(My Romantic Life...)
Doctor so not that many stay
Or embraced mommy hot greased finger
Shelter through sleeping you sucker
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Haikubes - haiku 4
(A Dream About...)
Swimming along grass tiger-esque
A last ritual left alternate she
Whispers clever dancing window candy
Swimming along grass tiger-esque
A last ritual left alternate she
Whispers clever dancing window candy
Haikubes - haiku 3
(A Reflection On...)
Every wise gorgeous wild mouthful
Never dreaming for his hard next stay
Have any simple dynamic boy
Every wise gorgeous wild mouthful
Never dreaming for his hard next stay
Have any simple dynamic boy
Haikubes - haiku 2
(A Reflection On...)
Also dead wicked wrong gleeful
But swimming with her heavy last obey
Screwed the balance precious water
Also dead wicked wrong gleeful
But swimming with her heavy last obey
Screwed the balance precious water
Haikubes - haiku 1
(A Birthday Wish...)
One giant wind all those thunder before
Her eyes clever glancing every
Radical inside please no waste it's woman
One giant wind all those thunder before
Her eyes clever glancing every
Radical inside please no waste it's woman
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
for NaNoWriMo - written 11/2008
(this is just a blip of my writing to try and get words on paper to be counted in my 1500/day)
As the words cross my lips…”don’t be childish”…it was then that I realized I was the one misbehaving. I was the one who was throwing a tantrum because I didn’t get my way.
Celestial sounds came from the wind. It was the only thing I could hear. That and the trainsong. My song, the one that was created just for me and for me alone.
The photographs in my head of how things could have been kept me up at night. Wouldn’t leave me alone. Why must I be so dramatic about things?! I consulted my favorite astrologist. What do the stars tell me? How can I focus on bettering my situation? It doesn’t feel like too much to ask. And I sure hope not, as my prayers each night begin and end with the same question, so it seems.
Can I persuade him to follow his own advice? How is it the mirror is so difficult to look at when we are faced with the dilemma of having to avoid hypocrisy? What is it about silence that allows us to hear things that can’t usually be heard? Much less understood. I once had a dream that my teeth were falling out. I later learned that meant I was afraid of losing control. I think it’s interesting when two uncommon events are linked when you would never guess how they are tied, and when you learn how they are mutually joined, it’s often surprising and known all at once. It tickles my funnybone!
It’s a wonder I get anything done at all. I rather enjoy being called a nympho (although nymph and nympho-maniac annoy me). My first fuck called me a nymph. He was the first I ever sucked off too. I didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t care. It was enough just to have the warmth of my mouth on his nerdy little stick. Gulp. I was a swallower! Who would have guessed? I was pleased with his responses so I didn’t care what his status with society was. I was good for him so he was good for me.
It was pointed out to me by another kink, that it is so interesting the twists and turns in ones life, or in my case ups and downs and ins and outs, that we end up as we do. Any change in course and we wouldn’t be where we are right here and now.
I don’t know why she insists on being proud about that mop she wears on her head she calls hair, but she is happy go lucky so who could blame her. She wears way too much rouge so she looks like a clown doll with a bad toupee, but somehow I love her and she found a way into my heart.
Conclusion: “A girl’s gotta pee out here!” I knocked on the door as I yelled. I pounded again. Nothing. There was no answer but I knew that he was in there. I tried again. He must be ignoring me. Or doing a line. Or worse. I was afraid to find out. “What’s it gonna take before you open the damn door?!” Suddenly, the handle turned and you could feel the cold air escape from the bathroom as the door opened softly.
You couldn’t ignore the snoring, that’s why you never let them stay the night. That and the fact that you risk missing your jewelry, cash, and undergarments if you make the wrong choice or take someone home after a heavy night of drinking.
I never met any regrets I didn’t make. Nobody can judge you like you can, so why be so harsh when you don’t deserve to be so mean.
As the words cross my lips…”don’t be childish”…it was then that I realized I was the one misbehaving. I was the one who was throwing a tantrum because I didn’t get my way.
Celestial sounds came from the wind. It was the only thing I could hear. That and the trainsong. My song, the one that was created just for me and for me alone.
The photographs in my head of how things could have been kept me up at night. Wouldn’t leave me alone. Why must I be so dramatic about things?! I consulted my favorite astrologist. What do the stars tell me? How can I focus on bettering my situation? It doesn’t feel like too much to ask. And I sure hope not, as my prayers each night begin and end with the same question, so it seems.
Can I persuade him to follow his own advice? How is it the mirror is so difficult to look at when we are faced with the dilemma of having to avoid hypocrisy? What is it about silence that allows us to hear things that can’t usually be heard? Much less understood. I once had a dream that my teeth were falling out. I later learned that meant I was afraid of losing control. I think it’s interesting when two uncommon events are linked when you would never guess how they are tied, and when you learn how they are mutually joined, it’s often surprising and known all at once. It tickles my funnybone!
