Hmmm...I am Native American and I make Peace Pipes,
DreamCatchers, Mandellas,
Native American Loom Beading(jewlery) ect.

Videos by DaveDoom51

Guess alot depends on what kind a mood I am in at the time.

“WE”

Endless, we begin.

We are nothing but serenaded bodies
in anticipation of the slow motion, reiterating the length
of our kiss; a memory of how elegant two breaths
of souls...
tasting... the other…
Before we ever knew the other.
How elegant two breaths of something unspoken can seem.
And you dress me so gently,
like a limpid ragdoll, all cotton
and flesh, cried out over and over, voiced over
your heart like an opera, and I am rapt.
Taken higher as I openly shed tears,
moist velvet, my back against your stomach
and I feel lit like a torch from the inside
of your eyes because you see
where I have become the ruination,
a rumination restored
and reverberating the sight of you;
where the sacrament of what we create builds
sanctuaries; soft spirits, ethereal…
and winds wept just like where we used to live.
I saw us as then.
and now. ..
endless, we.
Fallen angels shout about our lifelines
entangled and seraphim stained; clouds, as they drift
away, remind us that the plummet pulled
our palms apart.
the profane parched earth drank us dry
and we somehow found a riverbed of flowers
dandelions, tiger lilies, and bear paws
to soften every seed spilled.
you were inside me that day;
the last day…
the every day.
and i remember your hands ascending spines,
bestowing breasts a prayer, and flowing freely
over my stoned body, your temple…
my god.
the ancient sound of us is such the same.
the way you break within me is as yesterday’s breeze.
Tomorrow’s torrent,
A banshee of a woman underneath you.
Unsteady as summer’s rain and languorous
to the wettest touch.
It’s that time again.
where you wrap us up in the aether
awaiting the cry of the eagle, cheating it to be together in our forever.
We are not nearly broken enough, with our glass hipbones
and swollen places begging for a hymn.
We only continue,
an awe of evermore.
Sweet aether and therefore,
as it has always been…
lest, we begin.
The communion of forever is us.
Your mouth mimics my shape;
a window, framing our existence in colors;
outlined in black because our souls could not be contained.
Your touch brings about such wonders,
the ocean blues, heather greens, and canyon reds
of our togetherness would blend space and time
and eagle could not bear the thought;
he did not take our awareness.
We are
the fruition of completion.
You feel my heart as your pulse.
I feel your pulse as my breath…
and each quickens, thickens our blood
and our sheets rip and shred
to tear down long dead walls...
rampant we explore the depths
and pools of tongues in shadows of skies
until the light, like the sun on the moon’s bodice,
is too expansive and illumined;
we cannot grow quiet.
My wrists come together in heat
and your being arches my back,
Romanesque, Byzantine, and emblazoned.
Ecstasy emanated as our fingers, touching.
Love lingered on our cheeks, blushing.
and we have barely begun.

© September 1, 2009~~DarkAngel_BlackWings~~all rights reserved


~~Dedicated to my aether mate--DaveDoom51~~

DaveDoom51's writings

Stephen King & John Saul Books

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Writings by DaveDoom51, Honesty

Phonie Ass People, WannaBes, Cheaters, Mind Games, Control Freaks, Abusers....and....Snotty yuppie mothers who have no jobs and sit around all day painting little wooden plaques and benches to put on their porch, as well as the matching t-shirt and leggings outfits for them and their daughters. Can we say traumatizing? I would pity these girls, except they turn out to be snots, just like their mothers.

Dreaming




She is restless in her dreaming, what is this awful dream about?
Within the halls of memories, pale screaming daemons writhe and shout.
No succor for her thirsty soul, her tainted blood cries for release…
Release from pulsing arteries, she wants her pounding heart to cease.

Falling deeper into her dream, malevolent presence she discerns…
His awful touch upon her skin, leaves poison scratches…and acid burns.
Lurking in the shadowed corners, foul sickly stench and daemon sounds…
When will this horrid nightmare free her, she fears no solace can be found.

