Stories adagio

8

Edge Of A Silent Tomorrow

Like a raven's breath I will pass On the edge of a silent tomorrow Into the jaws of inequity Before the shroud covers my gasp And when they carry me away Just whisper a loving kiss With no damp corsages And feeling no sorrows For I became a better man When embracing our life of sin...Read On

7

I Vont Yu Tureen

I vampire, (Ezekiel) a living dead body. Contradictory, but so am I. Although, I have an odorous musk about my flesh. My personality is that of gentleman in full control of his sanity. Some referring to me as an abscess on the ass-end of humanity. Residing in a grave, a portmanteau or a 1947 DeSoto coupe, I suck blood from the living. Occasionally nourishing my hungering lust with tomato...Read On

14

Sum Uppins' Your Wish

As I whisper, sum uppins' your wish On the high swells of a lusty swoon Before the bobbin unwinds thread at dawn In my nocturnal attire craven desires And an eye for poetic bliss From a vampire's kiss With a hungering for your thighs As my tongue swash On bounty of your flesh Squeezing your cunny contraption While feelin' your cunt clinch my cock From deep down in your...Read On

13

Anfractuous Twining's

For destiny will be in her green eyes On attic-salt of her anfractuous twining's In the still of the midnight choir  Over bannisters shining Flowing silently like soft waters In proximity of her sensuality On a pond of frozen dreams As breezes blow through her hair While she dances in meadows at dawn Until the morning's bell rung On attic-salt of her anfractuous twining's...Read On

14

I Vont Yu Gummy Bear

Those who belonged to the social elite, engaged in some sort of religious mumbo-jumbo. Those who did not, were persecuted as heretics. And those who died violently by fire or at the stake, were deemed charcoal briquettes. Witches or vampires. Upon dying, if the soul was not in Heaven or Hell, it had to be somewhere. I, Ezekiel, a vampire. Just hung around. "That's some heavy shit, Ezekiel."...Read On

18

Knobs And Thingamabobs

In shades of purgatory high on the hill Between the knobs and the thingamabobs With a devil's cough and a poetic soliloquy While I play gremlin shedding crinolines  Lusting for sins on an evening's dusk Wishing you a cold-cold heart As you on knees giving me a homily And your naked flesh bringing me thrills With lips as good as you got  Whispering at the bay of my crotch Raising my...Read On

16

I Vont Yu Devils On Horseback

A special 'thank you' to NymphWriter, for editing.

What we as Vampires understand, mortality is not for the offspring of a common man. The everyday two-footer has no soul, for they will wilt your heart with lies, then grin. The history of the renaissance witnessed the brutality of man, but with an evil carnality written by scribes. It was open season (witch-hunts) for those with different ideals. It was the pestilence of the time as...Read On

18

I Vont Yu Hoppin' John

In quest of moans and sighs, pussy and thighs, I share the tale of forbiddance, from a poetic vampire such as I. Things in the past have happen, without rhyme or reason. With my conscience (an agnostic church moose) on my shoulder and the cock in my britches squirming, I begin. Norfolk Island, 16th century. Two "ears" before the mass. In 1587, 117 settlers traveled from England to...Read On

27

I Vont Yu Blahod

A special 'thank you' to NymphWriter, for editing.

Once upon a time, when God painted the world, and it was still wet. You didn't have to stand in line or pay taxes. There were no Homo sapiens or cars, menopause or strips bars. It was all BC... before chickens. Then along came a wooly-bully and the earth was hatched. We don't know if I came before the Tyrannosaurus Rex or the egg. Probably somewhere in between. Being as I was "early...Read On

16

One Stop Solo

Awake me from my last sleep While I rest on pillow-down Anointing me with your love Before the cataracts blind me Dimming the lights as I gasp So that I can see you As my breath becomes shallow And when the spirit at the gate Rings down for my number I will whisper with a kiss As I pass... To everlasting tomorrows For things will come to past When the Good Lord ask...Read On

18

Soft Side Of A Dream

Blinded by a moment's heavenly spent Daydreaming optics nearsighted I vent While in still waters of a poetic ripple A silent soliloquy of a wood thrush While on the soft side of a dream  In the wind chimes of my mind With sentiment of love painting with a touch  On the canvas of an easel with a blinded brush...Read On

16

Down From Above

Walking the brook stones wading up to my knees Feeling the cooling tingle the coming of breeze While sipping the broth of amber tea With a sweet essence of you As ripples of love ring down from above For whom the boughs brings pinecone words Aerating a poetic umber of forest leaves...Read On

19

Six Degrees Of Imagination

In six degrees of this poets imagination But a moment apart in separation And a decimal's breath from a kiss  With a phantasm cubic equation  Using a geometric T-Square In lassitude seeking your touch  As the sand rings down my eyes Rowing gently in my dreams  On the wings of enchanted love  In six degrees of this poets imagination...Read On

20

...of a by-and-by

With a landscape stretched on a taut canvas  A poetic dimension in lyrical verse As a thousand ardors bring me to this place With a gilded sonnet tied in a bow To paint your portrait with a soft touch While the crickets play their cellos In four strings of a concerto As freckles smile on your lovely face Wiggling your hips in Belgium lace A romantic swoosh of a breeze blow For that's the...Read On

18

Poetic Incarceration

Seeking to break out of poetic incarceration  By approaching words most carefully As coffers of my mind dwell in archives  In my deliverance masquerading as a bard Yet desires of lust hold me in obsession As love takes shine with kiss and admiration Dancing on pages of this poet's imagination  Stored in verses the four suits of the year Autumn, Spring, Winter, and Summer near ...Read On

17

Darkly Dusk

Near the gazebo as foul weather echoes  Feeling earthly comfort on spindles of thatch In carnal swoons salivating good cheer  As shadows awaken my lust, wuthering bellows blow  While day dims the light stirring my manly acorns  On your moistening cunt the hour darkly dusk  While my jowls hunger nether parts  To sow my sins and kiss plains of your twat  Casting a spell my eyes linger With...Read On

16

Saving Grace A Moonlit Spell

On a field of Backgammon With the quell of an erotic tale Saving Grace a moonlit spell As a shadow in my mind spins  Across my chest as tallow flows From a candelabra's glow While softly stroking a phallic of ten And poetically tracing webs omens With a gossamer's touch my breath sins Against the ripples down below In the hollows of your clit And awaiting my queue Giving no quarters...Read On

16

Little Naughty Things

Feeling the emotions of memories  And hearing moans from your maw As frost in your cunt begins to thaw While we diddle raw in the straw Caressing among the spindle weeds Ratcheting my cock to fill your needs And buckling your body at the knees  Slewing forth a scrotum of seeds With a slip knot tied with a string Tightly bound with golden rings The spool unwinds our torrid flings ...Read On

20

Otto Of Rose

Taken by a nectarous hint With otto of rose And the blush of morn dew  As grapes on the vines sweeten  Craving a little sunshine In the vineyards of the valley  Twixt Beacon's Straight and Shiloh  With a scent of chardonnay Inspiring a poetic basket As I pluck fruit of the loam  And you sigh with swoon tones  Whispering to you my love  With two flutes of a kiss And a faintness of...Read On

22

...Over Shantytown

If wishes were moments in dreams of sleep Tweaking in rhymes so deep, sort of speak With a moon glow over shantytown Feeling your breath, a silent wisp I would have volumes of pages to keep And press flowers to wile away poetic hours Leaving trivialities where they belong If stanzas were bold in print with your scent I would have gilded petals past tense As your caresses...Read On

16

Twinkling From A Jar

By far, my midnight star With a light twinkling from a jar As if hanging from above On the corner of a rainbow In proximity of my sleeping dreams And like a Grand Harp of a zodiac's swoon I feel your soothing caress As your breath quilts my flesh Laying your head on my chest With dawn on the horizon And dew like snow In fields of lilies beneath a willow A warming...Read On

14

Bordering Crocuses

With a longing for sentiment This old 'losopher dabbles in paint From the easel of my soul And the landscapes bordering crocuses  With a pallet of prosing words As your lips seek my caress On the futon beneath the oak Where the windmill grinds Beyond the tip of your brushing blush As you bare your alabaster wear Laying in seasonal comfort While touching me with a kiss With a breath...Read On

19

From Sipping Shallow Tea

Skipping over the monotonous lines Of black roses and molting quills  The melancholia at dusk Saying sayonara to my past harks From sipping shallow tea As ebony has turned to scrimshaw And words are fairer than air With a bust of your stature I stare On the mantle of my new found soul Scuttling chapters of gray tomes As your kisses rekindle my life And my wrought is now naught ...Read On

18

While I Steal A kiss

Oh! What mortals you and I  With poetic elocution  Before the fat lady sings As she warbles off key  On a symphony's love song Breathing scent of flowers And wild weeds at lusty hours  Feeling warmth of your breasts While dancing on panes of grass  Like a weathering spring Beneath showers of a mist  On paths of new mown While I steal a kiss Before the fat lady sings As she warbles off...Read On

18

'Neath Our Wings

With God's shadow 'neath our wings In oceans of new moan grass Raining down a gilded glow  Sharing wedding bells quell While caroling a marigold sing Whispering songs and compose In waves of caressing meadows  On a carpet of romantic clover As the morning tides swell  On this day our bands of gold  And gilded vows of prose As bobbin of life's thread begins  With God's shadow 'neath...Read On

11

Sultriness In Reams

On cornices of a poetic scroll Jotting ink and dabbing the quill Writing sultriness in reams Like shadows in a mirror of my soul In swoon of my scribbling thrill Comforting echoes of past fess Upon my meandering mind  And beauty at rest Striving to be best of poets Hungering for a quantum leap  Reflecting in my scripting words The magnificence she of my quest  Like silk...Read On

14

Poetic Fancy

With a will of my quill I spun  A dream from the dusk just past As your breasts soothe my flesh I dreamt a lyrical tune... Antebellum Lea Of poetic fancy and delightful tea As she smiled with blushing cheeks Kissing my chest on the plains of my heart As her fingers caressed my penis... Antebellum Lea Beneath a wash of the morning dawn With golden rings we will wed As...Read On

15

Mannequin Eyes Wandered

As the dusk yawned and sank below the horizon, the sanctity of the dark bequeathed a nocturnal word as your mannequin eyes wandered, I felt a breath of the wind still my very soul. With a stinging of the floss, about my arms and legs, I squirmed, on the quilted blanket as your fingers waltzed about my manliness, exploring my chest and tonguing the nips. Sighing a croon 'neath the...Read On

15

Petals In The Wind

As the pendulum of the metronome 'tocked At my humble writing desk Devilishly aroused, with an instigator's brush With the rhythm of the ticking clock Bewitched by a musing's kiss With a serpentine's wish And sensuality well defined You caress the evergreens of my mind Like potpourri and a wafting aria  Your touch, warming my blush As a shadow in the dark Melting my tallow As the ink...Read On

20

Shake My Willows

The effervescence of you In the quiver of my mind Beneath a copse of trees, Down a path, a distance dream And a scent of love,  As you dance pantomime Like lilacs on satin sheets, Your smile adorns my memory Of drifting forest leaves, And the whispering night breeze  Shaking the willows  As my muse sleeps  On the midnight clover Next to my chest Embracing my telltale heart...Read On

18
Audio version available

Riders In The Sky

Its either do or die When all is said, And poetically spoken  About tokens of halos. Threading the needle of life  Into the storm of the eye,  On the plains of yens, Only angels can fly. Stirring desires of fires,  On flatlands of sins, Like cyclonic winds Grabbing reins to my heart. As if riders in the sky, Thunder saddles up, When all is said, Only angels can fly....Read On

25

...of Marigolds

The woods unfold with meadows, and brooks, bound by gardens of marigolds. With a basket of sonnets, and a faraway moon, we play amongst the shadows. In copse of trees, needles dance, on the rind of a knotty pine,  as rust turns to dusk. As a halo of light,  and a banner of rays swoon down,  a glowing night of soon be. On a whisk of wisp, sensual bliss, with a smile, we kiss,...Read On

19

Little Shenanigans

When the dust of my shroud covers the smile of erstwhile I'll be over the miles, a distant prose. Traveling down a winding grove, up a staircase on life's banister,  thinking I'll pass this fork in the road. Moving on to a more poetic shoal,  and whispers from a musing's hiss, with a little shenanigan giving me kiss. As a damsel in a short dress awakens my bliss, my trumpet...Read On

21

And Stanzas We Sing

Using words, my wings, and stanzas we sing, crossing over life's pages of poetic sensuality, and my soliquey. Kissing your lips in rhythm and sublime, while in tall grass beneath honeysuckle vines, listening to a cappella rhyme. In shadows of the lunar moon, as loons swoon, the evening breeze rushing softly,  as you bring me love from an aria above. With scent of a golden rose in your...Read On

13

...of serenity

As poetry is my salt and life but a short visit, as fiddler bows last waltz. In still, I feel a quiver's breath, like a feathered swallow, at the sill of my gable. And with a silence of serenity, your spirit awakens me with a shadow of a kiss. As the sirens by the sea, lay down a bed of algae, as fiddler bows last waltz. Over half moon arising, my sweet lover, Galileo, ...Read On

8

Footprints Of Caravans

Rowing gently on my oasis, Like an inkwell of my mind Leaving footprints of caravans, As my poetry turns to lust. With a branch of the palm As turbines time the wind, Your kiss fills my plate As my prose turns to sin. Rowing gently on my oasis, Leaving footprints of caravans Of oarsmen in the sand....Read On

5

Om Of Presence

What shadows fall on my poetic slumber, Of you smiling with acorns in your hair. In silence as the sycamore breathes, Of autumn's umber and blowing leaves And frosted doilies on the dew. With winds whispering of verses unheard, The om of presence and the wooing wow, With a kiss on the brow of my love so fare. From nocturnal birds and caroling words, And we alone 'neath earthly tones,...Read On

11

Sticky Wickets

Silence within a moment's breath, I hear the shadows dance On my pulse. As a fluttering butterfly soar, Caressing the noontime hour, Alighting on your breasts. Spreading pollen of dream dust, Like a cloud of woolly pillows On sticky wickets. I see the beauty of it all, As my ink dips in the well, Writing in my idle while.  And when the kiss is on the wind bellows, ...Read On

6

Yonder You Sleep

What fool am I to whither!  like a weeping toad lie,  and poetically weep  as yonder you sleep. With a harrowed morrow and soft breath of your brush,  I feel the crush of another's touch,  yet my love holds fast. When yarns commend my pen, silken webs spin on a bobbin's end,  as willowing sheets of parchment fly like a rush of spewing tallow. Tears of my words transcend,  like...Read On

4

'Fore Bellows Of The Winds

The still of silence 'fore bellows of the winds, When birds have lost their songs as echoes descend. In the aria of moonlight a swaggering fall, Last dredges of a jigger my poetic call, As you lay so bare, with a dolly in your hair. The pendulum of my cock rocking the coo-coo, And you stirring my firkin of woo, The shadow of your wile with warm breath of sin,  And I on ends with...Read On

3

Touch Of Lingo

As the touch of lingo sheds to light, Like sea meadows, the umber waves of wheat. And there I will settle and tattle my tweets, For thee my love I shuck the corn And compose a poem from stalks of many. As the touch of lingo sheds to light,  The whiff of a breeze from your auburn hair. And there on the plains of Abraham we kiss,  Poetically dancing in the moonlight of bliss, ...Read On

5

Blushed Softly

In swooshes of my lines, Down home sounder. With my preen-eyed gal, So solemnly defined  And blushed softly with a kiss. Sweetly sipped As if persimmon wine, With a bellows breeze, 'Neath the oaken vines.  The acorns touch As if spinning on a carousel, Poetically entwined On earth's season meadow.  A shadow's fair of your sublime On a conical canvas of greenery. ...Read On

7

Poet's Will Doomed

I kiss thee very well, From the shadows of my recall. 'Neath the breath of an oncoming storm,  The memories of a gray haired stranger As the roux of my mind stirs its gravy. And the prosing comes to a simmer, Yet the spice is but words in a line, Like sweet muscatels on a vine, From the shadows of my recall. In silence of the eye, 'Neath the breath of an oncoming storm, ...Read On

5

Gray Scrumbles

With the hawking of a got, My penis let shot, A catcher in the eye  of my steaming yeoman. As gray scrumbles on my chin With the gaze of my eyes, Compose prose from a jar  Of my wayfaring sins.  And there you earthly kiss My stiffing cheroot, While swilling my gin, Genuflecting at the elbow, Of my humbly peg With a sigh and olive....Read On

7

A Better Sung 'Morrow

Gomen'nasai (I'm sorry)

In my visionary of passing I see,  Like a sparrow with a looking-glass. From atop a crest of a splendid alp,  A pantomime of a paper moon, In shallow waters of dreams, I rest. Beneath afar away pagoda, A path to eternal quest, With shadows in my tea, As light of my eyes swallow. In nearness I feel your caress, Sweet petals of my swoon, A pantomime of a paper moon. And...Read On

4

Until The Grass, Settles At Last.

...sorrow of painful cries.

While clutching a broach to my chest, skirmishing with the Johnny Rebs at the battle of Shenandoah Valley, near the Blue Ridge mountains... 1864. As tall as I could, I stood among fallen comrades, in meadows of shadow woods, tasting the blood being shed and the sorrow of painful cries. The burst of cannon rolled like thunder beneath a noonday summer, with the breeze of a...Read On

10

Old Pewter Can, 1862

In a tin can is a letter I penned, On the Tennessee River near Shiloh, While laying mortally wounded.  Shot by a Yankee in uniform of blue, In a peach orchard... 1862. As I cast my eyes to Heaven above, Waiting for the last twang of a harp,  I feel your breath upon my soul, Carrying me home to Old Dixie  And the pecan fields of home. And when the good Lord has roll call, I'll...Read On

22

The Story About George - Chapter Two - Caterwauling

As in life, there are many ups and downs. George's bedroom was upstairs and down the hall was the guest room to where Pamela was staying. That’s where you’ll find him now. It was only thirty minutes ago that G (George) had shaved Pamela' monkey. Unfortunately, the razor was dull and her twat now appeared as if were the Brazilian rain forest with mange. George, I know you were trying to...Read On

10

Down An Old Gravel Path

Alone at taps, Down an old gravel path. Signed, sealed and delivered, By a tandem of believers With six white corsages. And I in my sanctum berth, Lay in a garden of granite, Pushing up dirt, Down an old gravel path. As you molly-coddle a tear, In the still of an angel's breath,  Sitting beneath a magnolia tree, Sipping widow's tea. Like quiet dandelion seeds blow,...Read On

5

à la mort

As close as a beetle's eye, I scribble amore,  Silently sifting sand in my dreams,  Prosing with a sluice of swill. As Goth is to still, my quill scribes, Of bamboozling phantoms and ghosts. Grasping naught my sorrows, As a shadow overcomes a pantomime, With mythical kisses, in poetic lines, As close as a beetle's eye, I scribble amore. Now that winds of spiritual wings,  ...Read On

6

Poetic Acorn

With a sniffle-wiggle I sneeze, as pollen, like winter's snow blow,  brushing away a tear  upon a poetic acorn. The mendacity of it all when meadows are shorn, by a scythe romancing a bee,  with a failing smile. There you hum in memories,  a spiritual kiss of mummeries',  for in my ear, an angel thralls.  God's everlasting diaries. And when the hushing grippe  laid down...Read On

8

Muted Hob

Beneath my shawl, old bones of me,  the pendulum of my fob stirring my tea  as dusk becomes a shrouded nigh,  in scribes I prose, bye and bye. With a snickering grin, the Osage poet, on the crest of the river Styx,  as the tide in the inkwell swells, poetically between Martyrdom and Hell. Now with curse of broken stallion,  my penis lay wilted about my thighs,  dripping not, but...Read On

8

My Mind's Portmanteau

It wasn't the dusk that shrouded my prose,  With a splash of cologne to attract. Perhaps a light extinguished In my mind's portmanteau, Or the swill-waters of my gin.  A cloak of dark bowed a mournful cello And fiddled with a crooked mellow, As the tallow dripped on my sins. Bumping thighs of lusting omens, Upon a dais, enshrined, a basking cunt. Then troweling my...Read On

6

Perriwinkle

A periwinkle by any other name, With soft petals of blue  In pastels of hue. And I in somber rest,  Breathe life into my prose, In fields of lavender breeze,  And honeysuckle weeds. As we confess our endearing love, A soliquay of romance, While dancing on a pine cone's star. Dreams of woo from a Mason's jar, In continuation, of life's sweeten mead....Read On

6

Idle Chair

As I sit in my idle chair, glow worms light my lair, with a fuss about my dust, in thoughts of a puckered twat. As I compose raptured choirs, when the whore of my compose saunters a wiggle upon my penis, saddling a crooked staff. A wayfaring hum of pewter rum, snickering me to my knees, as I give toast to a muses sneeze, in thoughts of a puckered twat. On parchment, my land...Read On

5

Noggin's Gruel

In the yawning predawn as I toss, Upon the coming of new day caw. As the frost lay on the hearth, A new awakening in my eyes, Stirring embers of desires. Gone to crush my scrawling writ, Bashing with comeuppance, My naughty not nice. Tasting breath of last eve's rum, As your bosom kindled my will, And a tongue unfurled on my cock.  By the time, dark clouds of sins, Have passed...Read On

9

Sins Of A Fallen Angel

Silently hand scripted, words fading, into obscurity like a vanishing shadow, as my ink bleeds hollow, on the sins of a fallen angel, my prose ferments the showering rain. Brush-a-bye a tear of lost host, quaintly feigning a spiritual ghost, and when the winds carol my due, in the grasses of fescue,  seeds of time will bind my lines.  In my dally I feel your caress,  soft fingers on...Read On

6

A Nickel Jar

Beneath the hollows,  in forest of piney woods, as halos ring down and poetically sound. I nestle upon a nickel jar, of dreams and rhymes,  from a Mockingbirds hymnal,  and sleep. As Marigolds dance in my trance, I'm reminded of hominy and grits, and buttons you sewed, on my old shawl. When the breath of your touch, lay a blessing in my ear, with a tear I smiled,  nestled upon...Read On

