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ALL HALLOWS (Erotic Tales of Old Souls told in the Horrific) vol I

by Pantherion Prime w/ Friends StarChild Kimela, Puss'n Boots & Petal Fatale

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1.
THE WICKED LICK IT DIALOGUE StarChild exits a limousine. She has agreed to meet Lord Prime at his home tucked away in a discreet place of seclusion and security… his mansion is a veritable fortress… covered by a dark aura… that conceals a light. PRIME: So… did you enjoy the ride? and Raul… was he… hospitable? STARCHILD: Yes, your driver was very nice! PRIME: Good… good! did you happen to have any of the champagne? STARCHILD: (slurring)Yes… it was quite delicious and different… PRIME: (chuckle)… oh its just a little special elixir of mine… meant to awaken you… to ALL… of your senses. STARCHILD: Yeah… well … I am feeling a little warm ... do you mind if I remove my shawl? PRIME: Oh... No… no… not at all STARCHILD: So… what is this place? It’s vague from the outside… and so far away. PRIME: This… this is my lair! This… is the Den of Pandera… where ALL of my magickal children… the verbal potions and spells such I speak… are conceived and born. STARCHILD: Well it’s awfully dark… but I do like all of the candles…and the smell… it’s so… so relaxing… and what… what is that? PRIME: That… is where I’ll bathe you STARCHILD: Bathe me? But… I thought we were going to just talk? PRIME: (beaming) And we shall talk my darling … but you must know by now that you… and I… we speak another language than other people… and in many different tongues… ALL… without… ever… saying… a word. STARCHILD: We do? PRIME: Yes… of course we do! Just follow me… and I’ll show you. I will teach you the dialect… the vowels and consonants… the verbs and the nouns. STARCHILD: What are you doing? PRIME: Why I’m just… sitting you down to remove your shoes… just… relax STARCHILD: OK… wow… this is so soft… like clouds… like it’s suspended in air. PRIME: Yes! (in a transformed voice) Like heaven! STARCHILD: Now what are you doing? PRIME: (pursuasively) I’m going to blindfold you now love… don’t be afraid… you said you wanted to talk… and so now I’m preparing you for our very deep conversation. STARCHILD: (trembling) But… I can’t… I can’t see you with my eyes covered. PRIME: Shhhhh! (cooing)relax… you’ll be able to see me just fine… (transformed voice) with ALL of your other senses… I need you to trust me… ok? PRIME: Lie down now… relax… and just lift your hips up just a little bit so I can quickly… get you out of that skirt STARCHILD: ok… maybe… maybe I should go… PRIME: (transformed voice) Maybe… you should stay… besides… No cabs! it’s too late… and my driver is gone now. I took the liberty of giving him the night off STARCHILD: (mumbles) I can just call a cab... PRIME: There is no reception here… no cabs… and besides… you don’t even know where you are… and this place doesn’t exist to the outside world …. How hush… and open your mouth! (pops a finger food into her mouth) STARCHILD: (still blindfolded) Ummmm…. What is that? It’s so sweet and juicy PRIME: its called Durian… now taste this! STARCHILD: ummm… what is that… tart but yummy! PRIME: its called Rambutan…. And this… how about this? STARCHILD: YES! YES… I love this one… (demanding)What is IT! PRIME: This one… this one... is me... licking your lips! You want more? PRIME & STARCHILD: (moans)… yes yes…… (both moan it out) PRIME: Counts STARCHILD: (moans) PRIME :(grunting smacking) STARCHILD: (moans voice morphing into a beast herself) Interlude into dark ecstasy and finally climax STARCHILD: You are a beast you know… but such a beautiful… Beast! THE END
2.
3.
DE JA VOU I've seen your face before been to this place before... known your soul before you are indeed to me... a haunting de ja vou. three shades of me of you mingling in a mix of whites and greys. three shapes you in a site of misty me. de ja vou... do you remember me? de ja vou... do you recall when we 1st cultivated this sight this sound... out by the sea? a de ja vou... a view of me... a spew love so long ago... that I had thought might be for we forever and we'd never fade to black if only... I and you my lovely de ja vou... would let... it be. you said it's better that we let go of these lasting past life memories but I swear I cannot forget you... I miss you de ja vou... you so unalike now than any other... this judge of every other love too pain-filled for me... to see.. a distilled pull of what to me was once... so much of what was once... so rich to me. a de ja vou... the sentiment of you... so full of such so full of what was once this... old story that was told a lost epic of my own this stolen epithet of my... inner experience this now only rich in what comes rushing in again in this my lonely live of life without