Scented Sutra

The Scented Sutra: 14-18

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ON THE CLEANING OF THE MEMBER

In sapience, ye men & boys, my friends,
Few I’ve known, the rest of you will know me
As a poet of the sacred muses,
Voluptuous they are, as all women
Are under clothes, revealing the divine
With bodies like temples, where we’ll worship
The spirits of our sexual desires,
The naked ceremonies are at hand!
The faunicating fortitrice must fall!
O God! let me see her led back, uncloth’d,
& I shall do your sacred work down there!
But as fresh meadows ply soft brooks along
Inspiring sorts to walk along the sedge
& breathe the meadow’s soft, scintillant air,
First clean thy lingam, wash it from the base
Along the shaft up to the precious tip,
The part of you that deepest penetrates
The holy, purple wells of womankind,
Of orifices one’s got tongue to taste
Could you eat curry with a dirty spoon,
Course not! maintaining pristine penises
The only obligation of Mankind
Women assess men quickly by their shoes,
But truly know him by her licking lips
Sucking on his lingam lollipop
This will be you, so cleanse thyself & shine
Becoming of her happiest priestess!


ON A WOMAN’S EXCITEMENT AT SEEING THE LINGAM

The fiercest hankering of a woman
Is that for members when she’s full on heat
To see one rising underneath thy robes
Will make her lose her senses, when reveal’d
The joy on seeing the beautiful dart
Stood throbbingly erect shall make her swoon,
Astonish’d at its size, action-ready,
Firm & stongly promising love’s violence,
The noble column of his thighs implants
A yearnful force to give herself to him
Pleasure-desperate in her deepest parts
Where moisture flows, forerunning for passion,
When all the animation leaves her face
Unconscious seeming but for gasps & groans!
A virile member shall please women best,
When stretch’d the length of eight fingers at least,
A man whose member’s of less dimensions
Cannot fully please, while horses’ lingams
Too clumsy in the yoni – rub thy bead
Against her vulva’s lips, & watch them part
& seem to say, ‘O member, enter me,
Please penetrate my plump deliciousness,
I want it done in all the precious ways
In splendid action, first from front to back,
Then right to left; now surely, soft & slow
Now ramm’d in hard by vigorous pressure,’
Such are the thrills that fill her horny mind!


ON THE MEETING OF LINGAM & YONI

The member of a man doth swell in size
Three animals to form; bull, hare & horse,
A woman’s yoni mirrors such wildlife,
According to her depth; deer, mare, elephant
With these three equal unions can form
& so there’s six unequal unions,
Distincted by two kinds, the high, the low,
Tis high if man exceedeth her in size
& highest if her size the most remote
Likewise tis low if woman exceedeth
& lowest if she elephant, him hare;
There are, then, nine genres of union
According to dimensions of lovers
When highest, lowest, matches the worst;
Now forces invisible join lovers,
Magnetic pulls of passion & desire,
These form three species; small, middling, intense;
Tis better to enjoy the carnal act
With one who shares your sexual vigour;
& finally three kinds of men and women
Divided by the volcanic timing
Erupting into climax; some short-timed
Some tim’d moderately, and some long-timed;
In all seven hundred & twenty-nine
Kinds of lovers, of these just eighty-one
Match timing, size, & passion, ensuring
Delectable unions of lovers!


ON A WOMAN’S LOVE OF COITION

Listen, men, of woman in fruition,
Coition-thirst is written in her eyes,
When free of worry, or if seeking respite
From life’s tormenting vigours, stress & strains
A woman’s mind resides between her thighs
As does her pleasure when vulva given
To men she loves, fine speech, nor great riches
Of other men can ever prise her lock,
But if no man has earn’d her gorgeous love,
Then she shall cast her gazes to the winds
Of chance & karmic fortunes, when she spies
A man that she could love, her lust enslaved
& lays a trap & if her prey is snar’d
& to her bed escorted, has her love,
(You’ll know it, son, the moment that you’ll sense
The coming together of hemispheres
When faces change to souls in gazing orbs),
For knowing that a man desires her depths
Reinforces attractiveness, emotions
Gratified – there’s comfort in desire –
For when her genitalia’s arous’d,
Ceremonies of the vulva temple
Can begin, bright Heaven is awaiting,
The man high priest, each thrust a light divine,
O laser sensualities of love!
Such is, such was, such will be, woman’s want.


