him

i crave connection with your creamy forbidden skin. i watch you from across the room and my heart explodes with attraction. i tremble with anxiety as i mentally explore this unknown territory. do you think of me?...am i new for you? i wonder what you smell like, if your touch would feel different. your lips...whether they would enjoy mine. i would always say no to such a possibility, fearful of the challenge...lack of connection...absence of understanding. with you i feel no fear.

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman. ~Anaïs Nin

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our souls connected. instantly. he feels like home. like he understands my heart. his dreams had become mine. i envisioned holding his hand as he soared into the future. his laughter is like pure gold, melting dripping seductively encasing my insides. i could feel his hands on me. loving me from head to toe. -i love to love you baby-endeavering to heal old wounds. collecting his tears. how does one feel safe in the virgin experience of being held by you. where is your mind? where have your thoughts gone? your lips. sweet like warm syrup. brilliant as a vehicle for your soul to explode. i kept checking for you. hoping our eyes would meet from across the room. that i'd turn around to your yet unseen smile. that your strong arms would embrace my waist as you breathed me in. that your voice would be on the other end. that you were addicted to me. pursuing me. wanting me. needing me. blue balls of expectation. had to release on my own. again.

in recovery

like nicotine; i struggle with my addiction. i suck and puff and blow, only to be burned as the ashes drip between my thighs. you share your chromosomes like they are a prize. silence the day after yelling loudly in my heart. i try the patch, no substitute will do. i chew on another searching for satisfaction constantly reminded of the estatic euphoria that would exist between my lips. can i have another? i whore myself for more and more and more awakened to your backside moving to the horizon. you are my stick of desire, a glutton for you am i...and more and more and more always wanting. i smell you on another aroused by the fragrance of your funky fresh aroma and more and more i must have you nothing but death will separate. death of my soul it lies empty drained by the energy known as love and more and more i must still have more sucking on air that fills you on the inside lacking substance my mind begins to go conquered by toxins emitted i struggle with my addiction i struggle with my addiction i struggle with my addiction i struggle with my addiction

a.r.t.

there is something about an artist

they bleed creativity
i love to gaze into the eyes of an artist...boiling with unbirthed concepts
the way an artist walks is sexy
their hands, vehicles of the imagination
i've never met an artist that wasn't good in bed...the roll of his (or her) tongue
the use of his phallus as if it were a brush or pen
i'm talking about a true artist...one who is both aware and dedicated to the craft.
writers, painters, poets, sculptors, actors, etc...all artists.
all individuals with something on the inside that must be released to the outside world
verbosity exists through the masterpiece and speaks to the trained ear

what it is...

A revolutionary is what those who favor revolution, when they are most committed and most hopeful, try to embody daily. The modern world has so much compromise and craziness that this isn't easy, even if one sincerely seeks to accomplish it.

Revolution is a lifestyle and not a t-shirt. It isn't something that one turns on and off. It isn't something that one does part time, or periodically, at least not if one is a true revolutionary. You can aid revolution part time or periodically, for sure, and that's fine, I believe. But, beyond that, to actually become a revolutionary means that you always have as one very large component of how you look at things, of how you think about things, and especially of what you decide to do, trying to best contribute to revolution.

So, again, what is revolution?
Revolution is an accumulation of victories won by aroused populations leading to fundamental changes in defining social relations, and it is those achieved changes too, and it is also the process of designing the new relations, and of implementing them, and it is, as well, the process of populations becoming aroused, becoming informed, becoming organized along the way.

Revolution ends old epochs and begins new ones.

Revolution can replace poverty with equity, derision with respect, anti-social egoism with solidarity, alienation with community, authoritarianism with self management, homogenization with diversity, patriarchy with feminism, racism with intercommunalism, and the economics of greed and competition with the economics of mutual aid and cooperation.