thee by the shore of me. de ja vou... are you remembering me and that beautiful time of we so way back when? so... way back when I knew that I could breathe and live with you beneath the ocean's roar forever and ever and ever... de ja vou? I used to submerge with you back then... you were the mermaid sleeping underwater. I but a simple initiate gone down the twenty-eight steps each reach to next the levels of my temple by the sea. ahh... de ja vou... don't you remember me? I gone down to drown myself in the lovely deep of thee. an entry of the thrust of me into the mystery of this thy beautiful world... of words? the best days of me ALL ways were spent as a night with you... a de ja vou... the read of me. a ride of tide... into that life which I used to dream of in this deep. this... see beneath of my submerge I to but be... a re-emerge into the sublime.... after the bubbling baptismal of my mumbles and my tones my bubble and my groans thus only loaned to me temporarily in the vision of you... my… de ja vou. Pantherion Prime from PRIME Scribes © 2014
4.
she's not like other girls... her world of words so enticing as to awaken me… from the deep, deep slumber of my sleep her verbal ways… are so inviting... her prose so… decisively phrased so excitingly placed and poised line by line… to pause… only in the intellectually explicit… sexual is the erotic content in the liturgy of her ritual deeds thus scented with an incense seep… that I call… poetry… her flow of prose… made within the handy reach of the peripheral visions of her… each and every frame of mind spilling into mine as a chilling a verse... of such deliciousness… so delighting as is… the very thought of her. dressed in the robes of purple… and strobe lights she….in all her illicitness... the spit of… oh so tasty’s... fiery spirit... the insert of a few curses in the gap between her teeth her speech perched in the split of her… luscious lips... the kisses of her of crimson is... this… oh so blissfully sweet. and indeed She is to me my little harlot…. my Scarlet Woman who with this… oh so nasty... mastery… of the grip… the tightening of her lips and wiry fingers’ kneads… she working… so untiringly in the stoking … and the poking and the prodding and her pouting… round the hot embers of the open mic of me… in spoken word… she the… oh so… everlasting and seductive demand of my understanding in the lyrical… suck of such and such an opening… leaks the ink of erotic think… of she the… flowing ‘round the floating pen of my conundrums… of the rhythmic ...drums set… to the… oh so... sticky beat of me. she is the... jack off of and spill of the plied mouth rock… the reply that keeps me forever hard… in the ever loving flip of sing of song patterns… the tattered strip of the wig from me … she is the gift… with the whip of hips of oh so… tricky see?... so…honestly... and truthfully... I must admit it that it takes a truly special kind of one for me, I think... to even make me crazy like this to say insane is not enough... to but play rough is just enough to...pay… the full expense of what is my… mental touch... its… more than just pure insanity... more than vanity… to take me so… far outside the realms of the desert of… her Star... the real… reality… leaving me… sensually uncaged… untamed and raging at the gates of this perverted mind and body… so hopelessly stolen away… converted to her dark side…I taken to the... ridden brink of my emboldened and unbridled... lift of soul… up! up! into the old ancient know of… flaming spirit… no minimalism in the animism of me… just the thrust of… pent up aggression and lust released in the aftermath of the fencing in of the sensuality of true of heart… of 1 part man and 1 part god… of my consistency the rest was made of the wail and assail of her wall… the ALL-Beast… to eat the meat of my Revelation... not 666 but the revolutionary concept of the sexual context of 1872 and I want him set free there to play all day with her… uncaged… unleashed… allowed to be… and roam and pillage the villagers of her city streets… of her reckless abandon… of me… riding that ass like Jesus in the rites of Dionysus hitched the moon rise of Diana in the pitch black Nights of Pan… and I want him drunk with wine… punch drunk with the…funk of her nectar… sweet… I want him only to be the lover… of her keep and the protector of she… the lonely anti-hero destined to receive the holy mantle of the renegade lector-priest… that defector of temple of temperate things… the mountain climber up! up!into the infinite to but touch the rune of the necromancer up! up! into the climes… of her steep inclines… that… confederate motherfucker and defector of crimes…. committed against the empirical states of altered consciousness… the pull of dragon tales of a hazy heat of what it is that bears her… fiery flame… the mantric name games that lead from the straddle up on the scriptures of the Tantras to the positions of the Kama Sutras thus piled up on the top of me… the meet the…test of… She-Who-Rides-the-Beast. Pantherion Scribes © 2013
