Couplets of Compulsion

This is my latest zine. It is a tiny handbound book with a tiny red ribbon bookmark, filled with couplets written in iambic pentameter. They are meant to be little magick spells, conjuring up lust, nostalgia, love, aching, and longing. The inspiration for these came from Dennis Cooper, the Poetic Edda, a goth bf, the song “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel equating romantic and divine love, and rereading my old diaries.

If you want one, email me or shoot me a message!

To concentrate the sentiment quite well
A supersaturated magick spell


My dagger raised against your sabre’s might
We clash and toil, for man is man’s delight

The final time slipped by without a sign
Though parted we are bound by knotted twine



I saw an angel leaned against a wall
Curls wreathed in smoke and fumes of ethanol



Dream slipping as I grasp for you somewhere
Although my grip is strong, nothing is there


Cold moon reflecting on the polished stone
Beg for my boot, a falter in your tone



Your words inflict delirium so warm
Awake in every nerve a burning storm



Beholding in your eyes a shining door
I pass that way towards a silver shore


Your eyes in purple and your eyes in blue
The jacaranda blossoms in the dew


Two jagged cuts pared down the boundary
Our hearts now close as they can ever be



A towering, resplendent goth boyfriend
Glum angel, I am yours until the end

With savage sweetness I love you to death
Entangled as we share the same last breath

O blessed boy, possess me as your own
Carve secret runes into my collarbone

The rapturous tide of blood made me confess
Your teeth extracting vows of faithfulness

Ode to the Horned God

A hallowed clearing in an ancient wood
So thick the daylight scarcely trickles through
There lies his kingdom, towering he stood
Leaves catching sticky sun in drops of dew

His heavy horns protrude from tangled hair
Gnarled oak knuckles, his graceful hands that bless
My lips parted in a wordless prayer
Accepted with the tenderest caress

Receiving consecration as I knelt
Commanded by his silent, blinding gaze
The sacrament slowly begins to melt
At once his lightning set my skull ablaze

My brow anointed, blessed with life aglow
Communion given so that I may know

Ode to a Friend

Alone with treasures I have yet to find
Stones and lace, your books haphazardly stacked
I touch each object that you left behind
So delicately like an artifact

The sky retains your color as we lay
In a field of tiny flowers blooming
I do not know exactly what to say
Unreadable expression, fog is looming

Back to the lightning storms from times gone by
And rushing onwards feeling the sea crash
I melt amongst the orchids mystified
See gentle ghosts who quickly turn to ash

Together in Arcadia we are
And high above us hangs a crooked star

Ode to a Twink

To put to paper what usually drifts
In fevered fits of color and warm blood
Weaving words into gently crafted gifts
Just as it rises in a fiery flood

Your pointed words can always find their way
Through air and twisted wires to the tender
Hidden places wandering fingers stray
O blesséd Twink, somber in your splendour

A dreamy wood, somehow I found you there
A blur of fog and tangled up we kissed
Broken light on wet skin shining fair
Be my druidess, veiled in vine and mist

Grey and blue eyes made of stormy sea
And lightning travels fast and wildly free

Ode to a Sorcerer

Each flower meets my eye and recalls you
To pick them all and send them to your door
Festooned with petals red, yellow, and blue
Your beauty yet requires something more

No words in my mouth can approximate
The vastness contained in your stormy eyes
Inspiring one to self-flagellate
With reverence, Arbor Vitae arise!

It could be fun, the letters rearranged
Will tie a secret knot, a covenant
Outside all time and never to be changed
By fortune, distance, fate, or discontent

Thus with my essence I create a seal
My Will enacted, shining, hard as steel

Ode to an Outlaw

The cowboy hangs his hat beside the fire
The endless sky’s split open turning red
Strange dreams of impossible desire
A rustle wakes the buckaroo with dread

Moonlight reveals a mean and lissome man
A gruff voice, “Boy I reckon that you’re mine.”
Scramblin’, his sixer slips out of his hand
The boy’s caught in his lasso, dark eyes shine

Tied up he’s feelin’ queer, like too much sun
His captor, right behind him smells of smoke
He presses into the outlaw’s sixgun
The outlaw, flustered, wrangles his cowpoke

Now they’re in for quite a long, hot ride
A wanted man, a cowboy as his bride