Revolution is a way of life that people can sensibly adopt if they care about themselves, their families, their friends, their neighbors, their local fellow citizens, and people all over the world.
Revolution is what is on the revolutionary's agenda. It is, indeed, the heart and soul of the revolutionary's agenda. It is what we need in the modern world, for liberty, and dare i say for survival.

sex

it serves so many different purposes. i am fascinated by the primal desire within us all to partake in a little action. i love talking about sex, and wish that the topic wasn't so taboo. sometimes when i look at a stranger, i wonder when they last had an experience. i wonder who their lover was, and whether they enjoyed themselves. when starting a new relationship, i sometimes believe that the other persons ability to talk about sex outweighs their actual ability to perform. performance can be worked on...but a mindset...that can be difficult to change. i would love to do an anthology discussing people's best and worst sexual experiences.

rich white man wins nobel peace prize

last year, i created a mock speech for a class. i was the winner of the nobel peace prize for helping to restore justice to marginalized populations; specifically the lgbt community. i was awarded this prize for tangible results in improving the lives of people that our society views as second class citizens. i...a radical black woman whose life is dedicated to social justice and the resistance to oppression. women, children, people of color, queer people, fat people, poor people...all of them were experiencing an enhanced existence b/c of the work that me and my commrades were committed to doing. i ended my speech with a quote from Audre Lorde:

"I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood. "

i don't suppose that i'm hating on al gore, environmental work is important and we should all strive to take better care of our earth. if i were asked to name one thing that mr. gore had done for me, i don't know that i would be able to answer. he doesn't inspire me...i would rush to hear him speak...i have no desire to read anything he has written.

it perplexing that we honor humans for doing things that are essentially the right thing to do. i hope that he doesn't run for president.

cunt cuntry

(A Declaration of Independence ©2001 Alix Olson.) I’ve decided to start Cunt Cuntry!Write our own CunstitutionLet our liberated clit bells ring out:The Cunts are coming: It’s the Cunt Revolution!I’d cut through my panties, I’d shake my pube hair loose,I’d sign my Jane HanCunt in cursive with Cunt juice.I’d declare the Independence of Clitoris to Shining Clitoris,Proclaim the Emancipation of all Cunts-- and tell Dicks this:You’re being drafted for the Big Solution: Stand Erect, Be Proud,You’re part of the Cunt Revolution!Defending our slick, silky, vaginal turfFor all cunted creatures, created or by birth.And they’d wear buttons with fists raised, that say:Patriarchy! I survived! Now this Dick’s fighting the Good Fight forVaginal Pride!And kids in school would learn the Her-story Of the Boston Tea-ch Party,When Cunt-Liberators tossed Cunt-Traitors into the sea,Finally felt what it meant to be free. And they’d learn how color complicated the win,How White Cunted Creatures had to sacrifice Privilege,Re-focus Vision for a Real Revolution to happen.And kids would have weekly field tripsTo the Museum of Un-Natural His-Story With display glass jars of rapist dicks in all their shriveled glory.And Behind velvet rope, ancient relics of the past, like:Female Guilt, Circumcision knives, Certificates turning whole people into Wives.And there’d be torture chamber exhibits with tall, skinny heelsInviting little girls to: Try this, and see how this feels—Cunted Creatures wore these to work or to anywhere formal:This Pain was called Sexy. This process was called Normal!And there’d be old collections of posters like:Keep Abortion Legal- with a plaque:Not much is known. But these come from an era whenInsecure Ruling Dickheads thought of Bodies as something to own.We’d pledge allegiance to P-Flag With stars like you-- and crooked stripes!We’d carry passports made from a giant Cunt MoldIn all pubic colors: Gray, Auburn, Ebony, Gold.We’d ban all commercials of:Are you not so fresh?Is your vag repulsive? Do you stink like fish?And instead, we’d conduct a Cunt Taste-Testing Session,Get used to the smells of Blood, Yeast, and the Ocean.And Hothead Paison would lead Alison Bechdel’s Dykes:Watch out for the Cunt Cuntry Army on Bikes!There’d be an Esteemed Office called "National Astrologist"And Cunt Commander in Chief would be… a Gynecologist.And Michael Moore would be Vice-Pres…Cause the Cunt Cuntry Court of Legality says:Possessing a Cunt matters less than possessing the Cunt Mentality.And daughters would laugh at old-fashioned terms likeVirgin and Bitch and WhoreAs they checked out the newest inventory of vibrators Sold at the corner store.Because daughters would be freer and dykes would be Freer and dicks would be freerIf we stood up and sang:My Cunt tis of TheeMy Cunt tis of TheeBecause Cunt is the latin root of Kin and CountryBut see, somehow some of our countrymen forgot they had Sisters, decided to treat us as unwelcome visitors,Made it hard to have a cunt in this country.Made it hard to have a cunt in this country.So, we are starting Cunt Cuntry.Not out of rebellion, Or unexamined sisterhood,Or some sort of Seventies Separatist Revival.We are starting Cunt LandFor that which it will stand:One Nation Under Survival

