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Showing posts with the label poetry

The 9 Service Languages | Intensive Session Wrap Up Thoughts

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On Sunday, I wrapped up my first small group FULL INTENSIVE workshop that spanned 6+ hours over the course of 2 days. Anyone who has sat through my Intro class knows, The 9 Service Languages is a fucking BIG IDEA! When I first launched my class, I naively believed it could be tackled in a typical 90-minute or 2-hour session. I quickly learned that was impossible and that few platforms (cons, orgs, mtgs) had the ability to hold space for me and attendees to get DEEP in the weeds of WIITWD as it relates to Service. I am PROFOUNDLY HONORED that @S-O-C—the Service Oriented Conference—reached out to me earlier this year to be a part of their inaugural Intensive Program. They were the perfect partner with the perfect target audience for an Intensive of The 9 Service Languages of Authority Transfer Relationships/Dynamics. The session allowed me to work with a small group as we got our hands dirty, dissecting where, when, how, and why we do Service and considered ways to adjust, tweak, evol...
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The Eye of the Storm

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On my knees in silence. The winds of our need quiet. The rain of our passion dwindles. Time stands still.     In the eye of the storm.     I wait.         Battered.         Raw.         Yet still strong and fierce.          I survived. The imminent demand of dark clouds stalk the horizon. I bite my faint smile of anticipation. Distant thunder growls its menacing warning. That I instead embrace.     In the eye of the storm.     I wait.         My roots of loyalty and honor.         Keep me grounded.         I brace myself knowing...         I will survive. Violence trembles in my peripheral vision. This storm will soon break once more. Across my stoic soul. And a storm surge of hunger will overwhelm every that I am.     In the eye of the stor...
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Drip

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My flesh reflects my soul’s original flame. A sacred Goddess of intimate lustful beginnings.  My sexuality drips. From the mounds of my lush breasts. Across the valley of my waist and round curve of my hip. Down the globes of my plump pale ass.  Drip.        Drip.               Drip. I am.  The thousand sins You desire. The apple’s warm sweet nectar. Born in the wickedness of my mind. Falls from my lips and clings with longing to beaded red nipples.  Only the worthy lap at the fountain of my deviant desires. Drip.        Drip.               Drip.  I am. More than can be conquered. The whispered disapproval of old hags and broken balls. Amuses my shredded morality. I stand tall, proud on the crumbled ruins of their bitterness. And watch as they choke and drown under my sensual storm. Drip.   ...
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Unleash My Storm

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A buildup of desire. A flood of energy with nowhere to go. Emotions that batter and bruise. Though I try to dissipate the chaos. I am exhausted in the continued denial of my need. And the storm rages below my surface for release. Dark thunder pounds through my mind in search of resting place for my submission. Vicious lighting crawls through my veins seeking pain and punishment. An agony of insatiable lust licks and torments my every nerve. FUCK...Unleash the storm in me! I want nothing gentle or kind. The full blunt force of primal hunger and Dominance. Is the only fucking cure for my twisted sinful lusts. Show me that dark merciless beast in Your soul. Take from me all that You wish. With a cruelty born of pure greed and demand. My soul begs... For pain and suffering that pushes reality to the far reaches. To be used with brutal Sadistic intent until I'm a crumpled broken mess at His feet. I am desperate for His fury and passion. My lioness roars to be ...
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