For you it is comfort
familiar
safe
warm
For me it is growth
exotic
danger
storm
And so we ride the waves
Travel the roads
Spend our days
And so we live our lives
Together forever
But my soul is deprived
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Monday, November 5, 2007
Freedom is to be free of poverty
to be free of illness
to be free of hunger
to be free of fear
Freedom is the ability to be yourself
the ability to view the world
the ability to acquire knowledge
the ability to drop to your knees in thanksgiving
the ability to rise up against injustice
Freedom is dance
is movement
is music
is prose
is art
is difficult
is a right
Freedom is my responsibility
to be free of illness
to be free of hunger
to be free of fear
Freedom is the ability to be yourself
the ability to view the world
the ability to acquire knowledge
the ability to drop to your knees in thanksgiving
the ability to rise up against injustice
Freedom is dance
is movement
is music
is prose
is art
is difficult
is a right
Freedom is my responsibility
The choreography of life
Forward two steps
Your partner follows
Move in as a close as you can
And your partner turns away
We spin
Get dizzy
We jump
And are tired
We dance
And hurt
Wonder when
The dance will end
The steps of life
The choreography of love
The pain of continuing
You’re body aches
And you wish to stop
But if you don’t dance
Someone else will
So you go on
And in the end
Who choreographed all
Who laid out your steps
Who watched
Who waited their turn
to dance with you
and does it matter
as we spin and fall
does it matter
that we danced at all
Forward two steps
Your partner follows
Move in as a close as you can
And your partner turns away
We spin
Get dizzy
We jump
And are tired
We dance
And hurt
Wonder when
The dance will end
The steps of life
The choreography of love
The pain of continuing
You’re body aches
And you wish to stop
But if you don’t dance
Someone else will
So you go on
And in the end
Who choreographed all
Who laid out your steps
Who watched
Who waited their turn
to dance with you
and does it matter
as we spin and fall
does it matter
that we danced at all
Friday, November 2, 2007
And now the time has come
to drape in colors of the sun
in red and gold
my life unfolds
You thought my luster
was full and green
now you know
I am more than I seem
For a short while
the demure child
is wild
Bending in the breeze
I pretend to be naive
But I know the intention
of the north winds descension
She undresses me
Teasing touching
stripping ripping
layer after layer
til' nothing's there
Leaving me naked
exposed
my true form unfolds
Waiting now
for the first night
to be dressed
in a gown of white
to drape in colors of the sun
in red and gold
my life unfolds
You thought my luster
was full and green
now you know
I am more than I seem
For a short while
the demure child
is wild
Bending in the breeze
I pretend to be naive
But I know the intention
of the north winds descension
She undresses me
Teasing touching
stripping ripping
layer after layer
til' nothing's there
Leaving me naked
exposed
my true form unfolds
Waiting now
for the first night
to be dressed
in a gown of white
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
and as we lie there
you say,
i just want you to be happy
you not the first to say it
just this week
so many have asked me
are you
are you happy
what than
what is it
what stirs your soul
and i tell you what it will take
what really makes me happy
others are willing
but it is you I desire
and you ask
if can I can be happy
by just being comfortable
listening to the words
i know you can
i know i can't
and who would had thought
a small bit of pillow talk
could reveal so much
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Monday, October 8, 2007
As I stood in the vestibule of the Church, one-hundred-and-one things raced through my mind.
I peeked in the door, looked at the pews, and saw they were full.
The day had gone smoothly. It was, as a matter of fact, uneventful.
So much so, there’s not much of anything to remember.
My two best friends were there.
“He is a nice guy” I kept hearing
But in my head, as I stood there in my off-white dress, flowers in hand, I could only think of what had happened six moths prior. The events that brought me 20 feet before the alter.
"The dinner was good. "
"Yeah, it’s a nice place."
The waiter brought two small cordial glass of liquor to the table.
“Oh how nice”, I said out loud
“I don’t drink”, he said
“Ever?” I questions.
“Well not much; and nothing hard.”
The conversation whet on, and I said something about dating, making it clear that this was just a date. Don’t expect anything serious.
“I don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Date”
“Then what is this?” I snickered
“Well, I mean I only date exclusively”
He continued to talk about how dating was just a prelude to marriage. It had no other purpose. He said something about church, I think. He went on. It was the most his mouth was open all night, other than when he was eating that shrimp. It really bothered me, the way he chewed with his mouth open when he ate the seafood… It was animal like… but other than that, nothing about him really bothered me. Nothing about him fazed me one way or another.
He was good looking but not handsome. Mild in appearance with dark hair and blue eyes. Clean cut, with a thick head of hair and warm smile.
As he continued to talk and lecture me on the sins of dating, my mind arrived at the cover of my little black book.
I remember using my almost photographic memory going through the pages as he continued his auditory on the virtues of marriage.
A, B, C… no, no one special….. H… hmmm there is that H, well I haven’t heard from him in a while. Besides, if H calls, I’ll just break up with this guy. It’s easy enough. J, K, L … no. On to NMOPQRS… nothing at all. TUVWXY, There is Z. He is very sweet. But nothing monumental.
As I regained focus, there was a pause from the other side of the table. Crap! What was that he said? Was I suppose to respond?
I did what ever girl is trained from birth to do in this situation. I smiled, nodded and asked him a sports question.
He continued to ramble on. . It was at this moment that I said to myself , well, I don’t have anything better going on, I guess I could date him exclusively.
Oh if I had only known it would come to this.
To the church
The music
The families.
I guess I still had nothing better going on.
And the door opened.
And H walked in.
He wore a dark suit, with a white shirt and thin black tie and a hat… he always wore a hat.
There was a melancholy look on his face and a gift in his hand. My heart jumped as he walked through the door.
Sure I sent him the invitation.
However, I didn’t expect him to attend.
I just wanted to let him know I had given up.
I just wanted him to know I was moving on.
I just wanted him to save me from myself .
There isn’t much in life that I am sure of, but there is one thing I do know --
I know that if he would have asked me to leave with him, I would have gone.
"Hi" was all I could muster.
"Hey" was his response.
He walked in with the swagger of James dean, the smell of Eternity, and the sun on his face. Me? I frozen.
I wanted to faint.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t.
He walked in the church.
Walked away from me.
I stood there, alone again.
I felt more alone then I had ever did in my entire life.
There was a rumble in the crowd.
My friends, my good friends, they saw him. They saw him walk in.
I overheard it, I couldn’t believe it.
“Do you think he’ll object?”
Object?
Could that happen?
Would he do that for me?
The ceremony went on.
On without a hitch.
Not a word was said.
The only words heard were “I do”
I know, if he would have objected,
I know,
I would have run out of the church.
I would have run fast.
I would have been gone.
But, he didn’t say a word.
He didn’t but I did.
I said two words.
"I do"
Did I say them for spite?
No.
Once again, I had nothing better going on.
Looking back,
I should have run anyway.
That was 15 years ago, I never told him
15 years and no one ever knew.
Looking at my life, in many ways, I have become weaker not stronger.
I know the spontaneity of youth has been taken over by the mundane responsibility of adulthood.
I know that if laid a stone at my window, I would not be able to leave.
A part of me will always desire to be with him.
He’ll never appear.
And for the rest of my life, when I think back on that day in June, I wish I would have had the strength---the strength to turn away from the alter.
In my life it is not what I have done that I regret;
I only regret what I have failed to do.
I peeked in the door, looked at the pews, and saw they were full.
The day had gone smoothly. It was, as a matter of fact, uneventful.
So much so, there’s not much of anything to remember.
My two best friends were there.
“He is a nice guy” I kept hearing
But in my head, as I stood there in my off-white dress, flowers in hand, I could only think of what had happened six moths prior. The events that brought me 20 feet before the alter.
"The dinner was good. "
"Yeah, it’s a nice place."
The waiter brought two small cordial glass of liquor to the table.
“Oh how nice”, I said out loud
“I don’t drink”, he said
“Ever?” I questions.
“Well not much; and nothing hard.”
The conversation whet on, and I said something about dating, making it clear that this was just a date. Don’t expect anything serious.
“I don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Date”
“Then what is this?” I snickered
“Well, I mean I only date exclusively”
He continued to talk about how dating was just a prelude to marriage. It had no other purpose. He said something about church, I think. He went on. It was the most his mouth was open all night, other than when he was eating that shrimp. It really bothered me, the way he chewed with his mouth open when he ate the seafood… It was animal like… but other than that, nothing about him really bothered me. Nothing about him fazed me one way or another.
He was good looking but not handsome. Mild in appearance with dark hair and blue eyes. Clean cut, with a thick head of hair and warm smile.
As he continued to talk and lecture me on the sins of dating, my mind arrived at the cover of my little black book.
I remember using my almost photographic memory going through the pages as he continued his auditory on the virtues of marriage.
