Devil

Beautifully dark and explicit! The duality is a stunning contrast, like the difference between day and night. I would compare this woman in the bedroom to opium for an addict. You've done it again! Simply, and gloriously shocking, just how I like it. Always, Cat

Now this is awesome, glad to have waited. This is HOT, HOT, HOT, LOL. So you have been fucked and burnt, under her spell, by the She Devil. Well you have written a beauty. Well done, Black Prince. Love to all, Lyz. XX

wow the power of suggestion hits Neopoet with a frenzy of erotic. Fantasic write meaty and full of spice. The line 'I want her, anytime, anyplace, anywhere' was mesmerising. Seabhac

I realy love this.. its the brutal truth that women can be monsters and not only men.. very well done.. almost took my breath.. if i could i wouldve given u standing applause but lol that would be of no use.. take care :)

Unfortunately in my opinion if it has a heartbeat it has the power to destroy ... we often here of the plight of women ... but rarely of men ... Intense write ... I am afriad for once I dont feel the heat LOL ok people I am ok ... that middle bit changed it all ... stamped itself in the black ... and changed the write for me ... solid write HS ... but unfortunately for me the read was incrediblely sad ... funny how we all take something different from the same write love and higgest bugs Jayne x x

Wellllll, I can see you are not fostering a devil-may-care-attitude! Will ya please get these on a CD already? I want to pretend you wrote it just for me. ;-) ~A

did he? Sex, power, and money---the devil's favorite tools. I guess, for me, it would be watching Adam Lambert sing "Ring of Fire." Sex might be a woman's most powerful tool in winning one over on men (or maybe a good game of pool). But this model---she can't help it if she's beautiful, can she? There is a contest going on here, whether it's between male and female or between the devil and mankind. The dueling voices work well to impart that feeling. 'I want her, anywhere, anyplace, anytime' is a great repeating line. Yes, it is sad, (and true), but it's also hot. I enjoyed it---you might say relished. Deelilah

HOO.,Congrats on the spot. This is a good poem about a strained relationship with reality. The protagonist has an uncontrolable addiction to his favorite look of a woman, which he calls beauty. Meanwhile, he's already sure she is destuction. She has no love,but her appearance renders him insane. Been there, done that. Good luck finding music that is at once hot, sexual, driven, and sad beyond recovery. wcw

Wow. Powerful,poignant and exquisitely written. Raw emotion. You are extremely talented. Loved the repetition and rhythm. Will also be the first to admit woman can be just as bad, if not worse than men. And looking back at the age old story of adam and eve, the devil used woman to mislead man even then. Stunning hooded stranger

I've half a mind to join Anna and take up nagging you, too. When and where can I listen to the song? Some woman you are describing here, and a poor foolish man who is in love with the image he made of her, unable to see the truth that hides behind her angelic mask. He might try looking for a woman who does not have that angelic look about her in the first place ;) Well, there's no accounting for taste, and I guess we all fall for someone who eats us alive from time to time - the difficulty does not lie in falling, it lies in holding on to a thread of reality... Yours, ~Nina

LOL I just noticed a drunk comment from me ooppps ... anyway I just want to congratulate you on evolution with this piece I just had a reread and nope I still cant feel the heat .. its just so sad maybe its the way i read it ? but still my friend a great write ... congratulations love and higgest bugs Jayne x x x

This woman, I've met her too... it was disastrously wonderful, in a mind fucking sort of way. Very strong write here my friend! Richard

