Daddy

Elegantly, she strips
The form of a dancer
Moving her hips
To music from another room

Off with her lingerie,
In a school girl outfit
Turning on a spit
She announces herself
A bold new cold front
Moving in from the East

I lay naked sprawled out in bed
Not a word spoken between us
Except
“slower”

I am aroused by her

She tells me to tie her up with my ties
Blindfold her
She doesn’t know if she wants to be
Gagged
I haven’t anything to gag her with
Except for another tie
But, darling, let’s not kill the motif

It used to be, in my younger days,
That sex was the beating
Of a dead horse
A traveler come from nowhere
Laid to rest with a maiden
Of his choice
Anonymous, almost
No names, no nomenclature

Absolute asexual anonymity
Between two lovers, committed
For years

Here, though, in the hereafter
The twilight of my tarnation
I feel up these thighs
These woman’s thighs

And I feel at home
I kiss her breasts, and tease her clit
With my fingertips

She never feels used

I call her a whore
A dirty slut
She wants me more

She screams out for daddy
And I give her daddy

And, as I thrust,
This isn’t sex
This isn’t me fucking you

This is a blind man
Walking with a cane
Through a valley formally known
As Death

And through that valley,
Yea, though he walks,
He shall fear no woman
For thou are with him,
o, humble whore

You, dear, are no meer object
A name to any other could offend
But to you, dear woman, it’s a toy
That moves inside of you and hits
Deep
In the heart
Of the matter

A whore isn’t effected by her calling
You, it pleases you

But mostly, and I’ll never understand why
It’s my touch

My scattered thoughts are with
You
My fractured touch is with
You
My angry fuck is with you
But it is not
You

With you, it’s peace
It’s eternity
It’s hope
It’s making a special brand of love

And while I may tie you
Name you
Hurt you
Pin you by your throat
And make you beg for my cum

You never lose sight of the fact


I love you.
Daddy loves his little girl.

His good girl.

She will howl, I will wimper.
In the end, we rest. We cuddle.
We simper.
But, all of it, us, is for the best.

Come with me, o motherly figure.

Greet me at the doorway,
And spend the night with me.






It's kind of graphic, but it's the only thing of note I've written recently. So, in an effort to blow the dust off of this blog that no one reads :D I posted it.



Thanks for reading, one or two people, if that many!

I've totally neglected this blog!

ZOMG.

But, I have time now to really sit down talk - for a minute. >_>

So, I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I went to Coleton's girlfriend's house last night and had a huge dinner with her family. I was coerced with a glass of Knob Creek whiskey to keep playing my guitar until my hands were too cold to finish a song. It was a wonderful evening and I'm so thankful to have had a family setting. With my parents and sister in North Carolina, and myself in San Francisco, I get lonely for family. And with Lisa in London for the holidays, and this being Coleton's last weekend in town, I'm like... alone. It's hard. But, I'm thankful ever all I have and everyone I love. Especially her and Coleton, for being such rocks while I'm away from my family. And for my family, I am eternally grateful.

In Antioch right now with Coleton at his new place. This will be a blog entry for tomorrow, because I have a lot of musings, as I've learned a few things about people and their... issues. :D But, I just wanted to update and say "Hola!" So...

Hola!

Kbye! Happy Black Friday! I hope you didn't get trampled at Wal-Mart.

Where the Wild Things Aren't

I've done a lot of thinking about life and friendship, love and death, and the basics of every person (as varying as they may be) today. That's a lot for my little brain. So, obvs, I have a headache from the sixth layer of Hell. But, after talking with Lisa at great lengths about doing what it is in life that we love, maybe it's time I get back to my basics, yeah? glad you agree. >_>

It took Lisa to get me back into songwriting. I'm so grateful to have that muse. Maybe now that I have a little swing back in my step, I can get back into writing stories. I have... three or four unfinished screenplays that have been staring me down and demanding attention for about a year and a half now. Totally unfair to the characters I've created to put them in difficult positions and never give them their way out. Sorry, guys. Be back soon.


