YOU SNOOZE, YOU LOSE

You know what happens if you Snooze!

YOU SNOOZE, YOU LOSE

If I’m asked if I’m down for a Quick Snooze with a Prior Snooze,
Here’s the excuse I plan to use:“
‘Wish No Ill Will’ and ‘All the Best,’
But you’re no different from the rest:
You give way too little far too late,

So I prefer to masturbate
Rather than drown in Drowsy Company.
In fact, the Type of Snooze Which Most Impresses Me
Kindly Erases rather than Increases
My Need for Sleep,
Though I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit:
A Swift, Quick Snooze
I probably wouldn’t refuse
And could provably use, too.

DEJA VU/MADONNA-WHORE

DEJA VU: MADONNA-WHORE

I tried to spare my More Serious Readers My Darker and Lustier Sides by creating two separate Instagram accounts and separating my poems/accounts as follows:

1. “Serious” and/or “Seriously Sunny” or
2. “Seriously Dark” and/or “Seriously Slutty.”

The end result?

I sound like an irredeemable degenerate on one and a sanctimonious prick on the other.

Once again, once again.

EMPTY JESTERS, EMPTY GESTURES

AN EMPTY JESTER
FULL OF EMPTY GESTURES

I’m very verbally quick, but I’m even more mentally quick.

Sadly, most of my Genius is often
Lost in translation.

PS. Sometimes I write things which seem so “already obvious,” I’m sure they must be bad Dad Jokes as old as Methuselah.

You’ll have to trust me when I say they jest occurred to me today.

The Biggest Apple: one of my most delicious poems

Do you ever think of me?
Think of what we used to be?
It’s true our time was very short,
The briefest of carnal cohorts.
Almost thirty years ago,
Yet my mind is always blown
Up, across, and far away,
When I dream upon those days
And reminisce about those nights
In that city filled with lights.
We met by lucky circumstance,
Serendipity, random chance.
You, the older, taught me much.
Your lessons always turned to lust
For I was not a little child.
Fully grown, I’d been defiled.
I had some fantasies to try;
You very graciously complied.
Hot and sweet and rarely sour
Was that summer that was ours.
The Biggest Apple, shined and new,
Was Red Delicious; so were you.

(Thanks @martysanchezz for the photo)

Inspiration

INSPIRATION

The single best-practice way
I’ve discovered to this date
To flood and light the fiery flames
Of my own creativity
Lurks within emotionally;
The kiln which heats my words most hot
Is stoked when I’m the most pissed off!

*I changed it towards the end while grooming it.

THE GUIDED TOUR ♨️

THE GUIDED TOUR: FOR THE SEXY WRITERS

Even though I speak
Of writing dirty smut,
I hope All know the truth:
I’m not a real-life slut.
However should my readers,
The Reader who is You,
Make a Choice and finally Choose,
Invest the barest Minimum Time,
I’ll take you on the Guided Tour to
Glimpse my glamor-sexy Mind.

COLD TO TOUCH

You think your secrets Terrify
Though I have not a clue to Why;
You think I can’t exist without
It Tears me up then brings me Home.
Home to find You in my bed,
Dreaming of a Love so dead
To You, it has been quenched of Fire.
Once convinced to burst in Flame,
Now Inspiring Cold-to-touch
Weaponry to thwart Desire
And Broken, grasp at Any Crutch.

(Thanks for the use of your photo, @aaronburden)

THANKS4GIVING STUFFING ♨️

THANKS4GIVING STUFFING ♨️
I stuff my poems with heavy stuff.
I also stuff them with Big Love.
I stuff them till I’ve said enough.
I like to stuff them with rough love.
Stuff with me with your Lovely Stuff.
It tastes so good, it fills me up.
So why can’t I Just Get Enough?
It’s the Stuff I’m Dreaming of
UnTill I’m fully stuffed enough.
Come stuff me more; come stuff me rough;
Its the stuff; the stuff I love
And Yours the only Stuff I Trust;
The Only One that Spills Me Up.

DIGITAL COMPETITION

I’ve noticed within the last 6 months or so that single Men prefer Technology’s Version of Love to that of a Living, Breathing, REAL WOMAN. Or at least the Love of THIS Real Woman! These guys find digital gratification through digital images. For some, the sourcing of these images even crosses criminal lines.

Sadly [for me at least], “This” is what passes for “Love” in 2022 – at least for SOME men. And “Some Men” are the “Only Men” I meet!

Not that any of them actually admit to it so bluntly. And I MYSELF admit a Woman has to be PRETTY jaded to see so much UGLY-ness everywhere!

But I AM, so I DO.