I have taken down my comment. I was tired when it was finished and, although I attempted balance, I don't think it sounds as favourable as i intended. Therefore I will review it and return it thereafter. My apologies for listing a comment of weight without sufficient editing. I am aware when I write these items that they risk feelings if not done carefully. Although I spent many hours on this comment, I don't think enough care was used by me. The topic is important and you invested a lot in the poem/music. And that needs better recognition. Regards, Brian Dear Hooded Stranger, I have amended my previous comment and now re-insert it: This is such an important topic. It is the whore/madonna picture, in very visceral language. Women generally find this kind of starkness disturbing, with cause, and, as men truly want female approval, it is very brave to put the feelings forth much as they are sometime thought. Perhaps the most disturbing part of the depiction for women is they do not always know where it comes from. Like most things, the answer in multivarious. But the emphasis must be on testosterone. Women generally do not have the same levels of testosterone as men and they are subsequently challenged to ascribe motive to this chemical. But here is what testosterone does: causes fetal development of the penis; substantially increases the physical size and strength of men verses women; increases competitive desire (even women in high risk positions generally have more than the normal female testosterone levels); and, generates sexual libido (interest) in both women and men relative to testosterone levels. One practical effect of testosterone for men, is that they have a strong enough sex drive to masturbate very regularly, often compulsively. Men also tend to desire sex with greater frequency than women. The same testosterone which spurs men in the direction of sex, encourages sexual exploration along its boundaries. To act as something of a testosterone curb, society mutes sexual odours. I argue that this is done principally to avoid additional competition and frustration for men in day to day life. Men are highly interested in female smells, something that women have been steered away from by deodorant commercials. Men are also really aggravated by the smells of other men. It is to be remembered that perfumes were initially used to mask male, not female, odours. To prevent street brawls during daytime hours, deodourants are thus encouraged, if somewhat disguised by the profit motive. In some other ways society is not so helpful. Catering to sexual fantasies, TV, film and the internet create a practical gap between the apparently possible (but not) and the actual. To some extent, this encourages male experimentation, often on someone he loves, who, because of lower testosterone levels, is often not nearly as enthusiastic. Women, at puberty, are often surprised by the new found interest men pay them. Small female flirtations provide far more reward than is easily explainable to anyone with the common female testosterone levels, largely because no one does explain it and their personal feelings do not always offer sufficient explanation. In this environment, a woman may remain largely unaware of the power of persuasion that her vulva, in particular, has on a man, or, alternatively, knowledgeable, but in contempt. These are not the only experiences, but they are common. The contempt response is tied to various things, including abuse, but also partly to the somewhat lower interest women have in sexual performance and partly to the seeming insult that male pining over a body part suggests to the person inside the body. For their part, it is not unusual for a woman to find her vulva to be "gross". This reaction is far from universal but it is common. This outcome has many causes, such as the potentially scary sight and smell of blood during a period, vaginal infections, conservative parental views about sexuality, traditional notions of purity, and a society commercially compulsive about deodourizing and infantizing women. In this context, some women lack understanding about the extent of male interest in the vulva, its secretions and odours, or for that matter, the degree to which a male will smother his person or his pride in a woman's vulva, actually or metaphorically. And for the male, it is not just testosterone. Access to the most private part of a person, especially a part to which insecurities are attached, is a huge symbol of male approval and acceptance. For much the same reason, women who are able to allow men to sexually perform during their period, are often very aroused by the inferred approval and acceptance by the man (assuming that is the posture taken by the man). This desire for confirmation of acceptance is a major inspiration to breach taboos, but that is not today's topic. Men, who are schooled early in notions of masculine strength, resent the effect of testosterone's pull on them, often against their linearly logical minds. They particularly resent occasions of concurrent female flirtation and contempt - essentially feeling sexually used and laughed at, a complaint shared with females but usually in the opposite gender direction. This humiliation, which is a traditional, if anachronistic, trigger of macho notions of revenge, may be inflated by the male brain, convinced by itself that its most valued want is not sex but "acceptance". Women have essentially the same feelings. They want confirmation both that they are desirable and that their value will be asserted beyond the confines of the sexual. The latter need, is perhaps heightened by the somewhat smothering sexual presentation of most men. As a result, women can closely link sexual proclivity with the man's "character", from time to time offending the latter, whether deserved or not. In fact, it is relatively normal for male masturbation to be looked on by a female partner with scorn, derision and/or jealously. If her views on sexual frequency differ from her partner, and masturbation is not an option, there will be mutual anger. And that is not so surprising. How often does a one partner say to another, "Honey, I am just going to masturbate here awhile. I'll try not to fantasize about anyone we know." I'm sure it happens, and just as sure it is not the standard. No, we go in search of privacy, which is near impossible for a recurring event in a close household, and sometimes gain the infamy of the secretive instead. The measure of the reciprocal feelings about gender disappointment is much evoked in this poem, and some of the comments it has garnered. But the motives of each gender are so similar: the continuing desire for acceptance, understanding and approval, sex being a very essential and powerful communication of the these things, or, alas, the opposite. Now, I have kept the language pretty clinical because these are hot hot topics (and I don't mean hot as in sexy (although the sexual compulsion, such as the poem describes, does have a sexiness, although often short lived)). Understanding needs a touch of cool and the impartiality of the clinical voice is helpful with cool. I am shifting now to more dramatic language, consistent with comment on the arts. This poem describes grief. It is the grief of lost innocence, lost understanding and lost acceptance. In a male context, these losses are commingled with loss of the validity of brawn, the loss of years to make good notional new starts, and the loss of leadership in a faster, more feminine and more egalitarian world. And it is a world in which the female brain, with its strong connections between right and left hemispheres, is frequently better equipped. The assertion of feeling in the poem is the spitting into the wind of these trends, if only to whisper a prayer for the passing of traditional meanings of courage and manliness and display some of the despair at the outcome of the gender wars. Men have