POETRY

These poems are a living expression of my inner work. I offer them to you as a glimpse of my process towards radical self-acceptance, healing, and growth.

Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Life To Avoid

 

Coffee to wake
Instagram to connect
Porn to cum
Alcohol to relax
Weed to create
Coke to play
MDMA to love
News to inform
Sugar to distract
Mushrooms to pray
Valium to calm
Melatonin to sleep

Life to avoid

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
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Sex, erotic poetry, Kink Volume Two Zachary Phillips Sex, erotic poetry, Kink Volume Two Zachary Phillips

How The Others Sin

 

Erotica, R-18+

Why is it in porn
Most everyone’s lost their lawn?

Perhaps cause when we are bare,
It’s easier to compare.

When the hedges are trimmed
And the lights aren’t dimmed

That close up shot,
Shows everything we’ve got.

Cause who’d want to only look
At the cover of a closed book?

Still it makes me wonder
If it’s impacting our choices down under.

Tell me if you feel moved,
To have all your hair removed.

Do you want to fit in
With how the others sin?

It’s yet another symptom
Of us confirming to the system

Of us following the norms
Established on social media platforms

Shouldn’t sexuality be an expression
Of our freedom from repression?

Honestly I don’t care
If you want to shave your hair

I just want to ensure
That your reasons are pure

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
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Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips

Back To Scrolling

 

Mindless scrolling
Looking for validation online
Filling the time
Filling the void

Someone just liked my post
Fleeting happiness

Back to scrolling
Change apps
Scrolling again
Change apps back

Another like, but not from someone I like

I’m offended
Comment
I’m offended
Share

I wonder what she’s doing?
Damn, she’s still happy with him

Food as art
Bodies as art
Life as art
How unattainable
I’m jealous

You have memories from seven years ago
Cringe

10 things you won’t believe
10 times they got it wrong
10 posts to distract you from your own existence

Screen time report
Usage up from last week

Porn
Porn
Porn
Shame
Close all open tabs
Delete the latest hour

Half formed thought
Tweet
OMG, a retweet!
Just a bot

Bad news
More bad news
Memes about the news
Memes about memes
Sharing memes

I should work
Scroll
I should clean
Scroll
I should exercise
Scroll
I need to sleep
Scroll

Check one app
Check another
Check a third app
Recheck the first

Back to scrolling

 
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KINK, erotic poetry, Sex Zachary Phillips KINK, erotic poetry, Sex Zachary Phillips

The Siren’s Call

Heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.

Every position, perversion, and pleasure,
every fantasy possible, fulfilled forever.
All you need do is open your phone,
press a few buttons, then get yourself alone.

What we have here are the sirens of old,
pulling men off course and taking their gold.
With their songs and bodies they do tempt
and not even the most pious can keep themselves exempt.

The Sirens would pose, prance, and start to sing,
they would promise to do literally everything.
Whispering deeds that could rouse the dead,
forcing all men to stop thinking with their head.

Now you may say none of this really matters,
but if left unchecked your life will end in tatters.
What happens when we watch people fucking like rabbits?
what does that do to our real nocturnal habits?

How can a real women possibly hope to match
the perfect bodies, boobs, or snatch?
Of those sirens that you can easily summon,
exactly what you want at the click of a button.

Reality is distorted by such perfection,
it takes away the chance at real connection.
If you’re hoping your lady will act like a siren,
you’ll miss all the sexiness that’s worth admirin’.

It’s not her job to put on a show,
yet here she is, and she’s ready to go.
But now you can’t even get it up,
not even when she gives you a hearty warm-up.

Then you’ll blame her for not doing it right,
for wearing the wrong clothes or not being so tight.
When really the sirens have made you totally numb,
sexually impotent and socially dumb.

But what does it matter when you can find online
every variation of sex you could possibly divine?
Do you want to see a nun sucking her thumb
whilst a furry sticks a dildo into her bum?

Just search a few minutes for a visual feast,
a few more clicks and you’ll be watching a priest!
Nothing in real life will ever compare,
to all those things that the sirens choose to share.

But forgotten will be the dirty words said,
or all the smut you have had in a real bed.
Lost will be the memories of true debauchery,
like how she used her tongue like an act of sorcery.

Or the time she dressed up in thigh high boots,
or when she chose not to wear her swimsuits.
Those things all happened, and they happened to you,
but the siren’s call has left you in lieu.

If you think you’re not trapped just take this test,
try going a week without observing a siren’s breast.
Don’t watch, or click, or view them at all.
be honest, how long did it take for you to fall? 

If the siren’s call was instead labelled a drug,
you’d be considered an addict, a fiend, a bug.
But because most men are trapped as well,
no one acknowledges their internal hell.

So, heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.

 

Erotica, R-18+

Heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.

Every position, perversion, and pleasure,
every fantasy possible, fulfilled forever.
All you need do is open your phone,
press a few buttons, then get yourself alone.

What we have here are the sirens of old,
pulling men off course and taking their gold.
With their songs and bodies they do tempt
and not even the most pious can keep themselves exempt.

The Sirens would pose, prance, and start to sing,
they would promise to do literally everything.
Whispering deeds that could rouse the dead,
forcing all men to stop thinking with their head.

Now you may say none of this really matters,
but if left unchecked your life will end in tatters.
What happens when we watch people fucking like rabbits?
what does that do to our real nocturnal habits?

How can a real women possibly hope to match
the perfect bodies, boobs, or snatch?
Of those sirens that you can easily summon,
exactly what you want at the click of a button.

Reality is distorted by such perfection,
it takes away the chance at real connection.
If you’re hoping your lady will act like a siren,
you’ll miss all the sexiness that’s worth admirin’.

It’s not her job to put on a show,
yet here she is, and she’s ready to go.
But now you can’t even get it up,
not even when she gives you a hearty warm-up.

Then you’ll blame her for not doing it right,
for wearing the wrong clothes or not being so tight.
When really the sirens have made you totally numb,
sexually impotent and socially dumb.

But what does it matter when you can find online
every variation of sex you could possibly divine?
Do you want to see a nun sucking her thumb
whilst a furry sticks a dildo into her bum?

Just search a few minutes for a visual feast,
a few more clicks and you’ll be watching a priest!
Nothing in real life will ever compare,
to all those things that the sirens choose to share.

But forgotten will be the dirty words said,
or all the smut you have had in a real bed.
Lost will be the memories of true debauchery,
like how she used her tongue like an act of sorcery.

Or the time she dressed up in thigh high boots,
or when she chose not to wear her swimsuits.
Those things all happened, and they happened to you,
but the siren’s call has left you in lieu.

If you think you’re not trapped just take this test,
try going a week without observing a siren’s breast.
Don’t watch, or click, or view them at all.
be honest, how long did it take for you to fall? 

If the siren’s call was instead labelled a drug,
you’d be considered an addict, a fiend, a bug.
But because most men are trapped as well,
no one acknowledges their internal hell.

So, heed this warning one and all,
temptations abound that you may befall.
A bounty of women just a click away,
ready and willing, no need to pay.

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
Read More