Also, Dexter premiered tonight. Season 5, motherfuckers. Pretty weak opener to the best show on TV, but still a cut above the rest. The last season will be hard to top in terms of storytelling and performances (though season 2 has a good corner on that market, as well), but I have faith that the writers and performers will not let their darkly dreaming devotees down*.

Also also, I can't seem to stop listening to the same four Dire Straits songs on loop. I need some new music, I think. Or, I can just stop hitting "back" on my iTunes player.


I should probably start rough-drafting these posts before I commit them to the www landscape for persecution, but I can't really be bothered to do that right now, as it's 3:30 in the morning. I spent some time with Lisa before she went to class, and now I'm awake and wanting to accomplish a bunch of things. Today, if I sleep, will be a productive day. Thank God for the get-up and go. Now let's just keep the supply equal to the demand.




*-alliteration, ftw. Au revoir!

Untitled, but she knows. :D

We sip warm soup from our chipped cups
in our blissful purgatory
We're bundled in afghans and blankets
No one paid the air conditioning
and the ice water has all but boiled
But, at least we have something to hold our soup

Behind curtains, we steal kisses
at the company Christmas party
If HR knew, we'd be fired and out
of a job
But, at least we have money to spend on each other

We walk, arm in arm, down secondary roads
Our love is our own affair with each other
If either one of us found out how the other felt,
we'd be ruined
But, at least there's passion, no?

Times are many when I remember her
hair and how it smells after she's walked around
all day
She is to be photographed at noon and her make-up
is crooked
But, at least I get to see her face

And if I could steal one kiss in front of the company
Walk down one highway, carrying her over my shoulder
And keep her cool on the hottest of hot days,
I'd give everything I own
But, at least I have my belongings for the moment
































so, there's that. I'm gonna try and update this shit more often. Peace out, girl scouts.

Heavy a Heart

I am aware of my hands
and how they tap
dance across these keys

These rushing winds that swirl
'round my body, whipping
me into ecstacy, and pulling
me from my thoughts
We move slowly in time through this
fast paced city in which we wait
for buses that hardly arrive, we wait
for food we could make
ourselves, we wait
for each other

I wait, like a good man does
staring, alert, into a computer screen
hoping that each chime brings your presence
My stomach tells me I am hungry
I wait, like a hungry man does

There is distance, in which I can taste you
I feel your soft skin from 10,000 miles away
I am at home. Our bed is made.

I am aware of my hands
and how they tap
dance across these keys





I love you, my dear.


Yeah, whatever. It's been about a month since I posted something, so why not have this melancholic piece of work be the return post? Right? right. good answer.


Thanks for reading!

The Matrix Evolution

This is how plugged into the world wide web I am at the moment - I go through this day forgetting I have this blog, because no one reads it except Lisa... and I just synced it with my Droid so I can post on the go.

even though I'll probably forget that Blogger is now a contact in my phone.




fuck. I need more sunlight.

Which is actually a lie, because I kind of have a vicious sunburn, caused only by the nine billion degree week San Francisco's been having. I considered taking a nap in my fridge earlier today, but I opted against it because I figured that burning uncomfortably is a lot better than slowly freezing to death. >_>



Useless post number 5. I'm on a roll.

Badlands

So, what the hell is with homeless people being rude? Like, rude as fuck? I completely understand that they have a reason to be angry and resentful and all of the other wonderfully alienating emotions, but when you're trying to ask for someone's help, is "go fuck yourself" the appropriate response when they say that they have nothing to give you? Ever?

Not gonna lie, a drunk and beligerent homeless man tried to light me on fire.









okay, not really. But, he put his lighter against my face and ignited it. Which is about three steps over the line. Step one, he asked me for a cigarette even after I told him it was my last one. Step two, he called me "an old motherfucker." O.o and step three? Trying to make me Dark Man over an extinguished Marlboro Smooth.

He fails, not only at success, but failure. That's a whole other deep level of fail that we can't even get in to on this blog. Because, honestly, there isn't enough space on the internet to house the essay that would spew forth from mine own fingertips.



Happy Tuesday!