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Poetic Pussy Craft


A journal of a woman's empowerment through the journey of life
A compilation of rants, poetry, and other folly.
Subject matter is random and vast.
Your input is not necessary within, but welcomed if done with respect.
~ENJOY~


* All material except for some pictures within are now copyrighted as intellectual property including the name Pussy Craft*

Sunday Espresso Macchiato Vinyl
Posted:Jan 26, 2020 12:36 am
Last Updated:Mar 4, 2020 6:18 pm
6546 Views
It's another lazy Sunday, but not for those work through the night prepping the house for painting...ugh Oh. I will be lazy later for sure, when I should be up and about. But. a girl's got have fun sometime and I wasn't willing give that up. No way. Jose!

This week has been, well...I went on my first date and he was quite nice.and I felt giddy and beautiful for the first time in a long time. It's the first date since becoming a widow and it was calm, relaxed, and perfect. I am appreciative for meeting someone gave me the permission not feel guilty any longer for having desires that were no longer being met.

So today's Sunday Vinyl will reflect:

Wooden Ships - Animal Bag (best cover ever from friends of mine)
Jimi Thing - Dave Matthews
Gettin' Better - Tesla
A Change Will Do You Good - Sheryl Crow
Fool In The Rain - Led Zeppelin
Open Up Your Eyes - Tonic
Funk #49 - James Gang
Dixie Chicken - Little Feat
Hook - Blues Traveler
Groove Me - King Floyd
Solsbury Hill - Peter Gabriel
Every Picture Tells A Story - Faces
Some Kind of Wonderful - Joss Stone
Pink - Aerosmith (In honor of the new blog name)



Time for me to get back to those walls...
~ENJOY~
8 Comments
Come Whisper In My Ear
Posted:Jan 25, 2020 8:09 pm
Last Updated:Nov 21, 2023 9:06 pm
39182 Views
This is the space for all of you unable t.o post any messages as standard members messages are welcome. No one will see it but moi.
There is no judgement here except for the simple rule:
ALWAYS BE RESPECTFUL


(art above is me done by an old member here FlArtist 2007)

For those w.ho cannot read m.y profile as standard members,
Please see i.t in comments as I will post there
3 Comments , 22 Pending
Sadistic Manscaping
Posted:Jan 24, 2020 7:03 pm
Last Updated:Jun 18, 2023 4:27 pm
7108 Views
He sent a pic of himself standing before the mirror, naked. He was a magnificent specimen of manliness. He worked every day and it showed. Even at almost 50, he looked like he was honed as an athletic sculpture of trained muscles.But she noticed he had not manscaped his pubic area.



She sent the request gingerly: "Would you mind terribly to shave before we meet?"
He texted back that he would not mind and would do so immediately. She smiled and thanked him. She got ready for their date with anticipation....shaving her own body from armpits to ankles so her skin felt soft and supple.

She arrived, and after chatting for a time in this beautiful home he had built with his own hands, he kissed her and pulled her against his body. She had been waiting for this and her wetness churned and turned creamy between her full lips. He had shaven, as asked, and she sucked his balls and cock with wild abandon.

The next morning, he told her as they sipped their coffee, "You know you asked me to shave? Well I nicked myself several times doing it.It hurt like a bitch! We're not trimming anything else." he made it clear but playfully.
She burst into giggles, "Oh no...I'm so sorry. I think you should try a better razor maybe? And I will share with you some tips" She smiled and winked. Her mind went to the previous night, and her squirting onto him. She winced inside, thinking that must have hurt. And then her heart swelled at how adorable he was. He was sexy, fun, rugged, and human all at once.
Perfection...

“I had a dream about you last night. You set a timer on in the bathroom to prove how long it takes me to get ready. So I shaved your legs, made up your face and gave you lashes. An hour later you thanked God for not making you a woman.” Crystal Hudson, Dreaming is for lovers
11 Comments
Almost Famous Rocker Girl Style
Posted:Jan 22, 2020 4:26 am
Last Updated:Feb 15, 2024 6:30 pm
7145 Views

While cleaning out some boxes, a dusty old folder fell out of one of them. It had opened slightly, revealing some ripped out magazine pages as they spilled out onto the floor. Leaning down to pick them up, I realized this folder held the posters, pictures, and items previously plastered onto my walls. I couldn't resist the temptation of flipping through the past and letting myself be transported back in a time capsule.