A, B, C… no, no one special….. H… hmmm there is that H, well I haven’t heard from him in a while. Besides, if H calls, I’ll just break up with this guy. It’s easy enough. J, K, L … no. On to NMOPQRS… nothing at all. TUVWXY, There is Z. He is very sweet. But nothing monumental.
As I regained focus, there was a pause from the other side of the table. Crap! What was that he said? Was I suppose to respond?
I did what ever girl is trained from birth to do in this situation. I smiled, nodded and asked him a sports question.
He continued to ramble on. . It was at this moment that I said to myself , well, I don’t have anything better going on, I guess I could date him exclusively.
Oh if I had only known it would come to this.
To the church
The music
The families.
I guess I still had nothing better going on.
And the door opened.
And H walked in.
He wore a dark suit, with a white shirt and thin black tie and a hat… he always wore a hat.
There was a melancholy look on his face and a gift in his hand. My heart jumped as he walked through the door.
Sure I sent him the invitation.
However, I didn’t expect him to attend.
I just wanted to let him know I had given up.
I just wanted him to know I was moving on.
I just wanted him to save me from myself .
There isn’t much in life that I am sure of, but there is one thing I do know --
I know that if he would have asked me to leave with him, I would have gone.
"Hi" was all I could muster.
"Hey" was his response.
He walked in with the swagger of James dean, the smell of Eternity, and the sun on his face. Me? I frozen.
I wanted to faint.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t.
He walked in the church.
Walked away from me.
I stood there, alone again.
I felt more alone then I had ever did in my entire life.
There was a rumble in the crowd.
My friends, my good friends, they saw him. They saw him walk in.
I overheard it, I couldn’t believe it.
“Do you think he’ll object?”
Object?
Could that happen?
Would he do that for me?
The ceremony went on.
On without a hitch.
Not a word was said.
The only words heard were “I do”
I know, if he would have objected,
I know,
I would have run out of the church.
I would have run fast.
I would have been gone.
But, he didn’t say a word.
He didn’t but I did.
I said two words.
"I do"
Did I say them for spite?
No.
Once again, I had nothing better going on.
Looking back,
I should have run anyway.
That was 15 years ago, I never told him
15 years and no one ever knew.
Looking at my life, in many ways, I have become weaker not stronger.
I know the spontaneity of youth has been taken over by the mundane responsibility of adulthood.
I know that if laid a stone at my window, I would not be able to leave.
A part of me will always desire to be with him.
He’ll never appear.
And for the rest of my life, when I think back on that day in June, I wish I would have had the strength---the strength to turn away from the alter.
In my life it is not what I have done that I regret;
I only regret what I have failed to do.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
The Grip
Sadness holds me
This life
This life that should be filled with splendor and gay
This life begs for sleep
A sleep so deep
That it will never see another day
This life
This life that should be filled with splendor and gay
This life begs for sleep
A sleep so deep
That it will never see another day
Friday, September 21, 2007
Indigent
How dare you
invade my dreams
How dare you
burden my mind
Obsessed
You’ve possessed my consciousness
You’ve entangled my emotions
My thoughts are of you alone
Nothing else has meaning
Devil
Captured by your inveiglement
You draw upon my secret sinfulness
My passion
My lust
Seduced
I am possessed by the thought of your touch
I long to burn
To burn with you
To let you burn inside me
Surrendered
I was pompous
I was pretentious
I am now defeated
Consume me
How dare you
invade my dreams
How dare you
burden my mind
Obsessed
You’ve possessed my consciousness
You’ve entangled my emotions
My thoughts are of you alone
Nothing else has meaning
Devil
Captured by your inveiglement
You draw upon my secret sinfulness
My passion
My lust
Seduced
I am possessed by the thought of your touch
I long to burn
To burn with you
To let you burn inside me
Surrendered
I was pompous
I was pretentious
I am now defeated
Consume me
Monday, September 10, 2007
Sister
sister, are you happy?
sister, are you okay?
sister, do you feel safe at home?
that mister, he is trouble
that mister, he is sinister
that mister, he makes you feel so all alone
Sister, Ive been watching
sister, Ive been thinking
Sister, I've been worried but i don't know what to do
sister, do you love him
sister, do you need him
sister, could leave him if you needed to?
sister i could help you
sister i could hold you
sister i could raise you up again
let me, let me help you
let me, let me be there
sister, let me in to be your friend
sister, are you okay?
sister, do you feel safe at home?
that mister, he is trouble
that mister, he is sinister
that mister, he makes you feel so all alone
Sister, Ive been watching
sister, Ive been thinking
Sister, I've been worried but i don't know what to do
sister, do you love him
sister, do you need him
sister, could leave him if you needed to?
sister i could help you
sister i could hold you
sister i could raise you up again
let me, let me help you
let me, let me be there
sister, let me in to be your friend
Friday, September 7, 2007
The X Factor
My dear blog friend Mom the Minx, asked some very interesting questions about past relationships. It got me to thinking.
The X factor
Do you still talk to your x?
Do you still consider yourselves friends?
Would you come to their rescue?
Would they come to yours?
Loaded questions.
I guess the first thing I have to ask is what constitutes and ex?
Were we married?
Engaged?
Fuck Buddies?
Friends with benefits?
Dating?
One night stand?
A kiss?
A wish?
Because there are so many levels to relationships, if I am to be totally honest with myself it depends on the level of commitment, not the level of attraction.
As I ask myself this question I can honestly say, I looked over the list. If it is either of the top two, just forget it--- I'm not going there with them again!
I am not friends with my ex-husband (s), nor am I friends with any man who has given me ring and I actually said yes.
I could still talk with these people. I could imagine running into them and having a conversation. But when I think about “those” people, truth be told, the longer we were together as a couple, the less I liked them, period.
The more I found out about these men, the less I wanted to be friends with them in general.
No really bad break-ups, not for me anyway. I just didn’t like them any more--- grew out of the relationships. Reasons? Hmmm.
Various.
Drinking (them, not me)
Cheating (me, not them)
I didn’t want to be someone’s mom or bank account or excuse.
Yep, that's about right
Then we move down the list.
There some friends I have, that in our younger days, we took our relationships into a different direction.
Yes, today, even though we have been more than friends in the past, today I would die for these guys. Not because we slept together. I almost think doing that just kind of confirmed that we were not ment to be a couple. It is that we are friends. There are only a few people I feel this way about (male or female) But yes, some of those friends were more than that for a brief time.
We don’t talk about those moments. And most people who love us are mature enough and smart enough to know not to ask. That is one of the great things about being all grown up, you don’t so much worry about how the person has gotten to you—you are just glad they did.
Which brings me to the last few… the wishes and the kisses. These are the hardest for me.
There are not many of these in my life. Very few as a matter of fact. But these are the ones that still haunt me. These are the guys who make me dream that I am more than I am.
These men are my deep hidden and forbidden desires. We were friends, maybe lovers, maybe it was one date, or a glance across a room.
These few men stir my soul. These few still make me think what if. They don’t pop into my mind or my life very often....
However,
Every once in a while, there is a dream
Every once in a while there is an email
Every once in a while a friend will say “ I ran into him and he asked how you were”
Every once in a while I come across an old picture, and I’ll linger there.
not friends, not lovers, just memories and dreams
The X factor
Do you still talk to your x?
Do you still consider yourselves friends?
Would you come to their rescue?
Would they come to yours?
Loaded questions.
I guess the first thing I have to ask is what constitutes and ex?
Were we married?
Engaged?
Fuck Buddies?
Friends with benefits?
Dating?
One night stand?
A kiss?
A wish?
Because there are so many levels to relationships, if I am to be totally honest with myself it depends on the level of commitment, not the level of attraction.
As I ask myself this question I can honestly say, I looked over the list. If it is either of the top two, just forget it--- I'm not going there with them again!
I am not friends with my ex-husband (s), nor am I friends with any man who has given me ring and I actually said yes.
I could still talk with these people. I could imagine running into them and having a conversation. But when I think about “those” people, truth be told, the longer we were together as a couple, the less I liked them, period.
The more I found out about these men, the less I wanted to be friends with them in general.
No really bad break-ups, not for me anyway. I just didn’t like them any more--- grew out of the relationships. Reasons? Hmmm.
Various.
Drinking (them, not me)
Cheating (me, not them)
I didn’t want to be someone’s mom or bank account or excuse.
Yep, that's about right
Then we move down the list.
There some friends I have, that in our younger days, we took our relationships into a different direction.
Yes, today, even though we have been more than friends in the past, today I would die for these guys. Not because we slept together. I almost think doing that just kind of confirmed that we were not ment to be a couple. It is that we are friends. There are only a few people I feel this way about (male or female) But yes, some of those friends were more than that for a brief time.
We don’t talk about those moments. And most people who love us are mature enough and smart enough to know not to ask. That is one of the great things about being all grown up, you don’t so much worry about how the person has gotten to you—you are just glad they did.
Which brings me to the last few… the wishes and the kisses. These are the hardest for me.
There are not many of these in my life. Very few as a matter of fact. But these are the ones that still haunt me. These are the guys who make me dream that I am more than I am.
