Concept warning! You must be over 16 to read this poem!

The Fountains of Delights


“In the abundance of water the fool goes thirsty” –Bob Marley


So let us leave them now my Lover,

Those lip-puckered pillars

of prurient respectability,

Who could not look upon the bright lights of Sodom

& Gomorrah without turning to bitter salt in their envy.

Yeah let us leave them then, my Lover,

In their desolate, lust-starved wastes

And I’ll meet you by the desert shore,

where life’s sweet waters flow,

And bring your rubber body suit,

For its sexual snorkeling we shall go..


Ah! Yes! Playing Sea-Schlurrpent

with my She-beast by the sea-shore.

Her inner fronds all sweetly swollen

like crimson sea-slugs slippery with lust

in the blood red oceans of the moon.

Hither we slither and thither in the seXual slime

Procreationing nothing but polarised energy in our play.

The enemies of irony, we laugh at our own absurdities,

Ludicrous, lubricious, we lap & slap,

Sip & Suck at the worm in the violently, violetly rose-budding Dawn.

Early birds rising in Rose fingered dawning

As the worm turns and squirms,

in the rosy bud writhing

Petals fall burning,

Yearning and turning,

brushing past Lips,



Falling and gliding,

Dividing & sliding,

Glissading in glittering Cliterescendo’s

Slithering down the Lippery Slide…

Pouting & spouting & sprouting we go!

Lipshh schtick and schlup like Obsidian slugs

Blackly copulating in pools of ink

reflecting a blood-red moon…


We lie here all luminous,

Voluptuous, them two of us,

Expressing glimmering exudescences of our Exultations,

Exploding in EXstatic eXhilaration.

Exhortations of your love ululate sweetly from your throat,

As we Rise & we Ride,

Slyly. Shyly.

Rising and Riding

Gliding, Colliding

Riding the waves with the energy peaking

Towards the intensity that we are seeking/

/CRITICAL MASS is reached/

Atoms split/

Quantams leap/

Energy transcends Form/

Time manifests as Space

and from the old shells discarded

Step Radiant New beings (no master race hear Adolph but..)

Creatures of Innocence

Yes, Creatures of Light

clothed only in their own Innocence!

(Innocence itself just another mask to be discarded, another

Skin to be shed at the appropriate time)

Larval forms swarm & mutate,

Coalesce & dissolve, decay, reassemble, recombine,

evolving, devolving, deviating,

revolving in a constant process

Inverse, reverse and perverse.

A perpetual process, yes,

Searching for the Perfect Form..

The Search is Endless of course,

Each Apocalypse/Utopia is just another loop

in the Infinite Spiral of Chaos coiling in

upon itself like a giant snake swallowing its own Tale.

In Evolutions restless quest Discarded Models (“Our Failures”)

litter the streets and the boulevards,

clog the alleyways to the Heart

with the Dead Congestion of Atrophied Emotions,

Form a mountain of corpses at last, on which we finally stand,

Like Byzantine conquerers, surveying a cold new dawn

that is forever breaking,

as Consciousness returns to this pale flesh once more,

To find myself lying in your arms,


with the tender aching

Of luminous limbs.




Alas there will be no review this year of the Nimbin “World Performance Poetry Cup”, as the Reverend was forced to flee before the semi-finals to deal with a medical emergency back in his parish. Apologies to Gail & the Crew.


The Reverend Hellfire is a practising Performance Poet an an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists AND the Church of the Universe.

He walks amongst us as a cautionary example.



~ by reverendhellfire on August 12, 2012.


  1. A sexual celebration!

  2. […] From the Poem The Fountains of Delights […]

  3. Hi Reverend. Trish here. We met Saturday night. I’m going to add my e-mail add as I’d like to actually see you live. Again. Reading some of your work yesterday (Julian keep your dick in your pants! Seriously! What man will EVER do that). Your work is as brilliant online as live. It was an honour to meet you, to hear you, to get to know you. A refreshing, wise, old soul you are. Thank you. Trish.x

    • Thank you, your kind words humble me.
      I must admit though that when folks give me such praise it makes me nervous. I always fear they’ll end up being dissappointed and dissillusioned when they learn the terrible truth; that my achilles heel is my feet of clay.
      Nontheless it was a pleasure likewise to make your acquaintance at the Julian Assange Support gig. The quality of those attending made up for the small quantity.

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