Words and Lyrics

by punk visionary Richard Hell


Whether he’s rocking or writing, punk icon Richard Hell has always pushed the envelope. Born in Lexington, Kentucky, Hell’s listless spirit first led him to the hallowed ground of CBGB, where he originated the punk trend of ripping his clothes and securing them with safety pins. Not one to rest on his laurels, the ever-evolving bard in black shifted his unique voice, once aimed at crowds full of people and smoke, to the blank page. Below, with Hell’s blessing, we compiled the most erotic poems and provocative love songs from Hot and Cold, one of his many excellent books.


Blank Generation

I was saying let me out of here before I was
even born—it’s such a gamble when you get a face
It’s fascinating to observe what the mirror does
but when I dine it’s for the wall that I set a place

I belong to the blank generation and
I can take it or leave it each time
I belong to the ______ generation but
I can take it or leave it each time

Triangles were falling at the window as the doctor cursed
He was a cartoon long forsaken by the public eye
The nurse adjusted her garters as I breathed my first
The doctor grabbed my throat and yelled, “God’s consolation prize!”


To hold the t.v. to my lips, the air so packed with cash
then carry it up flights of stairs and drop it in the vacant lot
To lose my train of thought and fall into your arms’ tracks
and watch beneath the eyelids every passing dot




I got up in the middle of the night to read
a book when really what I want to do
is sing to you.
To take these words and turn them around
in such a way that they will make you
glad, make you smile to yourself maybe
with your eyes closed, maybe
even gasp, and later
gaze off into nowhere for the pleasure
of remembering the way they made you feel.
I don’t know how, but that’s what I’d like to do
more than anything else is sing through these words to you.


Staring in Her Eyes

I used to lie in my room and just stare
Frustrated eyes flipping pages of air
Gaze after gaze I could see nothing there
I was just a flaw in the scheme
Of everything but nightmarish dreams

No one could stand feeling that way for long
So I chose to regard the whole world as the wrong
And to make my own long assertions in song
I decided I just didn’t care
That I’d look and I could see nothing there

(But now)
I lie there staring in her eyes

I lie there staring in her eyes
I watch her be
The sight I wanted so much to see

Oh let me tell you about a pleasure I’ve found
First you surrender and stop looking around
And then you get the one who you want to lie down
And stare like a corpse in each’s eyes
Till you never want to come alive and rise




I’m sitting naked in this chair at the typewriter. I look down at my cock lying on my balls between my legs. My legs look strong and thick pressed down against the chair. I reach down and hold the balls and penis in my left hand. They are moist and cool. I smell my hand. It’s musty like an old attic trunk. It’s like a warm rain on tired & grimy, skin-covered muscles. All of them exposed. And then when I lightly weigh it and press my thumb around its base I get that feeling like a cocaine rush of breathless impending delight. It starts to firm up and, resting on my left thigh, it is warm and heavy. I reach down again and pull its skin gently and slowly back and forth over the ridge of its head. My face feels slightly flushed now and I feel a little light-headed. I put both hands to it and slide a little forward in my seat. The head looks so big and stretched it’s almost iridescent as the wrinkled pink gives way to skin flattened and stretched as it swells. The enclosed smell of genitals rises very strongly as I point it towards my face and press myself slightly off the chair. It’s arousing to look at because it becomes so much thicker than I’m used to seeing it and looks more naked than any part of the body not just because it’s the most seldom seen but because the skin is so soft and utterly hairless. When it gets really hard it’s most comfortable pointed straight up at the ceiling with me using both hands to pull on and fondle it from the damp balls to the skin pulled onto its head. I press it against my belly and the tip of the head reaches to my navel and the cock looks amazingly potent, thick, and long, reaching into the sac of testicles. I rapidly jerk the skin back and forth over the head. Just before I’m going to come I get that feeling like a channel opening up between my balls and asshole.



I knew she wanted me to fuck her in the ass. She called me up because she knew I wanted to do it. I liked looking at her asshole. She had a large butt though she was tall and thin. And blonde. I turned her over on her belly and pulled apart the two smooth slabs to look and then put my tongue in. It was pink at the top and she was so loose and built in such a way that you could see into the shadowed depths at least three inches. It was clean, hairless, and slick with my saliva. An absolutely perfect receptacle for a cock. It would feel as if you were being sucked on and you’d get to fuck something that wanted to be butt-fucked—that stuck its butt up in the air and its tongue out along the pillow. It tasted sweet, it tasted like sex, like arousal. Her most secret accessible place.


I’d never met her but she wanted me to fuck her in the ass. She knew I’d value it properly. She was offering me the best of herself. When I think of her I think of her face and it is the base of her asshole. I would pull apart the slabs of her butt and look inside and put my tongue in. Her anus was pink at the top and she was so welcoming and built in such a way that you could see three inches into the shadows. It was like a long thin cone, hairless and slippery clean. She was the material whose emptiness beautifully made her asshole possible. It was as if it led all the way out her mouth, where her tongue protruded, her beautiful face its edges. She was inside out. I got it slick with my saliva. It tasted sweet, it was alive, it tasted like sex, like arousal. I put my hard dick against its entrance. I fuck you in the ass.


Your asshole is your personality to me.
You are the material whose emptiness
beautifully makes your asshole possible. Your
asshole is where you end.
I put the head of my hard cock against it and push it in.


Love Comes in Spurts

I was a child
who wanted love that was wild
though tight as slow motion
but crazed with devotion

insane with devotion
a whole other notion
I was fourteen and a half
and it wasn’t no laugh

Love comes in spurts (oh no it hurts)
Love comes in spurts (it hurts)
Love comes in spurts (oh no, cuz)
Love comes in spurts (it always hurts)

I just can’t get wise
to those tragical lies
though I now know the facts
they still cut like an axe

cuz love comes in spurts
in dangerous flirts
and it murders your heart
they didn’t tell you that part

Love comes in spurts
Love comes in spurts
Love comes in spurts
Love comes in spurts

Love comes in spurts
Love comes in spurts
Love comes in spurts
Love comes in spurts