These men are my deep hidden and forbidden desires. We were friends, maybe lovers, maybe it was one date, or a glance across a room.
These few men stir my soul. These few still make me think what if. They don’t pop into my mind or my life very often....
However,
Every once in a while, there is a dream
Every once in a while there is an email
Every once in a while a friend will say “ I ran into him and he asked how you were”
Every once in a while I come across an old picture, and I’ll linger there.
not friends, not lovers, just memories and dreams
Friday, August 24, 2007
Warrior No More
Days not so long past
Days of battle
Days of deliverance
Days and nights when my fight was strong
My courage was that of a fool who knew no better
I wasn’t a soldier
I was a warrior
I would not race into battle at the command of another
I would battle for the cause
I would battle for justice
For honor
For love
What happened to my will?
What happened to my fight?
It was that smell of burring flesh that once meant victory
And glory
But now it brings no satisfaction
There is no honor in my triumph
Oh, the will to fight is there
It is powerful
It is strong
But it is anger
And malice
And envy
And pity
Because of my betrayal to my soul
I lay down my spear and sword.
I am discussed with who I've become
The battle was everything to me
But there is no truth left to fight for
No good can come of my aggressions
I only wish my enemies would find me
Would kill me
So that my shame is not known
I was once a warrior
No more
Days of battle
Days of deliverance
Days and nights when my fight was strong
My courage was that of a fool who knew no better
I wasn’t a soldier
I was a warrior
I would not race into battle at the command of another
I would battle for the cause
I would battle for justice
For honor
For love
What happened to my will?
What happened to my fight?
It was that smell of burring flesh that once meant victory
And glory
But now it brings no satisfaction
There is no honor in my triumph
Oh, the will to fight is there
It is powerful
It is strong
But it is anger
And malice
And envy
And pity
Because of my betrayal to my soul
I lay down my spear and sword.
I am discussed with who I've become
The battle was everything to me
But there is no truth left to fight for
No good can come of my aggressions
I only wish my enemies would find me
Would kill me
So that my shame is not known
I was once a warrior
No more
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
The one that got away
In my dreams
You’re so real
And the memory of you
Is so perfect
It makes me wish
I could sleep forever
Your dark hair
Your bright eyes
The smile that years ago warmed me to my toes
I know it's not real
I know you are not the man of my dreams
But oh if you were
I would have built a city for you
Gold and silver
Brandy and perfume
You would have wanted for nothing
You would have been a god
My god
It’s not who you were
It’s not who I am
But the idea of it all fills my dreams
still to this day
Your soft smooth skin
Your strong hands
The idea of an ideal
Still ‘til this day
Haunts me
and my dreams
And inevitably
Makes me smile
You’re so real
And the memory of you
Is so perfect
It makes me wish
I could sleep forever
Your dark hair
Your bright eyes
The smile that years ago warmed me to my toes
I know it's not real
I know you are not the man of my dreams
But oh if you were
I would have built a city for you
Gold and silver
Brandy and perfume
You would have wanted for nothing
You would have been a god
My god
It’s not who you were
It’s not who I am
But the idea of it all fills my dreams
still to this day
Your soft smooth skin
Your strong hands
The idea of an ideal
Still ‘til this day
Haunts me
and my dreams
And inevitably
Makes me smile
Monday, July 16, 2007
what i long for most is a first touch
place your fingertips upon my silken skin
press your warmth against me
touch me
the first kiss
the softness of your lips
the firmness in your embrace
explore me
let me devour you
rubbing deep
breathing heavy
the end is always close
let's make the beginning just begin
let's pretend it will never end
place your fingertips upon my silken skin
press your warmth against me
touch me
the first kiss
the softness of your lips
the firmness in your embrace
explore me
let me devour you
rubbing deep
breathing heavy
the end is always close
let's make the beginning just begin
let's pretend it will never end
Monday, June 18, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
What holds more value
to be loved
or to be respected
what is more important in life
what we do
or how we do
what we do
when this is over
will it matter
when my time has come
will anyone care
will any one utter my name
will anyone dream of me
i dreamt of her again last night
she was right by me
we were in the old house
when she held my hand
i felt the touch
how cold it was
her hands were always cold
the skin was smooth
but the lines were deep
when she leaned into kiss me
she disappeared inside of me
I absorbed her
and that is where she stays
merged with me
forever part of me
dream of me this way
to be loved
or to be respected
what is more important in life
what we do
or how we do
what we do
when this is over
will it matter
when my time has come
will anyone care
will any one utter my name
will anyone dream of me
i dreamt of her again last night
she was right by me
we were in the old house
when she held my hand
i felt the touch
how cold it was
her hands were always cold
the skin was smooth
but the lines were deep
when she leaned into kiss me
she disappeared inside of me
I absorbed her
and that is where she stays
merged with me
forever part of me
dream of me this way
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
I feel as if it has all been said before
I sit in the dark
Want
The things I desire are elusive
There is emptiness
Cold
A touch should bring passion
Not resentment
Anger
How can you lay next to someone who worships you
And feel fully alone
Silence
There are others who long to be beside you
Who would take his place
Deception
Would you trade one pain for another
Would the substitution satisfy
Despondent
A barren heart a
A lush mind
and too many hours in a day
I sit in the dark
Want
The things I desire are elusive
There is emptiness
Cold
A touch should bring passion
Not resentment
Anger
How can you lay next to someone who worships you
And feel fully alone
Silence
There are others who long to be beside you
Who would take his place
Deception
Would you trade one pain for another
Would the substitution satisfy
Despondent
A barren heart a
A lush mind
and too many hours in a day
Monday, May 21, 2007
things i love
Once upon a time
On a blog not so far away, Dan read a post of mine. This post talked about things that really .... well the picture that captioned the post was that of a bloody knife.
Ya, things that make me mad, or otherwise fucking disgust me.
So anyway, in the comment, back a long time ago, this guy Dan being a positive sort of guy, asked me to write about things I love.
I did write a few things on that other blog, but there are a few thing I just can't put there, for fear of retribution --- Just ask Dannypleasedontgo -- who's link I cant even give you 'cause it is now set to private do to his work situation.
On a blog not so far away, Dan read a post of mine. This post talked about things that really .... well the picture that captioned the post was that of a bloody knife.
Ya, things that make me mad, or otherwise fucking disgust me.
So anyway, in the comment, back a long time ago, this guy Dan being a positive sort of guy, asked me to write about things I love.
I did write a few things on that other blog, but there are a few thing I just can't put there, for fear of retribution --- Just ask Dannypleasedontgo -- who's link I cant even give you 'cause it is now set to private do to his work situation.
So, here are a few of the things i love... sorry it's all about sex
THINGS I LOVE
THINGS I LOVE
I love to ware tight jean, the kind the rub against me and stimulate me when I walk.
I love riding an old motorcycle that vibrates to high hell, I love the way the bike feels between my legs and how I have to control every muscle in my 125# body to keep the bad boy up.
I love to ware my glowing necklace with a low cut shirt-- because men then have an excuse to look at my breasts
I love beautiful woman. The kind that are beautiful inside and out. Not the classic beauty -- but the beauty that walks with confidence into a room. I love talking with them and smiling at them and making them feel uncomfortable.
I love when a sexy man leans in close to me and talks softly in my ear.
I love when I can still smell his cologne after he walks away
Actually, I love to pass a man who's cologne reminds me of some one I had a great encounter with.
I love to be shaved by my partner
I love to flirt online with witty articulate people-- men mostly-- woman don't seem to want to flirt with me. I think they think I'm a man.
I love the way (most) gay men dance.
I love it when a man out of my league finds me attractive and pays attention to me in a crowd.
I have to admit, I cleaned this up pretty well! You should have read the first draft
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
please don't be too attached
please don't cry
saying good bye will be so hard
keep a good distance
keep your wits about you
remember nothing here is forever
we have had our time
we felt the breeze and the sun
I watched little things take your breath way
I am grateful we had this time
but things die
things end
and even that which exists through eternity
still changes
considered that the most solemn and faithful human love is still fleeting
still just a feeling
so let me go
release me hand
and in your heart
know the scar to the right of what is good
and to the left of forever
is the rememberence of me
please don't cry
saying good bye will be so hard
keep a good distance
keep your wits about you
remember nothing here is forever
we have had our time
we felt the breeze and the sun
I watched little things take your breath way
I am grateful we had this time
but things die
things end
and even that which exists through eternity
still changes
considered that the most solemn and faithful human love is still fleeting
still just a feeling
so let me go
release me hand
and in your heart
know the scar to the right of what is good
and to the left of forever
is the rememberence of me
Monday, May 14, 2007
Self examination
Self exploration
Who am I?