"The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool." Lester Bangs

Looking through them, you would likely see me as the geeky little musician girl who appreciated all of the talent each one of these people had contributed for our listening pleasure. The hand drawn band logos on the folder were the first clue. This musical appreciation had been passed down for generations to me. My great grandfather was a ragtime piano player in speakeasies and my father had traipsed around New Orleans toting his oboe or clarinet to play them in jazzy bars littering Bourbon Street. So it runs deep in my bones, musical to the core.

I sang my way from the hearth of our fireplace for my stage and a hairbrush in my hand as a mic to chorus in school, and then bands through my twenties. I sang rock, country, jazz, blues....it didn't matter as long as I got to sing. Picking up guitar and piano along the way was a bonus and the only way I made it through Music Theory in college. The other bonus is the amazing talented people I have had the pleasure of crossing paths with or known intimately along the way.

“I always tell the girls never take it seriously. If you never take it seriously, you never get hurt. If you never get hurt, you always have fun. And if you ever get lonely, you can just go to the record store and visit your friends.” Penny Lane

People ask me why I don't sing now. Well in truth I became very disenchanted with the music industry. When everyone started getting a piece of the pie, I stopped believing in being what I had dreamed of on that fireplace hearth. And when a talent scout told me I had to change everything about the way I looked, I drew the line. Now, I am just an aficionado and to be honest, this viewpoint is a lot less stressful.

I sent the pics of my treasure trove to a friend of mine in LA working for a big label. He texted back with " I remember that girl" ...Yeah, I remember her too.
I typed, "Do you miss playing drums on stage?"
The text came back finally, "Are you kidding me? I was a fucking mess back then and so were you.Of course I wouldn't change it though, would you?"
"No....not a single minute." As soon as the words typed into my phone, I realized this folder was a gift to remind me how far I'd come and how rich my life is with memories.

Suddenly, I flashed back to being in a private dressing room trying on dresses for my late Master's funeral. I had taken his best mate's wife with me to approve of my American choices for a British funeral. The final choice was a classy timeless style and she remarked, "I'm so pleased with your choice, I didn't know if I had taken you to the right place or not because you have that kind of Rocker Girl style." Still get a chuckle out of that insightful comment.

"It's okay! I'm easy to forget! Just leave me behind! I'm only the fucking lead singer!" Jeff Bebe

The folder was laid in a pile to go out the door in the flurry of boxes to go to rubbish. Happily I moved on with my day and had a smile, because I like my roots , but even more so, I like where I am today. I won't however relent or forsake the 250 vinyl albums I've collected and being in a room full of them still makes me lose all touch with reality for a little while.

After all, famous rock stars and the scars of the past are just part of what makes me the Poetess infinitely
13 Comments
The Dance of the Fireflies
Posted:Jan 20, 2020 5:56 pm
Last Updated:Feb 7, 2024 6:50 pm
7594 Views
Ask me about my childhood in the summer of North Carolina, and I will tell you to walk to the edge of the woods with a choir of crickets chirping from every direction, a humid southern breeze brushing through your hair and over your bare feet. Stand there, very still, and watch the dance of ten thousand fireflies blinking on and off in the darkness. Inhale the scent of freshly plowed southern soil and honeysuckle. Now, stretch out on the ground and relax all your muscles. Watch nature's festival of flickering lights.


Every year in June, hundreds of thousands of fireflies come to the mountain top nights and light up the twilight landscape like twinkling stars. While watching them, you will begin to realize that they are lighting up in synchronicity. There is a pulsating rhythmic undulation to their madness. This is a certain type of synchronous firefly *(Photinus carolinus)* that graces our nights for two weeks out of the summer and only does so in two places in the whole world. They are doing their mating dance. Their magickal choreography comprises of the females landing on a surface and waiting for the males to light up their abdomens in unison before blinking their lanterns in response. There is something beautifully fatalistic in their desperation to find one another before their short lives end.