9

Eden's Wildflowers

On a template of my shadow, Words in passing a distant far. Pressed in memories between pages, Like a faintness I caress, Among Eden's wildflowers. As a soft breeze crosses sleeping eyes, When you wink in boudoir rest. Whispers of murmurs I'll sing for you, Tantalizing hums upon your chest. And now that the cello bow on cue, Has laid down a sonata of blue. Seeds of thought will...Read On

8

Poetic Archer

With the tallow melted and the wick nil, Jack frost tat lace on the window sill. Woos plant a swoon on this bard's poetic archer, Last breath of verse for this scorcher. As the ashes on the grate kindle a spark, On the nib of quill before final dark. Bellows of the winds carol sweet delicacy, Like a lute with a spot gin in my mediocrity, And as I scribe last my spoken token. ...Read On

2

Raised Amicably

Before the five for a quarter on the juke, and before many rolls of fence wire. In my post Sammy Kaye days, while attending Dartmouth College, I took up muscle toning. Usually several times a day, I would stretch my weasel, hoping it would spit the wild wood flower and turn into a tree. It was while spitting my seed in the kitchen of a grits house, that I came upon my future troth....Read On

8

Pendulum Still

In the swells of my compose, Be it near or distant shoals As I await a pendulum still. The prose of my spin yens On high tide of the inkwell, Memories of yester-sorrows, As my sins were forgiven.  And in the corner of your eye, tears. I knelt before your crypt, As the shades of gray moved on. Into an orchard of melodies and songs, As shadow of my love hung long.  Now...Read On

6

Decked Out In Savannah

For like of a better word, the mist the size of mustard seeds, wrapped around my person. Like a shadow of footfall my shoes squeaked, causing me to look around in alarm, as if not being alone. The gas-lamp at the corner like a beacon, winked a small gaseous flame. Like distant echoes, but a stone's bobble away, I could hear the sounds of merriment in the nearing amble to the pub. There was...Read On

11

It's Just Life, I Suppose

The needle point of your eyes, Pin pricks my gospel soul. Fair weather of the Spring And bare awakening of my prose, From the cornerstone of a bordello. It's just life, I suppose. Suffering not the collywobbles, Nor under the influence of a pint of ale, On a fast track to Hell, By a cock sucker with a clit in her puss', Wearing second-hand support hose. It's just...Read On

7

Atop A Tier Tasty

I slipped on a dream, it seems, Between the theme of a love song And stumbled on a rainbow. As showers fell on God's umbrella Catching prose, As if a peel of a banana flew my feet. I fell for you in a porringer of ambrosia, And now we wed atop a tier tasty, Dancing on the icing. As if a peel of banana flew my feet, On satin sheets of roller skates....Read On

6

On The Way To St. Paul (Top's My Ala Mode)

On the road to St. Paul, highway sixty-five, I pulled into a truck stop just north of Louisville,  and got out my atlas. There I met a zephyr... a zephyr named Desire, she was kindling fires among eighteen wheelers, and recapped tires.  Between the eggs and bacon, her tits scratched my grits on top of the ala mode...  just as well I suppose, on highway sixty-five. At the cashier,...Read On

8

Double Dawg

All smiles from my easy chair, Double dawg by dogs that dare And strings from my heart. As my soul inclines on the wicker straw, Four letter words from chirping sparrows. Beneath the image from my pane, Drawing a hand of a Yarborough, And there upon a lead of glass,  Your eyes observe. Double dawg by dogs that dare, As you wander about my mind's tomorrow, A sachet...Read On

8

Lying low in Tupelo

Lying low in Tupelo and listening to the rain, Feeling no pain as music caresses my blues. It was there that I found her, Through the fog of my mind, As she was dancing on the window pane of my soul, Wearing nothing but high-button shoes and a smile. It took me by surprise, my idle while, But I had a bottle of booze, And weeping through my stain, I had nothing to lose. Lying low...Read On

7

White Charmeuse

Your arms about me as if a life's halo, my beautiful muse of the midnight show, as stars like cotton fall about the window, and the moon rest it eyes upon your shadow, in a field of white charmeuse. What, not a carousel? Then it must be a dream, a beautiful if, or maybe a calliope, in my sleep, and the keys of rainbow play a serenade,  on a pillow, resting my noggin,  ...Read On

8

Arcane's Achoo

My words at times may seem arcane, Before the call to 911 came, But I am the one to blame of my chosen core, The indigenous harp of the glockenspiel wheel. My mind's disclaimer as your tits lie-away still, I am not delirious, just a tad below my lawn shed, Dressed in a rubber room jacket, Scratching my head and pompadour. Squeezing the mustard from my sausage, And stirring...Read On

12

Trade Wind's Ballast

Te quiero pase lo que pase

In the distant caravel upon a sail The trade wind's ballast, As silence of dawn spawns, Footprints on my shadow.  I give thee alms of far reaching prose, On parchment of my soul, Your beauty be-told. And like the combs of the bees, Succulent sweet you bring me, As soft breezes sow your pollen of love, The trade wind's ballast. Te quiero pase lo que pase. (I love...Read On

6

Coal Tar And Ben-Gay

... the pallor of someone just passed.

Lately I have been suffering bouts of insomnia and started a love affair with ( La Fee Verte) Absinthe. I use it to relax but I am beginning to suspect that I am visioning things untrue. A pontarlier (reservoir glass) with a green liquid cascading the aroma of licorice. I slugged back another hit of the essence. My entire being now hooked to the ravishing of this drink. Like out...Read On

9

Little Acre Composed

The woos of still in silence, awakening thoughts As I reflect on the hollowness of my life, The millstone of my mind grinding poetic prose As you rest in a little acre composed.  Shedding the cider of my tears,  Genuflecting at the Midnight Mass, And the chorus raining downs halos,  As you rest in a little acre composed.  God's going to give me a searchlight, To lay a wreath...Read On

10

The Great Asterisk

It wasn't but a lyrical, When I had but a thought unwritten, By the tides of the moon, I embraced you, Yet I still loomed, the great asterisk. A verse, a stanza, anything admitting, A comma of true, Wishing you to stay the course, Of this poet, a dark choice. When I was but ink in the well of the quill, Something for me to eye before I inked, I was but a lowly noun, a...Read On

9

Word Songs

When the quill sings my word songs, And the heavens bless me, night long... Whispers of ghost I have toast righteously As the verses define me in slightly undress. With raw nakedness of my poetry, I wish you my fond adieu, And may you walk in my shoe, Feeling steps of raw emotion. ...Read On

7

Sealing Wax

What wiled me to failing life's gait, Wandering words of conscience prose, Has brought me to this faith. And when echoes fly me away as dust, May fleece be with you, another betroth. As in in life I failed my obsidian moth, And now as my flickering lit doth. Forgive me my misgivings of sin And acid stains of poetic pains, Like dew on a yew I seal my rest, With sealing...Read On

7

Arrivederci, Rachmaninoff

If I were to run from myself,  Where would I go to lay low? A shadow of my contralto,  In a crescendo, dare I say. Arrivederci, Rachmaninoff,  What better keys to tickle ivories. And what better words to crow, In my betterment if I cry, Infatuated by beautiful eyes,  A symphony of bliss. All things told a world of sticks  And the went of the nigh,  Like a hush of a heavenly host,...Read On

12
Recommended Read

Over The Pill

When we had first met, four weeks ago, Zelda had a case of bad hemorrhoids. A couple of days later as I was willfully treasure hunting in her anal cavities, I discovered autographed castanets by Xavier Cugat (1964) instead of piles. On the road, after the honeymoon, we were nearing Savannah. I was tiring and my endorphins were acting up. We checked in to the Hootchie Smooch Inn, and once...Read On

8

A Pallor Of Gray

Talk wordy to me Hurley.

You might recall, the last escapade when the Gooch's were returning home to Goose. Now she in her skin tight'ner and I in my truss had just returned to Savannah from a visit with her dwindling kinfolk in Arkadelphia. "Its Philadelphia, Hurley." A lot of things have happen in the passing few months. A parrot pecking off an ear. A alligator biting off two fingers and a piranha chewing my...Read On

11
Recommended Read

FeloniousGooch69

...welcome newbies

Recently married and now in their twilight cheering, he with a truss and she with her makeup smearing. Like shadows to gray, Zelda's fat ass blocked out the sun as it went to sleep on the horizon. In the distance and approaching was geriatric's answer to Ma and Pa Kettle's farm. Jumping leaps and bounds by using modified pogo sticks, Hurley and Zelda Gooch hit the asphalt of the...Read On

8
Recommended Read

Gravel In My Gurdy

...sounded as if Tommy Dorsey was playing his trombone.

In the old days I raised my dick with an electric motor from an erector set, but now I had modernized. If you recall, "From Over The Pill." It takes a few minutes to connect the moped motor to the stationary bicycle. That and the wires and tubes that attach to my scrotum and penis. I don't need the blue pill any longer. I left off as Hurley and Zelda were moped-bopping. The engine...Read On

21
Recommended Read

Hurley

I had struck-out with a eighty-three year old debutante down at the Moose Lodge. Her varicose veins looked as if a GPS system had crashed. Three weeks later we suffered the nuptials, followed by the swallows that followed us on our honeymoon to Swank's Motel and Taxidermist. She thought that convenient because it was Income Tax time. When I first met Zelda, she had told me that her...Read On

7

Surreys Ladder

Like a surreys ladder I ascend lofting to your thighs, The fickle of your sighs allowing me to brush, With feathering quill prosing fornication. The aught of the winds and quelch of the nigh As echoes of obsidian fall over my eyes, And with shadow I bring my stiffen birch, A bough shimmering to your folds of thirst. Whispering a kiss with your clits assent, As the...Read On

6

On Amorous Occasions

Like a porringer my mind ladles verses of chowder, Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet, Over wallops in the road and all things told. As the quill spoon-feeds my quest, At hour I lay me down to rest, When my eyes fall bleary  Searching for pages of my chatterings. And with a harbinger of thought I caress, The hollow in the well of my chest As you kiss me upon the cheek. In...Read On

7

Whispers Of Vermillion

Erstwhile, but a thought, A shenanigan ago, Without least the jargogling, On my window pane a quiet still, A carousel doily of frost. Like a shadow passing over my sill, Whispers of a vermillion fly-away bird, With verses for my inkwell to be heard. Silently stirring curds and whey of memories, Of how we danced winter's chill, And with thunder of baton, Croutons of rain...Read On

9

Dirty Words

Forgive me again for I have sinned,  Tapping my spigot in a most unkind way, Milking the goo with thoughts of you And paraphrasing dirty words. For I have your picture on the wall, Receiving them in the e-mail.  The one with tats on your tits And butterflies on your husband's balls. Forgive me again for I have sinned, Slapping calves liver on my foreskin, Sliding it fore...Read On

8

I Am, I Am

I am, I am, who I am,  A poet with crooked spin,  With a demeanor of braunschweiger, And cup of grins to wash away my sins,  Basting my liver with a pen. Without indulging in hugger-muggering, Quagswagging, squandering my testicles ooze, With an inkwell full of choose, You pickled a fine brine to cum,  My virginal swan. When my quill strums, The clit of your jar raised my mast, ...Read On

6

Suffering Not Woofits

Suffering not the woofits, for my mind is long and well, I bear a quill and some ink to chatter-up darken tales. Be it fulminous or near dusk, seeming a bit doolally,  my cock suckers-up to a peach,  if it's obviously raised with swell. And now that the peat is on the moss, I am at loss for anabiosis, when the cunt is on the floss, I remain loss in your woo. But as my words of...Read On

9

Becomes The Dew

Where trees stand tall, I am but a shadow small, In meadows where dandelions blow, Resonating in a place Cardonnacum of thistles. And where the forest grows the waters fall, From high above a cascades tower, Like an acorn you caress woodland flowers, Where trees stand tall hour of showers. And there upon I gazed on you, A landscape in a shade of hue. And on your chest a...Read On

7

...of ooga-ooga

On eventide of yearn snickering, cruising on flit of a breeze, my tittle-tattle unshackled,  as my meandering seethes. 'Neath the shadow askew, wind-knockers descend with sighs ado, less fanfare of ooga-ooga. With the spittle of my babble, I scribble neat,  spun on the bobbin,  yester night's feat. Like a scythe slicing wheat, as a bale of quail flutter, green eyes sleep, behind gables...Read On

6

Kisses On Your Cradle

In the sling-bag of my mind, deep haversack of rhymes, slung over my shoulders,  before Sandman close my eyes. A flask of wine we shared, when wedding bells toll, at the catechism of the clit, genuflecting to your well. On dew's midnight shawl, and dawn's sighing sable, kisses on your cradle, the clam between the thighs. Like a poet with full satchel,  a quill-man I confess, ...Read On

7

Mist Shrouding

Garnishing prose, green ivy, webs the scent of musk, bittersweet words I scribe, tales erotically.  Muscatel my swill of flute, praises upon your chest, as I tongue your ripe nipple  with a mist shrouding. And thorns about your bosom, trailing echoes of my lust  and shadows of the kiss, fleece of golden triangle.  As lips about your flesh, swooning silent drippings, with stick...Read On

8

Twilight Beggins

Twilight Beggins going to sing a song, Of carousels and swirling whirls. With hurdy-gurdy girls and golden curls, And musical fingers dancing, On the keys of a calliope. Twilight Beggins going to sing a song, In eternal sleep, a fantasy print of dawn, Of a hoofer with top hat and spats. Soft-shoeing on sand and smiling mightily. Scooting the Blues, stir dyed in memories, From so...Read On

5

In The Caw

Be still my feather of gauche, After a jigger of sour mash broth, Fetchin' you in the caw, In good stead of my humors. Raising the flask in my fervor, Between verses of attic-salt, Moments before my chowder bash, Being I am mindful in my lassitude. Without a tic the scurvy of omens, Scribbling with marrow of my quill, Anfractuous prose composed, As my tongue descends with a kiss, ...Read On

8

Words In The Nomenclature

In little fools, less forgotten, With lines of the down trodden And breath of poet's depth, 'Neath the wick and a writing stick. Of words in the nomenclature, A tallow of your shadow stood, Like a tree of the pine, your truth shines, On the rings of a moon's halo.  And in the quiver of my mind, isms flow, Concepts of this bard's catechisms, Bearing fruit of sensuality in my abode,...Read On

10

Tally Me

When I slept and counted my steps, A dream I tallied of your sublime love, As words came to me in whispers as I stepped, Walking softly on clouds and listening to stars. When the rain falls the banisters will call, For angels with umbrellas and golden wings. Confessions of a sinner and now a bell ringer, And now as I genuflect at the apse, A spirit of meadowlark brushed my ghost, ...Read On

9

Without The Jimjams

Ostentatiously my words callously script,   Beneath the shadows of her midnight tongue, Defining most unkindly poets of well read lips. For in prose I scribble a diddle of woo, Dribbling of sins and yin yang too. And when the moon wink with dusk cue, I plant my brunt in your cunty-do, As my cock wades in the well, Drowning in tea of manmade slew. Blessed are maidens that...Read On

7

Mimosa Shadows

In shadows of mimosa woods, Between downy winds of mistletoe, Sensually awakening my seek In garden of tulip-cups keep. A scent of your loveliness steeps, In whispers I speak, My ever-loving so blue, Soft quarters of quilted, I stood. 'Neath the boughs of the trees, Between downy winds of mistletoe, And when the humming birds tither I remember the words September. As...Read On

5

Nickle Of Dusk

For the umpteenth time a shadow fall on nickel of dusk, In stagnation of dark 'maginations. Five o'clock pantomime doing my time as I gasp, Sipping vermouth and a cocktail digitalis. Of black carnations and dissertations, high above in my campanile,   Silently flat-lined in post mortem, whispering argle-bargle. Doing my rendition of poets now dead, And there on the apse...Read On

6

Devil's Tablet

In Darukavana the dead lay low,  'neath the knobs pine trees blow, cold moon rising into the sky  as webs of frost like doilies lie. And when the wile flows my grin, in ascription from my pen, doing a little naughty sins  while caroling dark omens. With bucket-pail of amens' I feel presence of the chill,  curses bringing long time thirst with aspirations of my curse. And you...Read On

8

...of the crabapple

A candle's tallow lit of wick, with prose I get last kick at the hour of choir,  in my scribulation. In destiny's shade beyond, I bid thee my fond adieu, two spits from gone,  'fore dust settles on my song. Intoxicated by your obsidian wings, taking flight on tallow lit  like a moth to my erotic shoals, in a rucksack I spawn. Six feet buried in eternal pond, 'neath shadows of...Read On

13
Recommended Read

Verses Tossed

When the frost is on the verses tossed, In disregard of other woes, Like fractured doilies on broken limbs cry As moaning sun set and crimson moon crest. There I scribe of ever-sheen green eyes, Absolute in my elocution queues, When the wind in its arabesque rise Beneath the crescendo posing prose. With garland kisses lying upon your chest,   When the frost is on the...Read On

9

Moody Monday

Sing me blue, sing me true, When all is gray and new mown lay, Marigolds going to make it shine. Spoon-feed me love On moody Monday. Like flowing silk, milk of honey, Lips of sweet glowing flowers, On your face a blushing rush, As smiles of your kisses touch my soul. Whisking me away, effervescent showers, When all is gray and new mown lay, As raindrops fall a bow of harmony, ...Read On

10

Hat Trick

When Captain in the crows nest's Gives me my queue, And an albatross dosen't fall from sky, Hopefully a hat trick before final die With my starboard bonny lass. And when the longshoremen carry me off, A wisp of a lash I will feel your warm sigh, Before raising the mast and rowing the oars, Kisses and rum with seafaring whores. Manning my cannon I stroke it with fingers, ...Read On

9

Arbuckle

The knuckles of my cock rock,   In my drawn-up sack pack   Listening to Bach on the electric dynamo,   As the gizmo of my mind compose. Little Arbuckle that you are As jewels of your tits tingle my brow, With dashes of empress clitty chow,  Fortuitous cunt, look at you now.  Putting the wow onto my prow, Raising the corpuscles in my wick, Little Arbuckle, my falling star  ...Read On

12
Recommended Read

Trembling Bellows

...tears and rending vellum

Conceived by unwed winds And seducing eyes, The lantern hides your clever disguise. Bow silently my cello With mournful mellow trembling bellows And kiss my knobbing. Raising your thighs At dusk tides pendulum, Wending through tears and rending vellum For in webs behind my station My fantasies are rationed, Obsession with a ghost I fair. Like a tempest with a feather, Her...Read On

10

Soixante-neuf

A carafe of wine and wandering willy Doing soixante-neuf in slow time, A shimmer darkness falls over my pall, Saving the amen for my tarmac. With a scintilla of ink my last breath call, 'Fore the spade diggers lay me final sleep And my shrill thralls forever coffin deep, Gone are the lips that caressed my fess. Kissing shadows of pantomime host As your soft breath eased my...Read On

8

Gift Of Om

The fissures of my prose not last, Like cracks of glass my darken past And when dusk lay dust at my pillow, I scribe of my ebony-green eyes. With musing wick of my quill stick As the tallow drips, Surrounded by the lit halo As a shadow to a mime's kiss. Shedding light of my romance, My verses trumpet seduction As the moth's wings flutter, Upon my chest bearing crystal. ...Read On

9

True To A Cornice

So being so kind and loving you, a little bit of cement, we sealed with a kiss. When the cornices started graying and the darkening words bloomed,  my simpatico eased and erotica gelled. Becoming an eccentric to rhymes and words, occasionally sipping from the cunt-loom but passed are the rites giving me blight. To be anything but mortar between the lines, as mockery is to crockery...Read On

8

A Wee Tad Tallow

The minuscule of space lower case, Better than steps my sounder. In bedlam of a spider's kiss, A little bit dark, a wee tad tallow. Yet in reiteration my adoration,  Scrolling high up on the winds, With shades erotica and colors mute, Nipping at my nape as I swallow. Swinging on webs dusty mites, Essence of a whispering sigh, Closing ranks betwixt my thighs And oaring my...Read On

17
Recommended Read

Oranges And Plums

Oranges, plums and especially tea, made up my chest of values.

It was the years of the Moguls, 17th century India. The Dutch and the English wishing the trade of India's goods. I, Rami, the first son of a Maharaja, was bequeathed his estate and vast landholdings. My wealth wasn't so much in jewels and gold, as it was, what the orchard trees grew. Oranges, plums and especially tea, made up my chest of values. The marketplace of Surat was bustling, a...Read On

27
Recommended Read

...doesn't make a story

A hoot doesn't make a story, and it ain't a bad thing to be a troll. Let's just say, I have a tendency to be ugly and my focal point is my snout. I don't live beneath a rock or under a bridge, but I am squeamish when it comes down to frogs and ghouls. And this crap about Rock n Roll is all bullshit, but I do know a line. "Cause even trolls love...whatever." Like I said, that is all...Read On

9

...of a Spirit I fly

Now that I crossed over the river deep, Into the raging inferno of Hell's damnation, As the rapid currents take my soul. Would you send by Western Union, A cablegram bitter-keep? Would you sign it faux paus and keep it neat? For thine is the wisdom and I the dark tallow, Born of sin and craving the quiche of your sweet. It was masturbation that done me in, As my hand struck ten, and...Read On

12

All Hallows Will

In my bailiwick high up on the knave,  Scratching ink spots in deviant shades. My plume of nib pens metaphorical hums Of ghosts, tall willows and mumble-pegs. If the dark doesn't awake you, The ides of All Hallows' will, When the corn stalks have shrunken And floss of the candle shrills. I'm a ghoul, a lover, not a spook with a boo, My muse with a goiter a ten dollar whore, ...Read On

12

Then The Still

When the tiger fire sun has fallen on the horizon, And cerulean sky rests to sleep, Caressing memories of hearts and flowers. And the cork of the day has turned to rust, As the copious oak sleep among the Arcadian 'Neath the sparkling stars of the chalice. In silence, woodwinds blow Wysteria hours, As piccolo reeds sway in dance, Forever more woods on chore light my kindle ...Read On

9

Bit Gauche

I'm a little bit gauche when it comes to sticky wickets and my oversight, When a dead man's collar turns up and becomes stiff.  But I do play a mean calliope when the steam has built up in the boiler, And my testicles are hanging straight as tomatoes staked in a gar'doon. Being as they are fruit of the yardarm and starboard of the pumpkin patch, As jack-o'-lanterns sing of All...Read On

10

Bringing Parables

Dead shadows sow no seeds, Nor dew freeze fallen leaves. But words of poets spoken, Forever bringing parables, Restoring my faith in romance, Of psalms and Heaven all above. And when I plant my troth on your lips, Let no bellows blow apocalypse As we kiss 'neath the apple tree, Forever bringing parables....Read On

15

A Marmalade Kiss

Love is blind to a witches brew of darker hue...

