Take my hands into this night
Stars aglow and rhythms tight
My mind is not allowed tonight
To love while caught in lusts delight
No worries here with minor plight
I’m passion fueled with pure delight
Tag: passion
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
Glide (day 789)
Would you glide under me
If I told you how tremendous your advantage was?
Gently laying your hands
Upon my aggressive hips
Digging deeper for anticipated passion
Rustling night air with sensuality
Do you like the way music
Catches hold of our souls and ignites fire
Hidden sublimely in the embers?
There is a saturation point
Where sight isn’t relevant
Eyelids gently shut and
Eyes rolled to the sky
Toes curling in an arching kind of way
Just like the small of your back would feel
If I were to encourage you
To glide under the touch of
My well trained hands
Like a man as a lover should
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
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
Past Prime Ministers (day 690)
I name off the past Prime Ministers of Canada
As I vigorously make love to you in the night
This helps me accept the fact that
I’ll be slipping with my consciousness soon
Lapsing into a nether region where
Hawks and eagles walk among men
Tipping their hats in respect for animals while
Dining on fine wine and inhaling Cuban cigars
It’s not that I don’t enjoy our time together
Or that my nether regions don’t explode with furious passion
In the presence of your captivating demeanor
Sensuous curves and inviting aroma
I quite like it actually, appealing to all my senses
I just like to dream of Fantasia
Land so vividly different to familiar Earth
A dreamscape of my own devices
Rhythmically naming the past Prime Ministers
And rattling the headboard of your mothers bed chamber
Touch (day 644)
When I touch you, baby
And all I feel is goosebumps
When we slow roll down
To your back and my weight
I see it with fuel in your eyes
When the light is turned down low, baby
I hear you, softly and smoothly
Whispering tones we’ve come to know
Hear me as I kiss trails down your neck
Where I feel earthquakes within your soul
And when passion grabs hold of your hips, baby
Fills you up to heights untold
Scream out; let surrender take control;
Snarl and arc and grip me leaving
Memories in claw marks over my skin
Night at the Queer Bar (day 626)
Passion fuels eyes of short haired misfit women
Beautiful woman with desire and reason
Eager looks, united causes, dim lights with red highlights
But way to fucking scared to sit with a man
I, the lonely soldier, with space pants filling my eyes
I, the unlucky winner in a queer bingo show
No worries here though, I’ve got my cameo coming up
Two dames on each arm riding with a free pass for the night
Loud cackling and turned backs with those fucking hip beanies
Plaid 90s South Central styles and dirty looks
Still, I find eyes here
Looks from curious patrons
Turns out not everybody needs to pick a side
We all switch hit from time to time
Sweep Away (day 621)
Swooping down to greet earth
Sands of serenity blow in from beyond
Groping all with each passing second
An hourglass figure high into the sky
One step forth into winds of change
Takes away sad thoughts
Takes away deep regret
Takes away wallowing injustice
Attacking the littlest of extremities
Upon soul’s troubled mind
Eyes closed and arms outstretched
Deep breaths that fuel sands
Crawl up the spine of soul
Into central nerves that regulate movement
Where a shake begins to take control
Into the heart of passion
Into the soul of hunger
Into open arms of love
Until the last drop of mal-content
Fades off into wicker brooms
That sweep away forgotten thoughts
Sunset (day 620)
Passion filled the sunset that night
Bursting out of control in the sky
Rupturing from the heavens onto earth
And splashing the vista with brilliance
Glory that struck the landscape
With curls around every tree
Silhouetted every rock
And painted every glass walled tower
Before the flag was sent skyward
Hue shifted into darkness
The sun rode on into tomorrow
And night grew eternal long