use them as a foundation to build your poem.

I chose the two images at the top. I’m assuming for the poem the gender of the child is she. I hope you enjoy! 😊

The Longest Day

The year’s shortest night
Looking towards the heat or cold
The moon says goodbye

I yearn to tell you of the heat that burns. The glare of the sun’s rays blinding me as I look out my door. Yet you are in the south, way south. The land of Vegemite and killer everything. The same sun shines down on you but for you the long days are getting shorter. Yet my longing grows.

Welcome summer sun
Come sit and sip tea with me
Remembering spring

Springtime. The winter ended. We talked and walked hand in hand. You mentioned plans. I held mine secret. Spring rains bring summer blooms. But only if the bulbs remain. I thought I could keep you planted here.

Solstice seasons change
Birds still sing in the morning
Longest days still end

I held out the ring to you. Bended knee became on my knees bent and broken. You had already made plans. Your future was charted beneath the equators band.

“You wouldn’t stay for me?”

“You would ask?”

“Selfish”/“Selfish”

I still have the ring, the box, wilted roses, dried by the sun, sit in a vase on the table. I don’t have her. She left. She said she was and she did. I wasn’t going with her, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to and I couldn’t have even if I wanted to. She knew that. She had to have known that when she took the offer. Yet, she took the offer. But she didn’t take my offer, my ring, my promise. So it sits on a table with wilted roses in a box waiting for the longest day to end. And I wait for the morning’s sun to rise.

This was for a dVerse prompt: Write a haibun that alludes to the first Solstice of 2026. I hope you enjoy! 😊

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Except You

Image by Alexander Lesnitsky from Pixabay and edited by me.

Everybody loves me
Everyone wants to be my friend
Everybody loves me
Except you

I can go anywhere with anyone
I can eat alone and still have fun
I am loved by everyone
Except you

I am my own best friend and know all my secrets
Have my own hand to hold
I am well connected and stable. I need no-one
Except you

Everybody loves me
I can go where I want
I’m my own best friend
I have everything
Except you

After All is Said

Sometimes that after is just mmm, sometimes it’s meh, and sometimes it’s just ffs. No matter how it ends it’s poetry. That is if you read After All is Said. Explore the spectrum that happens after the sex is done.

After All is Said . . . 30 poems about what comes next. Read poetry that deals with how it feels after you’ve been intimate, in a relationship, out of a relationship, in love, out of love. After All is Said … What’s left to say? These poems.

Orange Sky

The sky is orange today
That is a good thing
Much better than grey 
Dark and menacing
Not black like night
Black is the comfort of a blanket
With no stars
You can’t see what hits you
And that’s just fine
As long as what hits you
Does it’s job and ends the line

But the dark of grey
Like steel in the sky
Menacing and mean
Just waiting to strike
Rain may fall 
Like acid upon my skin
Or perhaps a lightening bolt
Electricity to burn my sin
Grey hides the danger
Until it’s too late
They come from above
You don’t see them from far away
They drop like dimes
Into a well, to make you unwell
Released from unknown hells

That’s okay because today
The sky is orange 
Like a fire’s rage
Burn up my eyes
Burn away the grey
I’m happy to see an orange sky
Probably something burns
But it is far away
Orange means the sky is free
That’s good enough for me

They say once the sky was blue
With white clouds
And when days would start
And when they would end
They’d have a varied hue
I doubt that’s true
But maybe one day
I’ll see a sky that’s blue

Today the sky is orange

This is for a dVerse prompt: Write a poem that involves a color or multiple colors! There is no particular form, length, or rhyme scheme required…your poem just has to be colorful!

This was more of a speculative fiction type poem and in a general sort of way; not really fitting into a specific genre but it can fit into more than a few depending on where it takes you. I hope you enjoy! 😊

Electronic Myths

Superhuman beings of unknown origin
Bytes of information formed in hieroglyphics of 0 and 1
Scrolls of code written in subterranean suburbia
Myths created in the garage of dad and mum
Spread across the planet, crossing the labyrinth
Now held in the hand
Conquering man

This is for a dVerse prompt: Pen us a poem of precisely 44 words (not counting the title), including some form of the word myth. Hope you enjoy! 😊

Sidenote: the image under the title is the title letters in binary. 😉

Punk You Ate

There is a rhythm no matter the period
That comes in the speech of these
Or in a pair of these   pair in these    pair in the these
          However you say it
In the speaking of these
That is natural as in the honking of geese

Come ma, see the speak easy
Exclaim to the nation
Her ex
Claymation, a post declaration
A eulogy to a past situation
A post strophe to a fallen tragedy

He lisps but still is smooth
In his diction 
Airy in his speech
Brace yourself for the hype
In the crowd
Dashing all doubt
Feel it in your colon
Semi rumble
Question Mark Luke or James
It’s all the same

The Punk You Ate Shawn

This is for a prompt from dverse: For today’s prompt, let’s have fun sans punctuation. You may capitalize lines, write in all lowercase, rhyme (or not), use enjambment or unique spacing, whatever other tools you use are completely up to you. Your poem must not be punctuated. Hope you enjoy! 😊

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Soft Explosion

They say California is where fools go to find their dreams and dreamers go to find their fool. Henrietta was neither fool nor dreamer yet she found herself stepping off the plane in LAX.

“Father forgive me for I have sinned. But not my will but thine,” she thought as she walked out of the airport.

She was here on behest of her father to rescue their west coast operations. Their west coast operations consisted of one store, in Hollywood, owned by –

“Rita!” yelled a man from the window of a bright blue VW Buzz with the radio blasting.

Michael. The head of T.I.N.Industries west coast operations, brother, fool.

“The hills so dry,

So dense the underbrush.

That where I push my way,

The giant hush;

Was changed to soft explooosiooon.”

The song blasted from the windows of the electric vehicle.

“Hey sis!” said Michael.

This is for a dVerse prompt: This evening, I would like you to write a Prose piece which includes the line:

“The hills so dry, so dense the underbrush, that where I pushed my way the giant hush was changed to soft explosion.”

From the poem “On a View of Pasadena from the Hills.”

The line from the poem reminded me of the southern California countryside and I was going to include it in some description of that but I wrote the first line and then when I went to introduce Henrietta she said she was neither fool nor dreamer and took the story in a different direction. The line also kind of had a lyrical vibe to it so I thought why not add it as a pop song in the background; which I think probably would have pissed off the original poet, which puts a bit of a grin on my face. hehe 😁
I hope you enjoy!

My Love & My Behavior

My love for you is unconditional however my behavior towards you is not
My love would swim the seas and grab the stars from the sky
My love knows the depths of the ocean floors and the heights the sun climbs
However I will not get on my knees and crawl just because you beckon

My love for you is the kind that moves mountains
My love would stand in the storm
My love knows who you are and who I am with you
However I will not destroy myself for you

My love for you has no end; timeless it spans the eons
My love would find you at the end of eternity
My love knows you from a single grain of sand among all the Earth’s beaches
However my time is my own to give

My love for you is yours and yours only
My love is given freely without recourse
My love is immeasurable and without end
However, I will do as I will; for my love is yours but my actions are my own.

A Taste of Stew

A collection of poems from seductive & spicy to thoughtful & observant. The best poems from the AuthorStew blog & across the Internet are gathered in this collection. There’s something just for you. Get a taste of AuthorStew’s poetry!