Like a fine wine of Vermouth and sins, The earthen stones lie between vines tucked in. Of lines written in modest detail, The leaves cover like the sweetest sheets, Stanzas of words not defined. Yet the cork in the bottle pop drugged showers, In the meadows of golden flowers. And like a cracker with a marmalade kiss, The headiness of wine mixes with bliss of lips A musical cacophony heard...Read On

10

Before The Hoo

When the chill is on the morning frost, And the book reader done verse, As my bones lie at rest and hoe-diggers dug. Dead men bury no sins, They just grin, stroking their tokens When the dusk turns to rust And weeds cover my epitome.  The dowager greed's  And little green eyes read my leaves,  Like dust I rot beneath the stone, Getting my rhythm and spewing cum. It...Read On

7

Dead Man's Butter

Just a tad dead and a lay in my manger, This old fucker ready to pucker Beneath the clay and graveling dirt, Bound by nails and plywood sheets These old bones go marching on. Just a little bit snarly and full of grit, This old fucker ready to pucker  On slick slits and landing strips. And when my lips begin to hover, Hum me pecker before you shutter As I ooze my dead...Read On

6

Bed Of My Cries

Fractured memories make me cry, When the dew is on the yew And my tears have not dried. As your soul sets sail On a cold sea in November, Leaving me with fractured memories With no words to utter, but a prayer. But in dreams when I lay me down On bed of my cries, I count the memories In the vase of your ashes....Read On

10

"What A Feat!"

By virtue of my warbling and prose, My penis-neat, straight up. "What a feat!" Like a stalk of corn Ready to shorn some pussy. And if the clit don't bite My cock will survive another night, Beneath the bed knobs and chandeliers As she grasp me by the ears. Leading me astray in cahoots with a cunt,  My quill will tattle of arse and fresh air. As my testicles testify...Read On

9

Death Is So Passé.

Now that my past rest in deep, Death is so passé. This old poet, lays knick-knack, 'Neath the sweep of eternal's broom. May my bones rust in peace As memories run here-to-ponder, Before I kiss the cliffs of your vagina. And now that the teabag steeps, After the teapot bops, Save the last string for my dance. Drawing pause to your rising hips, As your clit touch my lips, ...Read On

10

Fair Token

If you would be so kind, take a moment, My fair token, loaned to me in longevity And poetically sway my way with verses. Taking my breath away with kisses, While dancing on steps of a dream, My fair token. If you would be so inclined, Your shadow would follow me true, Silently whispering, I love you, And caressing my sleeping flesh. As on tomorrow we wed, My fair token. The first...Read On

9

Roll On

As the dust gathers on my valiance of life, And the sun falls between the shades. I have given my best to rest my laurels Before the the last encore of my breath. And when they carry me away After your kiss, "Roll on hearse, keep on rolling," Until the shovel fills my cold oven. And after a few words of Proverbs, I will return to you between the shades....Read On

9

Borderline-Blue

In my borderline-blue as teapot whistles, On a winter's morn of winter's cold And frost on the prose of last night's quill, My thoughts of killer-green eyes As a simmering steam shows A shadow of you, To cast out my melancholy. With a kiss of the scent And a wild lemon zest, You caress the old bard's soul  With a wisp of a daydreams mist,  On the shores of borderline-blue....Read On

11

Bit Of Brunch

Of whiskey, women, and bit of brunch, perhaps a dilettante with a whore  and an urge for a toss on the bunk. Old hags and crones do it better when the frost is on a jack o lantern, as ghouls play and old fools rot. Whoopee-do cream and a jigger of cunt, stirred by the woofing cock-eye and hammering the anvil of the clit. Come October and the owls hoot with ginger, spice and...Read On

12

Flyaway Robin

Those with wisdom beyond the sea, They are ones I feel most comfortly. When soft breath caresses my soul, The words of gospel I compose. Breaking bread with sensuality, And my swooning mind digest The beauty of your flesh. Oh what a bless on this earth, When a flyaway robin lay nest, And you grew into ambivalence, Before the wind took you away. And your sympathetic words of a bird,...Read On

12

Mortimer Eppes

...dilly, dilly

In my wildest imagination, I wished to be the scourge of the high-seas, but I would settle for some woman's misfortune. Perhaps a few laps with her around the catacombs of my basement walls, would do my alter ego. I had just recently penned a 'wet seller' (erotic) that sold out the first printing. Now the presses were printing more. My pen name being Mortimer Eppes, a name better off...Read On

10

...and Butterfly do-Part 2

It was late. Overtime was mandatory. I worked on the assembly line at a small 'mom and pop' factory. I screwed screws into a doohickey, as things moved down an assembly line. It was boring, but it helped with the rent and bills, "just to earn a dollar." The plant was finishing a mass order from a vendor that sold toys. Like all hourly-earners, I was just a number at a time-clock. I,...Read On

12

...and Butterfly do

...big ol' rig is shaking

My switcheroo almost complete from one to another. Transformed from that of male, into the ravishing body of what reflected from a full-length mirror. A beautiful woman, Transgendered. Standing at five-foot ten inches tall a gorgeous creature. My new look was long chestnut hair and blue eyes. Nice shapely hips and just a shadow of a smallish cock. Soon to be unattached, with surgery for my...Read On

10

Denim In Oswego, Part 2

It was before dawn in Oswego. Most citizens in their right mind were sleeping. Fester didn't know a mind from a hole in the ground. "I feel frisky, Earl." "My nom de plume, is Fester." "What does your numb plums have to do with wanting some cock?" "Why me Lard, why me?" "I feel frisky, Fester." "It ain't that cold, put a sweeter on." I reached for her orange jump suit, the one...Read On

12

Denim In Oswego

I had just got my pecker caught in the chicken-coop door. It had been a non-typical day on my farm in Oswego. It started with the cockamamie rooster crowing off key at three in the morning. In reality, a damn toad with laryngitis. Being as I pee, sleep, poop and play whoopee in my bib overalls, I'm ready to go at the fart of a peach. My lovely wife, who I call Salamander (forgot her...Read On

12

Lean Acres And Harpoons

...lean acres is the place for me.

As any true southerner knows, there are places 'down yonder in Dixie', where the swamps never rise and the swamp chickens (frogs) croak off key. What happened to me, happened with my consent - even though I was covered in calamine lotion to ward off mosquito bites. * It was a Friday evening. I was taking a night off from my lounge; a private lounge and discreet, catering to...Read On

13
Recommended Read

Mind's Chateau

What happens to Adagio, stays here, like festering currents of my libido while being a little cajoling,  and all that's not. I chose a prime time to fuck you, when the frost freezes my ooze and goblins go "trick or treat,"  on my withering cock-spool. Dark is well, in my minds chateau as my sanity digest your seductive tallow, gone are the jeers who balk at my canter of whisky...Read On

12

Wind Strings

Like wind strings on a kite as petals weep, silently soaring above love song serenade, with sails and memories poetically swelling my heart, from a distance of a dream my kisses reach as if sung-strum melodies,  on a bow of a rainbow. Like winds strings on a kite when the grass turns over, a dewdrop will sigh as you lay beneath the grass, alone but not forgotten as petals weep,...Read On

6

From A Tree

When darken words overshadow my being, I scribble a few lines of poetic ripple and listen to the flow calm my dribble, all is never dressed in black but all of life begins in the womb, where a light doesn't glow. In time my gloom becomes a flower, like petals on a gifted hour my thoughts turn to you, all is never dressed in black when sowing my seed, and you given birth ...Read On

9

A Short Way

It's a short way across our rainbow, when there is an escalator to my heart and the rain showers of spring bring golden jubilee of our wed,  and how the seasons flew twelve months times many on backs of singing sparrows in our nest of gifted years, its a short way across our rainbow when I'm penned to your soul with tears of pearls, I kiss your happy face....Read On

8

Odd Fellow

In my midlife boon without any remorse, all spruced up in my cock-corset ties, pillbox hat, blue menthol lyptus  and scented balls. Wishing it a clit with a concussion   and the heebie jeebies filling my tank, as I sparkled with bustle and long lashes decked out as a wench with highfalutin shoes. As my penis gets a spontaneous eruption, when the fans unbutton my pants ...Read On

7

...With Anyone But Me

Thank you BethanyFrasier for editing

Those who have read me, will know that I am not prone to exaggeration. So with that, I will begin. Every word printed below is the truth, as I see it. If one lives long enough, there are two things that are certain. One: you will get cataracts, and two: your expiration date will expire. Recently, I have started stroking the weasel by looking at abs and inflated bosoms in magazines....Read On

6

Nighter's Moon

Not I a flannel-mouth, for I ratchet my words in verse like a boar's tusk quill, as my fingers etch patterns on her breasts, erotically brewing castrated prose on nighters' moon. Not I a flannel-mouth when my tongue hums, and my cum fizzles my spew swelling my withering crook. And when the clone swallows her lick, my drooling spill becomes the dusk of day, when...Read On

7

Wings Of A Robin

It seems I came under a glitch, I lost tempo in my writs like a spell I could not tell, as shadows fell on a robin's breast  the words I need to sow, in my lovers basket. And now the straw that snapped my back, cannot mend my sins, I harken to you. So give me moment to digest as I lay my last rest, in the fields of Oswego on the wings of a robin I confess, ...Read On

10

Land Of Caribou

Missing my eternal sleep, by the touch of a halo  and swallowing my pride, by turning over a leaf in the land of caribou. With the nib of my pen and scribbling new threads, becoming sentimental on falling snow. For whom the heavens shine, romantically incline, sweet kisses and wine, and cuddling my woo. Beneath the midnight sun  in the land of caribou, with dreams...Read On

11

Kickstand

...cabbage rolls and James Brown.

I have never confessed to being gay or engaging in buggering. It's just understood. I was never a 'real' male, after the initial soundings in my urethra. They making me swoon down to my socks in my effeminate canter. Now four weeks after being castrated and having my scrotum cauterized. The vibes of the wands were making me smile as I started up the mobile. I was working as an apprentice...Read On

6

Dragon's Tooth

Alone an laughing with my imagination and picking my teeth with a dragon's tooth, as the mortician is bequeathing me a ditch. Like amethyst in coal-still quarters, if death doesn't kill you, my humor will. Silently echoing though vibrating bone,   ain't nothing sweeter then lean toad meat. Unless nibbling on the cob of a clit when my stalk is leap-frogging on chummy thighs, ...Read On

8

Two Cubes Will Do

It wasn't willy-nilly, our love we confessed And listened to birds caroling the eve of our wed. I believe in prayers of golden rings, Of sixty years the short time wed, And the knitting yarn you wore with charms... Jack and Jill chimes. Hey barkeep! One more please. I believe in rainbows with stairs and banisters to hold on to, rocking chairs with chariot wings  and silly little...Read On

6

Diggers Howl

I remember the time When you twine the love bite on me, Giving my penis a purple hickey And drool dripped from my jowls, Now as the mildew has fallen On my old cock and bones, And the bank has foreclosed On my hollowed out casket, I lay in pallor gray As the gravediggers howl, Soured in embalming fluid And little bit pickled, Sloshing at my flesh With cotton stuck up...Read On

10

Where Are You, Guy Lombardo?

It was within an hour's period of time, as the thunder yelled a symphony of storms. The musk of anatomy wafted over her outer shell and, like a watermelon spitting seeds, I needed to breathe the musk of her cunt. I was in the second year of my consensual service, willingly giving my offered cock to the soundings. My penis drooled like a mad shaker of salt. She was offering new heights of...Read On

6

Ditch-Men

It was not but withering storm,  And a smiling grave digger Counting his coins, When the ditch-men cover my lair As I lay within my keeper box, Entwined by prose meant for you Of dried ink and memories, There are more quills of the baton for poets to pass, So touch the hearse that ended my journey And lay a wreath on my epitome, Weep no curses of my passing From...Read On

6

Raspberry-Champagne

Last night the collywobbles took hold and the ache was long. I managed to write these few words for you in the form of a Flash, before Pepto-Bismol soothed my quarters. *** I knew by the sound of the cork pop, that this wasn't going to be an abbreviated fuck. With a twist, the fizz spewed. Shedding her gown, we kissed. With an ambling shade of lace, she approach me with her wanton...Read On

8

Storm Brewing

In the shadows of it all beneath the storm brewing, as my hungering appetite  for dark clouds stewing,  spittle of words digesting my persuasion,  penning fornication  of erotic herbs. Like a turbulent cyclone  my cock rise, silently in the eye the goo ooze, deeply of my sweet sorghum  in masterful baton, the tympani tolls as my testicles digest, the seductive queue. And prawns...Read On

7

Like A Sparrow

Like a sparrow I spread my wings, caressing with prose my words sing with quill and feather my verses ring, love songs caroling in the breeze bringing me to my knees. I saw a sparrow fall, high above the trees, as it fell from the blue pudding sky. I pen these tweets true to you, keep warm the nest until my return, like a sparrow I flew beyond the clover with wishes of kisses...Read On

8

CSR

In the latest escapade of The Cum Slinger, a character of only my mind. A character that often leaves Cum Shot Residue, (CSR) at the edge of the divide. My shadow and flesh can usually be seen behind the mesh in my bookshop, conniving with Rowanberry ink. Often as not, imbibing a nog of rum. I am not often given to exaggerations, but it was a slow day. I cover expenses by scribbling out...Read On

5

Winged Didgeridoo

I met Evelyn on a blind date arranged by a fellow book-monger. I was in between a silence in my life of romance after a wind-of-flu carried away my last love. Evelyn was an unmarried mom of two and whatever happen still remains unsaid. Ones that know me well, know that I blow the truth. What I am about to tell you is a tale of the didgeridoo. Two weeks in... Like talons, her fingers...Read On

10

Genuflection Of A Swallow

Its a longtime it seems, not so many teardrops ago, Genuflection of a swallow.  When the soft winds sung and wedding bells rung, And now the wrens have made their nest. In the old church steeple that shadows my final rest, There the kisses of the rainbow fall on my shoulders. Lasting memories our golden rings, Its a longtime it seems in eternal dreams. When you laid me down in...Read On

7

Until

A never-ending love, eternal's gift from you, Like a thread on a spool forever we are twining As the silver lining of our wed quilts our spread, And when the thimble runs over with kisses The buttons that we sewed told our true,  I will be there to share a string to tide me over  Until my life unwinds and the bobbin goes quiet, Burying me with your needle....Read On

6

Bard's Host

What is it about a bard's host...

What is it about a bard's host? Host to a chest of forgotten lore, Like dark Amethyst wanting to spread,  Kisses on your wondrous being. It is not I who dog-eared my curse And placed it in put-a-way stain, Only to be released when ink spots sing,  Caroling chants of old dead monks. On parchment beneath the candle lit, Dust mites dance on shadows of pantomime  And tits of curlicues touch...Read On

8
Recommended Read

A Long Time Of...

Where once the breezes blew, The winds of times now ail, and new storms brew, Standing lonely hours of truth On bed of my lies, (mediocrity at best...) As your eyes of cat deceived me But I paid the price. Isn't that the way fools spin excuses And spots never fade, (maybe stripes...) Leaving the good of my got crying? On bed of my lies, In my new anointed life of deceit,...Read On

9

Fell From Grace

...love song to share

Where albatross fly and some fools die, I had in mind a love song to share, (unfortunately lost words...)  But would you recall the names of my fall And shadows of it all, (sometimes I don't understand the gist of it all...) Would you if you could? I in shallow waters up to my last verse With fond memories of our rippling spawn, What am I to say after bitter almonds our way ...Read On

8

Lucifer's Bow 6

 I knew I was starting to fall deeper in love with my stepsister. I wasn’t too sure she felt the same about me. I knew Kat had her main lover Rhonda and she also had sex with me too. I was hoping maybe Kat would allow me to fuck Rhonda and give them both pleasure together. My new fantasy was having a threesome with Kat and her lover. I wondered if she'd allow me to please them both. ...Read On

11

Lucifer's Bow 5

Gray imagined that Kat would be just as excited when Gray would have breasts. He knew that Rhonda and Kat were lovers, but Gray wanted to be Kat's only bitch. He loved his mistress in so many ways. The breasts would just complete his whole presentation. He thought himself predestined, and looked forward to the day, that he would be the loveliest of a whore. The whore that he hoped would...Read On

8

Lucifer's Bow 4

Special thanks to BethanyFrasier for editing

Lucifer's Bow, a ring of harbor buoys, now shrouded by fog. So distant they seem, when the fish don't bite, but things have a way of cutting through the fog. * Gray went into the bathroom and scrubbed his face. He removed all the make-up, and then stepped into the shower to wash himself off, making sure the water was icy. His sphincter was still tingling from all the thrusting and pounding...Read On

13

Lucifer's Bow 3

Special thanks to BethanyFrasier for a compete edit...

Time became Autumn, nearing Winter, when Gray fell into a side of himself for which he alone could devine the answers. His effeminate mannerisms were beginning to roost and sprout a darker side of his character. If there was a closet to come out of, he didn't know if emerging from it was either comfortable or suited his taste. * He liked the feel of this extension of his personality, but...Read On

17

Lucifer's Bow 2

I owe BethanyFrasier a ton for making this story work

At the head of the bay, like a piece of wood adrift, sits Lucifer's Bow. Ripe for sins when the pelicans descend for their dinner, and the sounding bars hum. "Groeten aan de duivel," ( Greetings from the Devil) ringing in my ear. Kat finally came home and I was in the same place she had left me. My mind was racing at what she had done to me - things that I imagined or secretly thought as I...Read On

25

Lucifer's Bow 1

Special thanks to BethanyFrasier for a complete edit...

Lucifer's Bow, one of many small islands that dot the Maine coast. First settled by the Dutch in the Seventeenth Century, the village is inhabited by descendants of time past. * Have you ever wondered what it was like to be raised by hippies? Well, my father and my stepmother were living at a time when it was all about free love, marijuana, concerts and tats. The biggest thing happening...Read On

6

The Shaker

It seems my fans are like the winds, Some blow while others whisper And like a silent tambourine The ink of my prose rings, As if a baton, my quill leads the monkey With dark adventures of the flesh, As my cock stands tall in the saddle And her tongue swashes my drool, In truth, her cunt the organ grinder And my cock the tiller of writ, Spreading my jam on the bellwether ...Read On

6

Moments Of Woo

In a distance of a circle And the lap of the woods, Like bees buzzing in honeycomb trees A scent of hush falls over me In moments of our woo, Shooing the briars away As whispering boughs sway And shadows fall on pinecones, Your eyes of evergreen Like beacons of the night, On carpet of moss we soon lay And I embracing my Carolina swoon, In moments of woo....Read On

5

Chains Of Temperance

In my new calling over the horizon Hauling my chains of temperance, I'll be swatting prose with a set of feathers While sipping fermented ambrosia, And doodling my quips on memories, As the nib of my penis cry lost inspiration Gone are the pebbles and beaches of palms As grains of sin mark my sigh, It wasn't but a fall I slipped from grace And my prose became a farce ...Read On

6

Threads

Days are like thimbles when one sews, For the good rhymes of love When one quills with golden feathers, As a spool unwinds days of our past And your soft fingers bring back memories Caressing my mind,  Like a missing button on an old blouse The one that fastens over my heart, Threads of our love stitched These sixty years....Read On

6

O'er My Rainbow

Gnawed bones are not but a Piccolo, When the vampire wears tinted glasses  And my head resting on a pillow With a caw o'er my rainbow, As the ghee runs through my bones Whilst lying here in mellow wrap, Listening to the wake of distant hums With a shadow of pale breath And soon it will be dusk, Thinking of your talons caressing my epitome And fingers going where morticians wouldn't dare ...Read On

4

Tall Grass

Now that tall grass covers my shadow And I on the other side of refrain,  Whispers of my quill come caroling While in vagabond shoes scribing yore, You sit on a cushion of lily pad With scent of honeysuckle zest  Beneath the yew on bank of dawning dusk, While I in vagabond shoes whisper melodies And gone are the gables and growing ivy,  In awe of your brimming smile  ...Read On

6

Cyanide And Muscatel

Nearly departed in my new attire of earth and bones, It wont be long before the Boll Weevil returns  With long black tails and a grin on my chin, Garnished with morticians incisions  In a musky cell with a lid on the box, It wasn't but a moment's gasp and I felt no pain Beneath a wretched trance as fingers danced, Your insane thighs grasping my cock Fetching my withering...Read On

7

Shadow Of The Moth

Now falling into pale with umbra, With a shadow of the moth on my grave And my bones but acres of petrified stones As wilds winds howl my fodder, Like dust from a bucket spilling my past I give my spew to you as you rest, Tickling your clit as it springs from its nest And there your hips rise in confess, Pussy survives even though unwed Oh! bountiful cunt on the dais...Read On

10

The Bay Window

When the aperature of my life blinds out the light  And the sirens wink in my waking sleep, I look out through the bay window and see dying kelp As the tides come in on my epitome, Washing away marrow of my bones Lying alone in a box of man made sins With sea chest of confessions scribed with squid ink, Now the sirens caress my wilting image Of remembrances of shadows I have...Read On

14
Recommended Read

Withers

My withers may be long and grey  But my mind long remembers Yesteryears catechisms And proverbs of the flesh, Hovering over a wet chalice While stroking six white inches Saddling a ripe peach, When the fruit begins to cream And standing tall in the saddle, Before tomorrow's apocalypse With semen dripping from your lips....Read On