12/30/06-the murder of sadaam hussein

....so we kill him. who decides whether one should continue to live or die?
homelessnesspovertydomesticviolencesexismracismheterosexismclas sismlackofaccesstomedicalcareabuseabusabuse.....all crimes against humanity...who shall be executed next?
the only good that maybe has come from this new murder...perhaps whatever tormented his soul has now been put to rest. i loathe the hypocrisy that rules this world

what i really want...

i desire a love that transcends definition....that is understood by us. a love in which growth is not only expected, but encouraged and supported as well. a love where silence is okay...preferred at times. a love in which self is not lost, rather enhance by our connection...love that does not intentionally hurt, however, is prepared to do the healing work when such a misfortune occurs...feel good love...love that is in constant motion...an action word rather than a mere word spoken superficially

my muse (written 2006)

In my mind we are making love….in my heart we are in love….in my pulsating home of desire there is love. Counting the moments until you again are mine….it is because of you that my creativity is aroused…your brilliance sends vibrations through my soul…touch me…feel me…want me….as I do you.

in the beginning (cont'd)

...sharing insides connecting ways, power to the people we sang creativity flowing meshing blending illuminating of souls inspiration of the minds. Burdened by the world laden with inequality woke from illusions I feel safe with you as if I could hand you my heart and you wouldn’t let it go. It would be protected, held close to you.

in the beginning...

...i hate this part...there is an uneasy calm that I don’t trust my heart to embrace. I am full of passion, I want to hear your voice listen to your soul, touch your skin, smell your scent, taste your lips. I am turned on by your voice, the brilliance of your mind penetrates deeply, causing waves. Your eyes, I must gaze into them I want to walk by your side, hold your hand…black man I want to love you, nourish your soul, feed you when you’re hungry, quench your thirst, tickle your fancy, lift you up when you’re down. I crave you black man, to feel you on the inside of me…to wrap my legs around you, to pull you closer, tighter. The color I feel is red, passionate fiery, hot, too much…makes me feel sexy, in heat. I want to fuck you. I want to touch you, connect our minds crawl deep inside of yours I feel alive and energized. Your are my source black man your delicate and creative strength…you are very necessary

promiscuity?

Like a flower my sacred feminine opens up to you. Sacred only to i. if you break you must buy cheap unable to purchase uneducated in value. You don’t even know of your own. Black love where has it gone? driven by dicks pursuing chicks believing their sticks will hold you up.

So what’s up for tonight?

anonymous casual intercourse
anonymous casual intercourse
anonymous casual intercourse
anonymous casual intercourse

I like it slow.
I like to be kissed right here.
Lets talk about the world and our place in it. Casual laid back…
why does this feel so hard.
Why can’t you look me in my eyes. I feel your heart beating…for whom does it beat?
Deep on the inside, for whom do you live? Yeah baby like that…you turn me around so our souls must never connect you’d rather look into my ass, as if this is where my secrets lie. you communicate that I am the passing thing, a cheap thrill…sacred only to i. hold on to yourself black man! Stop giving you away…that conquest nothing more than another dumping zone for your soul. Give it away give it away give it away now give it away give it away give it away now…

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you can see me but do you recognize me?
you can touch me but can you feel me?
you can listen but do you hear?
you can kiss me, you can rub me, you can fuck me…but can you really get inside?
deep, deep inside…into the waters. Can you swim? Who will save you?
You’re floundering…maybe you shouldn’t have jumped