Hospitality So, fired with lust, they beat his door Demanding that he hand them over, Though they were his precious guests: Two messengers with shining eyes. We want our way with them! they cried, Who are you to interfere? You are alien in our town. He begged them, Please, don’t wrong them, friends. I am their host; you’d bring me shame. Look, take my daughters in their stead— They are both virgins, I believe. But they insisted on the men. At this the messengers came out, And, summoning their special powers, They struck them with bright burning rays, Rendering the whole mob blind. Next day, they brought him out the town In time to see it bombarded By mighty fires from out the sky, So, with his daughters, he fled far Until they found a mountain cave, Where they laced him with alcohol And carried on the human race By freely taking while he slept. Paul Rapley 2026 #Consent

#PoemsAbout #Consent
Thank you @alanparrywriter.co.uk & @thebrokenspine.co.uk
#poets #poetrycommunity #poetry #poems #blueskypoets #blueskypoetry #blueskypoets #poetsofbluesky

Universal Health Services to acquire Talkspace in $835M deal to build out virtual behavioral health For-profit acute and behavioral hospital operator Universal Health Services is acquiring virtual behavioral care provider Talkspace, the companies announced Monday.  | The transaction aligns with UHS'...

#Talkspace has sold for $835M. Launched on $25M.
"Talkspace also has risk algorithms to flag suicide risk and is building out a behavioral health AI model trained on its internal, de-identified clinical data." #AIHype #DataPrivacy #Consent
www.fiercehealthcare.com/finance/uhs-...

Look at that cute black eye
.
.
#dark_skin #african_american #pegging #tomboy #dom_female #short_hair #tattoos #sub_male #size_difference #petite #cock #strapon #bdsm #abuse #consent
#nsfw #dark_skinned_female #femboy #dark_skinned_male

Speedpaints and non text versions on my patreon

On the Exhibition of Mr. Houdini Dale Tudge Most people were eager to witness Harry Houdini at the London Hippodrome. But I’m not most people, nor even some people, least of all any people you would know. If I learned anything from P.T. Barnum, it was unwise to call him Peter. Also that a lollipop is born every minute. I was not prepared to be a lollipop at this minute or any other. A shilling to watch a man struggle in handcuffs behind a shabby little cabinet*? I could go to Margate most weekdays and see it done properly for a ha’penny. (ap·dt) * This was billed as Houdini’s “Ghost Cabinet.” Not “The Cabinet of Eternal Suffering.” Not even “The Slightly Uncomfortable Cabinet.” I had expected rather more from a man who charged a shilling.

The Houdini spectacle, I beg my own pardon, "Mirror Challenge", was a promotion by The Daily Mirror, to whom I did not offer financial #consent for an act barely worth a farthing, and #surpassed by any Monday morning at a magistrates' court in Kent.

#prose #poemsabout #writing #vss365 #poem #vss

Hey Kinksters, if someone says "I'm sick and sore" the proper response is not "hey do you enjoy _________ kink". Or "wanna see me fill my pamper?!" #kink #consent #diapers #abdl

Taint She returns to what has assumed the name of home. Stray light, the bedroom devoid of him. She undresses, de-leaves like an autumnal tree. All the layers and what they have to hide. The bare bones underneath, quivering. Longing for birds. She dreams the wood infested with bugs, their mandibles sawing up the sun-shy soft flesh beneath the bark. Maggots in her shoes. Worms in her hair. No space left unviolated. Irreverence and sacrilege. She did not choose that storm. All that has been touched has turned itself wrong and inside out, has filled itself with the immeasurable weight of disgust, dirt, and days piling up like stones. The body counted in stretch marks trying to cover all that ache. The bathroom. The sink. The holy water. Things can be so clean and white and yet so stained with empty. She scrubs her hands ‘til sunset sings because blood is the best disinfectant. The sterile speech of razor blades listing immutable facts. You are soiled. You are nothing. The limbs of a doll that go slack in an angry child’s grasp. Maybe under the raw red flesh, some splinter of you remains. Fingers draw lines in ink and shame on a girl that did not want them. The stains that are sins without a chance of repentance or redemption or grace. The smudges that never come off again, the things that rot underground. She had never known how the morning dew could become the sweat of fear or how all the stardust in the world could clot into dust and filth.