I am not who I want to be
I am not what they expect of me
Fear
Apprehension
Unwillingness to really be
Unsatisfied with the person inside my skin
Unable to admit it out loud
Fall
Just let go
Fall fully
Fall deep
Fly
To let go
to fall
is to fly
allowing myself
to be me
allowing myself
to be consumed by it all
and see where it goes
to see if it ends
or it just begins from there
not conforming
not denying
not doing things half way
not holding on to the past
or to other's ideas
willing to admit
and just be me
Self exploration
Who am I?
I am not who I want to be
I am not what they expect of me
Fear
Apprehension
Unwillingness to really be
Unsatisfied with the person inside my skin
Unable to admit it out loud
Fall
Just let go
Fall fully
Fall deep
Fly
To let go
to fall
is to fly
allowing myself
to be me
allowing myself
to be consumed by it all
and see where it goes
to see if it ends
or it just begins from there
not conforming
not denying
not doing things half way
not holding on to the past
or to other's ideas
willing to admit
and just be me
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
I wish i had your talent
To create
To express
I wish you had my vision
To dream
Not just to see
But to understand
What a cruel creator
To give one gift without the other
And as you crossed the stage
Your eyes didn't just sparkle
they radiated light
as if light was something you alone possessed
And the creator does give abundantly
If we are only willing to search
To create
To express
I wish you had my vision
To dream
Not just to see
But to understand
What a cruel creator
To give one gift without the other
And as you crossed the stage
Your eyes didn't just sparkle
they radiated light
as if light was something you alone possessed
And the creator does give abundantly
If we are only willing to search
Sunday, May 6, 2007
a moment of humility
I have not done this here. I have made this space about me and my dark thoughts. About my secrets. About my fantasies and dreams-- both fulfilled and unfulfilled.
Today I will venture somewhere else. You see, someone I know in the blog world is questioning herself. She is feeling, if I am reading things right, like I do most of the time. She is emotional, & unsatisfied and yet she spends her time making those around her feel worthy to be on the planet. I am one of the later-- she has linked me, and because of this some wonderful people have read my bullshit and say they care anyway. She has helped me to feel better about myself.
Those that "know" spew out words to her and cause her negative emotions that are not of her--- but of the world... and she is too good for that in my opinion.
This beautiful woman is ~d. I wish I would could meet her, but for now it is not meant to be. All I can do now is thank her and link her and let you know you should tell her she is totally sexy and rocks!!!
Today I will venture somewhere else. You see, someone I know in the blog world is questioning herself. She is feeling, if I am reading things right, like I do most of the time. She is emotional, & unsatisfied and yet she spends her time making those around her feel worthy to be on the planet. I am one of the later-- she has linked me, and because of this some wonderful people have read my bullshit and say they care anyway. She has helped me to feel better about myself.
Those that "know" spew out words to her and cause her negative emotions that are not of her--- but of the world... and she is too good for that in my opinion.
This beautiful woman is ~d. I wish I would could meet her, but for now it is not meant to be. All I can do now is thank her and link her and let you know you should tell her she is totally sexy and rocks!!!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
It was just for a moment
A chill ran up my back
To the nape of my neck
And it embraced me firmly.
The music played
The lyrics spoke of friends
And a kitchen
And dancing
And for a brief moment
I felt it
I remembered
I remembered how it feels to be satisfied
For a brief moment
I remembered happiness
And how it fees to be content
And then,
Like everything else in my life
The moment passed
A chill ran up my back
To the nape of my neck
And it embraced me firmly.
The music played
The lyrics spoke of friends
And a kitchen
And dancing
And for a brief moment
I felt it
I remembered
I remembered how it feels to be satisfied
For a brief moment
I remembered happiness
And how it fees to be content
And then,
Like everything else in my life
The moment passed
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I cant remember it all but I remember a few things
they were all there
all the young people
all around me
i was suppose to be the leader
and then i realized i wasn't
i was just one of them
we went for a drink
the adults
but i didn't drink
and then i came home
and washed the tub
and i was naked
and they came back
they came to the door
and I hid
but only for a little while
because it was beautiful outside
and the sun was shining
so i got dressed
at least i had clothing on when i got there
we sat, all of us, near the ravine that lead to a river
I propped my back up against a tree
too early for it to provide any shade
but the sun felt good on my face
the boats were coming in
one man on a boat was talking about replacing windows
his boat went down the river
and then it happened
there was shade
in a moment
the apple blossom tree bloomed
it bloomed over my head
it bloomed all around me
i was now it its shadow
and although i noticed it was cooler
i didnt seem to mind
because it was so fragrant
the canopy of white and pink and lil' red specks
and the sun barely passed through the leaves
but when it did
it sparkeled on my skin
and I looked up
and looked out from under
and i said to a faceless colleague
please take my picture
it happened so fast
capture it for me please
for this too may pass
take may picture so i can remember
capture this moment forever
freeze me here
its too beautiful and too mercaulius
and it was
because i awoke to my waiting world
and isnt spring
not here
not yet
but last night
i dreamed
and the tree was in color
and everything else was black and white
and i never dream in color
except for last night
they were all there
all the young people
all around me
i was suppose to be the leader
and then i realized i wasn't
i was just one of them
we went for a drink
the adults
but i didn't drink
and then i came home
and washed the tub
and i was naked
and they came back
they came to the door
and I hid
but only for a little while
because it was beautiful outside
and the sun was shining
so i got dressed
at least i had clothing on when i got there
we sat, all of us, near the ravine that lead to a river
I propped my back up against a tree
too early for it to provide any shade
but the sun felt good on my face
the boats were coming in
one man on a boat was talking about replacing windows
his boat went down the river
and then it happened
there was shade
in a moment
the apple blossom tree bloomed
it bloomed over my head
it bloomed all around me
i was now it its shadow
and although i noticed it was cooler
i didnt seem to mind
because it was so fragrant
the canopy of white and pink and lil' red specks
and the sun barely passed through the leaves
but when it did
it sparkeled on my skin
and I looked up
and looked out from under
and i said to a faceless colleague
please take my picture
it happened so fast
capture it for me please
for this too may pass
take may picture so i can remember
capture this moment forever
freeze me here
its too beautiful and too mercaulius
and it was
because i awoke to my waiting world
and isnt spring
not here
not yet
but last night
i dreamed
and the tree was in color
and everything else was black and white
and i never dream in color
except for last night
Sunday, April 8, 2007
If it weren't for lust I don't think life would be worth living
Passion and lust are about the only things that keep me going anymore
And why shouldn't they?
Why shouldn't I live my life filled with passion
They tell me its not right
I'm no longer a child
You hear it over and over again
and yes I lust
i lust over what i can have
and i take it
i lust over what i can not have
and burn
and obsess
and sometimes i move on...
at least for a while
and other times...
I grin in the middle of the day just to think of the object of my desire
I wish i had more time to allow it to comsueme me
i think i would be better at everything if i lived in lust and passion
but the world is so afraid of emotion
they want notheing to do with it
no me
i will live in the extreem and see where it takes me
If I crash I can at least say i lived
Passion and lust are about the only things that keep me going anymore
And why shouldn't they?
Why shouldn't I live my life filled with passion
They tell me its not right
I'm no longer a child
You hear it over and over again
and yes I lust
i lust over what i can have
and i take it
i lust over what i can not have
and burn
and obsess
and sometimes i move on...
at least for a while
and other times...
I grin in the middle of the day just to think of the object of my desire
I wish i had more time to allow it to comsueme me
i think i would be better at everything if i lived in lust and passion
but the world is so afraid of emotion
they want notheing to do with it
no me
i will live in the extreem and see where it takes me
If I crash I can at least say i lived
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
The Gift Part II
I have tried to write this at least a half dozen times
I have been thinking about this for months
Scattered notes are in my journal regarding this
I want to be honest about everything
I want to purge, to confess
I've done nothing wrong-- I feel, I live, I am human
I know those who are mentioned here will never find this post
And if they do, they too would admit it is all true
So please don't judge me too harshly as I share with you the most intimate gift I ever received.
Have you ever seen "Mr. Holland's Opus?" Do you remember Rowena? I have a Rowena in my life. Rowena is my muse. Rowena and I have a connection --- sensual but never sexual. I could tell you how beautiful and inspiring my Rowena is, but it really doesn't matter in the grand scope of things. Everyone has their own Rowena.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have been going to The Alley to shop since I was about 15 years old. This was the place before hot topics, before there was emo. This is the place that not many kids dared to go into. This is the place that you could like Metallic or Depec Mode or Motorhead or the Sex Pistols or Romons--- well you get my point! I mean, Hot Topics didn’t even exist back then!
The Alley is a mixture of fashion, music and art-- very emo and dark and just my idea of a good time.
We walked into The Alley as a family. The first thing I noticed, other than the blond androgen being with 50 face piercings, was the shirt that said "I have the pussy so I make the rules". Classic. I would have bought it but I can’t wear it to a school or business meeting or anything--but when I go back... I will buy it!!!
I walked around the store and commented on almost every item. I could buy out the store-- I love it all. The Gothic and suggestive fashions, the body jewelry, the concert tees, the buttons and patches and boots and art---- OH MY GOD!!!! This store is so me, even after 20 years.