THE SYMPHONY OF LOVE

A woman is an instrument to play
But first she must be tuned to perfection,
All in thy foreplay passion-palace prior
To mastering her body’s rhapsody,
You will know when she is ready to sing
Her actions will demand as much when, friend,
To satisfy love best, the French bassoon
Craves the freshest slice of elephant grass,
While violas love quality catgut,
So lovers must optimize performance
Well-rested, unspent men are like fresh strings
Zinging into crispness, when songs begin
The virtuoso harmonizes parts
The maestro turns her on to fertile modes
& nature sings its unique melodies
To the clapping slap of timpani thighs,
When moaning is a universal truth
While exclamations to divinity
Occur during the accelerato
As lovemaking fills the silent spaces,
Dirty talk enlivens lustral fucking,
Her squeaks are like the breaking of the day
Her breathing pants a beat, & when she screams
The operatic denouement is near
Finales set for flourishing fanfares
She rising to her sweetest soprano
& divas love ovating curtain calls.

The Scented Sutra: 10-13

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ON THE NATURE OF COITION

Men! first of all appreciate fully
The gift your woman gives you, every day
How many men have phantasized briefly
Of her body’s branches blending with theirs
But don’t get jealous, son, only for thee
Strips she with devotion, so grateful be
When sharing the most intimate moments
A woman shall experience… enjoy…
Then later on enact in lucid dreams,
Recalling cohabitating pleasures
That made her feel her happiest, enthron’d
Upon crowning ridges of coition!
In this we differ from the animals
Felicity found in fecundity,
The goal of all of this, of course, my friend,
Is sexual contentment, listen well!
The lovers’ tryst shall satisfy desires
In this try different ways to unite,
Striving to ascertain the position
Which gives the greatest copulative joy,
Which sends forth the liveliest sensations
Thro’ vulvan heat, sweet fragrance & moisture,
But if bad vaginal exhalations
Detract distractingly from performance
You’ll fathom that while some couples connect,
Others will repel, each fresh intercourse
Compels studies in this Scented Sutra.


ON THE THREE ACTIONS

Come kisses, sweet enjoyment & embrace
When lingam presses thro’ the flower bed
To the fertile, lightless cradle of life
Congress having commenced, passion alone
Gives birth to all the acts of the parties
Blind with passion, impetuosity
Paying not the least regard to excess,
Energizes actions and amorous
Gesticulations on the moment’s spur
Undefinable & random as dreams,
But order’d by the cosmic trinity,
When pleasure is enacted in three ways
The first is when the man is the actor
& the woman acted on, the second
Sees the role reversal, she now acting
With him now acted on, with each of these
There is no difference in felt pleasure
Both are conscious of being united,
The third way is the action of the Rams
Some liken to a Spartan boxing bout,
Yet others to dueling Bojutso
When both are acted & are acted on
From this third conformation of action
Women & men experience the same
Sensation, of vigorous energy
Multiplied & flooding carnal chambers
Battlebreaths laced with yelps of ecstasy!