Late (again) but here is one for #PoemsAbout #Consent ✨

for @thebrokenspine.co.uk
& @alanparrywriter.co.uk

The things you did not consent to and the marks they’ve made. This is about a very dear friend.

Thank you to paulrapley.bsky.social for inspiring me to try writing in 3rd person 🫶🏻

a little of what happened next:

the shape of yes,
becoming music

#poemsabout #consent #poetrycommunity

Most people misunderstand authority.
It isn’t taken.
It isn’t demanded.
It’s granted through consent.

A reflection from my conversation with @mzkim.vip

Full Episode here:
youtu.be/mQHw9fMkO2I?...

#SacredAndSubverse #PowerDynamics #Consent

Let’s talk about it!!👏👏
#SexEd #SexualHealth #Consent
#birthcontrol #STDAwareness
#women #girls

word problems had a dream that you killed me. which is common for a woman of a certain age. all ages. strange we are called bad at math. it's not prophecy. we're no witches. just arithmetic. how we calculate what we carry each day loving so many things that might destroy us.

For this week's #PoemsAbout, I'm thinking about #consent as risk calculation.

Thank you to the host @alanparrywriter.co.uk
and @thebrokenspine.co.uk and to all of the other writers.

#poetry #poem #writing #PoetryCommunity #BlueSkyPoets #writingcommunity

Red box with black shading and words of a poem in white: bombs I’m sorry we can’t hear your voices over the sound of the bombs – louder than a hundred thousand wolves baying at the blood moon than the volcano eruption-roar of release than the ferocious unappeasable anger of Zeus – the bombs scream scream and hurtle towards their target unerring – they do not ask consent for where they land for when they shatter the world

A day late with my response to the #PoemsAbout #Consent prompt (am involved in local elections happening on Sunday so I have a good excuse!). Can't wait to read the other responses, happy weekend poets! 💜
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

A thought #PoemsAbout #consent
@thebrokenspine.co.uk

Consent

one of those small murmured words
light as a leaf in the wind
with as little weight as a falling feather
a theory
something we have to give or withhold
in theory
in reality
a little weightless thing
the powerful simply take.

#MadMarch #WildWalkPrompt #PoemsAbout
#EVERYTHING #CLOVE #CONSENT

Sì! I consent, to the scent
Of the clove on the stove;
Penne aglio e olio
by turgescent lips rent;
Its allium accent recrudescent
upon our breaths in each kiss.
In my consent, everything is meant.
Salsiccia, toum, cloves-
stakes.

Gwisges I yr flodau'r haf A'r adar a yr gwenyn y gwanwyn A gwisges I yr dail'r hydref A rhew'r gaeaf, feudal ac yn wyn Daeth y tymhorau yn ffrog I mi Dw i'n eu gwisgo bob blwyddyn Ond bob blwyddyn eu lliwiau'n pylu Ac wedi torri'n fwy nag o'r blaen Mae fy nillad yn wedi rhwygo Heb I mi roi caniatad o gwbl I wore the flowers of the summer And the birds and bees of the spring I wore the leaves of the autumn And the winter's frost so soft and white The seasons became a dress for me I wear them every year But every year their colours fade And are more broken than before My clothes are torn without my consent

My offering to #PoemsAbout #consent
Is a particularly nerve wracking piece for me. It's the first time I have shared a piece written in Welsh.
My grammar is atrocious...
But I hope to one day improve.

#poetry #blueskypoet #poem #Welsh #Welshlanguage

For this week's #PoemsAbout #consent I found myself thinking about whose running things.

@alanparrywriter.co.uk
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
#poetrycommunity #poetry #poem #poems #skypoets #blueskypoets #blueskypoetry #poetsofbluesky #skypoet

Beulah A mother gathers white yarrow. The roadside sings with passing semis. Her skirt longs after them, sighs when left behind. She picks the tallest stems, the ones not tangled in vines. Her child tugs at her skirt. I’m hungry. I really am. The yarrow nod their heads. She picks the ones whirled with vines. No you're not. She picks the yarrow because as a girl she picked yarrow and the vines hold around some stems the way a boy once wrapped his hands around her neck, his mouth pressing hard, green cloved leaves, but that was when she was a child, knew nothing about resistance and the kissing like clucking a pony, urging, and the boy, insistent, a hungry child, I really am, and she rose from the ground, dirt and leaves pressed to the backs of her thighs, her neck hot, not tangled in vines.