There's a Japanese legend that fireflies are actually the souls of the dead. Variations on the tale say that they're the spirits of warriors who fell in battle. There was a Victorian tradition that if a firefly got into your house, someone was going to die soon. Of course, the Victorians had lots of death superstitions, and practically turned mourning into an art form. However, beyond all the legends and tales, the scientific name for the compound that helps fireflies light up is *luciferin*, which comes from the Latin word *lucifer*, meaning light bearing. As with much lore, names become twisted by religious factions and that which was magickal takes a sinister turn.

For me, I would rather lie here at night and watch the fireflies dance without anything but appreciation for their courtship and the way they make my nights twinkle as if the stars in the sky have come down to mingle with me.
GO RIGHT NOW TO THE TOOB )That's UTube) and look up Firefly Experience
posted by Radim Schreiber

Take a break and enjoy.
15 Comments
Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself
Posted:Jan 20, 2020 11:40 am
Last Updated:Oct 26, 2023 8:56 am
7201 Views
"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear."
H.P. Lovecraft


We fear ourselves. We fear understanding who and what we are.
It is why so many of us go about life in a haze, we are afraid of what we already know.

We fear taking that next step, the step to find someone that will urge us to *see* ourselves. The step forward to explore ourselves, to see our very nature is terrifying to some.

We fear how far that someone will push us. How deeply they will drag us to the depths of our *soul* and down the rabbit hole to follow them.

We fear what we will do for them without a second thought. We fear what we will become, and what we are capable of being.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brillant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?"
Actually, who are you not to be?
Your playing small does not serve you or the world any good. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so others don't feel insecure around you.

Why would you submit to someone and allow them all of your trust implicitly?
Do you see there is any other way to submit? When I think of submitting, I do not see it as a half-ass kind of commitment. Either I trust, or I do not submit. That's not to say I am fearless. That would be a fraudulent claim to undertake and I don't anything in this area. I take it very seriously.However, I do not allow fear to stop me from making the leap of faith, because otherwise I have closed my mind off to the possibilities. Of course, the one who gets my trust will have laid foundations of actions, goes without saying.

Be here now.
If I trust with half of my beliefs, I cannot be present when the connections between us are made.
Trusting can open your mind but fear will surely close it.





15 Comments
Passing on the Pussy Craft
Posted:Jan 19, 2020 8:24 pm
Last Updated:Mar 25, 2023 12:00 am
6662 Views
"What is the Pussy Craft? Does it have to do with how every man has asked you to marry him? And why do they do that?" She queried looking perplexed
"It is sex magick and it runs in your blood from me. You have seen it in how men respond to you, haven't you?" I raised an eyebrow and kept driving
"You mean how every man seems to fall in love with me also?" She seemed to get it all at once.
"Yes, that's part of it." I nodded and smiled.
"Is it because we are passionate as well in bed?" She inquired with the nubile innocence of adulthood. She looked at me with the hungry need for knowledge that we seek from older, wiser sages. I swelled with pride that she recognized this magick she possessed without having to lead her there and was talking to me about it on top of everything. I would have never had this conversation with my own mother.

"That is another part of it, but no. I have given you the gift of being a chameleon when you need to be, a little girl with charm and innocence when you need to be, and a sultry bewitching vixen of immense proportions when you want to use it on top of intellect. You share it with whomever you are with, this incredible all-consuming love that shines from within you. It draws them in and they see themselves loving you before all else. It will also make you more in control than you ever imagined possible. Even though you don't have any malicious intent with your spell of sex , quite the contrary, your raw sexual energy - the Pussy Craft - will seduce him into your bed. And in the end, he will still love you even after you are gone, if you grow past him on your journey.." I looked at her before taking off from the stop light and could see the wheels in her head turning.






8 Comments
Sunday Morning Espresso Macchiato
Posted:Jan 19, 2020 3:49 am
Last Updated:Aug 5, 2022 9:53 am
6748 Views
Sundays are made for lazy mornings in bed until noon . Breakfast in bed, if you have a great submissive , and music with sex at some in the equation...or at least in my world. I don't love TV noise.

In addition, I am a former musician and current music fanatic, seriously. I should have been a contestant on " That Tune". I hate riding in a quiet car, or train, or anywhere without music. So I carry my own on my just in case. I have playlists for every occasion including Sunday Mornings. Just me and my writing this morning since I have no one to cuddle up to....But one of my favorite bloggers puts up her playlist so I thought I'd share in case you want the geeky girl musician version.