ON MEN & WOMEN

With all my sincerities eglantine
I’ll sing this Scented Sutra to the world,
But being no chronicle of conquest
Lets buzz about like bees among petals,
This is, methinks, a tidy metaphor
For how we men & women interact
She prettified & fragrant in the blooms
He half-mad driven by his honey’d thirst
For these young bees, permit me, as pilot,
I’ll guide thy flight about the flowerbeds
Imagine the planet as a garden,
As once it was before even Eden
Was lost, scent floating gracefully on air
From blossoms all gorgeous, these are women,
While men ye’ll be these nectar-supping bees
Which flit among the inflorescent hues
Tho some act more like weeds – while hornet barbs
Need firm reproach, not everyone enjoys
The natural dress of humanity –
So lines are drawn – love’s a kind of warfare,
Cowards dismiss’d, heroes take up thine arms
There are no slackers guarding this standard
Long winter nights, rough roads, cruel sorrows,
All kinds of labours torture love’s campaigns,
But she’ll be glad knowing you’ve bore the risks
This is the surest proof of devotion
When thus the loss of caution must comply!


ON THE DESTINY OF THE VULVA

The great question, ‘what does a woman want?
Can answer’d be with moist simplicity
Tis by the pulse of a deep, stiff phallus
Piercing a vulva swollen by foreplay
Penetrating honeysuckle centers
Where fire burns, when she is reclining
There seems a creature peering from her thighs
Thinking & winking with a single eye
Reading names inscrib’d upon her vulva,
Of those allow’d to enter, right or wrong,
For man are bracketed with simple ease
Inside a woman’s psyche, some could fuck,
The rest dismiss’d down the sinks of instinct!
Lock’d & barr’d forever, tho’ offering
The universe & all it might contain,
If Cupid hasn’t stamp’d a man’s passport
He’ll never reach her exaltating lands
That faerie wood where flows a sacred spring
Beneath a limestone grotto, birdsong sweet
Resounding, while exploring floral glades,
She’ll show herself, a maiden in the trees,
Then take her, creativity & flair
Engorging every moment’s exhortion,
Til all four limbs floor’d heavy, exhausted,
Vulvas tasting sweet or bitter flavors
Know now if love was given bad or good
So bury memories or yearn for more!

The Scented Sutra: 6-9

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WOMAN’S PERCEPTION OF MEN

In woman’s eyes a man should be himself
Above all else, unless he is a prick,
First, Dionysis, lose thy vanity,
Only the lady should a goddess be,
Toss arrogance & overconfidence
In pits of undesirabilities
Along with lies, insensitivities,
Broken promises, wayward lustfulness,
Hard-mouth’d bullying, rules heavy-handed
Rough selfishness, pig-headedness & pride!
If nothing of all this relates to thee
Then favour’d be in the eyes of women;
Especially if anxious to please them,
Adding generosity, speech sincere,
Sensitivity, to his promise slave,
Vanity-lacking, loyal & virile,
A bird in manner, but in his strength beast,
Wealth, cultivation, intelligence, fame,
Creativity, exclusivity,
Cultivating noble arts & language,
The scented essence of manhood all these,
But even when in powerful phalanx
Proud & superb with all these traits combin’d
Men meeken like the lamb before lions
If je ne sais quoi, the strange factor X
Which passes special between two people
Not present, for without it what is love?


ON THE LUST OF MEN

Women need reasons, men just need a place,
Risen to ambition in coition
If a member is without a vulva
His frighten’d heart stokes fires unquenchable,
& even coolest seasons boiling hot,
To spend a single minute of pleasure
He’d travel many days by caravan
To scratch the itch for illicit affairs,
He’d trade a handsome thousand-guinea steed,
O women of the world, if you have found
Such a man, admire his member’s beauty,
Unsupple in the regions ‘tween thy thighs,
Deep-delving with a desperate hunger
For fluids of effluent transference
With lustful men one time might not suffice
He’ll crave your body ‘til him satisfied
When only strength exhausted ends the urge,
So, women, when a lustful man is yours,
When tribute comes from the Kingdom of Pan,
Like the one that brings drink to the thirsty;
Let his famish’d eyes feast on thy bosom,
Thy derriere, naked neck, rockpool eyes
Under crescent brows graceful as the moon,
Do not withhold your joys, nor bashful be
God’s will it is that men should passion feel
When acting on felicitous consent,
Lovemaking is akin to Paradise!