#poemsabout #consent

Warching A Woman of Substance Whilst Homing a Rescue Cat : And all the buttons spilled, splashed undones curling across marble, counters of life's choices escape below the chaise where only tabby sees in a catnip of claw, her exit barred. Consent not exactly on the horizon. Sarah O'Grady

@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk #PoemsAbout #Consent
On the hoof:

the love of a king shows in the people
overworked trust destroys his
temple

a true ruler cares for every heart
the devotee, from silence, is first heard

#PoemsAbout #Consent and #emoetry

Trusted boy
trusted friends
trusted world,
in a blink
my words
didn’t matter-
only bodies
smothering,
bodies taking,
bodies robbing;

Trusted boy
trusted friends
trusted God,
no one came,
just hot breath,
spit,
and the end
of childhood

#poemsabout #consent #survivor #poetry @thebrokenspine.co.uk

#PoemsAbout! #Consent
@thebrokenspine.co.uk

@alanparrywriter.co.uk

#poem #poems #poetry #writingcommunity #blueskyepoets

So much water with nowhere to go, riled up and crashing into itself, end less ache to rush across the sand, to howl east with the wind as far as it will blow. I'm tired of waiting too—slip out from behind glass and let wind lap me up, yes I say yes take me wherever you go.

Trying something a little different for #PoemsAbout #consent — that's what it's all about, right? Inspired by the very windy day we are having and that James Joyce book I never finished...

#consent #PoemsAbout @thebrokenspine.co.uk @daveashleypoet.bsky.social @jackdaniels75.bsky.social #ThisIsWhereYouDied #PedroPascal #Muse #WritingMuse #CreativeMuse

Spain fines Yoti €950,000 over biometric data and consent failures Spain's AEPD fined Yoti Ltd €950,000 for three GDPR violations involving biometric data, invalid consent, and excessive data retention in its age verification app.

FYI: Spain fines Yoti €950,000 over biometric data and consent failures #GDPR #BiometricData #DataPrivacy #Consent #DataProtection

Spain fines Yoti €950,000 over biometric data and consent failures Spain's AEPD fined Yoti Ltd €950,000 for three GDPR violations involving biometric data, invalid consent, and excessive data retention in its age verification app.

FYI: Spain fines Yoti €950,000 over biometric data and consent failures #GDPR #BiometricData #DataPrivacy #Consent #DataProtection

the soft unguarding
the shoulders coming back
the mouth becoming its own idea
again

willingly
warmly
without translation

the shape of yes
arriving in the body
all at once
after the match is agreed upon

willingly
warmly
without translation

#poemsabout #consent #poetry #fragmentsfriday

For #PoemsAbout #Consent
with much thanks to @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk

NORTH COAST 500 by Clare O'Brien “Scotland’s ultimate road trip…stunning coastal scenery, white sandy beaches, rugged mountains, remote fishing villages, hidden gems, and a wealth of unforgettable experiences.” Released from clockwork time and tide, they come to play. To race on thunderwheels, to bag the mountains, take the trophies home, to pin the light on Instagram. None of that is real. They think they make the most of us, our big wild skies, unfathomable lives. Complete the circle, log the time they spent, count the cash they didn’t. When the weather closes in they will return us to ourselves, a tattered library book. The land they borrowed licks its wounds and weeps. In spring they will come back.

For #poemsabout : this was in Scots litmag 'Northwords Now' last year. Sparked by how the land, the wildlife, the people of the #scottishhighlands feel about increasing over-tourism. Do we give #consent?
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
@alanparrywriter.co.uk
#poem #poems #poetry #writingcommunity #nc500

#poemsabout #consent #MadMarch #Tonight #poem #writing #dansa

#poemsabout #consent

consent
has the scent
of a con