7

Ravens Caw

What the ravens see When veil of dark soon comes over me In my eternal sleep I will dream of thee As I rest in silent quarters of my box With whispers of your lasting love Carrying me down the long trail To the meadows and falling springs Of staircases to distant shores  Beneath the chandelier of stars And here we kiss the night I pass Then you weep and teardrops fall  ...Read On

3

Coffin House

My memories fade to past As worms get fat on my epitaph Within my coffin house Beneath the grass As sun sets on my bones Whispering sayonara And there you lay against my stone  With your legs spayed and giving head Sucking on a gravedigger's shaft Just a few moments of I my being dead As worms get fat on my epitaph While you hand them dental floss And mooning your...Read On

11
Recommended Read

Valley Of Hallelujahs

It wasn't but a raindrop but to me it was a tear As I felt the ebb tide of your breath slip away  In dreams I cried and your dying eyes sighed With a last kiss I prayed silently  In memories of moments ago Then the heavens caroled a love psalm blue  Songs sung true and songs of you  Beneath grey clouds the angels crooned And then your halo glowed like a tiara  Resting upon your golden hair...Read On

4

My Snafu

Clearing my noggin of conscience and sins while knocking back jiggers of gin  and munching on peanuts and little stipends, as I scribed with my tongue on her chest  half a league onward from her love nest. Happy Hour hasn't begun yet for my little wallflower scrunching on shells, as her clit swells in it's gel  and I lapping her feisty little shunt. As she flashing in the enclosure...Read On

2

Be Dead

Shifting gears on pages of dark erotica Like road tar my lips stick to you  Eerie words from poets be dead Broadcasting on the CB radio Switching into overdrive on retreads And my prose ain't done yet As my tongue lurches with thirst This old bard begins to curse Eerie words from poets be dead Crossing over to a fast lane Like I'm insane Broadcasting on the CB radio ...Read On

7

Whooshes

The whooshes of silence bring me echoes In my gloom midnight chill With phalanges of digits I scribble thirst Whispering warm chowders of lust As my lips sip in the orchard While swooning in sweet broth Of your spicy peach as it seeps Stirring the whooshes rushing my gush And then hardening my archery In thrust I plunge my seed While swooning in sweet broth Nectar...Read On

6

Distant Echoes

Where the silence of winds whisper distant echoes my prose will blow words still as soft as new mown hay,  in the meadow of stones where people lay.   And my words being trumped by manmade sins as my quill drips my life's journeys  at the gathering of all my wool, and there I will gather all my thoughts.  The poet master weeps on darkening fall  as scribbling ink squall graying flesh, ...Read On

8

Libretto

In low voice of my operatic libretto And my meanderings in darkly woods  Swishing my tongue in lustful verses As the ratchets of my mind descend Hungering for lust as moths arabesque Upon your swooning soft define Like a sparrow awaiting nocturnal kiss  And with lips exploring your breasts at rest My fingers caress your prickly pear As the stem of your fruit seeps its sweets ...Read On

7

Then

And then the meadowlarks tweet in the Autumn the pumpkins lit beneath the marmalade moon,  as we danced on dew  and cornstalks too. Quite the whispers of fallen leaves scattering in patterns of new found love,  whisking away our soft kisses  as shadows define our whimsical bliss,  and then the meadowlarks tweet....Read On

7

Butterflies Do

Whisper me awhile in slow-time as your words echo, caroling, whisper to me honey-bee trees and kisses with a soft touch. Whispering winds and butterflies do. Whisper me awhile in slow-time as I caress and hungering for you  whisper to me, "I need you so,"  yearning for your lips. Whisper me awhile in slow-time psalms for 'morrows daily bread, whisper to me, "Oops-a-Daisy," when...Read On

4

Down To A Nub

Be not shorn my dark ink of prose For in words I compose lust Of slathering slew erotically brewed Giving you tongue of verses song In muted moans mounting my shank Screaming softly your swooning thirst  As your thighs confide my slewing stew Of whitewash rapidly crashing on your clit Forever shearing the feathered quill As the nib winds down to a nub  Be not shorn...Read On

11

Gray Clouds

Sometime dreams so long ago an opus of romance we shared, in haze of my narrowing days now all that's left is   melancholia.   It wasn't but a fortnight hence and sometimes past I gasped,  of times together we spent  before the calling of last tense. And the shadow of the falling hovering above my closing eyes, love cries on my balling sighs lost breath in disguise. Now times...Read On

6

Coming Of Dew

Thee of silence the winds whisper Without a symphony Or methadone ticking Kiss me now, kiss me do Only with a sigh Remember me true And coming of the dew Lay thee rest 'morrows dawn Gathering leaves down of nest Kiss me still kiss me blue Remember me with melancholia tears...Read On

6

Cling To You

lnfinity in an inkwell the words forever read, on letterhead of my thoughts and sensualities life bread. With petals of dew  and memories of you,  now here in my alone  no tears to shed. And like a climbing rose I cling to you still,  'neath my epitaph  in my big chill. As prose is to a rose  coming of ever 'morrow's,  the thorn my last breath  in shadows...Read On

4

A Woo Of A Hoo

It was as if the silence had gone deaf of muted winds causing me to raise the collar about my neck and my cloak but a mere cover giving me little warmth, these thirsty hours midnight showers. Like echoes from a distance timpini thundering  as the rains splashed about my ankles,  I felt the presence of peering eyes yet no shadows of mortals beings. The gas lamps dimmed and behind...Read On

5

The Shadows Woo

In moonlight falling upon your breasts like silk the shadows woo,  words of dark from my tureen  little words unspoken,  I whisper to you. As the moisture lays between your thighs  words of dark from my tureen,  stirring my erotic thrall  on flesh with my ladling dew. My lips touch your swooning tips  in moonlight falling upon your breasts as the tides of my cock rise,  words of...Read On

5

Close Quarters

For thee of running waters  my Susquehanna true and before the sprits lift my eulogy,  not in the least I saved my best. In still of quiet waiting last woe as I take my last gleam on your statuette, in fields of saw-grass. On banks my ever lasting sigh do or die before I expire words I have not spent, before the passing of my eyes. The gentleness of your flow as I lay inspired, ...Read On

8

Shade Of Pale

Darker than a shadow's bent and more silent a wisp of wind,  in my midnight gravity I kiss a greater shade of pale. Beneath the garden chateau, in maze of seeking harlots,  the scarlet of my beating throb give rise of coming sins. In abstract, I caress words that hover  with lips that make one shudder,  and with ink I descend my scribble, a muted sound of lust. On knolls of...Read On

5

What Thoughts

What thoughts my mind flow heeled to starboard in my gibberish nocturnal haze and heirlooms of dark thoughts, wrought of my long heckler. Gone are the ways of sensual past  now I thrive on old poet's bone,  given me swill of buttered grog and releasing me from this fog, of long winded quills. As she wraps her lips 'bout plums  arisen of my fickle cock, her tongue swashes about...Read On

5

Saucer's Quarters

Then I heard the chirping birds  in sink of saucer's quarters, a blue chill of cold waters and a sound I can't recall. Like a prima donna's aria in echo beneath moon bright and cello, smooth as silk and soft words evening breeze through her hair. The wind-sail of dusk's crown, harbor light green eyes of she in blue chill of cold waters, sipping Glenfiddich listening to birds....Read On

5

Gray Ghost

It was as if in slow animation as my cock coiled around the palm of my hand. Like a serpent it wound its way between my fingers. I could have sworn I heard a hiss and then fangs opening wide as I then caressed my gallant asp. Me thinking, gin was sour and playing tricks on me. Many called me eccentric with knots on my head, that had been read by old women of Saskatoon. They seeking only...Read On

5

Ferry Me Not

Ferry me not the eve of end and cast out the oarsman,  on the river Styx. As the head winds crest defining my new horizons  and your green eyes of sensual flesh, stirring my slosh for your little man in the boat. For in dark I find my compose of taints and ghostly sins while swilling sour mash, in search of orgasms  needing my stiffen seed. Ferry me not the eve of end and cast...Read On

5

Act Two-Snatch Grass

Then the shoe, midnight shrew  drops the swill that I drink  on the brink of my sanity,  the edge of my pantomime slink. In silence, sometimes I scribble  until the dawn shows its thorns of fire and rings as morning birds sing,  psalms of dark caroling. Masturbating until the dawn  of sins as my cock-quill spins upon the hollow of your cunt  rising above your snatch grass.   Then...Read On

5

Kindling Sap Spew

Kiss me still beneath shadow of the moon as your soft whispers sigh sensuality swoon  and my wonder-lust fickle burn with desire,  raising the amps of my carnal fires. Let me taste your somber serenity  as my drool anoints your cunt and thrill me until lasting infinity,  beneath midnight lace of twinkling afar. Givens of my kindling sap spew  in spaces needing hot wet slew  as...Read On

6

Short- Shot

Beginning with my two fingers of gin  and my short-shot jiggers of sin,  in praise of alcohol and shadows call. Harlots harking and floozies squawking  of flirtations with a gilded maiden,  as I in my step-ins feel my penis surge. Of laughter in quest of pussy-tail and good cheer, one for the road and a draft beer and uplifting urge of my trouser bird. As shadow of my...Read On

7

Touching Leaves

The winds bring to me, whispering kisses and soft touching leaves of sensual love breeze romantic carousel  and wisp of floating stars in your hair, scent of you being there. Like a choir of trees the sycamores sing as your lips lay bliss on my fingers bring,  stirrings in the midnight hollow  where boughs confess my happiness. The winds bring to me,  my undying words and prose, ...Read On

7

Kiss-a-me

Bring softly to me into the night carry me awhile to the edge  where the cornflowers grow, miracles from dew and sun bright and we over the moon in love. Walk gently into my soul and stow away the key to my heart, kiss-a-me free loneliness never part wishing you wishes and wishes you the sea of tranquility. As the tides bind and potpourri snows halos, walk gently into my soul  and...Read On

7

Grasshopper Shoes

What poets scribe of beauty and serenity my shadow moonlights in prose, of dead silence and hungering lips and phantoms rehearsing. In loveliness I see peaches in trees, blue bonnets on bumble bees and grasshoppers wearing shoes, as I lust for your honey-comb box. On whirlwinds calliope  as our love reflects on life's written pages,  the path to happiness chimes carousel...Read On

8

Aroused

I don't often become aroused at what I can't see Except when it's beauty of the forest and fallen leaves As the breeze whispers halos about my neck The boughs dance on the honeycomb trees And kiss my memories of wildflowers and you As your soft breath lands on my soul And the buzzing of the bees loom With keynotes of love songs past...Read On

9

Half-Past Six

Gone are the knots that made my socks with loose threads, laying on my bed and gone are the posters that hung on my wall, of past rockers, names I can't recall.   Where have the place-mats gone, the ones with stains and state names, with graham cracker crumbs and noonday hums? Gone are the wind-up clocks with hands that glow in the dark, and wading pools in the park with chlorine? ...Read On

5

Dark Babylon

In allure with my dark Babylon  on banks of the parting Euphrates, dunes of time have molded me many years of syllabus I am told. As scrolls of the incubus charm  and erotically unfold the dawn of me, of six gold chariots of wine and myrrh and your soft thighs welcome wide.  With moans of sands at last  my tongue unwinds upon your chest,  and my given asp breathes in your scent...Read On

5

Pendulum-Do

Just a mere mortal of a poet in fancy pants  and but a shadow in the winds of my tailcoat, as the candle wax runs down sealing my verse. And my watch fob bobs at quarter-nine giving light to my devilish eyes shine, tiptoeing in high button shoes. What jingles my testicles, scratches my navel as I take hunger on your ravishing epitome and the moths flutter around taper lit. While...Read On

5

Elvis Tattoo

Gosh! I'm sloshed in Shiloh again somewhere between an apostrophe  and the punctuation line, as my tongue wangles upon your tits  and my pickle tickles your slit. It wasn't in the moonlight that your twat was my bread and butter,  it was on the stage where you stripped doing the hoochie coochie,  making my cock sputter. And now that you're old with false teeth, with tassels on...Read On

6

Windmills

In my memories I reached back into the archives of my knapsack, as if I had lived the essence of you  and the rising tides... eventfully they do. All the while with smiles you cast upon amber meadows down below, with gentle kisses come my way as clover dance and rosewood sway,  and the sea-bells ring. As mist of the waves blow caroling of thee I write of our golden rings,  ...Read On

9

Moonbeam Poet

As for as winds blow and whispers bring new sings and rhymes of spring,  the bees that be, buzz honeycomb trees as nectar drips sweet love,  I will be a moonbeam poet  and you my evening primrose. My words yearn for you  as my pen wiggles on grinning paper and soothing wine of my treats, sipping your nectar.  With blossoming red lips and soft fingertips swaying in midnight shadows,...Read On

8

The Kite

Whatever the ties of strings that wind  the threads of life gently in the breeze twining love songs and caroling, whatever the ties will sing most poetic rhymes of spring. And I as the poet with the pen bring my torch from dawn of charcoal with my lips of moisturizing dew, the words of everlasting true shining my shadow on you. As the sounds of time pass by  and the ball of twine...Read On

5

Pineapple-Moon

Words alone of my breath fail to express the ways I adore you and just the who you were,  as I compose final chapters of our seasons and the inkwell runs dry. Until the blowing winds carry me to infinity and the last of the stirring leaves fly,  on my drying parchment I will scribe as my tearing eyes cry. It wasn't but an autumn ago wild geese flew over and beyond our livings...Read On

8

Fill Me Full

Oh! the throes of sins fill me full grasping my cock by the hilt of pit-bull,  and the dry gin satiating my aroused soul. And lust playing pleasures with my nightly sojourns  of fleshpots and mirrored fantasies of my mind's eye,  as they swish and swash about my male tickle. So I lay scribbles of my escapades of harlots and maidens in chapter promenades, as in lair they bare...Read On

4

With Lampblack

It seems to me in dreams I see on distant horizons my Fata Morgana, and with lampblack and tales of the sea I scribe on parchment's scroll. Of beautiful be you bring to me with green eyes and starry skies,  emotional tides of sensuality and soft breeze of sea tomorrows. The whispers of promises we spent and where there are shores on forty winks, we kissed in last summer's swoon  ...Read On

4

Upon My Sleep

The midnight hour as I rest upon my sleep and you in cuddle of my embracing arms, soft breath of the swooning willows bough...  apple dumplings taste good even in dreams. As streams of kisses lay on my chest and your hands gently bask my stones, on fields of quilt my limbs sway... apple dumplings taste good even in dreams....Read On

7

Are

In due-course of my poetic ramblings  I wish to be a better scriber among poets,  calling on sensuality and endearing phrases and the twinkling of who your eyes are. Writing of many sings in words and rhymes  there is romance that keeps me entranced, like a libretto whispering silently in my ear  prosing the few I hold dear and in truth are. As moonlight in timpani of my...Read On

7

Sweet Briar-Apple Rose

It was but a tomorrow's song I sang  of whiskey hours and midnight orange and the scent of sweet briar-apple rose, on yesterday's laurels the silence blows. And for the betterment of smiles kissed your love coming my way beneath the Cheshire moon, as garnish of spring brought me sings. Swishes of whispers from your breath and your fingers walked about my nape as the bough of the...Read On

7

Darken-Shine

In all the forbidden places of my dreams, I scribe with my erotic cuisine  nourishing my appetite and spreading my darken-shine  on sweet tokens of your flesh,  as the crashing tides echo  against my mortal soul. The kisses, the breath,  the sigh. Seductions behold in my eyes as my loins swelter with lust, and your suckling breasts I confess filling me with sweet digest beneath...Read On

6

Swigglewicks

This could not have been written without Saucymh's patience.

Little be known of the circle-jerks and daisy chains in Shiloh, and with these I get my ague. Out of modesty I am but a mere mortal of prose, penning concoctions and on occasions, a novel. A book monger and savant of a small gathering spool, the thread binding us as one. We bear no images or give prayer in our gatherings. We have our own separatism in our daily chores. Simply put, we...Read On

4

Here And Now

Usually in song of idle-while thoughts soft tones dancing of aspirations and amore As gift of winds watch over me in tunes and with kisses you sigh I love you Feeling the breath of silent breeze send  swing low the boughs of willows you bring And with that I will take my adieu  near the well waiting for you With swishes of soft tones dancing  in arabesque on life's carousel On...Read On

6

Olden Rhymes

Olden rhymes and fortnights ago when we shed our inhibitions so, in meadows of twill and dandelions blow. As we made love in moonlight of it all the shrill of the whippoorwills thralled, and the stars gave fall of wooded ball. As we caressed beneath the wind chimes,  like shadows in forest of pines and I ask would you be mine? If we joined in hand and wed, in life share bread and...Read On

5

Bred To Me

The erotic culture bred to me by roads to darkness and sensuality, as in time of birth there are no lights on in the womb and now I abide my creed no flavoring in my queue or dichotomy in my quest.  And my scribbles scribe of meandering fingers upon the flesh  as clouds of sable gather before the rising of my horn, oh! how I can taste the cummin' after's of pearl oysters  between...Read On

7

Ferry We

Ferry we to ends of times and into eternity sail on lines of rhymes most evidently  as falls of a rainbow flow over our craft  with scent of orange pekoe tea  and the oarsman of the skiff needing only one lantern light.  Like medallions in your eyes of green with sparking stars my ever seen  the winds sing of caroling brings  sunsets in your tiara  my lasting endearment forever true ...Read On

7

When The Teardrops Call

When the teardrops call of my passing remember me well of stories I told and even dark communions, what of midnight mass! and my Irish whiskey.  I need not absolution when writing of taints in the hollow or snapping twats and wayfaring jocks with hot rocks,  all I need is several jiggers of sin.  And when the sinful bells toll of last gasp as I ride my last tail hanging on to tits ...Read On

8

Widow's Dew

Until the widow's dew and I lay me down to rest  as shadows cross over my pen, we will be like garden peas  from seed to pod in our infinity together in life's garden of it all with undying ink. And through autumn of our years with rains and snowfalls  beneath the umbrella of love I will kiss your loveliness,  as the dusk closes my eyes  until the widow's dew, and I lay me down...Read On

8

A Lovely Thing

It wasn't but a lovely thing on porch swing some time ago, when I first held your hand when we were teens and the fireflies wink. Then we went steady and you wore my class ring,  many springs ago at the prom  listening to Johnny Cash. It wasn't but a lovely thing, then you took my name and with champagne we danced, on porch we kissed. And then in winter's snow  you left me...Read On

6

My La-La

Like an eccentric wound up clock  with broken mainspring  as I indulge in sins and sipping dry gin,  in truth I pen realities' sins  of my cantankerous ways... that's the way my la-la blows. It wasn't but fleeting lick she sucked Nick's big dick  and now upon my mind she lays sublime, on the spine of new chapter six  with my penis in her archives... that's the way my la-la blows. ...Read On

5

Calliope Tree

Like a carousel turning counter clockwise on an axis of fond memories,  the effervescence of you  beneath wind chimes that sing and calliope tree. In silence your kisses blow enchanting my sins, like sherry stirring my emotions  of soft breath from a decanter and scent of yesterday's wine. Now in caress of carousel rhymes  and sing-a-long times of sugaring kisses, we slide upon...Read On

8

Places Near

As Chopin is to nocturnes your melodies are to me,  with ringing chandeliers and whisperings in my ear of candles and lark  and far off places near. Under spell of romantic interludes  and angels gliding in mid air, wearing tiaras of love and ambrosia kisses.  you my Hosanna beneath moonlight  as Chopin tickles the keys....Read On

4

Tick-Tock

Hearing tick of tocks on winter's snow like a blanket of silk the sins blow,  as my whispering pen scribes  green eyes and rising tides of my thirst. More ticks of tock my words sow on thin ice of my darkening scrolls,  reaching out with a kiss I behold  words of spiritual thine. Laying my tongue upon swooned flesh as the scythe shears the winds,  on the toll of my farewell jesters...Read On

6

Other Side Of Good-Night

It is not my alone that sings melancholia  on the other side of good-night in the parley on my own get-togethers, for in words I verse silently discerning  of my angel lost in nirvana.   On wings of dust and puffed candles  they alit and kiss me in darkening grotto,  as my obelisk quills my sins  the yens of thirsting quests. Oh! what praise I shrill composing ambiguous  betwixt the...Read On

6

Was'ents Aware

In my memories I reached back into the archives of my dreams, as if I had lived the essence of you  and the rising tides... eventfully they do. All the while with smiles you cast upon the meadows down below, in tall shadows of our evermore with gentle kisses coming my sway, as clover dance and blow. And I was'ents aware of butterfly sails on wings of colors they do tell and...Read On

7

On Wind Songs

On wind songs I pray love so true as the leaves fly and skitter,  in meadows of the fall  and winter near after. On wind songs sigh of green eyes  and the fires of December we touch nuzzles,  sweeping kisses on our flesh. On wind songs of absolutions my glorious winged shadow,  hallowed be your words of our sacred vows. On wind songs carousel  and the calliope sings, as our...Read On

5

Fools Mortals Be

What fools mortals be when dreaming fantasies and copulating as if play things on strings,  perpetually in own animation  as life's sensuality has passed them by. What fallacies their lives bring sings  when in thoughts they lie beneath the truth,  as I scribe of soft thighs and green eyes  on pages of dark lore. What silhouettes fall on the wall  half shadows before the calls, ...Read On

3

On The Mantle

It wasn't but a breath as far as dandelions puff beneath the moon of the equinox, yesterday's kiss and blessings we wed  as we dance in happenstance. And on the mantel of our vows gazing into the midnight hours,  of coming tomorrows embracing our faith. Would you rhyme with me a little melody of quite hours and wild flowers scent on nature's quilt of white linen,  in meadows of...Read On

7

Wings Of Wind

On wings of winds the vulva flutters, the eyes of autumn blow gently  and the deuce of our words flow of our matters akin. Unambiguously sharing our sins, the gone of our shedding past as the teakettle simmers September songs and the whoosh of the silence be. On wings of winds the vulva flutters and the sapling from my deep thick  gives praise my nurturing lips, upon your breasts. ...Read On