THE GENTLEMAN’S ART OF GOOD WOOING

Children of Cupid note down thy name;
Best you believe all women may be won,
Wear rose-fashion’d clothes like men of milieu,
Be of your hair aware & trim thy chin,
Say her face is fair, her eyes are like skies,
Blood warm’d by wine fair spirits flame & flow,
Lust multiplies with each draught that we drink,
Speak & with speed, for Venus loves the brave,
Til comes the kiss & if passion express’d
There’ll be but little rusing for the rest…
A well-timed kiss-surprise can paralyze
Kisses! these easy messengers of love,
Kisses! these pearl thermometers of love
Kisses! Love’s celebrated overture
Beyond the goo & mess of lipstick gloss,
Sensating, somewhat, like a trifle dip
A million nerve fibers congregate
Upon her lips; when sensualities
Erupt they swirl like whirlpools of pleasure!
A seismic kiss can shock waves send thro’ souls
Passionate, vigorous, gentle, tender,
All pressures have their points, all wonderful,
Nip her soft lips with gentle tugs of teeth
Then slip your teasing tongue within her cave,
This simulates another pair of lips
Now nuzzling her neck­line with thrilling caress
Soon comes her bloom’s plucking… her petals’ undress.


ON COUPLING

For love, thou madness of a living hell!
I’ll woo across the world to find once more,
As you should too, dear reader, else deny
The happiness of sharing your science
With other banners of anatomy –
Like snowflakes couples never act the same
Each set of combinations quite unique
Tho’ patterns run in seams, behold the key
Togetherness transfix’d by chemistry!
When ready then for the hot rites of love
If steady in mutual affections,
What strange, erotic mystery attends
Impetuous desires, voluptuous
Adventures of the flesh, which underpins
Enigmatical human attraction
Could it be our Neanderthal genepool,
For women brave risk-takers still prefer –
Lurking in dangerous, ancestral pasts
Predators & rapists roam savannah –
Today she’ll desires the loveable rogue
Before gentle kindnesses of nice guys
A blend of both, however, shall combine
Our ancient lives with modern sympathies –
Be sensitive & kind in general
But macho in emergencies, from these
In no time you’ll find a polish’d lover,
& sex, my word, the best you’ve ever had!

The Scented Sutra: 1-5

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Serialising the second part of

‘Seeing Sally Cinnamon & the Scented Sutra


FIRST KISS

Left smitten at the Gates of Paradise
Languishing eyes connect two trembling souls!
Whose lives have led entirely to this point
Where nimble tongues love’s lesser lightnings play
Twyx fleshy lip cushions lushly pushing,
Men of Planet Earth! Kissing’s passion-pact
Deem quite impossible to engineer
Unexpectedly, but only sooner
Than she thought you would! Opening broadsides
To strip away her carnal defences,
Tear down mainsails, rigging rip clean away!
So let first kisses strike, lest watch the barge
Escape your mooring, fled for safe waters –
Yes, everything depends upon the kiss,
‘Let’s consummate mutual attraction,’
Exchang’d betwyx two psyches in silence,
Compatibilities truly tested !
Did you hear a symphony of rivers?
Harmonious angels play harpsichords?
Or more some slab-corpse groaning in a morgue?
But if all flourish’d well, when urgent words
Unspoken flow ‘tween vulva & member,
Moistening marrows, lead her by the hand
To the bowers of the Perfumed Garden,
But don’t forget my Scented Sutra, son!
Secrete it secretly among thy things
To study in between her ravishments!