had a major affirmative involvement in that outcome, for their hands had to be voluntarily moved from some of the levers of power, to allow replacement. The two most powerful stanzas are perfectly in the centre of the poem. My initial assumption that the highlighting has a non-poetic but functional purpose, was confirmed be reading some of your comments explaining that this is a song with prompts for different voices. From a purely poetic and mercenary point of view, those words become more powerful when their content alone carries the import. And, if you want poetic comment, as apposed to inculcating glory for an old work, you may wish to chose to firstly emphasize the poetic content, then add the highlighting related to scoring at your leisure. The most powerful line is four times repeated. It is the most powerful, because it is the most offensive: "I want her, anytime, anyplace, anywhere." It is designed to be offensive. It magnifies the imaginings of male caveman archetypes. In a kind of nostalgia of the imagination, it seeks a more simple, male dominated and, therefore, by implication, brutal world. I think men often amuse themselves with such thoughts. It fully objectifies and fantasies, putting all women out of bounds, as they are, in fact, feeling and real. Such descriptions tend to increase misunderstandings and fears women feel and which I have attempted to describe above. And, as the comments suggest, the content of the poem also caters to prehistoric female desires to find dominant, strong fathers to genetically endow children. But as a statement of grief, it has, at best, an ambiguous appearance. And this line is a metaphor not intended to be literal. I mean, there are lots of places I wouldn't want to have sex no matter what (for example, falling to earth without a parachute). I expect you are pretty much the same. As an attention grabber, this line works pretty well. It is a cliché, but I would not necessarily quibble on that count. For that matter, as an attention grabber, the poem works really well. Its capacity to garner attention is good, in part because this very blunt message needs be said if only so we find out about each other. And to go on acting on the feelings, as most all men and women do to some extent, without forcing the issue into the day, is the evil. Artistically, a blunt message can be very well served by blunt language and style. In that sense, this poem is blunt and workman-like; it is the whistle from a construction site to a pretty pedestrian who typically will never be more than a whistled memory. Nevertheless, work and whistles are resolute and determined. Unfortunately, rhyme just goes in a different direction altogether. (And here I took a long pause. For I had to decide whether to write the next few paragraphs or not. Both from a view to this author, to the view of the many different routes to writing and to the view of artistic poetry. And, the more I paused, the more I felt these paragraphs, which are hard on rhyme, were appropriate.) It reminds us, as so often rhyme does, of the schoolboy romantic heart which so many men carry (me too) (the true source of this poem), and that reminder is not enough of a reason to blunt all the gusto that had to be summoned for the words, bitch, fucking, whore, screwing, only to be followed by the rhyme, head/bed. Commercial music is a living and there is nothing to be scoffed at there. Nor is there less respect in the making of money from writing. But most things commercial involve factory contexts, the pumping out of Chevrolets, one after the other, and catering to pre-ordained market prejudices. We had a Chevrolet. It gets people around. And as the first new car we owned, it gave pride. No doubt, there will soon be hybrid Chevrolets, if they are not existent already, and then maybe the Chevrolet will adopt fuel cell or photovoltaic technology. But a Chev will always be a factory car. Or perhaps, another, closer metaphor will assist. My godfather’s uncle was a writer. Perhaps you have heard of him.? His name was Henry Bedford-Jones. He was possibly the most prolific pulp fiction author ever, with more than 1000 stories and 100 novels to his credit under an array of pseudonyms including Donald Bedford, Montague Brissard, Cleveland B. Chase, Paul Ferval, Michael Gallister, Allan Hawkwood, Gordon Keyne, M. Lassez, George Souli de Mourant, Lucian Pemjean, Margaret Love Sangerson, Charles George Souli, Gordon Stuart, Elliot Whitney, John Wycliffe. Heard of him yet? Not many people have. However, commercially he was an enormous success, making $65,000 each year…during the depression. He could and did write 25,000 words a day. Does anyone say, “I was just so moved by Henry James O’Brien Bedford-Jones!” If they did, they don’t any more. But he is one of the many contenders for the title “King of the Pulps”. And because he was being read, he had real influence in his time. And such influence is not to be sneezed at. This kind of poem/song, typically is influential. And poets desire, nay crave, acceptance too, very much so. But if they find what is salable and never leave that place they become artisans instead of artists. For today’s art is always the pursuit of the new. Don't let commercial music lead you astray on this one, if poetry is what you are after. And, I am not saying the rhymes are bad. Use rhyme regularly but do not let it dictate the form of the poem. In this case, the poem could have been a more muscular piece without the chronic end of line rhyme. Here the rhyme is driven by a commercial formula. For many, it has a safe, comforting affect, as anachronisms often times do. So, it breaches social etiquette but is the slave to commercial etiquette. For Indeed, that kind of rhyming is so often the etiquette of commercial appeal: to romance in a familiar Disney-esque fashion, which is to say, a fairy-tale manner, much to the inculcation of deeply misleading myths which pass as practical sexual information, no more and no less than sleeping beauty has left countless little girls waiting for the one prince. This is the predominant influence of romantic as well as anti-romantic commercial music. It is the Seven Dwarves hi-hoeing, although theirs was a less edgy metaphor. But it is unfair to pretend that the industry’s prejudices all belong on your shoulders, so rhyming will not factor into my overall conclusion. One of those workman-like devises which is outrageous and therefore highly desirable from a poetic point of view, is the madonna icon (model, dream, goddess, queen). Here that image is as unappealing as the bitch, whore, devil, woman. And that effort is, in my view, intended, crafty and adds really good emphasis. Overall, this is an inordinately courageous poem. It breaches etiquette and that is something poets need to practice, so they can lose some of fear's distractions during the pursuit of art. This courage leads to disclosure of a sacred shame shared by men, and as accomplices, witting or not, by women. There needs to be much revelation and discussion about these strong gender prejudices, many of which will remain chronic. And this work confronts the hiding with boldness. From a stylistic perspective, bravery sometimes hogs the limelight. I mean, just to get to the disclosure when one really wants acceptance is so notable. I am giving you five stars for incurring the fear, and writing past it, with many excellent stylistic devises and attention grabbers (plus attracting and, perhaps, enduring one of my longest comments). This is an older poem designed to be to music, commissioned by a third party. I will look for a more recent piece to comment on for next time. Having made strong comments on the effect of rhyme here, I am excluding it from my conclusion on the grounds that you may not have encountered this kind of critique and, there were historical-commercial dictates involved, as apposed to tomorrow's commercial dictates. Regards, Brian