It’s a wonder I get anything done at all. I rather enjoy being called a nympho (although nymph and nympho-maniac annoy me). My first fuck called me a nymph. He was the first I ever sucked off too. I didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t care. It was enough just to have the warmth of my mouth on his nerdy little stick. Gulp. I was a swallower! Who would have guessed? I was pleased with his responses so I didn’t care what his status with society was. I was good for him so he was good for me.
It was pointed out to me by another kink, that it is so interesting the twists and turns in ones life, or in my case ups and downs and ins and outs, that we end up as we do. Any change in course and we wouldn’t be where we are right here and now.
I don’t know why she insists on being proud about that mop she wears on her head she calls hair, but she is happy go lucky so who could blame her. She wears way too much rouge so she looks like a clown doll with a bad toupee, but somehow I love her and she found a way into my heart.
Conclusion: “A girl’s gotta pee out here!” I knocked on the door as I yelled. I pounded again. Nothing. There was no answer but I knew that he was in there. I tried again. He must be ignoring me. Or doing a line. Or worse. I was afraid to find out. “What’s it gonna take before you open the damn door?!” Suddenly, the handle turned and you could feel the cold air escape from the bathroom as the door opened softly.
You couldn’t ignore the snoring, that’s why you never let them stay the night. That and the fact that you risk missing your jewelry, cash, and undergarments if you make the wrong choice or take someone home after a heavy night of drinking.
I never met any regrets I didn’t make. Nobody can judge you like you can, so why be so harsh when you don’t deserve to be so mean.
for NaNoWriMo - written 11/2008
(this is just a blip of my writing to try and get words on paper to be counted in my 1500/day)
Teamwork, doesn’t mean that you all have to be working together at the same time all the time. There is a value in doing your task independently on your own and bringing your cog effort back to the system for efficiency.
That’s the hardest lesson to learn…that you won’t get attention unless you have pleased another. It has to be on their terms. You ultimately don’t get to matter.
Teamwork, doesn’t mean that you all have to be working together at the same time all the time. There is a value in doing your task independently on your own and bringing your cog effort back to the system for efficiency.
That’s the hardest lesson to learn…that you won’t get attention unless you have pleased another. It has to be on their terms. You ultimately don’t get to matter.
for NaNoWriMo - written 11/2008
(this is just a blip of my writing to try and get words on paper to be counted in my 1500/day)
Teamwork, doesn’t mean that you all have to be working together at the same time all the time. There is a value in doing your task independently on your own and bringing your cog effort back to the system for efficiency.
That’s the hardest lesson to learn…that you won’t get attention unless you have pleased another. It has to be on their terms. You ultimately don’t get to matter.
Teamwork, doesn’t mean that you all have to be working together at the same time all the time. There is a value in doing your task independently on your own and bringing your cog effort back to the system for efficiency.
That’s the hardest lesson to learn…that you won’t get attention unless you have pleased another. It has to be on their terms. You ultimately don’t get to matter.
for NaNoWriMo - written 11/2008
(this is just a blip of my writing to try and get words on paper to be counted in my 1500/day)
The music sways the words from my head, like a snake mused out of their basket by a flute and a to and fro hat. I empty like an Aquarian pouring water from their arms at side. Not forgetting one drop, just remembering each and every one.
The music sways the words from my head, like a snake mused out of their basket by a flute and a to and fro hat. I empty like an Aquarian pouring water from their arms at side. Not forgetting one drop, just remembering each and every one.
Non-Friend (followed by) Non-Friend to Friend
(poem in parenthesis written by Jessica McCallum, a friend of mine)
(I thought she was my friend
she considers me acquaintance
I offered my support
she tells me she needs distance
offended I feel
unsafe to reveal
I'd hoped it was
real... friendship
she doesn't believe
no matter my plea
that who she sees
is really me
she justifies
attached to her lies
I can see in her eyes
we're not allies
saddened I am
it feels like a slam
doesn't she know
who I really am
Damn!
I tried to amend
but she wouldn't attend
and I cannot pretend
real friendship)
*********************************************
(poem below written in response to Jessica's poem, above)
she considered me a friend
and balked at its synonym: acquaintance
her support felt like judgment
and besides, even friends can need distance
I didn’t intend to offend
safety first is the trend
hoping to try again
honestly speaking... give me more time
I do believe – anything is possible
please give it a chance
by it, I mean me
I am only who I am
I owe no explanation
and I will tell no lies
what you see in my eyes
is fear – who are my allies?