5.
PETALE She beloves him Her unfathomable subterranean lover Her most acute downfall is the obvious fragility he instigates within her calm for he bears the scent of her mortal threat and pays alms to the stone fact that she would literally die without his lyrical breath upon her nakedness her dependency has become renowned within an attentive audience of beautiful devotees She must have been born to bear the lesions he often leaves clawed into the cranial of her brains her emotions constantly bleeding out at the very thought of his scratched approach He Her true nemesis A sexually driven retribution for those who have dared to love him against the very will of any form of fate and all odds It was as if he had laid in wait to pounce upon her willing heart and she sought the perilous beast in him to devour all that she ever was for she herself was meaningless without the blister of his rub on the back of her heels sweetnesses and innocences were the coveted dishes she had to serve and he swallowed them whole as if they were his last feast before a planned death greedily each time Tearing and ripping a little bit more of her away from herself She longed to be dragged into the bottomlessness of his darkness Thrown on her back… hands secured Ankles crossed… tied ….and pulled until her toes were above her beautiful head Her flooded flower completely exposed to his ravenous liking ready to receive the hardness of his erratic thrust skin to skin skull to skull sweat to sweat and all the throttled fucking one sacred whore could beget Her swollen breasts and her ass cheeks drenching wet slow licks of red tongues perked nipples and neck nails dug deep into the flesh of his back she hid but her pussy scent was tracked as his lips smacked and there she laid spread wide for his take like a smorgasbord of spiritual offerings just for him and only him because he was her Priest He who marked her with the divide of the 3 sixes of his heart multiplied to equal Her Beast……. PANTHERION she is his... subterranean Beauty the center of an Etruscan jewelry piece... a treasure that he... selectively... and possessively... adores. and though he is but a ... crustacean Beast to some... he is the Grim Reaper of her keep... he the lowly bottom feeder... who never sleeps although thought of by some as ugly is beloved of she. he who... moves and is still... he who's lust... is more than able enough to will to reach... beneath the surface to the deep sweep... of her ocean floor... and such. according to the ancient lore of him he the phantasm's gore... the magickal moor that touches the moon lit core of the world of her... his oyster. she... the viscous secrete now cloistered in the... dip and peak... that with lips... he strips of these... the lovely leak... of nacre... the... black mother-of-pearl. the bespeak of her writes the milky white of her sweet notions... the secrete of the potions of ecstatic joy in healthy portions of her employed. energized enthusiasm... inserted like a toy in the spasms of the erotic... he tossed in the ways of the orgasmic flee... of she. and he thus nicks and taps with the tips of his prickly parts her heart in the rhythmic wave of she... his natural slave. she the sub... that admittedly and willingly gave to him of herself... she to ever be the holy servant of this antagonist and never leave his side. he the subterranean top... of she who holds the sole role of the protagonist of he... to be... submitted to the blindfolded of this... begotten trust. and there she lies... with him and in him in the darkness as this unforgotten truth... expressed in the spread... of limbs of her... she... so stretched to the limits of this underwater cavern and pier and... atmosphere of the little death cum through unrepentant sins of him. and it is there in the steep penetration... that he the monstrous agent hath now slowly gleaned... the every... measure of. and he drinks and eats the very dregs of her excrete ripped clean like teeth... with that... hard rock entity... the sharp razor that bleeds the amorous pits and pores that in his body armory fit...that doth feed... upon the squeeze and tease of swollen breasts. and every bit if it seeks its entry inch by inch... until via the whole of her enlivened is in deed without a question simmering... is what at best is nondescript but still is her crimson shimmering with what the knife of the knight has left. and by her demand he maddeningly takes her soul... by her flight of resistance he ignites the rite that thus agitates her flesh... and he rips and rapes... the patterned