TO MY READERS

Please, connoisseurs, forgive me if I’ve err’d
Relaying only how I feel it feels
For me when I am thoroughly entwin’d
With certain women, embedded in bliss
Ready to recite, regale &… rejoin!
Friends, if you sense there’s something in my veins
No longer hide your innermost desires
Do not wallow in the grief of great love,
Or rest on laurels if thy love is great –
The greatest lovers always woo their wives –
Nor let stratospheric standards ruin
The chance to consummate thine existence,
Study this little treatise & evolve!
Perhaps you are the sycophantic type
Who never get a likeness from their sons
Or him once rich who found himself in love
& now is poor, could not prevent the flight
Of fault-finding cuckoos unsatisfied,
This books for you – in the French salons
I’m preferred to Baudelaire & Shakespeare –
From bedsides never very far away,
Pages spread over dimples of soft sheets,
Scrutinized by sentiment & metre
For when one studies the Scented Sutra
Omnisusceptible moralities
Once spotless, turn hornily priapic!


THE GOLDEN GOAL

Cupid, here they are, thy latest victims,
Hearts skewer’d by hot shafts of rising blood
Observing womankind’s fair fineries!
Young girls have looks, but ladies have technique,
Some by the country forg’d, some by the town,
Some into riches born & some renown,
Some orphan’d by their miseries, all these
Identical when naked on their knees !
Some Filipino, some Ugandan black,
Some twinkle in Tahiti, some Iraq,
Unpredictable lucky dips, each snare
A pepperpot of volatility
That could find any bay twyx love & war
But what is sleep but cold death’s reflection
Volatile time slips past us unaware,
Empty houses rot to dereliction,
A lovely shirt needs wearing, & a lack
Of exercise withers strength & beauty,
Take a lover, run a string, take your pick,
A wolf that raids the flock will eat the best,
Virility feeds on sex, by practice
Boosted, with perseverance unswerving
Adventure the veering winds of desire
Plunging spurs into galloping horses
Until you’ve found a lover who’s found you,
Delighting in each other to explore
More corners of this Garden of Delights!


TO THOSE NOT YET ADEPT AT MAKING LOVE

All men have parts, but what force fires those parts
Is all that counts, if life is merciful,
You’ll happen on my verses not too late!
If you are one of those dull, thuggish lovers
Whom vigour lacks unbounceless in the bout
Who lays himself silent on his woman
Joyless, without no previous toying
Who does not tickle, suck her lips, nor bite
Who gets inside her long before the time
She’s heady with the pressures of desire
Scarcely commenced you’re already done for;
Sunk on a woman’s chest ensplurging sperm;
This done, withdraw ye swift from the affair,
& in all haste depart with half-a-smile,
Then listen to my words & mark them well
Let Scented Sutra be thy salvation!
Let us find your meritorious man
Having erections ready at the glance
Of love & lust a woman might invite,
Whose member grows strong, vigorous & hard;
Furnishing a long drawn-out enjoyment,
Until explodes her climax, your prowess
The source – then resting not from ecstasy
Following trembling emissions of sperm,
Stand stiff again to ply the vulva’s plane;
Such are the men whom women’s pleasures paint
Masters of sexuality supreme!


ON LOVING WOMEN

Lotus lips murmur, kisses drive me wild
Passionate eyes bringing delirium
O bolt of lightning in a woman’s form!
Her beauty comforts me with sinful thoughts
She the depressive actress-poet, she
Of perfect breasts that banish me from sleep,
Crystals of elaborate persuasions!
Immeasurably my superior;
Her greater intuition, endurance,
Morality, self-sacrifice, courage,
Reflects Humanity’s noblest aspects
I love the way she’ll think a hundred things
At once, & contradictory each one,
I love her power, grace and perfection,
Proficiency in poetry & song
Teeth like the pips of a pomegranate
Emitting pleasant fragrance, & her flesh,
Fresh butter mellow, all her gifts, her charms,
Untreacherous, & with no faults to hide
In love-sports playful, polish’d in love’s arts
Ever agreeable to our desires
& always awaiting with excitement
The moment I’m returning with a smile
Reflected in her playful, lustful eyes
That make me feel just wanted, & in love!
Bestowing every kind of happiness
As such as she are cherished by all men!