Posts Tagged ‘more sex’


November 30, 2008

I am preparing a new manuscript for possible publication this spring. It’s a collection of all the Japanese inspired flashers, poetry, tanka, haiku and some other sundry writings in this vein. It’s piling up, too much was written this year in this ‘style’ and I do have people interested in seeing it all together. That’s the good news.

The bad news is I have had to push back the publication of “A Seasoning of Lust” just because of a more careful rewrite of that manuscript. But Bill Penrose is the editor of all things good and is still the best of news. Bill inspires confidence and takes a great burden off my shoulders and on to his formidable ones.

Looks like “Seasoning” will be due (??? is this birth??) February 14, 2009 and that seems very appropriate.

I have set myself a writing schedule that forgot the big appointment in Montreal in late January. A 5 hour workshop with Audra Simmons at Dance Conmigo and a gala performance that night. I won’t be performing, but it was close. I had to decline because it meant a piece of choreography developed and that does take months. At least for me.

This workshop is an introduction, as I have written here before, to a whole new strange world for me. Trained in Turkish/Egyptian, Tribal Fusion is a riot…and definitely a discipline that is alien right now.

So, I’m posting a little poem, non tanka, just to coast by.

Some new tanka tomorrow….this is still Saturday on this side of the pond.

Lady Nyo


You stir my loins
Like a long kitchen spoon,
Worn smooth
With years of
Bowl of it
With sexual waves
Long forgotten.

You stir my loins
Make me shiver
Make me weak
Make me cream
Make me wet

Make me lean
Over the counter
Your hands
Slipping up my thighs,
Under my apron
That piece of cloth
No barrier for modesty
Legs spread wide,
You move
To crush me against
Marble and
The marble of my skin
Soft, smooth, cold
Heating to your lust
Telling me to
Keep stirring
Act like nothing
Is disturbing
The making
Of this cake.

You rise-
I don’t know about the batter.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2008

I’m running this post from a couple of months ago…Bellydance! because it strikes me as having some sense!

November 11, 2008

and because I got a couple of good queries about this issue…..

Belly dance and other nostrums…..

Some of my friends know I am a belly dancer.  I’ve been at it for about 5 years, and have only scratched the surface of all the different techniques.  I spent months in classes learning routines, the Mizmar, Jasmine, Hagallah, etc…and I hated every moment. Well, not every moment, in the beginning it was new and untried and  getting my body to conform to the different movements was awkward, frustrating and exhausting.  And exciting for a few weeks.   You have to ‘think’ in choreography.  You have to be part of the group-think and movement.

You have to be a good nazi.

You have to follow orders.

It took almost 4 years to finally break out of the  Turkish routine of following other patterns and develop my own. (I had tremendous teachers…)  It took that long to trust my body to respond in less awkward ways, and in fact, to break out automatically in dance.

NOW it’s routine.  Sure, it’s inappropriate to do a shimmy in the fish department , or maybe it’s all that ice with dead-eyed trout and salmon watching, or to do breast lifts and breast shimmys when sitting drinking coffee while reading a book in a booth, or walking down  Home Depot aisles and doing double hip drops, and alternating sides, but what you are doing is Vibrating with a latent sexual energy.  For after all, belly dance is in essence, sex.

Ok…a lot of people deny this, but it figures. (and it took a cranky man to convince me of this…) Its roots are in childbirth movements, where hip gyrations and stomach flutters were designed to PUSH the baby out.  And before birth, the body was strenghtened, the muscles and tissues, for the coming birth.  And before that!  It was dances of seduction, and besides the fun of what comes with THAt, it led many times to pregnancy.

In the Middle East, and Africa, girls as young as 4 were taught to belly dance…I have seen young girls here in this country.  They take it very seriously, and can imitate the women around them with ease if not total grace.

(I got mad at the owner of the club I danced at the end of March, and stomped out.  I haven’t danced really (except for a few parties) in 5 months.

Now I realize that I love dance more than I hate the owner.  So back I go.)

I thought perhaps I would be back to square one, because this is the longest time, except one where I had a knee in a brace (knees go out the most for belly dancers…) for about 7 months….

But something has happened to my body, apparently a very  independent organ from my brain. Recently, as I contemplated going back to August classes, (August is the dead zone here in the south) I decided to take the bull by the horns, drop that croissant from my teeth, and see what the old body could do.  I was surprised.

Something has matured in my movement.  My extensions are longer in my arms, the hips have a mind of their own, the hands are commanding and though I don’t have the wind or stamina I had before I stopped dancing, there was definitely something better happening.

I think what happened was two things.  My body got a good rest.  The muscle memory built up, and then my body was glad to get back to the routine it knew and was ‘fed’ by it.

Sure,  my timing in choreographed movements is off, but that will come back.  I am just pleased to be back in the game.

Mac the knife in NY, a friend with a webblog I have mentioned before ( wrote something that resonated to me deeply: What one does with who one is could be so important (in life).

I guess in some way, what I do (dance) and who I am came together in some way that I couldn’t deny anymore, though I tried.

Movement has been a tremendous influence in my life…it has kept depression at bay and channeling it into something that creates a form of beauty has made a lot of difference for me.  It’s created self-esteem, confidence and a bit of arrogance. (and I am aware that arrogance has been a thorn in the foot of one man in particular…)

It has made me feel beautiful, whether I am or not.  It doesn’t take prisoners, dance, it slaughters us all alike and reforms us from the ashes.  It brings the essential sexual female to the front and gives her a platform to work her magical nature…at any age.

I have to create a class for some beginners, special friends that are eager to learn from my poor teaching.  This is a great responsibility for me, and I have thought over it for a couple of days.  I want their experience to be ‘better’ than mine.  I want them to feel their innate sexuality, their allure from the first lesson.  I want them to find their beautiful independent ability to be a powerful dancer, in mind and body, but I want most of all to stress that it doesn’t take years with the right mindset.  It takes hours, a belief that you are a beautiful dancer, when freed up to be just that.

Every woman, regardless age and size, is a natural belly dancer.

A few figure 8’s, some basic shimmies, correct hands and arms, and a definite attitude, and we are all good to go!

Lady Nyo (Teela) with a coin scarf tonight….

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