6

Faraway Falls

I hear the fall of faraway falls, the rushing of rapids and my pulsating soul shhh-ing me.  Oh! the beauty of it all like life's salt shaker,  raining down seasons of year... then its Autumn. What love we snare  from fables and lore and I in dreams,  of the falling of the falls. I see snow on God's green turf life a quilt of warmth,  the meadow lay dormant  as the frost gives in....Read On

10

My Shenandoah

My emotions run deep when in my obscurity beyond the shadows of the wall,  calling of the ague my thoughts of sensuality. Like tumbling waters over stones And the wilding of my offerings,  feverish kisses I scribe, hungering for you. It wasn't but a touch ago in meadows of flowers I held you so  And caressing your skin, I got the ague. Now the rapids of life wash over me  and...Read On

6

The Om

The om of my all-knowing see even in writing of sensuality, casting shadows on my epitome, my yen taking wind of many sins. And I in dark of my all alone and in quest the everlasting la,  as the whispers in sing bringing silence to my ears. From whence I have sung with revelers of my glee, lost in my Apollo the om of my all-knowing see. With breath of my whew  and séance with...Read On

5

Six Damn Inches

In the winds, wings of the mill carol  As my mind grinds out lust With the wash of ink-broth  And the shrill of my brunt. Sloshing about with naughty lines Six damn inches from her knickers As she strolls the shimming temper, Raising the hackles on my nape. Oh promise me! deep knee bends, When her lips grasp my jerking And my testicles shake the withers. Her cunt becoming lunch, Six...Read On

6

My Aggregate

In words of id I expressed with a fleeting of my pen at the calling of my wilding soul as tears from my eyes fled Oh! how you grasped my stickling stick long time past ago  in the unforgotten of my mortality some where near my Shiloh It wasn't but a moment's gasp and the howling wails blew as my simmering slew brew the sighing of the winds The snood of my fillet gave tingle the...Read On

6

Wilding Weeds

It wasn't but a time ago perhaps less than then  in meadows of wilding weeds and fragrant scent That I held you well in my songs  and now the lyrics have gone  the way of your departing As the thrills in the dell spent  wishing you swell in my thoughts of love lost in fragrant flowers   It wasn't but a time ago perhaps less than then I felt your sweet breath of kisses...Read On

8

Patois

Preaching abstinence of nay's my robust for lust and jongleur prose in my itinerant ways, with a penchant for particulars of grandiose curse in all that is patois giving laugh at my perverse. Not stifling my yen, those taint knockers of pen wishing to be on the top side of my thirst, as I sidestep oracles swarming of the fickle in covenant her bung giving rise of fuck.  With a cackling...Read On

4

Yoo-hooing

If only peekaboo's could know the daunting's of the days what mortal souls you and I and crying in the snow If only the everin' could hear  blessings you give to me beneath the sins in token  and faraway dreams If only peekaboo's could know  the wisp of your whispers  looking into your coppering eyes  they would sympathize I the bard and the yard bird of prose building a nest ...Read On

5

Set 'Em Neat

There is no antidote for sins so set 'em up neat  at the Dragon's Spittoon and Air Devils Inn Awaiting the lights on the barroom floor  debauchery me do my nine o'clock whore As she turns on the brass pole of ten with tits in flight and beneath the spins Three fingers of gin and a pocket full of grin with money ticking and pantomime licking While caterwauling, snowballing in mid air...Read On

4

1967 Vulva

Sometimes things happen. Sometimes people do things out of character, then sometimes...things are what they seem. The origins of sins in dreams usually originate in my sleep and shadows of my dark beseeching. Sometimes enhanced by the screaming of sluts hungering for the appendage between my thighs. Then sometimes things happen, as I will explain. "Optical illusions!' I don't think so. There...Read On

5

Oopsy-Daisy

In oopsy-daisy and good cheer And raising my beer From the Old Dragon's Inn Giving toast to minuets And Johann Bach While fiddling the fiddle And stirring beef stock Tomorrow we wed Reciting Longfellow And dining on corn bread In meadows of forget-me-nots Stewing in brine of happiness In oopsy-daisy and good cheer...Read On

5

Midnight Hoo

My tongue steeps in her vagina brew  and the bonking of the woo in tales of screw Below the hemlocks and midnight hoo masking the moon's snickering grin In quest of my hungering nourishment and sipping three knuckles of distilled gin As shrouds of lust raise my tall timber in corners of my mind and snow of December Her eyes cast sin and my harrowing descends  'neath tapers of lit...Read On

5

Fallen Leaves

The winds of my mind blow silently with the quiver of my quill's ink spinning sins of my turning mill Poetically kissing pages of scent in meadows of wildflower garlands  walking softly on gifted petals In open arms caress on fallen dew like harps caroling whispers  and words of prose like fallen leaves In dreams it seems we pass through portals and open gates on fields of...Read On

4

Night Sheens

Gently the boughs open arms with night sheens of sin As we lay down in silent whispers  'neath the crowning moon's dew And sweet confessions the fireflies glow starry skies and green eyes swoon Caressing in slumber as we kiss  gently the boughs open arms And dryads dance in shadows  of romantic circumstance...Read On

6

Thwacking patter-pat

The wind chimes of my mind and your kisses blow memories of past night and swells ago In silence goes echoes of my thwacking patter-pat the pulsing of my maleness and libido show Like grapes of the vineyard and sweet your nectar sensual emotions and your lips of morning dew Walking softly upon this poet's aspirations  its in prose I pen of my famished lust glow Tales of winter's sins...Read On

7

That I Would

If I could chorus the swoon our isles of paradise in croon like an ode to a distant tale  that I would compose The midnight in songs of soft psalms  and your green eyes that I would if I could And even of sunrise gentle the emotions flow  and the currents of my pen  in my silent whispers Beneath the palms  and trade winds blow like surfing sand our isles of paradise in tune...Read On

7

Three Fingers

My cock was cast in brass And fifth dimension Without an extension  Three fingers  And ninety degrees  From my ass My balls were hung Strung and blue Tight as a whore's purse With the croup As she wiggled her fingers In my ass Now my cock of six Is stretched like a rubber band Milking my prostrate  Because of the gravity  And ninety degrees  From my ass...Read On

6

Moments Awhile

In moments and wiles ago and winter still of snow on February's morn  and blissful kisses Feeing your touch on my breath  like a hint of rose petals scent of shadows in my caress and endearments of love Soft sighs I hear within my ear deep passion of rising my spear as if fine tuning the ivories  your fingers stroke In moments and wiles ago  and winter still of snow petals awake...Read On

6

Wishful Sins

Sigh silently my wishful sins Gall of the rancor on finger tips And cock throbbing of lustful yearns Slowly slewing my penis brew Poetically composing  The howling winds churn Of teakettles and wafting scents Gone are the staves my cask of gin As I etch gently my lips upon your skin  Given rise to arousal 'neath quivering smock Sigh silently my wishful sins...Read On

5

Shoo Away

Shoo away, shoo away scents of time haunting now is not the daunting of my revelry Nipples like acorns upon her breasts and tolling of the swooning hour the succulent sweet of mead as my cock spew seed In silence words spoke as fingers caress gilded plume sensual prose pleasuring at humble abode Shoo away, shoo away scents of time haunting and breath of whispering gale behind my...Read On

4

Wooded Dell

Silence of echoes screaming  a little Gothic in my gruel and words of stones spoken recanting distant chanting   Upon the writing shores of my sensual chores  the ink in standing well  of copse and wooded dell As sands of seas and tides through looking glass rise a token of lore in black  and dark breath on my neck Sweet rum my tongue strums upon your swollen pea  giving...Read On

4

Wails Of Woo

First the winds blow and the sins sow Seeds of lust silently whispering echoes On crest of dawn bells toll As wails woo and fingers troll The softness of diva's flesh and dew of yew Kisses on breasts the swooning breath The plains between her chest And majestic peak tips Down into the valley of thighs My penis rising to the coming sun Of ejaculations and yearning tongue And...Read On

6

Numerals Of Sin

Lost numerals of sins I have penned between sessions of despair  on nights of feverish lust Feeling fingers upon my flesh ever rising the hard flue pipe  as scent of hours be fucked On toll of choir and libido quick  as lips curl and tongue spun of my yearning gift of erotic prose Your swaying tits giving me wits and cantering psalms as shadows on the walls steep my brew ...Read On

4

Woolgathering

It wasn't the buzz of bees or whispers of trees in the daydreams or tealeaves I read  or pollen of Queen's Anne's Lace It was the silence that took my breath away  as I felt your hands cross over soft clover and blow sweet prose upon my chest Gentle kisses upon my flesh as I sighed scribing poetically my fessing words the breeze of needs lusting my appetite As your eyes of ice gaze...Read On

5

Eloquently You Sing

More sensual words I could not express  Of love and life most eloquently you sing Three fingers arabesque Caressing the Grand Harp Like swans in ponds on fallen mist Silence the wood winds blow Kisses of lips lay upon my chest Midnight arms of charms 'bout me In symphonic pools of sensuality Visions of pearls ring down spring Sonatas of chosen smiles on the dew Of love and life...Read On

7

Yesterday's Mourn

I suppose it could be called a love story what I am about to convey it was but a moment in dreams  perhaps a thought I rest my soul after my lovely departed  in sleep I whispered  of meadows and breezing leaves as carolers sang In sighs I yearned for her caress  my loneness in tatters  crying eyes of tears feeling her last pulse As soft breath lay upon my lips like a...Read On

18

Kisses On Dew

In hues of spiritual scent sharing our dreams In meadows of weeds and honeysuckle vines Laying we down under skies of halo lights Sweet confessions we fess Valentine's night As time has spent last hours of dusk Caresses are made in midnight shade Of the orange rind-moon and carnal desires Beneath the oak on sheets of watercress  Courting the hours and lighting our fires Like sipping...Read On

5

Half-Pint Chuckle

Timber of the ember lay like ash As frost of insomnia freeze my darkness Up to my writing stick feather of the fowl Tobacco in the bowl of my pipe chilling  Hearken of spirits comfort my bones Like a succubus sucking my breath  Nimble fingers stroking my member Crinkle of her pucker seducing me Casting shadows on my bleariness  An omen near my penis quake Swooshing out matter...Read On

5

...with scent

In words and in tomes There are feelings expressed  Love and sensuality Pressed flowers with scent Romance in Budapest On the river Danube And lost letters written In my dreams As you caress my pen Of tears falling my cry Between the covers Of my writ Loneness is but An ugly way to sigh...Read On

6

Rushing Blue Waters

Over sandstones of time and rushing blue waters the rosette of falling leaves willing away hours poetry like mountain streams flow how quiet the serenity of noon autumn Sweet maple sap drips like pastry of quiche as you kiss away dandelion seeds with gentle breath and I with quill and brush painting prose of smiles and a lovely wench in your pose Fingers in slow motion sighing...Read On

5

Passions Compliment

In my oblivion nestled beneath sanctity The quarters of my composing waters And ink of the Dahlia my compose Beautiful enchantment wooing my prose Like petals caressing my finger tips And arabesque on my hungering lips Silently she smiles in devilment Arousal twines deep passions compliment As the flowers bloom on coming of Spring Twisted stems we sing in our bed ...Read On

5

Lovely Finch

The Lady Gouldian is but a lovely finch on gilded pages I scribe loneness as silence of memories rings tears past like whispering soft breezes blow your kisses caress my crying heart It wasn't but an Autumn ago  as if weeks my yesterdays sew when sighs of leaves slid  upon meadows of merriment  and golden bands we wed Now toll of quiet my melancholia rest  upon the sunken soul...Read On

5

Eves Of Doom

Departed are the hours I can wile away the pale moon Now but wrinkle chin the coming eves of doom And tea leaves have all but been strained The wafting of my predicament In shadows my wasted old bones laying midnight winds  My musing crone gives me bless and kisses of dried blooms The frozen pond be thin the chill has left my quill Leading me to my forgotten prose other side window...Read On

5

Silence Quite

It wasn't but a fleeting still A moment of silence quite I felt the kiss on my cheek As if a brushing breath And rushing of my pulse Arousal I embraced Sensual creations in mime Of shadows and bliss Weeks and years have fallen  Memories remain the same Gone are my summers Yet Spring is your name...Read On

6

Turning With Time

I met her on a carousel slowly it was turning with tune gaily of a past September  we became accustomed to each other's smiles Soft breaths and kisses we shared over teas and chocolate truffles many autumns past the granted of her love I met her on a carousel in the meadows of my dreams  and opened eyes I stood, 'neath  the forest woods green Soft breaths and kisses we shared and...Read On

4

Quest Darkly

Caw of my words ring lust of bard composing  the quilt of dusk spreads night at my window and with a knock-back of swill I cuss of curse The gift of the gall in seduction she verse  my musings with my pen I scribble  as her talcum lay about my chest In melancholia the drifting surf her lips about my anatomy  giving challenge to her chalice Curation' of patterns she defines my manliness ...Read On

9

Under The Midnight Rainbow

In my goon'ish eccentrics I am not without empathy For I show sensuality In sweetness of the ink falling On parchment of scent Kissed by the pen And tears from a angel The sparrow at my window And so be it I praise Caroling of my prose Not always the scythe With smiles I descend Expressions of romance And tears from an angel Under wink-o'-the-moon And...Read On

6

Clip-Clop

Without Trinket it wouldn't have clip-clopped

In my slumbering sleep Awaiting the night coach In manse macabre Beneath the crescent moon  With its pale grin And 'fore the lumbering dark In my dreams I seek Reflection of my dark deep And eternal sins Kisses for tomorrow Of alabaster flesh Grasping of my stiffen The ten of my thrills As silence descends  The ink of my tales As I whisper  Confessions of a vampire Before...Read On

8

Forty Winks

In dreams until the dew I sleep my forty winks Head resting on pillow down  The soft scent of you  And your loving whispers In dreams I compose Of wild wood clover  Caressing yours breasts  And kisses aphrodisiac Like Autumn's frost Your eyes glisten In dreams until the dew...Read On

11

Kiss Me Awhile

Kiss me awhile if you please And evermore the moments to pass Until Heaven's Gate In moments alone my mind roams Of past summers and sweet Merlot The love we share Blow softly the whispering words In pretend it's not a dream Caressing my soul As we dance on tomorrow's day Over beyond our sunset's The chariot arrives to take us home Kiss me awhile if you please...Read On

5

Paintings Fresco

In psalms of love and paintings fresco A beautiful image of you I wonder In months of memories Feeling your soft breath As gosling wings stutter Sweet persimmons and poetry whisper Windmill chimes and water color rhymes On canvas I swish where tall reeds climb Pads of green the ponds they sew Like placemat sets they sit silently On still waters of calm As loons...Read On

7

Fried Bacon

At times taking things for granted I don't show my emotions  By spreading my jokes Accepting your poached The finch on the window sill Pecking at the pane My glass full And you sifting flour The tea kettle hissing Its steam of morning's dew As you frying my bacon And me half asleep With words of expressions My thoughts of love are culinary  Like fluffy scrambled eggs  And...Read On

5

Gives Rise

In veneration of poets Walking silently on fallen leaves Beneath the pale moon snickering In fields of stones and old prose As drool of my cankering stick seeps Whispering of lost love as she sleeps Ever and day she weeps  Seeking my cold lips from her crypt As squeaking of the door gives rise  To her hungering flirtatious wiles  My tongue caressing her breasts ...Read On

7

Beds Of Oak

In the seasons of harrowing depart Many winters and pale moons I confess Hungering sweetness of your touch As cold lips trace my standing wick Six feet under with a stone door In our decent of clay 'Neath mulch we are parted Alone in twin beds of oak With brass handles And sealed with a kiss In the seasons of harrowing depart...Read On

4

Centipede Shoes

Lazy hours breezes blow Of soft winds whisper As hummingbirds hover In warmth of the sun  The rabbits tipping hats Half sleep in my daydreams Of tresses caressing my sleep Filling my life with merriment Visions of you in my wink At lay in wild-wood stems And petals of gems  Composing with my pen With your smile I wile  Beneath the oaken trees And fawns in fun The touch of...Read On

5

Ahead Of Her Hoarse

There I was in her catacombs, Vaginal oven I was a shoving, Mired in goo, Without a parking ticket Up to two testicles blue. I on my knees  Six inches from the navel And two tits to squeeze. She was in a G-string Diddling her friend Sue And I playing Bach Shoving in my cello bow Ahead of her hoarse. Six inches from the navel And needing a shovel, To dig my way out,...Read On

4

Ye Gads!

Ye gads! My merry maid, I plant my troth.  The kernels of corn are chattering. In fields of frost I froth  'Neath the old pine trees And combs of sin I roam. In midnight guise and sage, The purple skies I gaze, Seeking that which I implore, Beauty of the dawn And immortality of the flesh,  Laying cold fingers upon your chest. Ye gads! My lips are blue, In fields...Read On

5

Midnight Host

I stand beneath the humble tree, Branches reaching out to speak to me In peaceful silence my preamble, If I offend then its alright with me. In due course I voice my writ, Sensually swayed in dark I ramble Gambling that not all are fools, In belief I am branded ilk. Erotically nurtured by chosen chums And baptized of amoral haze, In forked tales of lust I blaze, Given...Read On

7

Shadows Know Best

Shadows know best  Into the wiggling womb  And the way to Gothic lore. Howling storms raining Down upon the moors,  Predestined to swoon In my midnight kiss. As icy fingers caress Your moaning flesh And tongue of my sins I spin eternal quest. Nectar of the clinging stone,  The jaws of the peach, My penis seeks.  Rising upon the pelvis's gasp, Into the...Read On

7

Can't Remember

I really can't remember the last time I choked. Was it two years ago, December?  I really can't remember the last time I choked my chicken. There it stood  proud and erect, six inches from nowhere and three feet from my knees. I really can't remember  the last time I strum. Was it my pickle or was it my hum? I really cant remember. I really can't remember the last time I stroked....Read On

5

Dead Petals

In solitude of the smatter box And swooshes of cold breath, Dead petals in my boutonnière  And a dried tear I rest. Like the leaves from my abode, Crinkling and scattering  And old bones rocking, Sprockets of my mind I descend. Beneath roar of howling wind Transcending to darken spaces,  On parchment I splay My new found lay. Coronation of my pen I spin, Jubilation of chilling...Read On

5

...and Dead Eyes

Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye... My passing shadow, In memory of coming sorrows Awakening spirits of long forgotten. The never ending of my despair, In silence of my crying echoes As I lay broken petals upon your bosom. That which anointed my eternal hereafter And baptismal quake of my new tomorrows.  Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye...  My passing shadow, Stand alone soliquey of gone love ...Read On

7

Washes

In my sequestered ambiguity of a mere mortal's shadow,  one step from edge of beyond... beyond dark into my infinity. Trailing washes with the pen  into catacombs of my abode, quashing out prose  with my pen of sin. The thimble of the phallus  and key of locked tomes, shed moon on old bones  and drippings of my wax. Genuflection of my wayfaring soul and sublime on my knees, ...Read On

7

My Bacon

Three hours past yesterday as shadows caress, in dark of the descending quill I confess, as Corners of my mind dictate my script, the fat drips from my bacon. Now a visitant of my own making, tales of omelets and oaken churned butter, distant shores I scribe between parting thighs, like echoes deep in faraway vagina's. All alone in my ghostly kitchen, bringing chills to my humbling...Read On

7

Lovely Drusilla

I am moved by the coming of the new day sun and howling winds accommodating my sinister wiles.  Sensual fanfares my wayfaring ways, raising my brow of long whiles ago past my passing breath And composing pen. As in spirit, I am now cast in pales of gray,  romancing my lovely Drusilla as she dances beneath the chandeliers and dust motes falling, to silent harps and violins. ...Read On

4

Bleating Sanity

Within the chambers of my mind and my bleating sanity,  squashing out words with my pen in the journal of my bookshop keep, as dust mites whisper and smile. Upon the cobwebs and candles lit  the haunt of my mental plum,  quilling the truth I prose in curses of the bottle's swill and solvent for my thrills. Masturbating on the choir of knell as hands of cuckoo stroke the clock,  half...Read On

7

Gawking Stick

In words I hark most dark sensuality,  Like a cover of frost chilling the harrows Borrowing on yesterday's dreams  And snickering as my manhood awakens, Due course of the hour my penis shaken. Bellicose manner my pen slides, Conspicuous of the black ink.  Portals my quest of sexualities And wet of her peach, Whispering in its partings, Thwarting not her lips.  A dandy in...Read On

7

Window Pane

In utterance my quill scribes, Deepening dark romance  And footsteps meandering On cold stones of my fame.  Chilling the ink within my well Of swallows without voices And yellowing of my tomes, Sensuality betaking my soul. Night the halos sighed  Bequeathing me your splendor, Whispering translation of your love, Smiles returning my way. Then you cast off to greener lays,...Read On

6

My Bell Not Rung

Within cornices my established plum,  Nestled about my bookshop nest,  In sanity my bell not rung,  Melancholia the whippoorwill tweet. In scintilla my scribing ink flows, Fantasia of the erotic choir fold With kisses of sweet peppermint, Clanging the hour of hanging moss Scoring my writ of sensuality, Courtier of composing quill, Sweeping desires in my lust, Tiara Askew, my...Read On

7

Bonnie Lee

Caressing words like cherubs sing of Bonnie Lee and the musing sea, bring to me sensuality in prose the beauty of life in my etchings. As mountain-falls cascade springs and mist of dew at my fingertips, visions of our long-ago  on tomorrows paradise shore, we will kiss forever more and embrace my Bonnie Lee....Read On

7

Salt Of My Spice

Dusk of the coming soon-moon And shadows of nearing dark, Give me comfort of beams In hollows of returning swallows Of my musty bookshop and reams. My soul untethered of bounds  And mind liberated from decisions, In verse my pen sails On paper of coming tomorrows And salt of my spice be.  Darkness I hark prose of tales Beneath candles of lit wick,  In reality I stand my...Read On