Rowena had been staying with us for about 2 1/2 months at this point. Taking him to the Alley was a big deal. This place was really a part of my growing up. It was in the big city, plus, the fact that it was in "boys’ town" let him know we were okay with his sexuality.
My birthday was just around the corner. I have to admit I was excited and disappointed all at the same time. We had arranged an over night stay at one of the local museums with a bunch of young people. Not the way I planned to spend my b-day. I was actually more looking for someone to chaperon me-- but alas it was not to be
As the time approached, our house guest, who was all of 17, got rather-- um well let's just say he smiled a lot. I knew he had something up his sleeve for my birthday. I did question him and he said in no uncertain terms that he had a surprise for me. He wouldn’t t tell me what-- but that it was good. I could tell by his evil grin something was not what it seemed.
The next day, my husband calls and tells me he won’t be home directly after work. He is on a mission for my birthday. I told him it was not necessary to go to any big deal for my birthday.
Our guest has a very specific gift he wants to get you. I told him I would pick it up. Very strange. You see the Hubby always seemed a bit jealous of Rowena, so for him to go out of his was and make a trip to pick up something for him... it was all so odd. The two men sharing secrets about me. I wish I could fully convey to you the feeling that went through me as all this was happening.
I was scared, sacred to think that they would bond together more so that I had bonded with either of them. I was exited, exited to think that they were working together for a common goal. And this was my birthday gift and I do so love to be suprised. But it all seemed too much. The undertone of every conversation oozed with emotion and lust and passion you could feel it we all could feel it and yet we all just giggled about it.
My birthday hit at midnight at the museum. We laughed and joked and my guest informed me my gift would need to wait until we arrived back home. It would be too uncomfortable to give it to me in public.
I knew at that moment what he got me
I knew where my husband went
I was amazed
When we were at the alley, I was admiring the whips. I thought no one noticed. There were several there, whips and riding crops. I was alone in that room-- or so I thought. The young man must have seen my smile as I examined each item. He must have watched how I touched them. Even as I think back to standing there surround by the leather and "gear" I wouldn’t have noticed if a bomb when off. I was in the Alley with the whips and the hand cuffs and I was smiling and warm and in my old world, my own world.
He must have seen me
He must have felt it
I can’t believe he asked my husband to get it for him-- for me
Is he naive?
No he's not
Is my husband that open minded?
He must be
It is sick and twisted and soooo hot to think these men would give me such a gift. The two men I love the most worked together this past year, so I cold receive an incredibly personal gift.
A very special gift from someone who barley knows me, but understands me more that I care to believe.
A gift of understand and respect from my husband, who can accept me for the sensual woman and I am, and allow me to be me.
I haven’t "used" it. But almost every day, once everyone has gone their separate ways I look at, hold it, admire the leather and work on the handle to break it in a bit.
My body burns to think I am this understood.
Most people spend their whole lives hoping some one will "get them"
Many people are never accepted for who they really are
Some people are lucky enough to find one person who understands them
I am lucky enough to have two
And a new whip
And memories to last a lifetime.
I have been thinking about this for months
Scattered notes are in my journal regarding this
I want to be honest about everything
I want to purge, to confess
I've done nothing wrong-- I feel, I live, I am human
I know those who are mentioned here will never find this post
And if they do, they too would admit it is all true
So please don't judge me too harshly as I share with you the most intimate gift I ever received.
Have you ever seen "Mr. Holland's Opus?" Do you remember Rowena? I have a Rowena in my life. Rowena is my muse. Rowena and I have a connection --- sensual but never sexual. I could tell you how beautiful and inspiring my Rowena is, but it really doesn't matter in the grand scope of things. Everyone has their own Rowena.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have been going to The Alley to shop since I was about 15 years old. This was the place before hot topics, before there was emo. This is the place that not many kids dared to go into. This is the place that you could like Metallic or Depec Mode or Motorhead or the Sex Pistols or Romons--- well you get my point! I mean, Hot Topics didn’t even exist back then!
The Alley is a mixture of fashion, music and art-- very emo and dark and just my idea of a good time.
We walked into The Alley as a family. The first thing I noticed, other than the blond androgen being with 50 face piercings, was the shirt that said "I have the pussy so I make the rules". Classic. I would have bought it but I can’t wear it to a school or business meeting or anything--but when I go back... I will buy it!!!
I walked around the store and commented on almost every item. I could buy out the store-- I love it all. The Gothic and suggestive fashions, the body jewelry, the concert tees, the buttons and patches and boots and art---- OH MY GOD!!!! This store is so me, even after 20 years.
Rowena had been staying with us for about 2 1/2 months at this point. Taking him to the Alley was a big deal. This place was really a part of my growing up. It was in the big city, plus, the fact that it was in "boys’ town" let him know we were okay with his sexuality.
My birthday was just around the corner. I have to admit I was excited and disappointed all at the same time. We had arranged an over night stay at one of the local museums with a bunch of young people. Not the way I planned to spend my b-day. I was actually more looking for someone to chaperon me-- but alas it was not to be
As the time approached, our house guest, who was all of 17, got rather-- um well let's just say he smiled a lot. I knew he had something up his sleeve for my birthday. I did question him and he said in no uncertain terms that he had a surprise for me. He wouldn’t t tell me what-- but that it was good. I could tell by his evil grin something was not what it seemed.
The next day, my husband calls and tells me he won’t be home directly after work. He is on a mission for my birthday. I told him it was not necessary to go to any big deal for my birthday.
Our guest has a very specific gift he wants to get you. I told him I would pick it up. Very strange. You see the Hubby always seemed a bit jealous of Rowena, so for him to go out of his was and make a trip to pick up something for him... it was all so odd. The two men sharing secrets about me. I wish I could fully convey to you the feeling that went through me as all this was happening.
I was scared, sacred to think that they would bond together more so that I had bonded with either of them. I was exited, exited to think that they were working together for a common goal. And this was my birthday gift and I do so love to be suprised. But it all seemed too much. The undertone of every conversation oozed with emotion and lust and passion you could feel it we all could feel it and yet we all just giggled about it.
My birthday hit at midnight at the museum. We laughed and joked and my guest informed me my gift would need to wait until we arrived back home. It would be too uncomfortable to give it to me in public.
I knew at that moment what he got me
I knew where my husband went
I was amazed
When we were at the alley, I was admiring the whips. I thought no one noticed. There were several there, whips and riding crops. I was alone in that room-- or so I thought. The young man must have seen my smile as I examined each item. He must have watched how I touched them. Even as I think back to standing there surround by the leather and "gear" I wouldn’t have noticed if a bomb when off. I was in the Alley with the whips and the hand cuffs and I was smiling and warm and in my old world, my own world.
He must have seen me
He must have felt it
I can’t believe he asked my husband to get it for him-- for me
Is he naive?
No he's not
Is my husband that open minded?
He must be
It is sick and twisted and soooo hot to think these men would give me such a gift. The two men I love the most worked together this past year, so I cold receive an incredibly personal gift.
A very special gift from someone who barley knows me, but understands me more that I care to believe.
A gift of understand and respect from my husband, who can accept me for the sensual woman and I am, and allow me to be me.
I haven’t "used" it. But almost every day, once everyone has gone their separate ways I look at, hold it, admire the leather and work on the handle to break it in a bit.
My body burns to think I am this understood.
Most people spend their whole lives hoping some one will "get them"
Many people are never accepted for who they really are
Some people are lucky enough to find one person who understands them
I am lucky enough to have two
And a new whip
And memories to last a lifetime.
Monday, April 2, 2007
The Gifts... Part I
"I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs." -- RENT
Yes, that was me. When I was 15 years old, I received two very special gifts, my first whip, and my first set of cuffs.
Karl gave me the cuffs, at least I think they were from him. Many of the guys begged me to take theirs, but I liked Karl, so I took his. They weren't real cuffs, but they weren't the silly ones with fur. These were modified cuffs, modified just for me. You see, the safety switch on the side was filed down, almost flush with the edge of the shackle. With that little modification it was hard to tell that they weren't military or police issued. I wore the handcuffs on my right wrist. Occasionally, they would get in the way during drafting class or welding, or electric shop, so I had to put them on the front loops of my Levi jeans, just off to the right side.
Steve gave me the bull whip. It was beautiful. The whip was used, but lovingly cared for. The grip was wood and flawless. As a matter of fact the handle showed almost no ware compared to the brown, braided, 8 foot-thong. When I received the whip, the cracker was very warn. I told myself I would replace it, but I never did.
As I recall, Steve wanted to make sure I had a whip with a wooden handle, so that I could "mark it off" as one would a bed post. I never did such a thing. More often than not I could be seen wearing the whip. I would wrap it several times around my waist. I had a 24 inch waist at the time, so a good portion of the whip would still hang down my thigh. When I walked, the wooden handle would hit my thigh... ahh I remember it soooo well.
