// art & sex //


my sex in your mouth like
summer melting glass over steel city buildings
but i know better
that all we ever truly seek
to erect is
that the only real stimulation
is a taste of the torture of desire inside
a mind that finds its own reflection beautiful
in the awe struck through it by
wondering at the strangeness of
twisted creature as
mad as
the glory of art,
the hunger of passion,
the fall and rise of the crave to give and receive pleasure,
is ultimately a swimming out
toward fear
in the heavy hopes of
getting beyond it to a
place of peace.
you before me with your face
and your tears in my
we seek to know how to save
ourselves, how to release ourselves of
something we must break free of, some flawed way of thinking or being from which we
seek absolution.
we want to know, ultimately, intimately, in raw human form,
the gripping power of our own
divine mystery.
we want to be one with the Self beyond the self,
the Self that is free of these bodies we
obsess over, these alien bodies with their demented burning needs and their curious imperfections.
art and sex are creative
acts of faith, acts of defiance,
little spinning feathers of death.
the blood and sweat,
the pulse of this life,
the advancing pursuit of

~ Allison Marie Conway ~


My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

16 thoughts on “// art & sex //

  1. Pingback: Art and Sex by Allison Marie Conway | Mr. Modigliani's Private Studio

  2. Pierre

    I bless these bodies in their demented burning needs and curious imperfections. I am at home in this body that quivers to the rhythm of need and desire, I kiss it, bless it, and accept it. The Greeks once called upon Eros to banish evil from the heart; in Tantra sexual ecstasy is the very stuff of enlightenment. Let desire in acceptance roar. At the other side of the green field abounding in red poppies we find our expression changed, the sexual energy mastered and channelled differently.

    “Tantra is a path that uses passion as a basis for self-transformation through ecstatic beatitude.”
    — Miranda Shaw, Passionate Enlightenment

    Your intimate depths and intuitions seep out beautifully…

  3. Pierre

    I bless “these alien bodies with their demented burning needs and their curious imperfections.” I am at home in the rhythm of my desires and needs, as the sky gives blessing to the clouds, and the ocean to the waves. Let them roar and come and go, the sky will be the sky, the sea the sea. This acceptance, this radical and all embracing acceptance transforms the energy of sex and its expression. It is no longer degrading but uplifting. No longer guilty and shameful but a celebration of life and the magnificence of life, and death. On the other side of this field of red poppies we find ourselves the same, transformed, yet radically the same. Ah, the sweet perplexity! The Greeks called upon Eros to banish evil from the heart. And “Tantra is a path that uses passion as a basis for self-transformation through ecstatic beatitude. (Miranda Shaw, Passionate Enlightenment)”

    Your intimate depths and intuitions seep out beautifully…

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Your words are prayers, Pierre, I feel the holy energy in every one. I am without words enough to thank you for what you share, please know I’ve read and re-read your comments because they truly echo what I believe in truth, in light, in healing, in love, death and rebirth. How beautifully you express it all.

      To the “sweet perplexity” and “ecstatic beatitude”…. may more of this cruel world come back home to itself in true self-love, devotion, transcendence and worship.

      Much love, my friend.

  4. Rajagopal

    I love the way you weave imagery from love and passion. The poem reminds me of the story of a monk. There was an old woman in China who extended hospitality to the poor monk by making a hut for him to sit in meditation. The monk meditated for twenty long years during which the old woman took care of him. After twenty years, the lady decided to test him. There was a young girl, a relative of the old lady who came visiting. The old woman send the young girl to the monk with instruction to arouse him. The girl, as instructed, went and caressed the monk and asked him ‘what now?’ To which the monk responded poetically, ‘an old tree grows on a cold rock in winter, nowhere is there any warmth’. The girl returned to the old lady and narrated what happened. The old woman felt insulted and burst into a rage at the cold treatment meted out to her relative. She strongly felt that even if the monk could not show any passion, he should have been compassionate in his response to the girl. Her anger was so intense that she rushed to the hut and set fire to it, killing the monk and reducing the dwelling to ashes. While dying, the monk explained his situation stating that he had reached a stage of desirelessness. Passion and compassion go together. One cannot exist without the other. One can be compassionate only by being passionate. . It is the same with sex in tantra. One attains enlightenment in tantra by sublimating the sexual energy. The other path to enlightenment is through attaining a stage of desirelessness, like the monk in the story. Best wishes to you dear Allison…

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Dearest Raj, I love your comments because you always bring your soul, kindness, and wisdom. Thank you so much for this story – it resonates deeply with me. I am exploring many expansive things in my creative, sensual and spiritual life. As I trust in the process, I am so grateful for lights like yours along the way. Sending you peace, love and every warm thing, my friend…

  5. DeanJean

    Fantastic poem on carnal desire and passion, wreathed together so tightly that one cannot survive without the other. As I read the words burn, smoulder and leave the embers glowing in my mind.

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Dear DeanJean,

      I adore your comment, thank you so deeply and much for letting me know how this one felt for you. It means the world to me to know this touched you.

      Much love, Allison


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