Don't mind me, I'll just be quietly typing away in the dusk morning light after making my bed and straightening up the girl tornado that tore through here last night - Enjoy

Sunday Music List
Carmel - Suzanne Vega
Ants Marching - Dave Matthews
Here and Now - Letters to Cleo
Cold Shot - Stevie Ray Vaughn (Live from Austin)
Sunday Girl - Blondie (French version)
I think I'm Paranoid - Garbage
Stolen Dance - Milky Chance
When I'm Small - Phantogram
Low - Lenny Kravitz
Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm- Crash Test Dummies
My City Was Gone - The Pretenders
No New Tale to Tell - Love & Rockets
Am I The One - Beth Hart Live in Amsterdam
Madman Across The Water - Elton John

That will get you going with a little Java in your system


"If I were not a physicist, I would probably be a musician. I often think in music. I live my daydreams in music. I see my life in terms of music.” ― Albert Einstein
13 Comments
Milky White Dreams
Posted:Jan 18, 2020 4:08 pm
Last Updated:Oct 31, 2023 5:04 am
6493 Views
He asked if I had breastfed before...
"Yes Sir, I breastfed the " I answered, knowing what was next but still anticipating it.
"Does it excite you think of your breasts bound and them squirting milk for me?" He asked in a low tone.
"Yes Sir". I almost purred the answer.
"Did you get sexually aroused while pumping?" He darted the question
"Yes Sir, it made me wet and tingly inside." I answered with a desire seeping into my voice
"Good " He purred into my ear as he tugged at my nipples, each in between his fingers pulling at them. I gasped and moaned knowingly what was come...







6 Comments
The Butcher's Bill
Posted:Jan 18, 2020 2:12 am
Last Updated:May 11, 2024 4:38 am
6676 Views
Once upon a time, I ran across an article posted on Bondage. It was reposted with some questions a submissive had on trusting again after leaving an abusive relationship.

I was once in an M/s relationship built upon lies and drama. It didn't end well as all relationships built on lies don't. We think that the lies will go away, or that we can make it all better and rationalize the outcome of the inevitable. After the apocalypse of first M/s relationship, I voraciously searched answers, and in search answers I found this writing. I sat and tears poured as I felt as if the writer speaking personally. I hope that sharing, someone will read it that needs hear it as much as I did.
Poetess
_______________________________________________________________________


**The Butcher's **
PhantDom
"What if someone has trust issues that go far and deep?"
In my past experiences, the trust issue has always been one of the most common -- and most difficult -- dynamics to grapple with. I think the reasons this is obvious-- submissives by their very nature seek to hand over control and autonomy, and in seeking that paradigm place themselves at the mercy of Dominants that may be inept, unlearned, incapable, or outright devious. And of course there are many Dominants that are honest, committed, learned, loving and dedicated.

The "Butcher's Bill "; is somewhat the equivalent of some ones baggage -- everyone has baggage, even one fresh out of a relationships brings some preconceptions and experiences. But the butcher's bill is slightly different from baggage in that they may ;"e;;pay for it;";, but the payer didn't enjoy the steak.

Since I'm a Dominant, my experiences with the butcher's bill is from that perspective, and I do not suppose the reverse is not true-- wherein a submissive pays the butcher's bill of the Doms'. This doesn't mean I am not liable to have my own butcher's bill , but let me state I do, and now I try to be conscious of it, and while I certainly have some baggage, I do my best never to let my girl pay for something that belongs to someone else. So since I can only speak cogently from that aspect, I will proceed from that perspective, appreciating any comments from the reverse side of the fence.
+
Here's an overview, generalized and fictional:
We have a submissive that was poorly treated in a previous relationship, or had a traumatic experience, or has never had anyone come up to the standard of trust she required to feel secure in exploring the relationship. In her history she's been taken to the cleaners , abused, threatened, and generally mishandled, maybe even criminally so. In many instances, the person in her next relationship has found her vulnerabilities, exploited them, and left her stranded in a turbulent ocean of mistrust, anger, and heartache.

In each instance, she herself has made some conscious choice to be with each person, so now her self-confidence is in tatters and her perception of her judging abilities is deeply in question.