As I think back, the interesting thing was I had not slept with either of these young men-- as one may think when reading this.
These gifts were not just about my sexuality. They were about who I was and I how I was perceived by my friends. I had a fascination with control. I wanted it all-- like a perfect dominatrix, and then other times I wanted to be totally submissive.
This was true in every aspect of my life--- my sexuality was just starting to develop-- but the gifts were just outward symbols of the power struggle that went on inside of me as a teenager. Funny, today I still struggle with my place. How much control? Total? None at all? In between is still the hardest for me.
I remember being a very intimidating figure in the halls of my high school because of this apparel. Leather jacket, thigh high black suede boots, Levi jeans, a whip and hand cuffs. Today, you couldn't walk into a school dressed like that.
I remember my sheet metal shop teacher looking at the boys (who ran away from me)and saying "In 20 years, you'll wish for a girl like Mouse.
So here we are 20-some years later. The handcuffs are hanging from a reading lamp in the living room. The high-schoolers' needed them for a prop. I was the only one who had some with out fur. The kids thought they were real, because they didn't see the quick release lever.
The whip... ahhh... the whip is a whole other story.
Yes, that was me. When I was 15 years old, I received two very special gifts, my first whip, and my first set of cuffs.
Karl gave me the cuffs, at least I think they were from him. Many of the guys begged me to take theirs, but I liked Karl, so I took his. They weren't real cuffs, but they weren't the silly ones with fur. These were modified cuffs, modified just for me. You see, the safety switch on the side was filed down, almost flush with the edge of the shackle. With that little modification it was hard to tell that they weren't military or police issued. I wore the handcuffs on my right wrist. Occasionally, they would get in the way during drafting class or welding, or electric shop, so I had to put them on the front loops of my Levi jeans, just off to the right side.
Steve gave me the bull whip. It was beautiful. The whip was used, but lovingly cared for. The grip was wood and flawless. As a matter of fact the handle showed almost no ware compared to the brown, braided, 8 foot-thong. When I received the whip, the cracker was very warn. I told myself I would replace it, but I never did.
As I recall, Steve wanted to make sure I had a whip with a wooden handle, so that I could "mark it off" as one would a bed post. I never did such a thing. More often than not I could be seen wearing the whip. I would wrap it several times around my waist. I had a 24 inch waist at the time, so a good portion of the whip would still hang down my thigh. When I walked, the wooden handle would hit my thigh... ahh I remember it soooo well.
As I think back, the interesting thing was I had not slept with either of these young men-- as one may think when reading this.
These gifts were not just about my sexuality. They were about who I was and I how I was perceived by my friends. I had a fascination with control. I wanted it all-- like a perfect dominatrix, and then other times I wanted to be totally submissive.
This was true in every aspect of my life--- my sexuality was just starting to develop-- but the gifts were just outward symbols of the power struggle that went on inside of me as a teenager. Funny, today I still struggle with my place. How much control? Total? None at all? In between is still the hardest for me.
I remember being a very intimidating figure in the halls of my high school because of this apparel. Leather jacket, thigh high black suede boots, Levi jeans, a whip and hand cuffs. Today, you couldn't walk into a school dressed like that.
I remember my sheet metal shop teacher looking at the boys (who ran away from me)and saying "In 20 years, you'll wish for a girl like Mouse.
So here we are 20-some years later. The handcuffs are hanging from a reading lamp in the living room. The high-schoolers' needed them for a prop. I was the only one who had some with out fur. The kids thought they were real, because they didn't see the quick release lever.
The whip... ahhh... the whip is a whole other story.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
I hate that my fucking world reverts back to my 17 birthday and women can’t think how pissed off they are and a glass will crack and that I can be the sexiest women in the room and still fucking fade into oblivion and I can know all and be all and do all and rule all and still see descent in my ranks.
I hate being a fucking adult. I want to go back to the days one no on counted on me and on one depended on me and no one cared what the fuck I did or said.
‘Cause you can have men wait on you hand and foot and you can have them tell you that you are wanted and you can still fell like life isn’t worth any breath you inhale or suck in or what ever other way you want to see it. It’s fucking life, and it sucks. So do what you can to take and not give…. ‘cause trust me giving is over rated some days.
Giving takes.
It takes all that you are.
No one fucking cares.
So what the hell does it matter any way.
I hate me
I hate life
I hate 17
I hate strife
Give me oneness
Give me space
Give me some other place
I hate being a fucking adult. I want to go back to the days one no on counted on me and on one depended on me and no one cared what the fuck I did or said.
‘Cause you can have men wait on you hand and foot and you can have them tell you that you are wanted and you can still fell like life isn’t worth any breath you inhale or suck in or what ever other way you want to see it. It’s fucking life, and it sucks. So do what you can to take and not give…. ‘cause trust me giving is over rated some days.
Giving takes.
It takes all that you are.
No one fucking cares.
So what the hell does it matter any way.
I hate me
I hate life
I hate 17
I hate strife
Give me oneness
Give me space
Give me some other place
Friday, March 16, 2007
Why stay?
I stay because of love
I stay because of friendship
I stay because you are a part of me
I stay because I promised I would
I stay because I am obligated to
I stay because it is not easy to leave
I stay because I have no where else to go
I long for more because you have changed
I long for more because you have not changed
I long for more because I have lived more fully than this
I long for more because I am a mere mortal
I long for more because there is more
I long for more because I continue to grow
I long for more and in doing so fall short of who I should be in this relationship
I stay because of friendship
I stay because you are a part of me
I stay because I promised I would
I stay because I am obligated to
I stay because it is not easy to leave
I stay because I have no where else to go
I long for more because you have changed
I long for more because you have not changed
I long for more because I have lived more fully than this
I long for more because I am a mere mortal
I long for more because there is more
I long for more because I continue to grow
I long for more and in doing so fall short of who I should be in this relationship
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Thursday, March 1, 2007
There were two beds in the damp room,
that much I do remember.
It's such a fog.
The air felt oppressive and sticky .
The smell was old
a combination of paint,
and smoke,
and mold,
and rain .
When I lifted my head from under the covers and up off the pillow,
the wretched smell hit my face like a cold rag.
I had an instant head ache behind my brow line.
I gaged, but some how managed to remove myself from the bed .
"We should get ready" I said to the figure laying under the blankets in the second bed.
There was a stretch,
and a smile.
"Okay, I'll get in the shower" was the reply.
But the lump didn't move.
It lay still.
The form was barley identifiable under the cheep 1970's hotel spread just twitched as if to regain a comfortable sleeping position.
"Never mind, I'll take my shower first", I said in a reassuring voice.
"What? No, it will take me forever to get ready we'll be late."
"No we won't, i'll be quick about it that way you can still sleep." my voice smiled as I said the words.
The door to the bathroom wouldn't close all the way.
I pushed the not-so-white bath mat toward it to keep it from swinging open.
I began to undress to get ready for my shower. The bathroom smell was made more of a sweet sick by the lavender soap.
Off came the pajama bottoms and I let them lay on the floor, rather than picking them up into a neat folded stack.
I examined my face in what appeared to be a medicine cabinet mirror .
A rusted sliver edge surrounded the the place that should have held my refection,
but i couldn't see myself.
I noticed a light appeared from the other room. There was movement and music.
I tried to move away from the crack in the door, so i wouldn't be seen.
I made my way to the claw-foot tub with torn white shower liner
I felt an unfamiliar bashfulness as i watched shadows play against the walls of the other room.
The tub fixtures were old and porcelain; white and cold to the touch.
My modesty prevented me from undressing any further as i adjusted the water.
I heard him speak.
I don't know what he said.
I know I responded with a forced laugh.
I saw my bottoms and a old cream colored robe on the black and white tile of the bathroom floor .
I removed the silk panties that covered my intimate parts,
but I left on the long button up shirt as I placed my feet in the tub.
I continued to adjust the water; there was just a trickle on my toes.
It was warm.
The flow increased
and steam began to rise up under my night shirt.
I stood up to continue my undressing.
As I adjusted the shower curtain I observed strange things.
The shower head only came up to my chest.
It was attached to a thin metal ring that held the ratted shower liner in place.
I found it odd to have my head show over the curtain,
but it was an old tub,
and an old place.
I continued to unbutton my top.
That is when the tall thin figure walked into the room.
I remember it in flashes.
I jumped, startled .
My jump moved the lever
and the shower started.
The warm water soaked my shirt.
The water hit me blow my shoulders
and above my breast,
absorbing into the material
I remember feeling the slick fabric sticking to my skin.
Cold.
My nipples were hard and erect like pink gum drops under the silk.
The shirt danced free from below my breasts.
The water flowed like a river on the fabric
and when the fabric ended just above my thigh
it was a waterfall
so that somehow, my stomach remand dry.
Even now, if I close my eyes, i can still feel the water
and how the fabric attached itself to me.
I remember his golden hair.
It shined as if the rays of the sun burst out of the ends,
all around his face.