5

Fortunately Forrest

Just a shadow I spread of myself, In Fortunately Forrest I stance, 'Neath the sycamore bounty woods. Casting but a nuance of me Under shade of the tree, Wisp of stirring breeze Laying kisses upon my lips. In soft silence, whispering prose, Daydreams I suppose, In time, my mind flight's, Gifts of love I compose. 'Neath the sycamore bounty woods, In arabesque the...Read On

6

Edges Of Falls

Falling off edges into darkness of the abyss Of my crackling soul, That which make the pantomime dance, Comfort of the cum and dew on the yew.  Deep shadows of eeriness I prose the fall Of erotic aberrations and boos in the night,  Bringing frost and chills on my fingertips Tales of jubilation and fornications... Creations of my dreams. Watching my cock rise of the...Read On

7

Blew Spring

Its not complicated  If one writes life's pages With a gentle pen, As I did yesterday When the skies were blue. Birds sang caroling As pollen blew Spring, Dandelion wings flew Over creek beds slew, Then we were just two. Soft linen spread  On cloud like pillows, We became wed Like a carousel spinning On wheels it spun,  And now we are one....Read On

7

Time Is

Like time through the looking glass On images of shadows copulating, Time is but ejaculation In my sanctum untethered free. Free of mere mortals obscenities I prose words of erotic sins,  Creations from my dripping pen While giving absolutions to moist cunts And their accommodations of the prick. As my manhood salivates upon dark words My proclivities of the Gothic past, ...Read On

8

Spindle Grasp

There were times when I denied in presence of my following shadow,  thinking it an omen in pantomime only to discover my soul was my ego meandering in fantasy play of orientations going my way. In scripts I confide needs that pleased my sexuality of my erotic inclinations and proclivities of dark,  matters of deviant delights  in gray and paragraphs. Within the cunt, her spindle grasp ...Read On

7

Itty-Bits

In itty-bits and pieces of shadows I create erotica from caverns of my soul, Mindfully taking pathways and journeys In itty-bits steps with my bobbing throb. Poetically awakening senses of dreams That which excites my itching lust, Dark tales of spirits and tongues dancing On my jousting stick-stick. In itty-bits and pieces and fornications Of kindred thoughts and mutuality ...Read On

6

Lift Of The Swill

Lift of the swill bending my elbow When not paying homage to tomes And cobwebs at my bookshop quaint I paint in abstract words with a pen  Etching visions with broken down quill And ink from a hollowed out well On parchment of torn canvas I prose Lift of the swill bending my elbow Satisfaction of the rum whispering my ear Licking my lips poetically wiling away In sonnets the drink...Read On

4

Cool Embers

I must be more then a thought, am I not, in your soul journal and distant memories of the past? I must be more, why not believe  in such matters when you dream and sleep? I must be more, give me a glance,  as you go about your daily chore,  chanting songs that we danced? I must be more, then a mere shadow of last night when my spiritual being,  kissed you as you wept. I must be...Read On

7

Sings Of Spring

In my psalms and sings of Spring, wind chimes charm and melodies ring. Touch from your lips of sweet Chianti, the nectar of wine given rise to early dawn. Like the falling snow of pollen blow, dandelion wings and honeysuckle grow. In my psalms and sings of Spring, you my everything  bringing kisses of song....Read On

8

...and Shadows

Like words cascading  from the inkwell of blue in sight of my dreams, as a smooth sea lay and you in my mind's cheer. Swashing kisses  upon my stubble chin  of my composing austere, wafting wind songs and shadows in my tea. In silence of the poet  and echoes whispering near,  staccatos of sensuality of love in my night ear. As you dance arabesque of the harpsichord's minuet,  ...Read On

6

Quiet Little Sins

In sleepy rhyme things I speak in my rest, filed away in my mind's portfolio and hot cocoa rising.  The memories of last night's embrace of winter garden ice crystals,  like tiny marshmallows of falling snow. Lips brushing my cheek  and you blushing with a smile,  whispering quiet little sins and we making love till dawn. Your head laying upon my pulse sighing a soliloquy of...Read On

8

Paragon Of the Muse

In my swelling endowment which throbs sensual words and kisses on her eyes, the paragon of the muse in my scripts.  Ravishing my torso and my mind,  stimulus of my mast casting shadows on epitome of her flowering lips.  Coitus flaming my inspiring libido  and drop of the drip my enamored prick,  drawing down my penis in her slit. In verses praising the hilt of my joust, she riding...Read On

6

Table Setting Of Our Sun

In writing with my pen  of chapters in my quarters  on the edge of falling sleep,  prosing becomes easier posing with my softer side.  Loving you is my reasoning and beauty your flowing tale,  the arbor of your green eyes  and carmine of your lips, at table setting of our sun.  Like blue tides of the sea  the gift you have given me, seeing me for my falls and accepting...Read On

7

Shaking The Dust

A scribbler am I of prose and suppose erotic impetus in shades of bold, attached and sealed on reams I compose sensual tomes and words I chose, of tales and whatnots for those disposed.   Beneath shadows and tales of lust and night winds of musing gust in worthiness of the pen shaking the dust, laying kisses on the fleshly bust with my cock I thrust. Sensual mirth and euphoria jubilation...Read On

11
Recommended Read

Inclined

Now that I'm gone, would you be  so inclined to read, spending memories in dreams... would you be? My old love letters from me to you, turned yellow  from times ago  and midnight kisses of November's snow... would you do that for me? Will your tresses, in nocturnal moments of your spirituality lay on my chest and caress me in my rest... as I compose poetry? Would you be ...Read On

7
Recommended Read

Swans Danced

If only my words were true and swans danced  on mirrored glass, visions of scent wafting there. If honeysuckle grew in fields of smiles and dew of kisses all the while. If only beauty dared  to grace your wiles and crochet love, like harp strings, on halos. There would be  no need for dreams, or me to write sad songs  of swans and psalms. If only, I would open my eyes....Read On

11

...and Floe On The Yew

The raining of snow crystals, Blowing in your auburn hair, Like lights of a carousel blinking, Beneath winter swoon  And floe on the yew. November's love songs, And scent of the pine, Your beautiful eyes twinkling, As if musical winks in green  And beaucoup of kisses. Sinfully, enticing with a smile,  Like plum pudding in sensuality, Caressing my soul.  In sight of...Read On

11

Of Reds and Browns

In Autumn days, of red and browns,  My dear maiden of dreams, I reach, With dried corn stalks and gourds  And acorns on the ground. Of jack-o'-lanterns smiling,  Laying dormant until Spring  And nutmeg kisses you give to me, Sweet jasmine scent in your hair. Soft breezes whispering poetic love, As wind-songs blow in the air, Joyful jubilation and sensual wiles, Beneath the...Read On

8

Gossamer In Shadows

The gossamer, in shadows of my mysterious being, Like a winter's quilt, it warms hackles of my nape, As the dust settles on my writing stick  Eeriness, in my sleepless eyes wander, Poetically scratching at my itching temple, Palpitations in my throbbing noggin Like a poet, with a dreamer's dark cloud, Prosing eroticism, ebbing my mind,  Of wayfaring libidos going my way Little...Read On

5

Calling Of The Elm

In knell the echoing silence Distant calling of the elm Whisp' winds blew Hungering wakenings of my keep  Born of the coven Sired by the lingering moon In darkness I am the shadow Within sleepin' dreams Ivory of the tingling flesh Kissing away lingering fears I coo verses of The Sandman Arraying stiffness of my shaft  On quilt of morrow's dew Thee bed down your mortality ...Read On

8

...and minuets

In my lofty perch above... in silence I hear echoes of wind chime melodies and harpsichord minuets Spirits playing fingers across my writing chest of romantic interludes and sensual arabesque Connotations of sins I lay you down in my thoughts whispering of lusty thirsts atop the hour of my quill Soft kisses I confess weakness for fair maidens erotically inclined in my boudoir of...Read On

8

...as geese sing

The flowers have all but wilted  and the dew lay upon the grass in stillness I hear your whispering love  as geese sing morning's encore I look down on God's green earth from the eternal window up above in paradise and life's garden... poetically caressing you Shades of gray in your flowing hair  of many Autumn's and years spent together we silently went  to destination of...Read On

8

Look At Life

I look at life As if riding the tail on a kite More of the wind and distance of a thread Un-twining as if being carried away With seashells and echoes of the rising surf  On crest of high tides we sail our full moon With sensual sea salts of our endearing love As if riding the tail on a kite In jubilation of a ball of string...Read On

6

My Epitome

Environs and incantations of lust Circumference of my pages  Visions of circumstance Sensuality of the intimates Ink in the well, musk of my Merlot    My tales swell the compass of my dwell Matters of the phallus attending the cock And shadows on the hanging moss As if fountains of swaying breasts Nursing my epitome Chapters of copulations And fornications fires Bodies of kind entwined...Read On

7

October Mist

With wine and October mist Comes essence of grapes Corn silk in your hair  Wafting scent effervescence The aroma of love  Like a vine I cling to you  Sensual caresses  And morning dew kisses Early morn in fall meadows  Sparkles in your eyes Like Autumn leaves fluttering  And flower tiara in auburn hair My heart belongs to you With wine and October mist Simple things at best  ...Read On

7

On Occasions

On occasions... I hear the knock-knock Pecking at my door On occasions ... Tapping of the wind  On occasions a image of a whore A zephyr...  With a glass of absinthe  Death in the Afternoon with zest An escort with a fine ass Now what do I propose? Penning with words My ebony prose In truth... One never out wits the cunts Bringing with it the thrills And hardening of the bone Echoes...Read On

8

Lingering Scent

Lingering scent aphrodisiac  Like a fine brandy  In quiet of my solitude Of my aching heart Loneliness of the bellows  The bard mellows Seasons ago chapters of sins Wafting winds blew Across my writing prose Impressions you left upon my soul  Aromatic the musk of you Fluidity my mind composed Searching for sensuality  Palm of my hand the pen Craving your anatomy Musk of...Read On

5

Desires

In steady streams of kisses Our passion turns to hot rocks Like lava flowing down mountains Craving carnal desires And flesh in copulation Hisses from your lips As moans turn to sighs Beneath the stars of night We hold each other tight In steady streams of kisses Your hips begin to rise My cock throbs out verses Craving carnal desires...Read On

9

In Time It Flew

In time The bells rang Birds sang And in time... We fell in love The trees grew Pollen blew And in time... Time went by Like a carousel On wings It flew In time We aged gracefully  Grandkids swung In backyard swings And in time you past The trees cried Leaves died And in time... Time went by Like a harp it played  Shadow of you I caressed...Read On

6

Boiling Broth

In my portend soliloquy... Of speech I rant My boiling broth 'bout to explode As your tongue swathes Currents and tides About the girth of my flagging cock Warm saliva slathering My raising stalk Bathing my bollocks  In your oral font With smears from your grin Foreplay my fortune As your drumming clit thumps Thundering crescendo Jizz bubbling over ...Read On

8

Apropos

Woe be gone melancholia Casting sleepiness in my merlot Truth of my swill I confide 0f dreams on tomorrow's bye and bye  Shadow rainbows and love of life  Whimsical is the wildwood crier Chasing melodies 'neath boughs of trees As you lay yonder in silent sighs Woman of beauty My Lady Apropos  Muse of darkening scribbling scripts Enlightening me my composing sensuality Setting...Read On

6

Soft Brush

Like a soft brush touched by her lips The rising sun Of carmine sweetness and lust Going the way of dreams The Sandman sprinkle dust Swooning my aroused And I deep in sleep Nocturnal hours prone in flowers Alone at last with star showers Roaming fingers of passion Caressing my anatomy She kissed my shadow And I deep in sleep She swallowed my cum The rising sun...Read On

9

Swooning Noir

On edge of falling dusk  Last twinkle of sun Quill and rum 'Tween sleep and snore Spinning my yore Like a wheel it's turn Humming in yawn Coitus loom in swooning noir Dribbling sauce  The swill of my knob Spewing the dew  In her abstract's infinity The vaginal crevice Deeper then the well Grasping of my throb My seep spews Wink of the muse In continuation of writ Last stanza...Read On

10

Coloring Book

Fantasies... A to Z Like crayons on a coloring book As if pantomime in silent shadows Whispering pages Bringing faces back to life On currents of my mind And tides of tomorrows in my sleep Forever love of rainbows correlations And hint of hue Our love remains a fantasy Like crayons on a coloring book A to Z...Read On

6

Blue Carnations

In sails of winds and mast of yore Blue carnations falling like gentle rain Soft breezes on currents I caress Tides of sensuality drifting my way Like Aphrodite's kiss  You the pearl The world my oyster In sails of wind and mast of yore Echoes cast your shining beauty In distance the lighthouse candle glows Like seashells with emotions I hear silent whispers In sails of winds and...Read On

10

Tiny Woods

In heather of tiny woods Gift of nature Your beauty glows Honeysuckle shows In tranquil forest near And jasmine scent Silent whispers of bees Whispering honey flow From combs in trees Cascading smiles And wildflowers scent Like dryads in shadows Crescents of your green eyes Showing beacons happiness And love's caress Trickle down stream Cascading dreams In heather...Read On

10

Clinging To My Samba

Longing of what I was bequeath Writing reclamation of my quiddity Basting the bones of sensuality Clinging to my samba And coleus ichor  Rust on the ocher moon Swill of my quill Cleansing words of my oeuvre In my canter of her stunning Embracing my prose Hungering thighs basking Fruit of the lotus flowing Leading with my hark Virility of the petals Glowing in my dark  Silhouette...Read On

9

Black Tupelo Tree

In composing my vagabond tootle Ramblings of dark sojourns without toddle  Not blind in tuned to my mentality Of those that critique true sensuality  One must hear the caw of the darkness fall From the branch of the Black Tupelo tree Beneath the quilt of rolling thunder Dripping humidity of the hanging moss  In concoctions brewing swamp water stew Of erotic copulations my penis...Read On

7

Happenstance

In sorrows of the wind calls Upon my happenstance Last flicker of my impending I on bed feathers lay Oration of yesterday's shadow Inquisitor of my near gone Approaching my passing Come visiting my way In death my penis rises Like a pen scribing And croons spent As motes whisper goodbyes  Swilling my nocturnal giving's Ink of my lasting libido In sorrows...Read On

11

Dreams Awhile

Wayfaring winds upon my brow In wake of my dreams awhile And clouds of hue Distant kisses and smiles Echoes of your embracing heart As your presence comes over me  And clouds of hue Bearing gift of everlasting love Effervescence eternity In wake of my dreams awhile And clouds of hue I bare my write Crying in blue...Read On

6

Own Boo-Shoo

In my everydayness and demeanor Mongering tomes and whatnots One never suppose of my relishes  In mystique within my wrappings For reasoning sweeping darkness And sensuality beneath my pantomime  In romantic brine of my throbbin' wiggle My soul light shines on my astute Slogging about in my own boo-shoo In bedew of the dampening chill I scribe Kisses 'neath the moss and willows...Read On

11

Flowers in The Dell

Drawing memories from the well Lasting emotions of beings Dried petals in the album Whispers of passion kisses scent  Pictures of our love And flowers in the dell Now many autumns spent Dew has come and went Like a calendar flipping years And a spirit upon my shoulder In psalms my head bows Of melancholia blue Laying you down in meadows Beneath clover and mint Last...Read On

7

Road Map To Macon

Muscatel, grits and tummy aches And red checkered plastic tablecloths Your tits in my bowl of hominy Looking like rutabaga with varicose veins As if a road map to Macon and Warner Robbins Next to my chaw of tobacco Upsetting my glass of water  With my pet tadpole And crawdads crooning love songs Nipples belonging on corn squeezins' Not dangling in midair next to the spittoon Dixie...Read On

9

...of Silence

In my campanile of silence On dried petals and dead tones Choruses of echoes I raise a hard-on Bequeathing my quill To dust I return From cobwebs loomed Death cant's song Whistling my ebb tide Incantation of my wake My eternal sleep I masturbate Cum oozing the earth With words on my stone Worms and parasites dance In my campanile of silence Bury me near a...Read On

10

Turbulence Of Her Whirlwind

The wisp and the siren plays, In turbulence of her whirlwind, Under the lay of moon dew  And specter of my pen. Dipping into the well, Slinking in the ink, Sensual light of the echoes  Her aura and loveliness.  Reaping gales of the zephyr,  Swirling her pantomime  And shadow of her seduction, Umbra, her cinnamon eyes.  Kissing me with desire of fire, Glow of my soul heats embers,...Read On

8

Willacoochee Chicken

I, Cecile Dedolt, doff of many hats. You might recall that at one time a hosel hole driller of croquette mallards, often being reminded that it was croquet mallets. What do they know? A hosel is the socket or hole in the head of a mallard. Mallard sightings, of which can be seen in early spring on lawns with wicket widgets of nine. Moving to Willacoochee, Georgia after breaking the neck on...Read On

6

Sayonara Elysian Fields, Hello Hortense

this is 100% true, except that the hurdy-gurdy crank was actually an old automobile one

When we last spoke, if you remember...I talked about the Elysian Fields of Rome. A town situated in Northwest Georgia. I, Cecile Dedbolt, had just graduated from Ivy Tech Vocational School & Laundromat with a cum laude in hosel drilling. It was a toss up on who could cum loudest, me or my girlfriend Zelda. Mom had told me that the only way in life to get head, was to learn a trade and...Read On

8

Homily And Porridge

Bellows resting against the stone hearth Traveling last breath mortalities' path Meadow's Nest of my accommodation's  Dreary somber hearing untold silence Roguish be the eyes dusk of November In swirling dust and haunting aura Feather of the raven falling silently  Caw of the fowl screaming my quietus Homily can wait with my cooling porridge My chills rising of the glowing embers  ...Read On

8

Earth Stone of My Gone

On rollin' hills it was shallow It was deep, it was arcane Oblivious, nay life to create a landscape Nay easel stood with canvas Or brushes in turpentine It was aware, it thought Exhalin' without breathing Like Aeolian wind harps blowing timbre Of my gone It beget 'morrow's dawn And dusk's breeching's The last wink of light Ascension of the crescent Cold fog rising from the pond and hollows...Read On

10

Good Eve Dusk

Good eve dusk Crooning of the loon In bleariness of my lagoon As my mind wanders eeriness about 'Neath chamber lights midnight spite Warble of silence comforts me Tis eve of my intoxicating breath Rum awaits my mortality Bottled spirits anoint my darkness being Swooning in my shuffling amble  Lips upon your lusting nape Widow of the hemlock I kiss In reformation my renaissance...Read On

17
Recommended Read

...bit unfinshed

I wasn't dead or gone  Just a little bit unfinished As if day dreaming in limbo Watching the world go by I felt as if I was invading on someone's privacy Until I recognized it was I On the periphery of my psychiatry Yet I was aroused with the moon  In 1865 Night the raven caw on my gazebo Death knell of fallen arches As spirits of bell ringers toll Sodomy of my passing Ejaculating...Read On

7

Elysian Fields of Jawja

If it hadnt't been for Uncle Bebop, I wouldn't have what I have today... nothing

When one talks about The Elysian Fields And Cold Heart Whiskey I think about a little place in Dixie Salt pork and a place I call home In Nowthwest Jawja... Rome With one speed bump And seven mole hills Blossom, Lumpklin, Mrytle, Neely And Old Shorter  Jackson, and Mount Aventine  The town where Uncle Bebop played...  Diddled in Rome  And burned down his crapper Setting fire to...Read On

8

Of Kingdom I See

In prose of meadows sweet Butterflies in flight gliding  Pollen like snow blowing  Thee of my sleep I dream melodies Of posies in mane of thy hair Meadowlarks harping in songs From boughs of nest tweeting As I lay in sleep blinking  In realm of forever after's Of Kingdom I see in closed eyes In jubilation hearing my last breath Sins washing away like sand  ...Read On

10

Still Too Short

Between nostalgia and indigestion And suggestion of circumcision, They cut it off three times, And my pecker is still too short.  Now I need an extension  And a whoopee-doo stick,  Antacid for my belly, Blue pills for my limp dick.  Last night on the crapper, Mosquito soaring half past six,  I use the bug zapper  To jump start my little prick. Watching my favorite TV show, ...Read On

10

Indigenous

Indigenous to homo sapiens And a few earth while critters The anus is a cavern With little sharp teeth Of polyp-like stalactites Semi colon and rectum And a sphincter uptight. In wave of my finger I get the green light Tickling my prostate Milking my twig and berries And a few earth while critters ...Read On

10

Bootie Dootie

Lieu of granite 'neath the magnolia tree  Short stack of pancakes lay And old timer's belch hooch  In Dixie I crash-land an eon ago A stone's throw from praline stands  Somewhere near the genus digitalis In McCaysville, Georgia South of Pearly Gates Café Behind the chain-link fence And sign beware of hogs On Interstate 60 Hallelujah Amen pass the grits Fessing the Lawd and my wrinkle...Read On

8

Old Dusty

The cupola of ramshackle Abode and homespun spirits Arthritic knuckles and rum Wrinkle of my thumb Knob of my penis I prose with dark ink Hair of the tongue Erotica on dusk of night In reality the poet Of Ole Button's 'n' Bones As my cock rise On caw of the jackdaw And pious in my scribe Trappist in attire Like a hermit I survive Wiling away the hours ...Read On

8

Wayfaring Sand

In correlation of the scripted incense Aura sense past dusks spent Prosing scribble of sensuality And milky way glitter  Life's twinkles in your eyes Layman's tongue writing words  In vernaculars of love Autumn leaves fluttering in air Butterflies catching falling dew And carafe of kisses Beneath the yew Intertwined with ever afters Passions wine of beauty so fair Halos of wreathes...Read On

8

Laurel Loone

In dreams I see you dance On tails of swallows Upon yesterday's stars And tomorrow's sorrows Disappearing in shadows With twinkles in hair Alabaster fair  A halo's tiara  My Laurel Loone  In swoon I'll be there Long of the stems Grown are wild roses Sighing in the wind  Petals hum memories On your marble stone Trellises of the vine Kisses you planted  Caressing in gardens ...Read On