Quick as thought, young maiden ‘wakens…finds herself upon her bed…
Shuddering breath escapes her lips, she’s surprised to find she isn’t dead.
She notices then her heart has slowed, stopped its vicious racing…
She only has vague memories now, of the shadows she was facing.

Absently, she rubs her arm, a persistent itch it seems…
She raises up her arm to see, her eyes widen as she screams…
For beneath the skin there’s movement, where movement shouldn’t be…
Scratching deeper with her nails, she wants to set what’s moving, free.

Desperately she looks about, she seeks some kind of blade…
A tool to open up her veins, so she won’t have to be afraid.
And there upon her night–stand, a crystal water glass discovered…
Frantically she shatters it, her naked body now uncovered.

Writhing creatures have multiplied, squirming just beneath her skin…
Coherent thought deserting her, not knowing where she should begin.
Hand comes upon the perfect shard, now slippery with her blood…
Desperately she cuts herself, releasing blood-worms in a flood.

Shapes squirming everywhere in her, busy with her home-made blade…
Opening up arterial fonts, so proud of all the cuts she’s made.
Even as her mind is screaming, a traitorous thought is forming…
She should cut her pretty belly, a simple action worth performing.

Sawing at the skin and tissue, her belly opens like a lover’s eye…
Maggots swarming out of her, it’s then that she begins to cry.
One final thrust is what’s required, a thrust to bring her body peace…
Last cut must be upon her heart, a cut to mark her soul’s release.

A grateful sigh escapes her lips, glass shard embedded in her heart…
No wicked dreams can now presue her, is this the end…or just the start?

© June, 2009~DaveDoom51~all rights reserved















Toltec Dreams


I walk upon the battlefield, feet stirring blood from ages past...
Whispering ancient foul enchantments, souls screaming that this peace can't last.
Head echoing my whispered oaths, words never heard upon this plane...
For with me I bring desolation, I bring revenge for innocence slain.

Earth vomits rotting carcasses, remains that I can scarce endure...
Fell place where only maggots rule, I find my thoughts return to her.
She who brought the sun to me, brought comfort to my tortured being...
Old majik in the rocks and trees, accentuates my power's seeing.

I chant my awful incantations, make paseses in the yellowed air...
I feel forbidden power fill me, compassion lost...blood-lust laid bare.
And as I shape my retribution, I smell again her perfumed hair...
Old majik groaning with my sorrow, breeze shrieks that I no longer care.

I call upon my Toltec brethren, let my blood mix with the dust...
I take the scent that remains of her, the only thing that I still trust.
Star children chanting in my brain, wachichu bastards will reap my pain.
Balance once again will reign, no one left to sing white-man's refrain.

I feel the surging deep inside me, as majik strives for sweet release...
I feel intending's portals open, wachichu screams shall never cease.
Monstrous forces fill my body, soul stretching 'til it's almost breaking...
I dance upon this barren plane, eating enemies' souls...ripe for the taking.

I approach the Eagle's lair.......
Wondering if I'll find her there.


© May, 2009 ~DaveDoom51~ all rights reserved
















Tempest



I would soothe your fevered brow...
Quench the flames of your desire, now.
Share that fluid that's meant for two...
And coax sweet nectar from deep, in you.

Bury my fibres in your body...
Wrap your spirit in muted light...
These things my love, I whisper to you...
These things and so much more....tonight.

I long to caress your silken skin...
Plumb the depths of you once again.
Move together in sweet embrace...
Savor again your delightful taste.

Rythmic movements of your belly...
Speak softly of your love for me...
Droplets within swollen tissue...
Moist passion's promise I can see.

Soft copper skin moves slow and steady...
My pulsing member slides up your thigh...
My swollen girth screams I am ready...
Pushing against you, I hear your sigh.

I feel tight muscles allow me in...
Deep pulsations as they begin...
Your wetness lubricates my soul...
Your culmination, will make me whole.

Building tempest inside my body...
Your muscles grip me as I erupt inside...
Shaking thighs pull me ever deeper...
Breathless moans as my flood subsides.

Lingering kisses as we move together...
Such intimate caresses will last...forever.


© May, 2009 ~DaveDoom51~ all rights reserved

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