I remember his luminous smile was framed by perfect pouty lips. Thin and moist.
I remember his dimples.
And when I remember,
I can't help but grin.
His cheeks puffed up toward his eyes when he smiled a sincere smile.
And he was smiling.
Smiling at me.
Smiling at the way i jumped when he entered the room.
I know there was dialog
but for the life of me I can't bring it back into my my mind.
My other senses were on overload.
There is too much to remember.
How can one human
in one moment
feel so much?
As I adjusted the shower curtain he continued to grin.
Why i tried to cover myself
I still don't know.
Words.
I know there were words.
It's so frustrating.
I remember so few of them.
"Are you dressed?"
I know that questions was asked.
Did I tell you I adjusted the curtain in front of me ?
I did, yes
I told you that.
I remember feeling flushed,
and red
and hot
and cold
cold from the way the water now dripped from my nipples
down the silken fabric and on to the tops of my feet .
But i told you that,
didn't I?
I'm sorry.
I can't get it out of my head.
He came so close to me.
Resting his arms casually on the shower curtain rod.
He leaned inward.
Ht first i thought he would glace down at me;
at my body.
Instead he looked directly into my eyes.
More words i don't remember.
I only remember the smile,
and the water ,
and the touch of his hand on my cheek,
and the kiss.
Oh I so remember the kiss.
How soft those lips were.
How they were steady
and sure
and confident
and warm when they were pressed against mine
and the turning of a head
and our tongues dancing
and the palm of his hand
the weightlessness of his fingers
as he gently touched my face from ear to chin and back again.
Oh I so remember the kiss
An nothing afterwards.
Wait, maybe...
Maybe there was music.
Maybe light.
Maybe.
I don't know.
I don't want to wake up.
Please..
Please...
Why won't you let me continue to dream?
Please let me dream.
that much I do remember.
It's such a fog.
The air felt oppressive and sticky .
The smell was old
a combination of paint,
and smoke,
and mold,
and rain .
When I lifted my head from under the covers and up off the pillow,
the wretched smell hit my face like a cold rag.
I had an instant head ache behind my brow line.
I gaged, but some how managed to remove myself from the bed .
"We should get ready" I said to the figure laying under the blankets in the second bed.
There was a stretch,
and a smile.
"Okay, I'll get in the shower" was the reply.
But the lump didn't move.
It lay still.
The form was barley identifiable under the cheep 1970's hotel spread just twitched as if to regain a comfortable sleeping position.
"Never mind, I'll take my shower first", I said in a reassuring voice.
"What? No, it will take me forever to get ready we'll be late."
"No we won't, i'll be quick about it that way you can still sleep." my voice smiled as I said the words.
The door to the bathroom wouldn't close all the way.
I pushed the not-so-white bath mat toward it to keep it from swinging open.
I began to undress to get ready for my shower. The bathroom smell was made more of a sweet sick by the lavender soap.
Off came the pajama bottoms and I let them lay on the floor, rather than picking them up into a neat folded stack.
I examined my face in what appeared to be a medicine cabinet mirror .
A rusted sliver edge surrounded the the place that should have held my refection,
but i couldn't see myself.
I noticed a light appeared from the other room. There was movement and music.
I tried to move away from the crack in the door, so i wouldn't be seen.
I made my way to the claw-foot tub with torn white shower liner
I felt an unfamiliar bashfulness as i watched shadows play against the walls of the other room.
The tub fixtures were old and porcelain; white and cold to the touch.
My modesty prevented me from undressing any further as i adjusted the water.
I heard him speak.
I don't know what he said.
I know I responded with a forced laugh.
I saw my bottoms and a old cream colored robe on the black and white tile of the bathroom floor .
I removed the silk panties that covered my intimate parts,
but I left on the long button up shirt as I placed my feet in the tub.
I continued to adjust the water; there was just a trickle on my toes.
It was warm.
The flow increased
and steam began to rise up under my night shirt.
I stood up to continue my undressing.
As I adjusted the shower curtain I observed strange things.
The shower head only came up to my chest.
It was attached to a thin metal ring that held the ratted shower liner in place.
I found it odd to have my head show over the curtain,
but it was an old tub,
and an old place.
I continued to unbutton my top.
That is when the tall thin figure walked into the room.
I remember it in flashes.
I jumped, startled .
My jump moved the lever
and the shower started.
The warm water soaked my shirt.
The water hit me blow my shoulders
and above my breast,
absorbing into the material
I remember feeling the slick fabric sticking to my skin.
Cold.
My nipples were hard and erect like pink gum drops under the silk.
The shirt danced free from below my breasts.
The water flowed like a river on the fabric
and when the fabric ended just above my thigh
it was a waterfall
so that somehow, my stomach remand dry.
Even now, if I close my eyes, i can still feel the water
and how the fabric attached itself to me.
I remember his golden hair.
It shined as if the rays of the sun burst out of the ends,
all around his face.
I remember his luminous smile was framed by perfect pouty lips. Thin and moist.
I remember his dimples.
And when I remember,
I can't help but grin.
His cheeks puffed up toward his eyes when he smiled a sincere smile.
And he was smiling.
Smiling at me.
Smiling at the way i jumped when he entered the room.
I know there was dialog
but for the life of me I can't bring it back into my my mind.
My other senses were on overload.
There is too much to remember.
How can one human
in one moment
feel so much?
As I adjusted the shower curtain he continued to grin.
Why i tried to cover myself
I still don't know.
Words.
I know there were words.
It's so frustrating.
I remember so few of them.
"Are you dressed?"
I know that questions was asked.
Did I tell you I adjusted the curtain in front of me ?
I did, yes
I told you that.
I remember feeling flushed,
and red
and hot
and cold
cold from the way the water now dripped from my nipples
down the silken fabric and on to the tops of my feet .
But i told you that,
didn't I?
I'm sorry.
I can't get it out of my head.
He came so close to me.
Resting his arms casually on the shower curtain rod.
He leaned inward.
Ht first i thought he would glace down at me;
at my body.
Instead he looked directly into my eyes.
More words i don't remember.
I only remember the smile,
and the water ,
and the touch of his hand on my cheek,
and the kiss.
Oh I so remember the kiss.
How soft those lips were.
How they were steady
and sure
and confident
and warm when they were pressed against mine
and the turning of a head
and our tongues dancing
and the palm of his hand
the weightlessness of his fingers
as he gently touched my face from ear to chin and back again.
Oh I so remember the kiss
An nothing afterwards.
Wait, maybe...
Maybe there was music.
Maybe light.
Maybe.
I don't know.
I don't want to wake up.
Please..
Please...
Why won't you let me continue to dream?
Please let me dream.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
I have been stymied in my thoughts
The world is no longer my own
they stole it
they took it away from me
they have stopped me
they raped my imagination
and toss it aside
made me think its was something to hide
don't you think it's about time
we take back our minds
we get on the attack
we beat them
slaughtered them
hurt them
maim them
for the sake of preserving
what isn't as perverse
as they make it to be
for the sake of sustaining
something close to being free
The world is no longer my own
they stole it
they took it away from me
they have stopped me
they raped my imagination
and toss it aside
made me think its was something to hide
don't you think it's about time
we take back our minds
we get on the attack
we beat them
slaughtered them
hurt them
maim them
for the sake of preserving
what isn't as perverse
as they make it to be
for the sake of sustaining
something close to being free
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
"I just want to be someones number one" he wrote.
It haunted me.
Why?
I have been number one to so many
It ends up in heart ache
It ends in tears
It always ends
I want to be someones number 3
Return my call
But not right away
I can count on you
but you may not be home
and that's okay
'cause when we come together
we are both present
When I'm your number one you smother me
When I'm your number one you take me for granted
When I'm your number one I don't feel like me anymore
Yes, I know
I am no longer me
I am now us
But us should be more, not less, of who I once was
I liked it better before I was number one
It haunted me.
Why?
I have been number one to so many
It ends up in heart ache
It ends in tears
It always ends
I want to be someones number 3
Return my call
But not right away
I can count on you
but you may not be home
and that's okay
'cause when we come together
we are both present
When I'm your number one you smother me
When I'm your number one you take me for granted
When I'm your number one I don't feel like me anymore
Yes, I know
I am no longer me
I am now us
But us should be more, not less, of who I once was
I liked it better before I was number one
Monday, February 19, 2007
- Does a kiss count?
- Can a bottle of wine make it all go away?
- Can a bottle of vodka?
- Why don't you leave a comment?
- Why keep coming back?
So I have been watching who has come to see me. I know you. You are alone. You are over seas, you search...
I don't know what it is you search for, but you find me.
And you linger. You look. You watch. You read my deepest thoughts.
Then you go away with out saying a word.
Speak to me
Comment
Let me know you were here
You can come and go as you please
But let me know you were here
Mess the bed or something
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
When lust and love meet
Your body responds and reacts
And sanity retreats.
Today is a day for lovers.
But what about us?
You know who we are.
You know who you are.