5

There Is Nothing To Be seen

Oscar Wilde said it best. “After the first glass of absinthe you see things as you wish they were. After the second you see them as they are not. Finally you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world. I mean disassociated. Take a top hat. You think you see it as it really is. But you don’t because you associate it with other things and ideas. If you...Read On

17
Recommended Read

Dew On Rocks

Wishing to speak with spirits Sleeping close to their stones Within the orchard of their rest This side of looming shadows Dew on rocks of dead bones Whispering psalms of songs And notes of their words Singing to me in prose Souls have risen to paradise  Wearing wreaths of immortality Sweet wine of thine lips  Tint of misting scent  Passions of sensual kisses And yesterday's caress...Read On

9

Parallel Dell

Silence echoes passing years The quiet hours of the day Beneath the yew we lay Six deep till midnight we rest In parallel dell On carpet of mint spray Aura of fragrance scent In meadow of planted stones  And twinkling psalms Of the sweet bye and bye Honeysuckle nectar taste  Wind chimes choir  Shadows embracing our love Whispering breezes sigh Dandelions seeds snow Like ripples...Read On

10

Forty Winks

In land of enchantment melodies Enchanted love our lullabies Forty winks of sleep goodbyes Gone my sunshine of days In rest you lay beneath clay Headstone marble I pray Ladder of trellis my rose twine Vine of years crying tears fled Dreams of rem blinking eyes Years of spring we wed Forty winks of sleep goodbyes...Read On

10

Breezes Still

Vibrations are like ripples on a pond You see them but can't feel  And breezes still Like shadows crossing silent meadows Life's little senses and watermelon rinds Wind chimes tingle of my pulse Beautiful trees and wildflowers scent Marigolds in your flowing hair Twine of the honeysuckle vine Caresses of the green clover  And seeds of love Growing in sensual gardens Kismet's...Read On

7

Stinging Of The Thorns

In soft sigh of cries  Beauty in your eyes Tapioca of my desires And freckles on your nose Like distant weeping Before tears begin to fall And I on faraway shore Of wines and gazebos And detours in the road Hello loneness Bye-bye Melancholia My pen writing dark Goth Of banisters and shadows  And you whispering in my ear Understanding the hour Cawing of the crow...Read On

10

Still Picker

One more shot in my glass Two steps my jiggering dance Three fingers till midnight And squeaks of my rum  Bobbling my staggering prose  Waggling my feathered quill Oblivious the curdling squall Within ink of the well swill Edge of my tottering nod  Blinking my red eyes Fata Morgana caressing My staggering knob  Grasping the endpin  My pickering swell pecker  She flicks...Read On

12

Blues Of Loon

Cry me weep melancholia Lone blues of loon Beneath orange moon With pen I spoon Pussy willows love Shallow waters lagoon  Darken clouds harken Sighs of bass howling In weariness I write Golden curls like shells Lay like stars in your hair  Sensual shadows my awake  Like distant visitant  Gentle rain I seek Comfort in dismay The rising of the mist Kiss of the siren's lips ...Read On

10

Lion's Tooth Soars

Where do dandelion seeds go when blown away? Long lost and forgotten across meadows  Long lost in tall grass Like spirits with souls and lost in direction When the lion's tooth soars  Sweet of the clover florets nestle in your hair Nectar on your lips my tongue taste My gleaming dear of passing years In shadows upon the new mowed lawn Long lost in tall grass  Sun rainbows of the dying...Read On

9

Egress

To loose my words I offend weak of noggins  For they not grasp chilling embers of my frost Harrow of my daunting pen scribes Dark eeriness at dusk of my bleary eyes  In their unknowing mirth swilling cheer They wrought my hackles like jackals on strings Breezes chill the sycamore leaves scatter in gusts Irrelevancy of their thoughts snickering my grin Winds of tempest and darken skies...Read On

8

'Gether

Soft winds ago blew across heather As we rest six feet forever 'Neath green earth and prose Tolling bells choir On wings of sighs butterflies soar Descending on honeysuckle trumpets Whispering psalms I cry Your undying love 'Gether we lay on epode's bed And clovers of 'morrows dawn To arise and glow 'ternity quest 'Neath green earth and prose...Read On

10

Bushel Basket

It was the end of the growing season Canning pickles was going slow Ma in the kitchens blanching ripe tomatoes  Wearing a yellow ribbon tied in a bow  Then it hit me, I was only reflecting Ma had passed on 'bout a year ago While capping pickles in a jar The bushel basket a few 'cumbers low   I recall I was in the yard whittling A new fishing pole and listening  To the electric radio...Read On

11
Audio version available

Four Currents Thee Blew

On four currents thee blew Without sense o' your weak Now you rest in your deep  On clover and scent  'Neath stone thee sleep Near Damson Plum tree  Loving thee my glow Rhymes of sweet glee  Thee 'low earth Me rising day sun Flowers in the meadows Weeping their sorrow's  Gone me maiden fair To the shores of 'ternity Baring me despair In my agony I weep  Valley o' orchards ...Read On

12

My Obsidian Quilt

Oh darkening skies my obsidian quilt  In my shack 'Neath shadows my pen scribes Hungering lust of my paragon Sensual pathways of my soul  Caressing passions breath  And kissing flesh of anatomies  Drippings of my switch stick I swag my erotic splatter  As thunder rocks my bleating prose  Commonality of my personality  Lays truth at my clattering quill Lapping at the paper with...Read On

9

Twig Snapped

Then there was me when the twig snapped As if fleeting rustle of passing tomorrows  In my spiritual cavernous abode The rafters of my hearkening pen  In my solitude shadows cast prosing scripts Sensual psalms of clover and fair maidens  When the last leaf falls And dipping moss Circular staircase of my poetic mind Like glowing dew on parchment writ Loveliness of my muse kiss  ...Read On

8

Sewing Basket

In rest of sleep I soft snore Last breath of my sinning mortality As you kiss away my transgressions  Tears cleanse my passing soul In years past of our togetherness I took for granted your apple pies And sewing basket on the floor Fifty-four dreams ago Remembrance of growing love We planted a kiss on an apple tree Now in my dying sighs The orchard blooms of your beauty ...Read On

9

Swatting At Doors

Where do spirits go during the hours, When one is doing daytime chores? Where do spirits hide their shadows When not dark And swatting at doors?  Spirits are like silent emotions, They weep, they sleep, Show sensuality And love for the common soul. Where do spirits confess sins, When they have passed to distant shores? Where do spirits find passion, When many...Read On

10

Weep Of Lost

In silence thee lay of the long sleep In company of misery comforting my wake Stones of glass shattering true love deep  Beneath the iris and nest of swallows Weep of lost passion for best tomorrows The passing of yesterdays sorrows And the rising soul of love fold  Tears of my eyes seeking out thee  Oh pity me not of my lusting staff  Ever denying me my cup of swill gin As my...Read On

9

Swaying In My Swoon

She knows the way to my sensual quarters Locked with emotions within my eeriness And dark scribing  Sachet of dead roses in my abode Sensuality defies scorn as I write my words Beneath the comfort of my chamber wicks She winds her sighing aura about my penis  The thorn of the humbling script Prosing upon the shadows of the nest Creator's cloak and wines to digest  Erotically tweaking...Read On

12

Fata

In book-worn shop, Ole Buttons 'n' Bones, Tomes forgotten by time haggard by dust, In consequence of the molting quill, Jousting with the phallus of my pen I scribe. Humble crumble of my wooden planks  And mites in my meager stipends, Erotic quests I confess with etch, Masturbating with ink of my swank. Sward of my mentality rules,  Insomnia basting sleepless nights,  In fornication...Read On

7

Dickens Of Darkness

The dickens of darkness at times uncoils, As if cloaked in sensuality I mine of lore. In benefaction I bequeath. In swash, I core bite of the tasting apple, Poetically prosing words that fancy me, Enamored by the feminine seethe.  Sheathe in lace and black patent, The mesmerizing swoon of her being, Receiving kisses from my fair maiden. Garnish of the salivating palate,  Zest...Read On

14

Being Is Deceiving

You gotta show your emotions Show your aspirations While stirrin' your potions  And making love  Dancin' in your rekindled pie You gotta stop your double dealings Discard your drunken swillins' While day dreaming and deceiving  In your daily misgivins' Bumbling in your affairs Being is deceiving When not even believing Your own lyin' words Which you scribe You gotta...Read On

13

The Prosing Sloth

Titled, The Caws of Soughs,  Jaak Dawes in person, I fame my name. The 'quistor of Haggs towne village. Powdered wig on noggin, I swat, Ascot of silk in my attire, Bold in dark, the prosing sloth. Grasping the quill, ink slew it's brine, From quiver of the well, galls of oak, Stains of my parchment writ.  Suitor in my poetic scroll, Barer of poetic brew, arbiter of soul,...Read On

12

Maiden's Sin

In scripting with my ambling pin, 'Neath trees in green orchard lay,  Wisp of whispers, speaking to me  And butterflies dancing, maiden's sin.  Setting of the 'oontime rum, My swill 'bout to overtake me, Halos in bright of my peeking, Playing seeing's on my flask.  Sensually awakening my dreaming be, Flirtatious she, tempting my sanity, On shadows of written afore pages, My...Read On

10

Scattered About

Still of silence wafting, Like stale skies potpourri,  Scent of yesterdays kisses  And death of my dahlia,  In a room without straw. Cracked panes, the windows, Soot on the past embers,  Frozen dust in the corners, Memories of our fires And kindling love. Years before aging bones, Dancing in twilight, our desires,  Now the harpsichord has dead keys  And wreath of acorns in...Read On

11

Essence Of Meditation

In quiet I compose silence and meditation Whispering senses of tranquility about me Coming incense of spirituality Sensually opening ways of my soul On waves of my thirsting surf rising I sigh the fruit of tantric psalms Hands caressing my virility Hence the aura of serenity I feel Like soft flesh of orange essence I thrill new awakening...Read On

15
Audio version available

Twelve Steps Below the Sun

In lieu of awards and applause, Beneath the spotlights And opera glasses of good taste, I prefer solitude when clouting, At Twelve Steps Below the Sun, Three fingers of the rum. My scripts of curbing at midnight, Streets of red lights and bordellos, Silence of enquiring whispers, Odd-lots my communal 'stablishment, Solicitously about my fanfare And gracefully down to the bare bones. ...Read On

11

Tapping's Of My Heart

In still, the shadows hint the stirring of trees,  Coming of the dusk, insuring hours of hark, As my pulse quickens in lusty fashion And I in my candor, reading Annabel Lee. Sloshing of the tides upon the rocks slop And I in nightshirt take big chill, Of the visitor in my day dreams, Caressing the passion of my be. In mist of clouds, my seeing eyes blear, As I adjust comfort on...Read On

8

Sowing My Bloats

Sowing my bloats, song-sung of melodies, In real time, thrashing about in my mind-valise,  Converging on directions, askew of my ample, Supposing with cast of my rum, New verses arising. Pleasing acquiescence, my soul about me, Wrappings of my sensuality, I aspire good write,  Betroth in prose-lock of my flirtatious proclivity's  And demeanor this night, Warmth of the fire inspires me. ...Read On

14

Winter Weeds

In the Autumn of the past year,  Laying down between laurels, You went home to whiter cotton, Leaving me in sorrows of tears And winter weeds in the rock garden. Like an angel you sang me in sleep, Songs of love we use to dance to, Whispering your sweet halos  And brushing back your red hair, With stones of blue, in your coronet.  Wiles of the devil played ruse on me, Taking you...Read On

15

Butterfly Milk

Of 'morrows happiness, Sushine tears aglow,  Beautiful webs of silk, Green clover and mint, Vanilla rain falling And marshmallow skies With candles. Sprinkling confection, Caressing me awake, Like hints of treats,  Candy in your hands,  Whispering in sweets And butterfly milk  With straws. Falling pollen of snow, Resting on your wee nose,  Loving you is easy When honeysuckle...Read On

10

Evoking My Winkle

A cause me not to repose this sunset, In iteration, I speak of Insomnia,  Wench of my indulgent speaking,  Afflatus of my meandering scroll. Shed light of peeking darkness, Sensuality she touches my animus, In kittenish correlation we compose, Titillation of the stimulus. Lyrical of praxis script murmur,  Cajoling ravenous lips searing,  Ribald in banter of rouse, Awed in accord...Read On

11

Sloe Gin Of Autumn

It wasn't but a moment ago in time, Of frost and dew...honeysuckle vines And the slow gin of Autumn.  Days it rains, mainly on the plains, In Savannah between songs of birds. The thrill is still there. Our first house and yellow balloons, Gravel path and tea garden, With a willow tree. Grandchildren swinging on an old tire, Lemonade treat in the heat And band aids for their boo-boos....Read On

18
Recommended Read

Rocking Chairs Of Blue

My grandfather to my gran.

Simply because I care, Of things I haven't forgotten. Leaves falling in autumn And honeysuckle dew. Freckles on your nose And rocking chairs of blue.  Simply because I care, Of things I haven't forgotten. Cards on Friday nights, Rand McNally Atlas, Pink bubble gum And your emerald green eyes. Simply because I care, Of things I haven't forgotten. Music on the radio, Little...Read On

10

Oaken Firkin

A hogshead of brimming swill, Cask of ale brewing still, Within bowels of oaken firkin.  I thirst.   Pewter of my tarnished chalice, In eeriness I drink myself to sleep, Of dreams I lay down to lust, The succubus of Dallionshorn. In moments of blink, I peek, Her breasts of teardrops I seek.  Quest of eyes, my sighs cry, Precum of the dew, I have for she. In creaks of my...Read On

11

Tiara Askew

A tear and a seed blow,  Planting and new grow, Gentle as trees bearing fruit And my muse... Tiara Askew.  In words, pollen divided  Like honey is too sweet  On beds of toast, Ever spreading romance. Hearkening my sayings  Of Georgia pines and saw grass,  I carry about me my soul,  Composing sensuality I compose. Crooning, the bloom of flower, Opening petals, caressing the hour, ...Read On

12

Spend My day

I show emotion when I hear love songs, Read romance and watch dancers sway. Listen to whippoorwills call, And say good cheer. That is how I spend my day. I show emotion when I whisper In someone's ear and scented lobe, As shadows fall beneath the magnolias, When buzzing bees are making honey. That is how I spend my day. I show emotion when it rains silently, Of violin strings...Read On

15

Taco

Oh talisman, me mañana, Amulet of my juju  And swill of hocus-pocus, Tequila Kool Aid I sip.  Writing on parchment paper, Where words don't often stick, Before I step on tootsies, I play slap stick with my dick.  With salsa in my stepping's And creeping up of underwear, My balls slipped a notch, In my frigging crotch.  Hard-on in my awakening  And pussy in my thoughts, My...Read On

13

Dervishes

In my prosing portmanteau of leather,  Suited about my anatomy's bust,  Vestiges of images, my persona, Persuasions of my alternative ego. Master of The Squallin' Dervishes, Portal of desire, chanting a cappella,  Fixation, avant-garde of my pulse, Thumping echoes of throbbing lust. Chimes of arousing endowments, In the forest of the draping moss,  Braying to crescent moon...Read On

10

Hollyhock Maiden

Wasn't but a darkness a gloom,  Beneath shoal shadows,  Embers of my soul ago,  Splattering spatting ink,  From the deepening well. Crucible, the cold-fire lust, My jollies about me I trust.  In sobriquet of my alias, Rolin Tumbur...new chapters, I script. Intrepid prose, ark of cock swell, Quill dipping into dark shallows, The hollows of my noggin.  Posing erotic dissertations ...Read On

12

O'

Ole Buttons 'n' Bones, Walls are cold, Dew o' frost bite,  Dark lit chamber o' mine. Shrill o' quill squeak,  Skill o' rhymes, Twitching my cock, My sap streaks.  Absinthe, my punch knock, Swill o' poetic writ,  The cunt o' the chill, Cumming on my script.  Wallowing 'bout in my revel, Stroking my whatnot  And rocks o' testicles, Spewing the slew. Ole Buttons 'n' Bones And I...Read On

10

By The Numbers

When I came a knockin' With pussy on my noggin, Courting you with balls of blue,  I request a screw or two. With shoe spoon I nicked, My hard cock on your clit, Tight as a bee's comb, Honey on my dick.  Tits like croquet wickets, Nipples like fountain spigots,  When push came to shove, I got the flu bug.  Cunt, tablecloth spread,  Without candlelight Attached to my dick-head, ...Read On

9

Ten Fins

Last night, I said it with a thong,  How did I know, I had it on backwards?  My friend Earl, gave it the snappers, Five minutes 'fore the gawd-awful crappers. You had gone to the bowling alley,  It had to do with ten frigging fins And a vaginal itch.  What does Finland have to do with your cunt?  Then there is the case of your overbite.  You took a hunk of meat From the pastor's...Read On

9

Rum A Dum Dum

Dull moon on arisen, I give no sympathizing, Night of the braying bog, scratching with my quill, Neath the flaming wick and melting candle, In cupola of shadows, I lust my conniving. My tall cock-stick, in arabesque throbbing, Poetically ejaculating from mast of nine. Shrilling in the lark of my scribing, Bursting the cum, of rum a dum dum.  In minuets of silence and lost echoes,...Read On

11

Wisp-O'-The-Harrows

In wisp, winds whisper, Soft whispers of echoes Of my throbbing manhood, Echoes of silence whispering. Quaintly I sleep in dreams,  Dreaming of sensual 'morrows, Soft kisses from lips  And pleasures of the wisp. Wisp-o'-the-harrows be, Shadows of my nest, Caressing the flesh,  Of my poetic dove. Silk of the vagina, I hiss, Peak of adornment clit,  In mist of the chamber keep,...Read On

10

In Under Daylight

If love is true, more yesterdays in a song,  Even in melancholia or blue weather And age spots on your skin. It ain't all that you need bleached. It was only last night that you chipped your tooth, Sucking the bed post on the water bed, filled with vermouth,  Thinking it was Phil, Harry, whatshisname, Or the Maytag repairman. I was at the girlie show, putting dollars in G-strings  ...Read On

12

Petals And Thorns

The best of me is yet to be,  Beside quite whispers I'm at best. In jest, I quest my evermore,  Silently scribing erotic lore. Darkening lines fade to shade, With my quill I give nil erase, Temptations of darkening clouds,  And copulations I stream the ink  Scribbling my somberness still,  Trekking of the penis and slit, Cold gust blow my erotic seek,  Dripping precum chill...Read On

11

Good Old Days

When I was growing up in the deep south, Things were pretty easy and laid back. Whittling on a stick didn't cost a buck, And I didn't have to float a loan to get fucked.  Laying in a hammock stretched between trees, Shelling peanuts and swatting mosquitoes, Watching fireflies glow and counting stars,  Jacking-off was by the numbers. Now one needs a patch to get laid, Caffeine...Read On

12

The Number Eleven

In my mortal existing present benediction of the dark, Been blessed by compatible qualifiers of my disposition,  Arbiters of The Number Eleven, with inner knowledge. Abbey of the niche, in quaint abodes of Gothic harrows, Friars and Sisters of The Number Eleven,  In genuflection to the keeper of the lamp, we follow. In bondage of the flesh and it's entitlement we profess, ...Read On

11

Hucklebuck Man

Sweet is the dark, spaces in between And dust in the cracks, obsidian dreams, Dripping from moon's spoon.  Shadow of one's soul in aura of incense,  In bitter time for your comeuppance,  Surfing hollow clouds of flowing portents. Humping and grinding to my quill, Caw of the cuckoo, my cock rocks. Bestowing on you my hearkening stick. Hiss of the lips, from your vagina, ...Read On

13

Chilling Of The Bones

With serpent's eyes, I hear clearly,  Discernibly of the naïve, Chilling of the bones,  Tweeting in cold nest.  Darkness, I sway my bleariness, With my pen I jingle obsidian, On pages of everlasting words,  Copulations and connotations.  On rising of my cock's mast, Praising the cunt is my forte. In the north forty of half awake, Streaming ink in my insomnia.  Raw senses of...Read On

9

Picture On Wall

In quagmire of yellow pages I prose, Walking silently down hall in tow. Followed by my shadow in quest,  Deep muck I wade, creating a tempest.  Greeting the newborn haze of winter, Mice and mites scatter the cracks of timber.  Like tides caressing my ankles, trekking dust, Up to my waist I go, whispering kisses.  Silently she sleeps in framed wood, Golden hair and shapely hips rising. ...Read On

13

Gales Of The Wind Blow

Gales of the wind blow dark eeriness, Upon the bogs, briers of my thatch, Howling caws, omens in my bleariness.  Echoes of insomnia, my eyes blink thirst, Whispers of words scribe lust of my quest. Squalls of the thunder, the jackdaws call. In swagger my cock takes rise, Tempest of my quaking manhood,  Hungering of swooning sighs. Love of sensuality in shadows I hark,  ...Read On

12

Castilian Moon

Rumors of the proverbial sawmill And passing of my solo, I remain in tune to my quest,  Sensually hearkening with my quill.  Shrill of the coming dusk,  Aria of my awakening eyes, In truth I be nocturnal being,  Visiting you in dreams. In Sedgewick, my Gothic manse And flirtations with my swill, The cock of my manhood throbs, Beaming in my semen.  Touch of the Sandman's lips,...Read On

11

Vagabond Ooze

Liquid shadow, swilling pantomime, Lips hoisting bottle of haunts And chills of imagination,  Vagabond spreads lust.  Traveler in quest, giving frights, Words of the dark in my ever after, Beginning in the vagina, Cavern of the tempest storm.  Aberration of the genitalia,  Bequeathing my erection.  In cum, I sow my flowing butter,  On bread of her rising thighs.  In rant, I...Read On

12

Harsh, The Tempest

Harsh, the tempest storm, Howling silently screaming. Nomads of doom, eternal life,  Vagabonds croon, Psalms of the vampire.  In sequester, brewing lust, Copulations of quest we seek As the cauldron simmers. Fornicators of the catacombs, Thrusting out cocks. Carnal caravel, gilded coven, Swaying upon the bluing moon, Conjugating flesh. Beneath shadows of thyme,  Feminine...Read On

