Polyester Books presents: Koraly Dimitriadis vs Ben John Smith

by Horror Sleaze Trash on November 9, 2011

I met Koraly Dimitriadis for the first time when i was reading for Passionate Tongues at Brunswick Hotel.  I was passing out buisness cards for HST, they had a chick holding her tits on the front. I got drunk, did my set and went home. A few days later i got an email from Koraly claiming she enjoyed my poetry and website; but her and a collection of her friends feared i was a sexist. *gulp*  I asked if we could meet at a bar and chew the fat, talk some shit – give me a chance to defend my self.  Im not sure if i totally convinced her of my honorable intentions, but we quickly became friends and enjoyed the same passion for stirring up the pot in the poetry scene and having a laugh at our selves, but mainly i was interested in her ability to access her self truth, which is something i am obsessed with my self.

Together,in the next few months, we conversed, held an interview for 3CR radio station and published a somewhat controversial article on the Overland web site debating if what we were doing should be considered poetry or pornography.  We were feeding from each other.  Her female perceptive of love and sex helped my understanding of relationships and i think (i hope) my frank observations of male point of view also helped her to relate to the simple substance that is the male personality.

Shortly, after many phone calls and sharing of work, Love and Fuck Poems hit the stands.  And i was blown away.  It was solid, gutsy and gentle at the time, more so i knew the words were honest.  I had seen and heard about the situations she had transferred to poem.  I understood where Koraly was coming from and i was (forgive this cliche’) proud that she had managed to do something so genuine.  Especially in relation to the suppression i fear she has encountered through cultural pressures.

Steve Smarts “3 bad boys and a microphone” gig turned into  “3 bad boys aint enough for Koraly” in its second series, after battle cries from Koraly.  The show featured a semi battle between Koraly and I.  My words coming from a mainly positive reflection of love and relationships (i was trying to keep us fellas outta the gutter a little bit – Believe me, Koraly is quite frightening at times) and Koraly with her powerful and often aggressive monologue style poems written to specific men, and in some form, all males.

The success of that night and the feedback we have encountered has brought us to this.  Friday nights battle royal of Love and Fuck Poems and a selection of retorts from my self to be preformed at Polyester Books.  (330 Brunswick Street, Fitzroy, Australia 3065)  I personally feel humbled to not only be a part of the first live reading for Polyester Books new Owners (Adam and Joe) but to be along side and in the throat of a woman i admire, respect and fear.  Maybe i see all females in her, maybe its the high heel jammed in my neck, maybe its Freudian… Regardless, get your ass down on the night at about 7:15 and check out whats going on – and come out afterward to tear Brunswick St bars apart!

“Love and fuck poems” is brave and afraid.  It doesn’t pull a punch and you can see by the rate of its sales that its worth the time from all audiences.

The poem below “You like to fuck the darkness in me” is a perfect example of Koraly’s strength, vulnerability and the main reasons i stand behind her, both as a friend and artist.

All press and promotional photos taken by Art of the State Filmworks, Jenny Poulakos responsible for concept and big thanks to Kaliopi Malamas for hair and makeup.  Below Koraly’s poem is a selection of photographs and out takes from the night of press shooting.

Koraly Dimitriadis

Polyester Books.

You like to fuck the darkness in me

When you hold me I tremble in your arms
but you just want to fuck the darkness in me
When I told you my friend died
I said the pain was so bad I needed sex
You came straight over, and you didn’t speak
and I didn’t want you to
You kissed me, and I cried in your mouth
Then you stopped, and we hugged, tight, and sighed
But then you just wanted to fuck the darkness in me.
I wanted to be held, but you sent me straight to hell
where I want to be – where I, we, belong

We walk the fine line between pleasure and pain
friend or bastard it’s all just the same
‘I love sucking your cunt,’ you said
‘I love fucking you.’
I wanted to be held but you sent me straight to hell
you showed no mercy, your blunt, honest words
marking out the tall walls of whatever this is
‘What are you?’ you asked.
‘Your friend,’ I replied.
‘What are you?’
‘Your friend.’
Then you yanked at my hair, ‘WHAT ARE YOU?’
‘Your fuck buddy.’
‘Good girl.’

You kissed me with an open mouth, with your tongue
You did things to me I never let anyone do
You forced me to suck your cock
I said, ‘I don’t do that,’ but you didn’t care
my vulnerability had the doors open wide
and you came inside
helping yourself to whatever you liked
ignoring things you did not

But don’t you see, I did this all to me
I dictated how it should be
when you ended it with me
said we were too different
and that I wanted more
I should have let you walk out the door
but instead I said, teach me how to fuck without feeling
I need to learn, so I don’t hurt, the same way again

But then my friend died
and my emotions were open wide
and I was telling you how much I love my friend
and you said, ‘You love to love.’
‘No,’ I replied.
‘You love to love.’
‘No, because then you get hurt.’
‘You love to love.’
And then I found myself saying I want us to be free
that I don’t own you and you don’t own me
that life is just about moments and we can just be
You can rest on my hand like a butterfly
and I’ll watch you fly up to the sky
‘Then I’ll treat you right,’ you said,
‘you just have to trust me.’
But what are we? I wanted to ask, but didn’t
‘What do you want me to do?’ you asked.
‘Hold me.’
‘I’m holding you.’
‘Hold me.’
‘I’m holding you.’
‘Stay with me.’
‘No.’
‘I need someone with me.’
‘No, that’s not what you want.’
‘I want us to be friends.’
‘It’s not what you want.’
and you were right,
because the thought of holding your hand
petrifies me more than I can stand
and so, there was nothing more I could say
and I just let you be,
and you, decided to fuck the darkness in me

And I liked it.







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