This overview seems to me to be the common-denominator of trust fears in the Community. Right out of the gate it comes with it's own feedback loop that's hard to break-- the idea that an individual cannot escape the fact that they choose a person, the person seems to have all the qualities needed (or comes close), but then the old evil seeps and once again their heart lies gutted and pulsing on the bleak landscape's hearth. And so the person picks up their heart and tries again, now even more embittered than before, and now that higher level of bitterness or anger leads to a choice of a person seems to have all the qualities needed... etc.

The next plateau generally seems to be the requirement to have any trust that is proffered validated and tested time and time again. A simplistic example: "" last Dominant yelled at me, and i can't stand being yelled at."" And so the present Dominant takes this into consideration and even when angry, doesn't just yell. But the submissive -- admittedly has trust issues-- doesn't trust that he won't yell -- and so she tests the theory: Will he yell? What level do i have to go to prove it and refusal of trust is validated? Push push push push push-- finally, as a fallible human, he yells at her. And so her theory is ""validated"" -- , he'll yell. And her inability trust is once again ""proven"", and so she doesn't trust. This process easily multiplies itself across a variety of smaller trust-tests, and while none of them alone are the only cause themselves, it might be enough to deconstruct the relationship, enough of them put together does.

(Side note: One can/should expect 0% compliance on a hard limit, so let's not misunderstand this and reply, ""Well what about if she didn't want be attacked?"" There's degrees in all things, and in this overview of trust, the degree is clearly not behavior that is purposely devious or destructive, but more in that gray area of human strengths and weaknesses.)

Somewhere along the comes a Dominant is strong and honest, and willing guide her out of this maze, but there's this bundle of feedback loops they both must contend with. And it boils down this:
How to resolve this challenge of trust? Here are my thoughts on that 64k question:
First, no one is a mind reader. Intimate trust cannot be even attempted without communication, and if you're comfortable enough to speak with someone about any personal issues at all, then broaching the subject of why you do or do not trust is a must. But what if communication is the first roadblock, that whenever you do communicate, you feel you are being dismissed or ignored? There is no reason the Dominant can't bring up the subject him or her self. In fact, such conversations should be evoked early on in the proceedings, and given the proclivities towards power exchange; they should be de rigueur within the lifestyle. If one is not bringing it up, the other should.

Second, there's no law saying you must dive into the deepest, darkest part of the pool right out of the gate. It's perfectly legitimate to sit around the pool and watch for awhile, to talk to others 've been in that pool, and to take it slowly upon entering the pool. As one shows such patience, so too should patience be shown to that person.

Third, tomorrow's choice isn't yesterday's mistake. The problem with feedback loops is they are... well, they are feedback loops! They gain their power from the result they expel. There is only one way to end a feedback loop, and that's consciously decide to break it. Is there risk involved? Yes, of course there is! Might you get hurt again? Yes. It's possible you might get hurt again.
But ask yourself this-- aren't you getting hurt by not trusting and not risking anyway? If your trust issues are insurmountable (and I assert that they are insurmountable only by choice), then you've condemned yourself to that feedback loop, and a life of misery. The fact is, though it takes deep resolve and broad courage, you can choose to face your fears and conquer them. From Hamlet's soliloquy:
"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?"

To sum up, this morning I had a out-of-left-field thought about the doctor I had as a . He spoke with a thick Austrian accent, and he had faded blue numbers along his forearm. I asked him what those numbers were, and he smiled and told me it was his secret code for a club he belonged to. Years later, as an adult, I ran into him and we chatted. I reminded him of his comment and that led to his telling me about his experiences as a in a Nazi concentration camp. After hearing about the horrors he survived, if any person should never trust another human being, it was this man (and some million others like him). But he wasn't bitter. He turned his misfortunes into the medical profession; specializing in (he made house calls!). He was a good, loving, and jovial. How could someone saw such incredible evil, someone was beaten and numbered like cattle, someone who himself stood on platform outside a gas chamber and was spared because of some mechanical failure in the door mechanism" on that particular sunny spring morning, who watched his family be murdered one by one -- his mother, his father, sisters, and a brother-- all gone... how could this person ever trust any human being again? So I asked him that very question:
"I had to. Otherwise, the evil and the injustice would have won."

Butcher Bill paid in full...





4 Comments

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