8

In My Swagger

In my swagger, the swank of my scribing,  Composing tomes, lauding chills of darkness. Staggering verses, erotic copulations and curses, Poetic attributes of the defining words. Behind gables of Hoo All Hallows, Green ivy entwining my mortal soul. Quaintness of my frolicking loft nest, Swooning, lost hint of my fist's chastising. Dripping cum of the poet's cock-tongue,  ...Read On

14

Diddling

Alleviating discomfort of diddly-squat,  I swill rum with nightly sediments. With my runaway pen on paper I scribe,  Chilling verses of diddling-twat. In fashion of long-ago scribblers, A soliloquy, my erotic aria.  Like a ghost of poetic persuasions,  Cellos of cherubs hissing curses. The prose of Adagio, I define, Aura of the ivy, writ of love.  Like sighs crooning in distance, ...Read On

12

Woo Of My Darkening

In woo of my darkening demeanor, Trending the side of eeriness scribing. Scratching out kernels on paper I writ, Enunciating in script forthwith. Seething erotic storms, brewing musk, Thunderous inclinations lusting within, In giving of my scribbling pen. Composing copulation of my stipends.  Compilations of nocturnal feasts, The erotic soul my quest, In unforgiving thirst,  My...Read On

10

In Hoo All Hallows

In Hoo All Hallows, near The River Thames, Caw of jackdaw at my gabled rest. Composing wayfarer dreams,  Darkness lift's me, my poetic words, Scribbling on dried-out parchment,  Deep eeriness, yet unheard.  Mired in truth of my sensuality. Crossing over time, shadows of tales, Trellises of ivy, webs of my bleak.  Cloak of The Sandman, I do best,  Dust of precum spreads it's given...Read On

10

Deep Tamarack

In my own fascination I'm kept, Consensually tied, in night of muskegs. Moss of my submissive keep, In deep tamarack, my being.  Chains of brass ting-a-ling.  Minions her gathering, I'm anchored bound, Collared, my leather mantilla worn. In new shadow I'm cast, Adorned in waistcoat of triviality.  Ogled by the crop, it eyes me. In name of the cross, my daily stay, St. Andrew's rack,...Read On

13

I Spoon Freely

In vistas, I hide not crones, Hags of Savannah Town, I compose.  Witches brew on tome pages, Vixens of erotic dominions And their pedigree. Stirring up clouds of November,  In darkening awakening  Of my arising shadow.  In covens, I sip soup, Intoxication of my soul, I spoon freely. In shrill, louder then the quill,  From depths of their cauldrons. My penis seeping.  ...Read On

9

Calling Of The Walls

In relevance of my being, Beneath aspiring quest. Shadowed by the elm, I keep the key. Waistcoat of my vest. Catacombs of my soul And calling of the walls, Echoes of my creation, Twisted of the dark.  Many torches, I lit. Oblique, meandering sways, Swilling my thoughts, Prosing emotions of the cock And shuttered gables.  I brew my fornications.  Mystique, I wear my...Read On

15

Erotic Tempest

In the obsidian heirloom of my dust,  I cast shadow, falsetto of my mime,  On crusty tomes and yellowing pages.  In the well of my creative cavity, My insomnia grasp me by the chill,  Like the quill, I scribe fornications. Born of spawning and steeping brew,  Ginseng tea and my scribbling pen stew, Cock and vagina, like fine china I queue.  Crunching words in far reaches of my sanity,...Read On

13

Phoenix Rising

Phoenix of my rising, Darkness my birth, sensuality my keep. The strings of my mind, cellos hum my soul,  I seek not forgiveness, of my enunciations. Threads of scribbling, my meandering pen, In corners of my renaissance, I comprehend. Coronation of my penis, this given writ, Empathy I sing. Olden quill, meet's mere opinions spite,  For they ignore true erotic quest.  In...Read On

11

Awakening Sleep

Phantasia, in my awakening sleep,  The other side of me I steep. Prosing out words of pleasures, I seek.  In catacomb of dark sensuality, Poetically brewing my personality, Jacking out stanzas of copulations, My cock rises.  On stick, my prick of this occasion, You saddle my thighs, riding. The fest I quest, of my sobriety, Swilling lust from my feathered quill. Throbbing,...Read On

12

Hum A Ditty

In striving what I seek, Wonderment of personal being. The keeper of the key I be, Locked within my inner circle.  On crushed lines of written pages, The quill lays down my foundation, Within the walls of my soul, I remain undefined.  In truth, exemplifying my maleness, Shadow of fine looming, I tune, Passionately miming my minuet. Blowing kisses, still of the night.  Like...Read On

11

Restraints

In restraints, of my consent, On cross of St. Andrews desk hung.  Shaft of my manhood looms, Dripping my droppings of tomes.  Poetically throbbing out prose, My mind swoons, that of my lust. Dominatrix, the muse of my chapters, Presents kisses on shaft-quill of scribbling.  In darkness, I croon every night the words,  One's that physically excite my proclivities. The Sandman...Read On

10

Long Tooth

In my long tooth of nightly swill, Jacking out words and synonyms, Poetically grasping my maleness.  Doodling my pen, my quill feather, On dry leaves and chapter of books, Shadows arise, my darkening rhymes.  Wiling away in the hourglass of time, My cock thirst, the flask of vagina, In the abbey of my abyss, scribing lust.  On the rising of the dawn's prick, Taking grasp, the...Read On

9

Shadow In Mime

On fringes of horizons, my rising sin,  Words on pages defining my me. Within my being sensuality shines, Shadows in mime, I comprehend.  For those that don't know me, They probably never will. I am the voyager of my universe, Seeking the key. Traveler of quill, on pages I compose, Fetish of erotic quiche, The daredevil of my cock ascends, Within the valley of womanhood.  ...Read On

7

I Guess

When you think of moments ago,  Of words said in silent whispers,  Empty shadows of one's soul.  Falling snow, upon frozen dew,  Sipping thyme tea most eloquently,  In darkness of the quivered quill.  Feelings of my endearing lass, I cast my self on your eeriness, With love, I confess my ever'ness.  Aura of my musing companion, Sensing vibes, I confide, Inclinations of...Read On

9

Silence I Spend

I, my best friend, silence I spend,  In dark corners I comprehend, Whispering to my shadow's mime.  Tales chilling, dripping of ink, Like cracking of the ice,  Hearing the tempest masturbate. Stumbling lines like on stones, Frozen eeriness of my soul, Echoes howling, my fucking lust. Forsaken me my lack of sleep, Cobwebs in crevices of my eyes, No sympathy do I receive. My...Read On

12

My String

In the near reaches of my evermore,  On the plains of my sanity, I compose prose of sensuality, Which arouses my string. Blues on melancholia, Cum dripping down my pencil, Visions dance with me, In my sanctity by the sea.  Cold thrills of ebony, Soft arms drawing me near, Chills of my cock throbbing, Shadows masturbating in thin air. Lesbians of my composing, Arabesque on my...Read On

12

Spills The Ink

In prose there is breath of sensuality. The words of the Sandman, I am he, who spills ink. With stem of the feather I scribe, So be it for given eyes to read, Erotic parables of the flesh swaying. Evenings bring falling melodies Of laughter's and hijinks, Thrill of the dark, I harken my lust. Oyster of the cunt, I divide willing, The clit of the pearl I suckle on dish, ...Read On

9

In peppermint

I have been ridiculed, spat at and shouted at, By those that haven't an iota of sensuality, Thinking I disrupt their fantasy behavior.   They swallow porn, which is an act, Performed by those without a spirit, Gifted by long strokes and not art. The gift of prose in my darkening, Is subject to thinking and believing. On paper eroticism lives. I have been ridiculed, spat and shout,...Read On

9

Edge Of Wickets

On edge of Wickets, near the village of Sorrows, My Victorian manse stands in thickets and thorns. Surrounded by bogs of chilling muck, Swamps bubbling darkening stuff.  Beyond Savannah town of vines and ivy, On trellises of soft silk grow, Phantoms of the quaintness of my abode. The flesh, I wallow many days ago.  Gated of iron and steel, behind closed doors, Habitation of eerie...Read On

9

Topaz Fantasies

In shallows of muck I truck,  Sloshing away at my eeriness, The mortal being of myself, Hashing out words of dark woe. Cornerstone of my soul's fest, I hone out, dusk of day,  Tales of the cock's throb And swelling of my prowess. In rejuvenation of my prose, Spawning seed of erotica, Drooling precum lube-ooze. Fools play, inebriated chimes.  Forking out crap of their epitome, ...Read On

8

Ooze

As I compose, sitting in my think tank, The well of my ink formulates prose. The feathered quill of my cuckoo scribes, Caw of the bellowing bird. Raising the cock, my pendulum stick, The methadone throbs words.  Pricking the pen upon the parchment, Dew of my penis slides it's ooze.  On flesh, the poetic beast kiss, The rising of thundering thighs. Portal of cunt,...Read On

11

Before 'Morrow

In my musty queue of cobwebs  And mildew on old tomes, A harpsichord mellows my feathered quill. The taper's wick simmers in shadows.  In darkness nest before 'morrow, Masturbating between stanzas, Swilling out sipping's of my chills.  Stir not my truffles, I'm swizzling cum. In longhand, I scroll copulation's amenities, Weaving erotica on my mind's loom. The pen the prick of...Read On

8

Lost Chapters Of My Being

Gist of the tales, swell in my evermore, Like moon glow shadows, the spirits pass,  Bringing me to lost chapters of my being. Yesterday's fortnight of my scribbling pen, Prosing a regiment of fornications spend.  On paper transcending to my nightly lust. The majestic plume-quill is fuller than the prick, With ink, my cock scribes copulation adventures, On the pillows she lay...Read On

7

Bastard Of My Own Conclusions

The bastard of my own conclusions, some say, Drawing on erotica to breathe of my life, For I give pleasures to those that simmer, Within my cauldron, that some call black.   Wherefore my quill doesn't fill their ink. Out spoken on the ridiculous, I spat.  Within the assembly of their circle jerks, For they have dis-plumed me. As for as a poet, I'm unrefined in skills, Dining on...Read On

11

Putting On My High Top Galoshes

Like all writer's, the names and locations have changed in order that I can stretch my imagination. With the exception of Savannah, Georgia, most is pure swamp water fabrication. I pride myself in being both literate and illegitimate, as I made it through university. Although my family is dysfunctional, we don't get along past my weekly donations to their Sunday bingo's. My mom finds...Read On

11

Gumshue

It all started several months ago when I, Envious Gumshue, was given my pink slip at The Toadstool Inn restaurant. You would have thought that it would have come with lace, but it did get my attention. One has to understand, what "The Stool" lacked in etiquette, it made up for with chewing gum stuck beneath the tables. However, on first entering, you got the feeling of silence as if...Read On

10

Gump Stump

To hear rumors between cracks,  I'm obviously kinked, Bent at insanity And a bit loose in the treads.  With a yank of my mentality, I become unraveled, so some say.  I see dark at the end of my pen,  Writing erotica without sentimentality.  As my mind throbs out verses Of my uninhibited carousing, On paper I sashay my proclivities, Without nostalgia. Poetically adverse to...Read On

7

Eccentric

In my sanctum and my all about me, My whisperers follow my shadows As if spirits within my habitat strolling.  I'm hailed as an eccentric, pinching tush. As I ramble, wearing my sanity, On my lapel I pin white roses. Cravat and chapeau, carrying a cane, High top shoes and argyle socks.  The poet with dust, I sprinkle prose, Of gigolos, maidens and a few pimps. Sometimes...Read On

7

Hang Not Your Chapeau On My Obituary

Hang not your hat on my obituary, Unless you have a longer peg. For I will scribe darkness of my repast, Sipping on my hemlock tea. On the cuckoos and ticking pendulums  And long coattails of my coffin bearers, Skipping along merrily, doing it fast.  Listening to screams of their sentiments,  Through it all I remain compliant Of the fools that label me eccentric. Contrary...Read On

7

Old Hammers

My grandpa once told me on one occasion, As he gave me a wink of the eye, "Son, old hammers don't fit in boxes anymore."  Little did I know his reasoning confession, Until he bit off more then he could swallow Of his tobacco and chewing skills.  Grandma was on the porch snapping green beans, Her dress folded over what I thought a prayer book. Humming some old southern ditty.  ...Read On

5

Wacky-Wick

Chilling words of dark lust, The prowess of the phallus And the wacky-wick prick. Smiling in my midnight lust.  In conclave of my epitome,  Behind my sanity I forestall, Public opinions of my profession. Jacking-off curses. Silence of my poetic scribbling, Writing on moonlit hour.  Shadows on the whispering walls,  Suffering from lack of sleep. Carved of mahogany the pen scrolls, ...Read On

8

Sixty-four Squares Beneath Trees

Shadows on clouds of jousting hour, Silently seeking my lost cello string, Broken by a runaway bow. The poet brings you psalms of prose, Beneath trees.  Twenty-nines steps to Aberdeen town, A stones throw to Kintore my keep. Hearkening poetically of sensuality, The poet of the harp sings, Beneath trees.  On paper I scribe my proclivities, Thirty-two pieces of chess my tales....Read On

9

Nincompoops

Old nincompoops of society, I abide daily. Riding on coattails they scream foul. They don't ascertain sobriety of my sayings Given their proclivities of animation And dissertations of my behavior. Darkness I profess, Gothic lust turning to dust. Creation of desires on the cusp of written pages. Eerily spirits go; the aura of dawn's mist, Poetically rambling the flesh with my kiss. ...Read On

6

Winter Gardens

Winter gardens of ice maidens, Frozen poetically on paper, Like frost on willows,  Kissing the dew.  February's smile, Her name of the season. Given me reasons, To write romantically. Her love I cradle, Within my very soul. Effervescence of musk. Aura of tranquility. Flow now swiftly, my prose, Before the ink dries. Words from the well, Of her sensuality.  Like snow...Read On

7

Canisters

In the oblivious of my humbleness, Casting shadows on canisters, The shredded bones of tomes within. I stir as if cauldrons with paddles.  Piecing together words of poetic sway, Questioning not my mental way, Dark tales rising from ink of my well. Drying on paper composing sensuality. Of forget-me-not's and contraries, Cobwebs of dew, dripping on glass. Etching I scribe...Read On

8

Ancient Rider

Like bricks of mortar, stacks of tomes, On fields of dust they lay in catacombs. Collecting prints of fingers caressing, The Ancient Rider of chariots, I address.  In cellar's webs and moist obituaries, Storms awaken the thundering keep, As the hunching monk grins cavities. Striking flint, on wax phalluses. On bust of flesh and cunt drippings,  My quill survives poetically, ...Read On

7

Trumpeter

On fringes of hoot from one-eyed cuckoo, My trumpeter of dusk awakens me. The laird of skittish wails I yell, From inside my domicile. From quill, broad sword of my feather, The bellwether of my imaginations, Etching words of intoxicating impositions. Erotic subsidies arousing my proclivities. Like a canter at midnight celebration, My testicles of blue rocks, tightening,  Below...Read On

11
Recommended Read

Shadow's Ivy

Like other members of the family flock, I attended Dartmouth University, majoring in mediocrity and minoring in meteorology, following in my uncle's footsteps, chasing tornadoes and aspiring stage dancers... perhaps a rainbow or two. I managed to slip narrowly through the cracks and received a very thin sheepskin diploma. I was ready to seek the high and low fronts of being a weather person. ...Read On

7

In Darukavana.

In Darukavana, mountain high, I catch my breath pausing. Like spirits awakening in me, The wooded earth breathes.  Fortuitously I ascend to plateau, Where upon I sketch clouds sleeping. As if on the crest of new dawn's eyes, Of sensuality comprehending beauty.  Like 'mallows of pillows, down of air, Vision of tranquility scenically whispering. Erotically soaring, my penis throbs....Read On

11

Yawning

At day the shadows follow in my composing, On the edge of dusk I write, yawning. In darkness words fall like wet thoughts dripping, Coughing in my misgivings. Cascading from the well of my mind's repertoire, Like a mime the feather of the owl, Slings ink upon the dais of yellow parchment. The hour of the hoot. Scribing on, like sages I writ, On crumpled words of my...Read On

10

Wickedly-Wackity

Spawning follies under darkening skies, On cusp of thunder I thrive lust about me.  With dust from my soul, Sandman's rising. Like storms brewing in clouds of my lust,  Words sling wickedly-wackity from my mind,  Of erotic sensuality dripping from my pen. Masturbation, don't fail me on my dusk trek, Beneath the rain, I inherit the musk And midnight's purple.  Smiling in my...Read On

7

Assurance Of My Being

In my quaint abode kilometers from infinity, I abide my mortality mongering tomes, The words of composers who trekked before me, As I jest in mime with their spirituality. I think not I am a fool. My nightly swills from crevices I ascend, Dust and sprinkles my sand depends. The hourglass of my mentality rising, Giving my confessions of condolence. On the fringes of the bog, spirits wafting. ...Read On

5

My Writing Stick

Swizzling quill the joust of my writing stick,  Often stirring intoxication of eerie inebriations.  Like thawing ice my composing drips.  Frost of the dusk dew chilling my prose. With lackluster haunts I compose, Tales of dark erotica. Whimsical quotations of my baroque ego And renaissance of the ivy tower askew, Swirling steps up the obelisk.   Etching drawings with dying embers, ...Read On

7

Standing Stones

Wheezing of my sobriety and the dry month on my pen, On herbal tea with rum I steep within my comprehend.  My bonnie lass of Aberdeen town, Her shadow awakens my poetic intentions. The chill of the dew on the fallen branches lay stoned,  Like a quilt of darkening times caressing olden tomes.  In hollows of my harking blue erotica I compose,  Quagmires restraining the catacombs of...Read On

6

Night Of Green Legumes

poetic imaginations

All about me in my bleary eeriness, On the crust of my daily shed. Do not forsake me, my screaming penis,  This night of green legumes. Sipping tea with a hint of mint, My cock does winds sprints On chime of my pendulum rooster  And doodle-doo.  Bearing snapdragons of females And pussy contraptions, Conniptions of lust I screw Up to my testicles blue.  Your zinfandel sweet vagina...Read On

6

Thundering Beast

Hollow winds upon the bogs of my awakening, Defying literature of sweetness and refinement. Poetically I am attached to darkness prosing, In kinship of the thundering beast.  In my personality of a bookshop keep, A redeemer of soft flesh I compose. As if a moth under the halo of light I dance, Ambidextrously tossing my proclivities. My soul of Sandman and erotic inclinations, ...Read On

4

Sprinkling Dreams

Sprinkling dreams in her eyes, I arabesque dusk to morn. On wings of blue butterflies.  Sandman mimes shadows of nocturnes. My proclivities of lust swaying, Fornication of midnight dripping. Caressing my uniqueness of prosing, On parchment of dames of ivy. My tongue slides about her womanhood.  Deep crevice of love nest feast. Talons of my fingers steep.  Wading in juices of...Read On

8

Daily Ado

In my daily ado as keeper and sweeper of tomes, Poetically I scribed not of lamp moths,  But sensuality of Sandman's flirtation with prose. Erotically I have no misgivings, As opinions are passé. Darkness is the fillet mignon of erotic thrills, And the tenderness of soft flesh I thrive. By-passing Marigolds and sweets,  Chilling with my quill I feast. Scribing on lines I drip my seed....Read On

7

Stones Jousting

Erstwhile in my banter of mortality, I was but a bookshop monger scribing. Barely eking out dust mites squeaking, Ignored by cobwebs in my dormers. Etching philosophy of hummingbirds wafting.  Insomnia grabbing me by my latch pin, In quest of arousal I confess. My incubation of darkening erotica, As my penis flirted in my inclination. Self rising and throbbing toasting rum. Within...Read On

5

Stones Of Blue

In deep crevices dust mites hide, Beneath old pages and in nooks. As if avoiding the dawn, And shades of hue.  Cobweb blankets of public opinions Garner small fractions of my tomes. That caress my shelves,  Scribing sensuality. The bookshop my musty possession, Within the dark bowels of Budapest. Exuding erotica of harken fetishes, And fornications of my eeriness. On entrance...Read On

8

Beyond The Brothels

On eroticism I was suckled,  In the valley of the tits. Lactation finely tuned me, In seeking out sensuality. Together with my journal, I took leave of my mother home. Setting foot in Budapest, I thrived on fornication. It was there in nightly swills And brothels of stoned cold women, I regained the quality of my wits, Forthwith used my quill. On hollow halls I wandered, In...Read On

8

Whispered To Blue Butterflies

In my poetic escapades of erotic pleasures, I have kissed the stones of lustful vagabonds. Caressed the marble of maidens breasts. Whispered to blue butterflies, And masturbated on cobwebs.  I have fornicated with dryads of the mighty oak. Splurged my cum upon weeping willows. Entwined my limbs on shapely boughs. Scribed on bark my dark eeriness, And performed fellatio...Read On

8

Suffering Not Belladonna

One's soul light the flame of true eroticism, The wick is but the quill to flow wax of cum. Behind the cowlings of the gables, I sigh, On the edge of new day's dawn, yawning. Without my accomplice, insomnia,  I would give in to peaceful rest. Behind the cowlings of the gables, I ignore, Mystic fables of fairytales conniving.  Scribing on parchment of darkness I 'writ, Grit of...Read On

4

Lamplighter

Precarious I am not wrought, With prose of unstableness. For I scribe words of praise, As the Sandman enlisting mortals. Seeking those of parallel I scribe, Without oblivion I am darkness. In quest of those equal in thought, Uncaring of public opinions.  Composing on shoestrings taunt, Across my sane soul of leather, My erotica is sensuality. Not porn of kingdom lost. Keeper...Read On

11

Willows Weep

When willows weep they sing lullabies, Like sensual dust as you lay sleeping, Of psalms and poetry.  Bringing tears of joy and happen stance, Every lasting prose promenading in dreams. The visions of one's soul.  In relevant ways main stays sway poetically, On gifts of engagement and seasons of the heart.  Eternal spring. Sharing embraces of sweeping soft breezes,  As if boughs...Read On

5