At height on a plastic box, / feet off earth, your hand / spanned that chromy globe

At height on a plastic box,
feet off earth, your hand
spanned that chromy globe

and

I wished it my neck, or head:
my belt would have spun
and hair risen too

but

you were just a model, a
static example, a fifth period
Van de Graaff statue

so

the class just chewed and
there maybe was sun outside
or a plane passing

which

both rather better spoke
physics than these pitted benches;
whiny apparatus, some statistic,

but



you were my sun
albeit 93 million reasons
I could only orbit

and

your celestial intake, your wild
hair made you a juvenile godling,
raising powers from friction

and

they wanted a volunteer to touch
your finger, receive
your bolt of puny lightning

and I

raised my
hand, closed
my eyes,



and got
electrocuted
at twenty millimetres.

the p word is a collection of 322 articles, blogs, podcasts and threads in the voices of pedophiles and others who oppose adult child sexual contact and sexual exploitation of children. Despite our mainstream views, this content is frequently removed from social media or blog sites because openly discussing pedophile attractions or avowing them are not tolerated. Our side of the conversation continues here.

editor at the p word net | Except where stated, all images are AI and do not depict real people. | Download the whole site.

in april, i open my bill

poem: a salesman, 1991

poem: mole, 1991

benjamin harker

Paedophiles do not pursue the lives of cuckoos purposefully. We begin loved and welcomed. We are babies, then children and we grow up alongside you.

benjamin harker

Life's a banquet, his son had to beam, / and most sons of bitches are starving.

benjamin harker

a dark poem from a dark place

Paedophiles do not pursue the lives of cuckoos purposefully. We begin loved and welcomed. We are babies, then children and we grow up alongside you.

Life's a banquet, his son had to beam, / and most sons of bitches are starving.

a dark poem from a dark place