In The Digital Woman, I see the same Flaws and Imperfections I HAVE – that ALL WOMEN HAVE – expertly Airbrushed from public view. The Orchestrators of Digital Love shouldn’t waste their time and money on Erasure Efforts because they’re entirely unnecessary; the Combination of Ease, 24/7 “Yes”-ness, and Nakedness will Reduce and Seduce a Man into the kind of Cyberblindness begging to grant Cyberpasses.

So MY romantic future looks very bleak – at least to Me! And listen folks: I’m cynical and jaundiced enough to realize I AM the Only Divorced Person My Age. Yet I was STILL foolishly hoping for one Last (long overdue!) Passionate Love Affair before I exchange Occasional Vulgarity for Perennial Perfection.

Not Anymore and Not Because death is hovering or any other Reasonable Reason. I’ve simply Lost Romantic Hope and Discarded all Nonexistent Intimate Expectations. You would, too, if Your Dating Pool preferred your karaoke videos to their NEARBY, flesh-covered, Large-AS-Life Counterpart.

I’ve decided to Not Give a Crap. After all, I enjoy my karaoke videos, too.

THE LONESOME DOVE

Discovery swears I’m weary Now
And Then as well a Home to house
Feelings scream: Intensity!
Beg You to Reach Out for Me,
Drown Me in Dark Memory
Back when You returned My Love,
Now discarded, Lonesome Dove.

(Photo courtesy of Emiliano Orduña)

IF I FEEL YOU

Should I find that I can feel you,
The feeling’s awful strong.
Should I choose to agree with you,
You’ll feel like You belong.
I have to be real careful
And apportion words with care,
For if I’m not deliberate
My Intensity might scare
Away the ones I long to reach
Instead of draw them closer,
Ever closer in proximity,
Not satisfied until they’re
Two inches away from Me.

Could We… ?

Could we consider
cutting away
these lived layers
that distance us?

Could we erase
the confines of convention,
societal standards, and
ridiculous rules?

Could we strip through
our pretty painted masks
to uncover
the savages
lurking beneath?

Could we forsake,
this once,
carefully crafted illusion
for the pocked, marked truth?

I ask because my heart aches to meet you in The Sacred Place.

There,
finally free,
finally clean,
I would offer
my scarred ugliness
and my most unadulterated beauty
to you.

Just you,
Only you.
For ever.

These Lazy Days

About we lie and laugh and laze
In these hot and hazy lust-filled days.

Counting clouds and admiring with kisses,
We soar to a time back where nobody missed us

To relive and rehearse the love scenes we’re writing:
A world built for two, one with no cause for hiding.

Facing each other, you reach for my hand,
Calling me by pet names only you understand.

And in that moment, a bond’s made and sealed,
An eternal promise good as long as we feel

The quivering and quaking which animates our “Now.”
Surely as sacred as a vocalized vow?





(Retooled, Revised, Rewritten, and Reposted)

Photo credit: Jennie Clavel. Thank you!

My Gaze is Fixed on You


Some like to gaze at stars;
I stare instead at you.
Compared to how you glow,
They sparkle like the moon.

You light my inner darkness;
Your power shines so bright.
You hold the whole night sky
On shoulders blazing tight.

You raise each crimson sun
With arms of strength and trust.
On you I place my faith
You’ll break the dawn from dusk.

You flood me with fresh oxygen,
Exhale my every breath.
My molecules are vivified;
You love me Life from Death.

I’m fully formed when we embrace.
Your beauty’s basking on my face;
All imperfection’s been erased.

Some choose to gaze at stars at night,
But I’m transfixed by You.

(Thanks to @danie_franco for the photo)

The Biggest Apple

Do you ever think of me?
Think of what we used to be?
It’s true our time was very short,
The briefest of carnal cohorts.
Almost thirty years ago,
Yet my mind is always blown
Up, across, and far away,
When I dream upon those days
And reminisce about those nights
In that city filled with lights.
We met by lucky circumstance,
Serendipity, random chance.
You, the older, taught me much.
Your lessons always turned to lust
For I was not a little child.
Fully grown, I’d been defiled.
I had some fantasies to try;
You very graciously complied.
Hot and sweet and rarely sour
Was that summer that was ours.
The Biggest Apple, shined and new,
Was Red Delicious; so were you.

(Thanks @martysanchezz for the photo)

Kiss the Moon


Crush me, bleed me
Push me, need me.
Stake me, feel me
Seek the real me.
Shoot me, shake me
Don’t forsake me.
Scold me, hold me
Want the aging old me.
Tease me, please me
Say you know that I’m not easy.

You’re the prize, the winning goal.
For you I’d sell my very soul;
And should you ever choose to love me,
Kiss the crescent moon above me.