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Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Please Master

By Allen Ginsberg



Please master can I touch your cheek
please master can I kneel at your feet
please master can I loosen your blue pants
please master can I gaze at your golden haired belly
please master can I gently take down your shorts
please master can I have your thighs bare to my eyes
please master can I take off your clothes below your chair
please master can I kiss your ankles and soul
please master can I touch lips to your muscle hairless thigh
please master can I lay my ear pressed to your stomach
please master can I wrap my arms around your white ass
please master can I lick your groin curled with soft blond fur
please master can I touch my tongue to your rosy asshole
please master may I pass my face to your balls,
please master, please look into my eyes,
please master order me down on the floor,
please master tell me to lick your thick shaft
please master put your rough hands on my bald hairy skull
please master press my mouth to your prick-heart
please master press my face into your belly,
pull me slowly strong thumbed
till your dumb hardness fills my throat to the base
till I swallow and taste your delicate
flesh-hot prick barrel veined
please master push my shoulders away and stare into my eye,
& make me bend over the table please master grab my thighs and
lift my ass to your waist
please master your rough hand's stroke on my neck
your palm down my backside
please master push me up, my feet on chairs,
till my hole feels the breath of your spit and your thumb stroke
please master make me say
please master Fuck me now
please master grease my balls and hairmouth with sweet vaselines
please master stroke your shaft with white creams
please master touch your cock head to my wrinkled self-hole
please master push it in gently, your elbows enwrapped around my breast
your arms passing down to my belly, my penis you touch w/ your little fingers
please master shove it in me a little, a little, a little,
please master sink your droor thing down my behind
& please master make me wiggle my rear to eat up the prick trunk
till my asshalfs cuddle your thighs, my back bent over
till I'm alone sticking out your sword stuck throbbing in me
please master pull out and slowly roll into the bottom
please master lunge it again, and withdraw to the tip
please please master fuck me again with your self, please fuck me
please master drive it down till it hurts me the softness the
softness please master make love to my ass,
give body to center & fuck me for good like a girl,
tenderly clasp me please master I take me to thee,
& drive in my belly your selfsame sweet heat-rood
your fingered in solitude Denver or Brooklyn
or fucked in a maiden in Paris carlots
please master drive me thy vehicle, body of love drops, sweat fuck
body of tenderness, give me your dog fuck faster
please master make me go moan on the table
go moan O please master do fuck me like that
in your rhythm thrill-plunge and pull-back bounce & push down
till I loosen my asshole a dog on the table
yelping with terror delight to be loved
please master call me a dog, an ass beast, a wet asshole
& fuck me more violent, my eyes hid with your palms round my skull
& plunge down in a brutal hard lash thru soft drip-fish
& throb thru five seconds to spurt out your semen heat
over & over, bamming it in
while I cry out your name
I do love you
Please Master.



Ice Cream Stardom

Jim Ingram, Easthampton ice cream baron and author of The Ice Cream Diaries was vacationing in Utah last week during the Sundance Film Festival. While there he managed to get his photo taken with this famous fellow Massachusetts resident.



His friend's daughter got to pose with Snoop Dog.



He also attended a conference featuring Robert Duval, Sissy Spacek and a surprisingly elderly looking Bill Murray.



Back in Easthampton, Ingram asked one of his teenaged ice cream parlor employees if she could identify the people in the photos above:

I showed all these photos to one of my 17 year old scoopers. She barely knew Ben. Had no idea who Bill Murray or Robert Duval were, but she knew the Snoop right away!

Ouch! The generation gap can be painful!

To read more about Jim's excellent vacation click here.

Today's Music Video



In every real man a child is hidden
that wants to play.

7 comments:

Unknown said...

thanks for that ginsberg poem Tommy, it certainly removes any doubt as to whether he was an ugly pervert

Tom said...

Ha! It is an ugly poem, but also it's hard not to admire the total honesty of it. It is repulsive yet fascinating at the same time, which I suspect was Ginsberg's intent.

Rich said...

Kerouac definitely wasn't into that!!

Tim said...

Repulsive but fascinating? Leave Bill Clinton out of this!

Duncan Mitchel said...

Actually, I believe that "Please Master" was written to Neal Cassady, not to Kerouac. (Possibly Kerouac felt the same way about Kerouac, though.)

What's ugly about it? I guess dealing with abjection is a lot more threatening to many people than abjecting someone else. I found it a lot scarier to read when I was young than I do now.

Tom said...

You may be right about Neal being at least an indirect inspiration for Please Master. Cassady's female lovers reported that he was into sexual role playing, and Ginsberg was an admitted masochist. Therefore it would be surprising if nothing like this ever occurred between them, as Cassady and Ginsberg had an off and on sexual relationship over many years.

Duncan Mitchel said...

It's been a while since I paid much attention to Cassady, but my understanding was that he was physically abusive to his female lovers, not just into "role-playing." But my memory could be failing me.

That being said, I don't think "Please Master" is a masochistic poem, but if it were, Ginsberg is the top -- he's the one giving orders, directing the scenario in detail. That's a good part of what makes it interesting; I'd say it undermines, or transcends, the whole myth of s/m.

I'm wondering too what Rich thinks Kerouac wasn't "into". Kerouac and Ginsberg also had sex from time to time, and Kerouac had sex with other males occasionally. (Gore Vidal was one of them.) He seems to have been more of a bottom, though; not a bad writer, but a depressing person.