Monday, February 9, 2009
Don't fear
I am not totally depressed as my two previous poems would indicate. I am just doing some soul searching and some of the sadder stuff is coming out. I guess a lot of isolation will do that. I like being alone though. Honest. It is an only child thang.
Isn't it interesting when people are disappointed in you because you didn't live up to who they thought you would be. How can you predict the future? You can't. You can manifest your destiny though. It is when your destiny is unclear you yourself that things seem confusing. This can be caused by outside influences for sure. But no one knows your true self except for yourself and many times, that self is repressed. I can definitely trick myself into believing illusions I have created until they are shattered.
Sleep is a key element to a happy life. Keep that in mind. Good night.
Isn't it interesting when people are disappointed in you because you didn't live up to who they thought you would be. How can you predict the future? You can't. You can manifest your destiny though. It is when your destiny is unclear you yourself that things seem confusing. This can be caused by outside influences for sure. But no one knows your true self except for yourself and many times, that self is repressed. I can definitely trick myself into believing illusions I have created until they are shattered.
Sleep is a key element to a happy life. Keep that in mind. Good night.
Another sad poem
I have to be alone.
That way, I don't hate anyone.
If we meet for coffee,
it is enjoyable.
But only if we
go our separate ways
at the end.
If you came home with me,
we would have fun.
But if you stayed to long
I would say something
that is wrong.
That way, I don't hate anyone.
If we meet for coffee,
it is enjoyable.
But only if we
go our separate ways
at the end.
If you came home with me,
we would have fun.
But if you stayed to long
I would say something
that is wrong.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Tangerine Dream
She awoke submerged in water
the water was the perfect temperature.
She looked around
what she found
was too good to be true.
“Am I in heaven” she said out loud.
There was no reply.
Taking inventory she noted
there was a clementine
already peeled for her.
“My favorite fruit” exclaiming
to show her appreciation.
Lifting a glass of burgundy liquid
to her nose, she sniffed.
“Smells good” still hoping that
someone might be there.
All she heard was the drip of the water.
She relaxed and slid down the back of the tub.
From above, she looked like a mermaid.
Suddenly, she sat up,
worried she might fall asleep
while under the water.
Standing up, she reached
for her tattered towel
warn thin through use.
She started with her feet,
drying in between her toes.
Coral Dune was the name
the bottle of polished she used.
Stepping onto the cold tiled floor,
“there used to be a rug there”,
the apology fell to the floor
and lay there.
No one to pick it up.
the water was the perfect temperature.
She looked around
what she found
was too good to be true.
“Am I in heaven” she said out loud.
There was no reply.
Taking inventory she noted
there was a clementine
already peeled for her.
“My favorite fruit” exclaiming
to show her appreciation.
Lifting a glass of burgundy liquid
to her nose, she sniffed.
“Smells good” still hoping that
someone might be there.
All she heard was the drip of the water.
She relaxed and slid down the back of the tub.
From above, she looked like a mermaid.
Suddenly, she sat up,
worried she might fall asleep
while under the water.
Standing up, she reached
for her tattered towel
warn thin through use.
She started with her feet,
drying in between her toes.
Coral Dune was the name
the bottle of polished she used.
Stepping onto the cold tiled floor,
“there used to be a rug there”,
the apology fell to the floor
and lay there.
No one to pick it up.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Geisha
I have always wanted to be a prostitute, haven’t you?
I know, there are STDs, HIV and beatings
but oh, it seems so glamorous.
Lazing around all day in your fancy french lingerie.
You would treat your brothel sisters as brethren,
sticking together until the end.
I know that they knew how to bring on menstruation.
Stirring together a witches’ brew
strong enough for two.
I would be in control if I were a prostitute.
Telling what a man can and can’t do,
and them make him pay for it.
Men need prostitutes.
They want to spread their seed around
as many fertile soils as possible.
Were men even supposed to raise children
or just get the women pregnant?
At births, the dad never knows what to do
he feels guilty that the mother of his child
has all that pain to bear.
But what can he do?
It is between the mother and the child.
In Japan, some children were sold
if the family was poor.
She was lucky though,
she got to go to Geisha school.
She would learn all the ways in which
a man likes to be treated.
How to pour tea the most elegant way.
How to do hair and make up.
How to appear innocent to drive up
the price of premiere penetration.
If she was the favorite,
the mother of the house might pass
along the business to her.
she would have servant girls
and an easy life,
her hands would remain delicate.
I know, there are STDs, HIV and beatings
but oh, it seems so glamorous.
Lazing around all day in your fancy french lingerie.
You would treat your brothel sisters as brethren,
sticking together until the end.
I know that they knew how to bring on menstruation.
Stirring together a witches’ brew
strong enough for two.
I would be in control if I were a prostitute.
Telling what a man can and can’t do,
and them make him pay for it.
Men need prostitutes.
They want to spread their seed around
as many fertile soils as possible.
Were men even supposed to raise children
or just get the women pregnant?
At births, the dad never knows what to do
he feels guilty that the mother of his child
has all that pain to bear.
But what can he do?
It is between the mother and the child.
In Japan, some children were sold
if the family was poor.
She was lucky though,
she got to go to Geisha school.
She would learn all the ways in which
a man likes to be treated.
How to pour tea the most elegant way.
How to do hair and make up.
How to appear innocent to drive up
the price of premiere penetration.
If she was the favorite,
the mother of the house might pass
along the business to her.
she would have servant girls
and an easy life,
her hands would remain delicate.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
How I came to be
I was born in the dessert, in an adobe. My mother was in labor for 25 hours. Most hospitals won’t let you labor that long. At home, she took baths, received back rubs, took walks, breathed during contractions. A doctor and a nurse were there, coaching her through. My Dad was there too and when he wasn’t watching the world series, he was helping my Mom. He says the day I was born was the best day of his life.
