Don’t quote me on what I’ve done
Dragging my vowels and
Stripping bare my intentions
I didn’t ask to be desire
Placed high upon intentions
Dancing with beautiful strangers
Yes, lofty instructions
For strangled divinity
Tag: desire
No Direction Known (day 797)
I am a victim of a cry
I am saddened no desire
Your denial of pleasure
Of finer things in life
Another way
I am a truth without a cause
A burning candle without a wick
When things explode
I am the hole
Absent of memory
I am a lesson never learnt
Beaten into fibrous lush
Browned and featureless
Lost and empty
Homeless
I am the midnight street walking
A single fluorescent light aglow
Long shadows down the road
And no finger prints
Left outdoors
I am not your golden rule
Your constant stream of pleasure
Lollygagging in suns warmth
Straight and narrow
There is no direction known
Agape (day 795)
No desire, no direction pointed towards
Or passion warming the hearth
With a listless presence, standing
Mouth agape, as bait laid carelessly
In a young child’s idle play
Ebbs at the sight of prey
Understanding, in the heat of noon
Dirt clouds seeking moisture,
Wild calls shan’t be pry thy ears
Shan’t whip thy conscience into curt action
That thunders in yonder distant hills
All rests timelessly
All accumulates that which old books,
Unactivated ceiling fans, and
Old couch-sofas in a sunbeam’s gaze
Collect, like passport stickers,
Green-rot below country home taps, and
Knots in old women’s backs
Seem to enrich all our lives in
Sweet mother natures precious stamp
Time which counts ever longer
Into agape county rancher-home scenes
Tea is served through the wire mesh
Swing door on a rancher style patio
With hard footsteps of stiff manners
And an old rocking chair
With one checkered cushion
While sun recedes behind
Yonder silent hills
Slowly rocking in the evenings breeze
Bits of Honey (day 762)
Reck my conscience with little bits of honey
With tenderness so thick it sticks to me like memories
And oozes down my leg in a moment of passion
Fill me with such desire only the honey bee knows
One quest on earth to direct my every worth
Make my desert storm spit fire that stings
Every single orifice of your summer nights sweat laden
Lightly tan-lined body lying before my
Eager fingertips, dancing with the curves
And flaps of silk lining at this savory hour
Turn the midnight taps on, let our sweetness
Stick together in co-mingled ecstasy
Passion fueled by opened moon-lit windows
Setting the mood for romance tonight
In sticky memories of a honey bees essence
Spilt Blood (day 741)
You had me in your charms before
When you desired me in your mouth
Locked me with your legs around
Between plans: a desired future
Swimming was I here
Ignoring sharks nibbling my toes
I tucked in the corners
Stuffed coffee with brown sugar
When the aphrodisiac kicked in
I was helpless to your gin – sin
Locked into waning hours in delight
That spilt my blood upon good hands
Then danced I to the sounds above
Culling my mind: ease into dinner
For racked I was in love and lust
Desperate to grow; forever to learn
So I yelled into a hallow bowl
Shed tears soiling silken scarves
Pulled my hair in ghastly chunks
Went to sleep in a bed of thorns – crowns
But now I cull the passing strangers
Purge them with eyes of daggers
Pour my soul into mason jars
Erase words before they’ve spoke
Breakfast In The Morning Panties (day 716)
We met up for drinks, it had been a long time coming
You with your crippling smile sucking margaritas through a straw
Tattoos in pink running up and down your arms
Crop top and flamboyant sunglasses
I could see it in her eyes, written up and down and in
Staring me right back, inviting me
We flirted unceasingly, enjoying the atmosphere of the joint
Back and forth about life, love, sex, and making a difference
Pushing into regions normally reserved for intimates
But we were intimates, we had already been over that line
Flushing out the spinning daisies with deep breaths and dilated pupils
Desire spoken through eyes
“Want to get out of here?” were my words
We were in a big facility, one with public washrooms
“Meet back here” we both demanded
No arguing; arousal and a full bladder don’t mix
By this time we understood the page we were on
I was out before she was, I started wandering
I looked back and saw her peeking into the men’s washroom
Intentions written all over her tippy toes
From behind I wrapped my arms around her
Walking her into one of the classic stalls
She was already pulling at the waist of her pants
Smooth tight skin of a woman who exercises
Pulling at my pants too with unleashed passion
Normally, I can remember thinking, normally I catch my breath
But this state of elation wasn’t coming down
This hand down my pants wasn’t slowing down
I wanted to ask her how much she weighed after I easily lifted her
Back against the wall, legs wrapped around my hips
I was distracted with my head in her hands
She was biting my lower lip as power cursed through my veins
Hands cupped around her ass, her firm exercised ass
Easy to dig my fingernails into in my moment of pure passion
Euphoria, her’s and mine own
As passionate as our discussions earlier
Life, love, sex, and making a difference
We walked out of that public washroom hand in hand
All the way to her Eastside flat
I asked for her number with intention
Because she didn’t have to ask me to stay
I walked in like I owned the place
And expected breakfast in the morning panties
At Four AM (day 700)
It’s four am and you’ve just dined on my seven thirty yearning
Ain’t no more lone stars buzzing ’round this night sky
Aretha Franklin making me feel like a SUU-PREME lover
I’ve got soul oozing outa my fingertips
Tracing edges of your naked hips with eyes-wide-closed
I let my words get a little bit dirty, just a little bit
A lazy mid-summer breeze shuttling through these sheets
Carrying the sweet smells of our four am lover games
It’s times like these where life stands still
Where lovers squirm silently under gushing melodies of desire
Darkness concealing tomorrow’s troubles
While a half gone glass of evenings red
Brings our lips together, exchanging our dogged passion
Into pure physical reaction, forever and ever
‘Cause sometimes it’s a feeling baby
Pulsating Crimson (day 683)
Destruction pulls at my madness
With steam whistles and ten year old phone books
Pages loved so much they’re retreating
While the tune of rapidly moving music
Pulsates a crimson so pure my eyes turn bold
I pour myself a glass of that ruby no label
Found deep within the dusty shelves
Of fathers favorite medicine cabinet
Sit down on the ol’ family rocking lounger
And fixate on the blinking screen
Laughing defeat into my already raging desire
Demise (day 630)
I heard you ever there
Calling loudly
Innocence curling off your lips
And building into frustration
It wasn’t my desire to push you thus far
Your demise denied it evermore
Transformations (day 558)
Desire cuts the edges of time
Bloating the circles that filter my clique
Enter the ninja, defined and cunning
Who packages the goodies
Into my lunchbox
While want, want, want fills me
I sit back and bleed the freshly killed carcass
Blood oozing onto the cement floor
Draining all that has lived inside
Filling madness into the void
Just think, I tarry a while
Holding the chopsticks at the dinner table
Once, there was a time when
All choices from within
Were unconscious, hopelessly trivial