I give a damn
I won’t slam
the door on you
we are one
Woman!
amends are in works
we iron out quirks
pretending is for jerks
we have real friendship
(I thought she was my friend
she considers me acquaintance
I offered my support
she tells me she needs distance
offended I feel
unsafe to reveal
I'd hoped it was
real... friendship
she doesn't believe
no matter my plea
that who she sees
is really me
she justifies
attached to her lies
I can see in her eyes
we're not allies
saddened I am
it feels like a slam
doesn't she know
who I really am
Damn!
I tried to amend
but she wouldn't attend
and I cannot pretend
real friendship)
*********************************************
(poem below written in response to Jessica's poem, above)
she considered me a friend
and balked at its synonym: acquaintance
her support felt like judgment
and besides, even friends can need distance
I didn’t intend to offend
safety first is the trend
hoping to try again
honestly speaking... give me more time
I do believe – anything is possible
please give it a chance
by it, I mean me
I am only who I am
I owe no explanation
and I will tell no lies
what you see in my eyes
is fear – who are my allies?
I give a damn
I won’t slam
the door on you
we are one
Woman!
amends are in works
we iron out quirks
pretending is for jerks
we have real friendship
Tempted and Distracted From Life
(written about October 2010)
You had me at “Good Morning, Sunshine”, when I realized I was embarrassed to wonder if you heard me snoring in his cab. A birthday night out. I tried to compete for your attention with the lovely and limber ladies of the stage by taking a dollar bill from you to share in our appreciation of their beauty. I tried to draw you in, though I don’t recall you reacting to my head upon your shoulder - not that night anyway. Perhaps you were afraid of the inevitable addiction to the fact that I can see your soul with a hungry look into your eyes. Oh those eyes.
A parking lot project. Just a lock of hair off your neck and over your ears. And one off the top, for good measure (next time tell her three fingers long…)…revealing your masculine: face, eyes, chin, jaw, and mouth. Oh the shape of that mouth. At my house. There were smoothies to be made, hooting owl wisdom to ponder, and silly music on the keyboard, as my spirits danced with the rhythm of stolen glances and somewhat awkward silences. One beer too many had me requesting marital relief from hurdling too many bones spilled out of my commitment closet. “Your Taxi Is Here” was just the beginning of a blur of conversations pushed out in haste by the tips of my shaking fingers. Pursued at inopportune times – in the bathroom, in my lap, or in the dark. And always on silent.
“Slow down!” I would think aloud in your presence. Though who really wants to stop a locomotive filled with sweet everythings?! Fast paced speech working around the titanium ring I could almost bite through with my suppressions. Sounds of saliva sucked from a lip corner as words like throat and more are formed make my legs wiggle involuntarily. How do you seem to do it? If lust is 98 percent mental and 2 percent pushing the right buttons – then I reluctantly admit that I can’t get you out of my head or keep your desires from flipping my switch. To on. Onto. Into. Inside out and upside down. In a box and spun around. If I’m in here and you’re out there. How do I get out, if I were to dare? Asphyxiated by my own choices and wishing…wishing…that…I had a crystal ball…
You had me at “Good Morning, Sunshine”, when I realized I was embarrassed to wonder if you heard me snoring in his cab. A birthday night out. I tried to compete for your attention with the lovely and limber ladies of the stage by taking a dollar bill from you to share in our appreciation of their beauty. I tried to draw you in, though I don’t recall you reacting to my head upon your shoulder - not that night anyway. Perhaps you were afraid of the inevitable addiction to the fact that I can see your soul with a hungry look into your eyes. Oh those eyes.
A parking lot project. Just a lock of hair off your neck and over your ears. And one off the top, for good measure (next time tell her three fingers long…)…revealing your masculine: face, eyes, chin, jaw, and mouth. Oh the shape of that mouth. At my house. There were smoothies to be made, hooting owl wisdom to ponder, and silly music on the keyboard, as my spirits danced with the rhythm of stolen glances and somewhat awkward silences. One beer too many had me requesting marital relief from hurdling too many bones spilled out of my commitment closet. “Your Taxi Is Here” was just the beginning of a blur of conversations pushed out in haste by the tips of my shaking fingers. Pursued at inopportune times – in the bathroom, in my lap, or in the dark. And always on silent.
“Slow down!” I would think aloud in your presence. Though who really wants to stop a locomotive filled with sweet everythings?! Fast paced speech working around the titanium ring I could almost bite through with my suppressions. Sounds of saliva sucked from a lip corner as words like throat and more are formed make my legs wiggle involuntarily. How do you seem to do it? If lust is 98 percent mental and 2 percent pushing the right buttons – then I reluctantly admit that I can’t get you out of my head or keep your desires from flipping my switch. To on. Onto. Into. Inside out and upside down. In a box and spun around. If I’m in here and you’re out there. How do I get out, if I were to dare? Asphyxiated by my own choices and wishing…wishing…that…I had a crystal ball…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