I did catch the first write you posted Brian on this poem and I have to say the amended version is much more to the point and less of a rant. I think you both have rocked a lot of boats on this one but I find it very refreshing to have this kind of expression openly and honestly discussed. I'm sure I've learned a thing or two to help me cope better with male/ female relationships and this site is all about education, isn't it ? Poetry is a very strong instrument (next to sex of course...ha ha) words themselves carry such power. I have held back on commenting on this one for a few days to see just how people reacted to it and reflect on the effect of this type of write within the site,...very interesting. Keep up the good work, this place rocks.... p.s really liked the music on the link thanks Seabhac

Having read your tête-à-tête with Brian, I am truly amazed; that level of honesty and intelligence is not often seen or heard in any circle, poetic or otherwise. We have been taught to be who we are by a sick society, even if every generation gives the previous one the fickle finger of fate award. We are humans but we are much more than that, and we can overcome are base instincts that cause peril for the species. It's not about good old fashioned sex and lyrics or what is permissible in polite society (huh?) be it a poetry site or a locker room. It's about being able to create. That being thwarted at an early age or not given any chance to grow, grows into something that no society wants to admit. Failure. Failure to communicate, failure to foster civility amoung sexes, peoples and nations. So what is creativity? It makes us FEEL SOMETHING... Yes, you say, so does war and those who become serial killers or rapists, are seeking *feeling*.. But then that creativity is ultimately destructive and we can look back again as to how we have failed as individuals, as society and as would-be-artists, birthing an unsung song, building, poem, painting, story into the world. The drugs of the world are to mask the pain. What we don't know is that true creativity brings with it the pharmaceutical highs the body is equipped with, naturally *endowed* so to speak. Orgasmam/bliss is ultimate communion, so much better when shared and so much better when not made into something unholy. And we better be crossing lines. We better not be putting lines in the sand and daring the other not to cross it. Bravo to the spirit that doesn't look away from the truth, or hide its head in the sand from shame. This is how true healing comes about. And we all need to heal the wounds of our personal, *shameful* histories. ~Anna "...when it agrees with reason and it will benefit one and all, then accept it and live by it." ~ Buddha

