Is Lust really, really, really such a sin?

Is lust truly a sin?
Forget for a moment
the pleasure it brings
Is lust truly the sin?

Two bodies lay
in consent
Deep in throws of
passion sent

Yet, we teach our girls
her body is sin,
and boys we teach
girls are just a thing.

In needs essence
and lusts demand
Abandoned fears
at lovers command

Girls we teach
vanilla sex,
Boys taught shame
In sex Ed.

A mutual taste
swarms and curves
chemicals released
Intimacy learned.

Girls we teach
are a vessel for boys,
Their skin, hips, boobs
and body’s a toy.

And bonded in
shared escape
two souls form
In respect not hate.

Girls we teach, save
yourself for the
special him,
Boys told sow
that seed and the
kids it brings.

Lust is a primal
calling, perfect
when truth is
unfolding, forming.

We teach our girls
mechanical sex,
robotic emotions
on shames
commotions

Lust is beauty
a believe in the
spirit, the skin
and desire within.

We teach our boys
to screw the body
and forget the
soul… Insanity.

The tickled edges
of self, caressed
empowered
and embraced

Yet,
we teach our kids
that lust is
Shame… Like their bodies
infedelity… Like the truths
we teach daily
The devils sin… from the
mouths of the fallen.
Weakness… From those
who fear their very souls.

So I ask again is lust the sin,
or the united ‘we’ society sings?

Karen Hayward ©2018

Knowing that we are a soul
among souls within the
Infinite source…

… Does not make us an
awakened soul.

Then does…Standing
firm within
the shadows strong in
our convictions, aware
in our beliefs… Perhaps.

Or perhaps it is when
our awareness screams
louder than our ego,
when we care more for                                                                                                for the ripples moving from us,
then the ones heading at us,                                                                                       

Perhaps being awakened is when                                                                              we know the where about’s of our                                                                      every ripple and choose
to protect as the ebb along their path…

Karen Hayward ©2018

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Black Leather and Red Kisses

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Will you bind me in tomorrow’s kisses
My skin bare against black leather
Squirming, pleading with wishes
and tender lips as soft as feathers.

Will you lose yourself in eyes of innocence,
fingers caught between flaming curls
Pushing pulling testing resilience
Let the inner she, unfurl.

encapsulate her essence in hues
of Technicolour, tickled fingers trailing
between the beats, just her, you
And passions fires truly flaming

A rare puzzle piece beyond defining
Would you embrace the effort in refining.

Karen Hayward © 2018

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The Scorpion knows, the Scorpion bites…

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Sometimes you can bite a tongue too deep,
Awaken a dormant sleeping beast,
A Scorpio was never born to be meek
Her protective stance is her sleep…

But scales must be aligned, to be fair
You ever wondered how she got there?
A Lone walker, she needs no one to care
Self destruct, from a single source they share.

Now silence echoes as the future calls
A blip on the radar she will cut the cord
Pull at the lines and break her own fall
At best it will leave her just a little bit sore.

For meekness was never her skin
and respect not given where dues
Is the strength it now brings
as she wanders away,
to forget about you, for the loss
of respect, where respect was due.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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..and they bottled the good the bad and the ugly

… And so he collected pain in small jars and labelled them the past, with a footnote for the future…

… And so she collected pain in small jars and labelled them the future with a footnote for the past…

… And when she appeared he knew within his core…

… And when he appeared she knew it was her call…

… And those jars of pain that belonged to another, they whispered, shouted, screamed and demanded take cover…

… Believing her to be the devil…

…he opened up their lids at the first hurdle and let their essence spill…

… But she was the angel sent to save him..

… And so in fear she tumbled, the jars fell smashed upon the floor…

… And now she drowns in his despair no hand reaching there…

… For he was the angel sent to save her…

… And now, alone, she wonders if he was the devil.

…and they collect pain in small jars upon a shelf…

KH©2018

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