A new little poem today inspired by a question
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".
*************
Facing the Wood
Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank
Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe
Men and women,
Crucified naked
In their hundreds
Along the line of march,
Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host
All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood
I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers
I reached my cross,
Lying on the roadside
Was thrown down upon it
Flat on my back
Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike
But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”
And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross
They tied my wrists,
To the patibulum
Into soft wood
They drove the nails
They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe
Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage
Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover
Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
Trickling over,
Protruding ribs
My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move
Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take
Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side
It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier
But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood
Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure
I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule
“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”
Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass
It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp
Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood
And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host
Barbaria, 2015
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".
*************
Facing the Wood
Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank
Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe
Men and women,
Crucified naked
In their hundreds
Along the line of march,
Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host
All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood
I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers
I reached my cross,
Lying on the roadside
Was thrown down upon it
Flat on my back
Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike
But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”
And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross
They tied my wrists,
To the patibulum
Into soft wood
They drove the nails
They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe
Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage
Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover
Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
Trickling over,
Protruding ribs
My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move
Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take
Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side
It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier
But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood
Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure
I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule
“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”
Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass
It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp
Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood
And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host
Barbaria, 2015
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