We, who have love,
and security,
and all that the world seems to desire
and yet
we long for passion
and lust.
We hunger
and yearn
for something more.
Where is our comfort?
It's not in this day.
It is in the everyday.
Today
for us
is a day of longing
that others can not fathom.
Be gone day!
Begin the night!
Your body responds and reacts
And sanity retreats.
Today is a day for lovers.
But what about us?
You know who we are.
You know who you are.
We, who have love,
and security,
and all that the world seems to desire
and yet
we long for passion
and lust.
We hunger
and yearn
for something more.
Where is our comfort?
It's not in this day.
It is in the everyday.
Today
for us
is a day of longing
that others can not fathom.
Be gone day!
Begin the night!
Friday, February 9, 2007
and if I tied your
hands against the wall
above your head
tightly
would you turn your head
as i tried to kiss you
and if pressed myself
against your flesh
and stole your soul
as you exhaled
would you deny my power over you?
you can try to run
but you're already caught
my web is thin
light
undetectable
until you are trapped in it
trapped by it
no
i will not be spurned
you are not your own any longer
you are now mine
my pray
and to spite what you might think
you're going down
hands against the wall
above your head
tightly
would you turn your head
as i tried to kiss you
and if pressed myself
against your flesh
and stole your soul
as you exhaled
would you deny my power over you?
you can try to run
but you're already caught
my web is thin
light
undetectable
until you are trapped in it
trapped by it
no
i will not be spurned
you are not your own any longer
you are now mine
my pray
and to spite what you might think
you're going down
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Well, you thought you knew me
You thought it would all be okay
Just yes me
Just agree
It doesn't work that way
I want more than that
I want more than to be heard
I want to be understood
You dont have to appreciate me
As a matter of fact
There are so many things
You dont have to do
You dont even have to love me
But you have to do more than you are doing
This isn't working out for me
And at this point
I could care less if it is working out for you
You thought it would all be okay
Just yes me
Just agree
It doesn't work that way
I want more than that
I want more than to be heard
I want to be understood
You dont have to appreciate me
As a matter of fact
There are so many things
You dont have to do
You dont even have to love me
But you have to do more than you are doing
This isn't working out for me
And at this point
I could care less if it is working out for you
Thursday, February 1, 2007
knowledge of good and evil
Did the apple contain all the knowledge?
Was the apple magic?
When he bit into it, did it all wisdom come from a fucking piece of fruit?
I think not!
Foolish mortals!
We were made in the creators image
The knowledge was there
It had to be there
Buried deep
And then
A means
A meathod
Some one turned on the light
And now we know.
It's like never seeing a sunset
Or a butterfly
How do you know of the beauty and inspiration of those things
How they might change your life
The ability to change is all ready there
The ability to know Good
And to know Evil
What will be your apple?
Was the apple magic?
When he bit into it, did it all wisdom come from a fucking piece of fruit?
I think not!
Foolish mortals!
We were made in the creators image
The knowledge was there
It had to be there
Buried deep
And then
A means
A meathod
Some one turned on the light
And now we know.
It's like never seeing a sunset
Or a butterfly
How do you know of the beauty and inspiration of those things
How they might change your life
The ability to change is all ready there
The ability to know Good
And to know Evil
What will be your apple?
Monday, January 29, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
mmmmm
This dark person is having a hard time being as emo as I would like to be right now. So give me a day or two and I'll be back with something sick and sensual.
there is too much light here, I need to go cover my head
there is too much light here, I need to go cover my head
Saturday, January 20, 2007
You be me for a while and I'll be... what ever
Some one is trying to be me
My identity has been hijacked
Ya, someone is posting comments as me
Sick sexy comments
I should be mad
But it kind of turns me on
I had some one tell me once that they wanted to be me
Not be like me
But be me
I guess it just like that
So if you are here because of a comment on someone’s blog
Welcome
And as for you ... the wonderful person who also wants to be me...
You’re doing a great job
Keep it up
Now go out and make us some money slut!
My identity has been hijacked
Ya, someone is posting comments as me
Sick sexy comments
I should be mad
But it kind of turns me on
I had some one tell me once that they wanted to be me
Not be like me
But be me
I guess it just like that
So if you are here because of a comment on someone’s blog
Welcome
And as for you ... the wonderful person who also wants to be me...
You’re doing a great job
Keep it up
Now go out and make us some money slut!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
let me bring you to tears
let yourself go
and feel what the world is saying to you
let me bring you to ecstasy
let yourself go
and allow yourself to finally be free
you know you want to
you know it's good for you
you know your going to
let your self go
immerse yourself in pain
immerse yourself in passion
allow yourself to feel
let yourself go
what's there to hold on to
what's there to control
sometimes
ya just got to
let yourself go
let yourself go
and feel what the world is saying to you
let me bring you to ecstasy
let yourself go
and allow yourself to finally be free
you know you want to
you know it's good for you
you know your going to
let your self go
immerse yourself in pain
immerse yourself in passion
allow yourself to feel
let yourself go
what's there to hold on to
what's there to control
sometimes
ya just got to
let yourself go
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
I know it's not about me
But I can’t help to wish it was
When the longing starts
When the thoughts become action
I wish I was the catalyst
I want to be the one
Who causes the ripple
That starts the motion
And leads to the waves
That pounds the shore
and leave you soaked through
I go through the motions
And try not to take center stage
I watch and wonder
When you start to move
Did my thoughts guide you
I want to be the one
Who causes the ripple
That starts the motion
and leads to the waves
that pounds the shore
and leave you soaked through
It's all about you
And your needs and desires
I will be constant support
However longing
I will not faulter
I want to be the one
Who causes the ripple
That starts the motion
and leads to the waves
that pounds the shore
and leave you soaked through
And maybe one day
As you look back at a sunset
Something will open your eyes
So you can see
What you have always been to me
But I can’t help to wish it was
When the longing starts
When the thoughts become action
I wish I was the catalyst
I want to be the one
Who causes the ripple
That starts the motion
And leads to the waves
That pounds the shore
and leave you soaked through
I go through the motions
And try not to take center stage
I watch and wonder
When you start to move
Did my thoughts guide you
I want to be the one
Who causes the ripple
That starts the motion
and leads to the waves
that pounds the shore
and leave you soaked through
It's all about you
And your needs and desires
I will be constant support
However longing
I will not faulter
I want to be the one
Who causes the ripple
That starts the motion
and leads to the waves
that pounds the shore
and leave you soaked through
And maybe one day
As you look back at a sunset
Something will open your eyes
So you can see
What you have always been to me
Sunday, January 14, 2007
ahhhh
I love to be clever
The great thing about being online is you really dont know who you are talking to
I have had guys try to pick me up on line
try to flirt with
And yes I've done my share of checking out the world's attactive people
but now i know the best to do
after the guy gets agrivating
i just tell him im my husband when he tries to flirt with me or asks if I want to see him naked
I love to watch men squirm
The great thing about being online is you really dont know who you are talking to
I have had guys try to pick me up on line
try to flirt with
And yes I've done my share of checking out the world's attactive people
but now i know the best to do
after the guy gets agrivating
i just tell him im my husband when he tries to flirt with me or asks if I want to see him naked
I love to watch men squirm
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Monday, January 8, 2007
so what should I do,
just be who you want me to be?
forget who i am
for the sake of your needs
yah, i have heard of uncondional love
but save that
for the gods
the saints
i am a sinner
and I am not going to fit into your pattern
your habit
your perfect little world
I can be anything you want me to be
I can hide behind any mask
I can lie
and steal
would that make you happy
to posses me
and not know me at all
then, instead of my lover
you can be like all the rest
just be who you want me to be?
forget who i am
for the sake of your needs
yah, i have heard of uncondional love
but save that
for the gods
the saints
i am a sinner
and I am not going to fit into your pattern
your habit
your perfect little world
I can be anything you want me to be
I can hide behind any mask
I can lie
and steal
would that make you happy
to posses me
and not know me at all
then, instead of my lover
you can be like all the rest
Saturday, January 6, 2007
If you have never know the hardship and the pain of real love it is easy to romanticize about it. It is easy to look at that one over there with a heart that is full of desire and passion and hope. To let passion be all there is. The feeling where the desire seems to smother you to the point of death.
But real love is death
It is allowing a part of you to die for someone else
Sometimes against your own will
Sometimes against your own better judgement
But it's about love
Not about you anymore
It is consuming
It is pain
It isn't always worth it
Ah to be back in the day when it was all about
Lust
Passion
Desire
the physical
and nothing more
But no, I am no longer an innocent
I am a lover
so I must suffer
But real love is death
It is allowing a part of you to die for someone else
Sometimes against your own will
Sometimes against your own better judgement
But it's about love
Not about you anymore
It is consuming
It is pain
It isn't always worth it
Ah to be back in the day when it was all about
Lust
Passion
Desire
the physical
and nothing more
But no, I am no longer an innocent
I am a lover
so I must suffer
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