I still give you 5 and 10 if you would like for this POEM/ SONG, I am a women and see no offence, I have read others worse than this and I actually do not know why all this is going on. I have been reading your work since day one and have enjoyed most and I must say, wasn't there a movie similar to to your write years ago, milder maybe but similar. This is an imagination of words and I see the freedom of speech has been questioned here. If one reads and does not like, please do not comment, Dan you are a very open poet, songwriter and you do know the boundaries, why all this fuss over one out of many who did not like this, dear Prince, I know what you write is not always what is, you never write to hurt or offend anyone, look, whoever started this needs to just not read your work and let you get on with it and they get on with theirs. And you cannot leave because of a minority, you have a fan base and it is choice, dear me, you get your arse back and let us all be nice. This seems to be upsetting to a lot so pack it all away and all come back with more writes, good or bad and leave the nasty comments in the shithouse where they be long, what did all mums say, if you cant say something nice do not say it at all. we do all have our likes and dislikes, so just say, something like, I was not comfortable with this poem, leave it at that, no big explanations, just do not revisit, and Dan, sorry about your mum, but you have no need to explain or defend yourself, you have done nothing wrong. My Dear Dark Prince, I will always stand by you and you know if I dont like something you have written, I will say but I have commented on every single poem you have written and you know how I am. Please dont leave, or else,lol. Now kiss and make up, water under bridge so to speak. See what you have all made me do, lose the plot and rave on again, lol. This computer better post this time, and after all This is only make believe. Your friend and fan, Lyz. XX

Hey dan, still love the write. SORRY, A bit late in sticking my 2 bobs worth in so now I am glad all is well, except, where are you Dan? And love to all. Lyz. XX

Language is an endless stream of symbols and metaphors. It allows the human animal to grow into complexity. However we retain our prehistoric emotional responses, such as the fight or flight choice. This dichotomy is representative of the conflicts residing in each of us. And nowhere are the weights of conflict more ready than in the power games of sex. Theo is attempting to represent in his comments, the humane, which most all of us share in abundance. And Dan's poem represents our bitterness and grief over the pain of past loves lost, caricatured in the power images of attraction and conquest. And most men (and not a few women) older than, say, 25, to pick a number at random, have had fantasies of degrading others going far beyond this poem. We walk a thin line, allowing the reprieve of our fantasies without moving to actual acts of degradation (which by their nature degrade both the subject and the object). Those who cross the line, which in some context, is all of us, require a way out of loathing. The way out necessarily involves communication, understanding of the meaning of the shared human experience and the allowance by self and others to re-establish the demarcation line. Theo and Dan are not articulating different views. They are simply emphasizing different places on the arc of experience: the latter the humane ideal, the former the absolute need to lift the lid on the brutish silence and begin the communication. The heat to the subject comes from the implied status of the person baring the symbols – holy/humane verses diabolical/profane. The wary will know that each carries its opposite. Particularly in this case, the apparent plainness of symbols has been shown to be misleading. We may choose to remember that most all of us are in Theo’s camp and Dan’s camp at the very same time. We aspire to humanity in its most humane form. Ironically, the only real way of getting there is to admit profaneness and find a safe place and manner for its dwelling. Personally, I want neither apology nor removal of this poem. It has encouraged much, including this discussion. And that outcome seems the purpose of poetry. Brian