On the day of my parents wedding, my Dad couldn’t speak. He had been a bachelor for 31 years and liked it that way. My Mom had conceived me 3 months after my parents had met at a party. My Dad was there alone because his live in girlfriend was sick. My Mom was there alone because she wanted to get out of the house. Neither of them knew anyone else but the hostess of the party. So they talked and my Dad soon asked his live in girlfriend to pack her things and go.
My aunt says that the only reason my Dad was a good man is because my Mom didn’t pick him. Yes, my Dad is the best, loving and supportive, he adjusted well to the married life. My Mom didn’t. She felt trapped, she wasn’t really in love with her husband. What else could she do? She was only 24, no real skills, no college degree. Pregnant, no money.
They had a hippie wedding. Parents weren’t invited. Just friends. And my Mom’s sister. Food, music, decorations, and ceremony were conducted by friends. There are just a few polaroid pictures from that day and they both look radiant.
After the wedding, they went to Mexico for a few days. Taking a bus down, they didn’t have a return ticket. A man who owned a small sailboat was headed back to the US, and asked if they wanted to help crew it. On their way home, the sailboat was seized in a violent storm. Everyone on that ship felt that they were goners. My Father, who was one of the only people not vomiting, kept radioing for help. Finally, just as everyone had given up hope, a voice comes across the CB. “This is the vessel Faith, hang on, we’re coming to get you.” My parents vowed if they made it safely to shore, they would name me Faith, if I was a boy, Noah.
On the day of my parents wedding, my Dad couldn’t speak. He had been a bachelor for 31 years and liked it that way. My Mom had conceived me 3 months after my parents had met at a party. My Dad was there alone because his live in girlfriend was sick. My Mom was there alone because she wanted to get out of the house. Neither of them knew anyone else but the hostess of the party. So they talked and my Dad soon asked his live in girlfriend to pack her things and go.
My aunt says that the only reason my Dad was a good man is because my Mom didn’t pick him. Yes, my Dad is the best, loving and supportive, he adjusted well to the married life. My Mom didn’t. She felt trapped, she wasn’t really in love with her husband. What else could she do? She was only 24, no real skills, no college degree. Pregnant, no money.
They had a hippie wedding. Parents weren’t invited. Just friends. And my Mom’s sister. Food, music, decorations, and ceremony were conducted by friends. There are just a few polaroid pictures from that day and they both look radiant.
After the wedding, they went to Mexico for a few days. Taking a bus down, they didn’t have a return ticket. A man who owned a small sailboat was headed back to the US, and asked if they wanted to help crew it. On their way home, the sailboat was seized in a violent storm. Everyone on that ship felt that they were goners. My Father, who was one of the only people not vomiting, kept radioing for help. Finally, just as everyone had given up hope, a voice comes across the CB. “This is the vessel Faith, hang on, we’re coming to get you.” My parents vowed if they made it safely to shore, they would name me Faith, if I was a boy, Noah.
sultbathgate
sultbathgate - Those were the “words” I had to type in to verify that I wasn’t a robot.
Or a hacker. Or a robot hacker.
Everytime I have to verify, beads of sweat bust from my forehead.
Will I be able to read the letters or numbers? Will I get it right?
Usually I have to try a few times, to wait for an easy one.
When I finally prove that I am a humanoid with no ill intentions.
I am granted permission to be apart of the group.
I was really excited to find this one.
AthensJacks
6 Members, Archives: Membership required
Athens, GA Jack Off Club For guys who have no hang ups about getting together with some other guys for mutual masturbation fun!
That is what I am talking about!
We used to have “circle jerks in high school.
They were the best. Our other name for it was race cars.
This should be a class in high school.
Yes it would exclude women, but why not?
They get to do all the fun stuff and wear all the fabulous clothes.
Yes, I have some vagina jealousy, and why not?
They took my foreskin as a baby!
My labia! No! I would have shouted.
If only I could communicate in words.
I thought crying would tell them how I felt.
I have been desheathed.
That is why I like the solidarity of MM
(what I like to call mutual masterbation)
That is why you should let me into your group!
*****************************************
error error error
your message cannot
contain more than 200 characters.
*****************************************
Ok, how about
Hi, my name is Bill.
************************
WELCOME BILL
*************************
Or a hacker. Or a robot hacker.
Everytime I have to verify, beads of sweat bust from my forehead.
Will I be able to read the letters or numbers? Will I get it right?
Usually I have to try a few times, to wait for an easy one.
When I finally prove that I am a humanoid with no ill intentions.
I am granted permission to be apart of the group.
I was really excited to find this one.
AthensJacks
6 Members, Archives: Membership required
Athens, GA Jack Off Club For guys who have no hang ups about getting together with some other guys for mutual masturbation fun!
That is what I am talking about!
We used to have “circle jerks in high school.
They were the best. Our other name for it was race cars.
This should be a class in high school.
Yes it would exclude women, but why not?
They get to do all the fun stuff and wear all the fabulous clothes.
Yes, I have some vagina jealousy, and why not?
They took my foreskin as a baby!
My labia! No! I would have shouted.
If only I could communicate in words.
I thought crying would tell them how I felt.
I have been desheathed.
That is why I like the solidarity of MM
(what I like to call mutual masterbation)
That is why you should let me into your group!
*****************************************
error error error
your message cannot
contain more than 200 characters.
*****************************************
Ok, how about
Hi, my name is Bill.
************************
WELCOME BILL
*************************
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