inscriptions of spiritual her inhibitions... and yes! before e'er she catches... her breath he snatches it back . and he is... tainting and tasting her delicious victuals from below the waist... to the nape of neck. and she... spreads legs until the gush of pussy pours along with the active ports of the active lactation of this immortal mystic meditation. and with the import of... lick... and rub... and suck he plugs... all of what rises up and falls against her trembling cheeks. and she is so lost... so tossed in the waves these of ripples between... her pleasure and her pain caught in the space between... her laughter and her cries. and he tends to her every sigh in the assemblage of her lifted thighs... as he tweaks her great divide... with the clipped nipples of her thoughts... to peak he the... top of her subterranean beauty... and she the bottom... of his Beast. Pantherion Speaks through Prime Scribes with Petale Fatale © 2013
6.
THE DAEMON AND HE she hath cut me in half so that... between the daemon and me the two of us... hath no heart. before e'en the conversation starts they agree to see the the truths that say wisely that... things inevitably fall apart. e'en in the matters of science and art... love although absent hears matters of lust in the distant cast a word that... flatters and flutters in the face of death... only because there are no known captives left... with anything less to show for it. no fine vehicle any more to show for its dismemberment in the fulfillment of the prophetic mysterious that cums and goes. and so it tears at the soul in the aftermath.... that was and is this path.... the laser light of what forever hath been etched with the epitaphs of laughter... she speaks of in the clatter and clutter of sin filled thoughts the lust set aloft with two fingers caught in the mist of the gentle whispers of softly moistened lips that swell with the enlivenment of the her ecstatic dance of necromancy with which she eventually invokes his name... with turn of hips. with her lament flame of spells... she cuts him in half and he... though still as of yet... now willing die to let his shadow companion... the daemon live... even if the other part of him is destined to be driven to hell. She loved him To pith To depth Beyond death She loved him........ She falls back into Anamnesis From whence time He first appeared Onto her Her flesh burned Upon sight Lust called out to her Held her She experienced Within her winged lover Perfect storm All elements present To conjure the tides high To cause winds fierce He breathed A fire Into her lungs It was then She began life And then...... Still...... He cared for her In ways She's never known A father A friend A lover A brother Her spirit knew He had arrived This would not keep For her lover came In form of part daemon........ Part human The union Never to be She knew inevitably He would need to return From whence he came..... A panic had arisen She felt as if Her death was imminent She will not live without him She cannot allow his love To be another's Not in this life Or the hereafter Not in hell Nor heaven Nor Earth She belonged to he And he unto her Forever Her sanity ceased...... She shall keep his heart Forever Under glass Partake of its meat So that she may Consume his soul Keep him within her vein His love shall course Throughout her So........ She hath cut him in half So that.....between the daemon and he The two of them Hath no heart

about

this a compilation of some of th darker pieces I have done either as a solo artist or as collaborations with others. I decided that the album release date would be on ALL Hallows Eve, the night before ALL Saint's Day, when the ancestral spirits communicate and to play and hence the title is not your stereotypical Halloween album for it is not motivated nor inspired by the commercial idea of the holiday.

I call this genre Erotic Horror. it is similar to what I ALL so call Esoteric Poetry. it is mix of sexuality and spirituality that is very prevelant in many of my scribes. some of its ideas and views may be interpreted as being influenced by alternative ideas.

credits

released October 31, 2014

appearing on this album with me (Pantherion Prime) are StarChild Kimela Ezechukwu, Puss'n Boots, and Petal Fatale.

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about

Pantherion Prime Riverside, California

Pantherion Prime is a pen name of mine...

it is an dentity... a personality that I use to scribe...
and describe the spiritually erotic notions and annotations
of my works in esotericeand rotic poetry.

I AM a multi-disciplinary artist who creates through sculptures through
poetry and music that could... and would reflect
the very essence of me... as a matriarchal man.
... more

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