A POEM: Solutions & Survival

July 4, 2011

Back to the up all night and no sleep routine. It’s an old act I developed in high school or was it college? Not a stand-up comedy routine. Could be at this point because if I don’t laugh I’ll cry.

 

Cry. Soft whimpering cries. Loud screaming cries.

 

No dies. Not yet.

 

Tired wired eyes. I doze off then wake up. I wake up I doze off.

 

I tried to eat my worries last night and I couldn’t keep them down.

 

I’m hungry then I can’t eat. Can’t sleep. What can I do?

 

My body rejects my denial and forces me to think. Think. Think

 

I slept earlier yesterday after a panic attack. Anxiety attack. Anxiety went into cruise control and got into an accident with my insides and outsides. I was inside. Inside.

 

I slept yesterday. It was a dream. Not the sleep. It was dream to sleep. The day before I slept. Slept early. Awoke early.

 

Productive. Creative. Happy. Happy.

 

Today and last night and some other nights the pains in my face drove me to a painkiller. Kill the pain. Kill pain.

 

Kills pain. I can’t sleep. Can’t sleep. I dream of sleep. Dream sleep.

 

Remember the night owl I once was? I wanted to be? Proud to be?

No worries.

 

Worries. Problems. Dilemmas. Solutions.

Solutions.  Think. Think man, think. A Solution. Solutions.

 

Solution? Not there yet. Not sure I’m anywhere yet. Had one or two or three or more. Solutions. Each solution is kicked out of the way by a bigger worry. Bigger problem. Bigger dilemma.

 

I cry. I laugh. I get outraged. I am sensitive. Sensitive artist. Bah.. Starving artist. Bah..

 

I go away for a minute. Two maybe three. Minutes. I am surrounded by love and sex and fantasies I make up as they float through my dreams.

 

I get home to an empty fridge and a coffee table cluttered with reminders of my worries. I scramble for solutions. I do what I can to solve the worries, problems and dilemmas.

 

Productive. Creative. Happy?

 

Not sure. Doubt. Hope. In between.

 

Go forward. Move ahead. Back to the taxi. Whip it.

 

Maybe I will. Whip it. Whip it good.

 

I win even If I lose.

I survive. Survive.

 


Echoes of Pain: A Poem

June 15, 2011

Echoes of pain.

 

The sweet sensation.

 

Ohh . . .

 

The comforting echoes of pain.

 

The aftermath of a storm in my face.

 

A tornado disconnecting the wiring in my face.

 

Waves of electricity stabbing me.

 

Agony. Welcome home extreme agony.

 

Just before it goes away.

 

Just before the pain goes away there’s a feeling.

 

A feeling that echoes through my face.

 

Telling me it’s going to pass.

 

The sweet sensation.

 

Ohhh.

 

Echoes of pain.


I’m Over- A Poem & Experimental Video

May 11, 2011

I’m Over

Over

I’m Under

I’m Under the spell.

The scent, the feel, and the entire experience.

Under it.

Under them.

Her.

You.

I’m distracted with obsessive focus.

First I thrust through the clouds into something I would never dream about.

Then I relax and follow the compulsive winds.

I’m Under.

I arrive.

I’m there.

I’m here.

I’m In.

I’m in it. I’m in them.

Her.

You.

Release. Relax. Control.

I’m over. I’m over.

Over.


Yowza!!

April 20, 2011


Digital Art by Rich Hillen Jr

February 18, 2011


Digital Distorted Portrait or Something

February 15, 2011


Be My Valentine- Excerpt from Yellow Socks Confessions of a Non-Don Juan

February 14, 2011

This is my Valentine’s Day story loosely based on a real life story from my novel Yellow Socks: Confessions of a Non-Don Juan. Warning: it’s unrated so parental guidance is suggested.

Be My Valentine?

 

I was finally fucking a hot chick again. Her name was Lena. It was wonderful. She had the best pair of legs. Nice perky tits. Her face was one of the prettiest I ever kissed. The foreplay that night lasted about an hour and a half, which is a miracle for me.

 

Let me back this up a bit.

 

About two and a half years before I was totally obsessively in love with this young girl who I thought liked me named Doris. She worked at the Heritage’s convenience store near where I worked at the time. She was just 18. You know what I mean. The way she looked… The first time I asked her out we made plans to meet up after work and she stood me up. Then she gave me this story of how her brother had to go to the hospital and there were no phones etc. So I blew it off. Whatever.. Yeah right. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. So she calls me and tells me how much she likes me and we should go out again. I made plans again. And this time she stood me up because her brother was in jail. Ok shit happens. Meanwhile, I was going absolutely crazy wanting to be with this girl but I put off making plans again. Somewhere in between the two dates I manage to kiss her and she was very passionate. She seemed like she dug me based on the way she put her tongue in my mouth. So the wacko with no common sense that I am made plans with her for the third time.

 

She did it again!! Fuck!

 

So I blow her off and want nothing to do with her and she doesn’t seem to understand why. She wrote me a note saying she wanted to makeup and all that stuff. So I waited a while and finally talked to her and we made plans for Valentine’s Day, Feb 14, 2002.

 

Over the weekend I ran into Lena, a girl that my friend used to date when she was 18. We were in a band together and he wrote a song about her that I sang. So I hung out with Lena at a Diner that night and really hit it off. We kissed good night passionately. We made plans for early the following week around Feb 11th.

 

I came over and she was all over me. I just stood there and tried not to respond because I had a strange loyalty to Doris and I was going to be with Doris on the 14th, So Lena just keeps rubbing against me trying to get me horny and I was but I still resisted. She took off her shirt and started dancing with her pierced nipples bouncing around. She pealed of her jeans to reveal her blue thong. She stood there the princess of temptation. She was twenty-three now and looked better than when she was eighteen years old.

 

She started playing with her pussy like I have never seen before. Her hand was under her thong just rubbing her clit and moaning and she touched me. I just watched like it was on TV or something wanting to touch her but not wanting to back down on my promise to myself. She finished. We talked a little. She pretended she understood. I left.

 

Valentines Day I got up and was ready for my big date. I had this lingering feeling throughout the day that Doris was going to cancel. I saw her in the afternoon and she said we were still on. I started to see the light. I called Lena and told her I wanted to see her. She was free. So at the last minute before I leave work I went to see Doris. Sure enough she couldn’t make it. I thought to myself “Thank God I didn’t buy her anything.” Off to Lena’s apartment I went.

 

On my way I threw together a poem I thought might make her feel good. I read it to her when I arrived. She loved it. She stripped down to her thong again. It was red for Valentines Day. She helped me with my clothes. We kissed. She tasted like gum and cigarettes. I licked her neck down to her nipples. I love nipple piercings. I bit the rings and pulled them hard with my teeth. She moaned. I felt her nice round ass and squeezed to see what she could take. She said she wanted to do something wild. Wanted me to choke her. I choked her as I dry humped her. I smacked her face hard. She smiled. I pulled her hair and forced my dick into her mouth. She sucked it with all of her breath. She gagged a few times and I pulled out.

 

“Lick my pussy.” She said.

 

I went down and pulled off her thong to reveal a shaven pussy with a clit ring. I licked and pulled on the clit ring. She screamed a good scream. I smacked her ass until it was dark red. She jerked me off for a while. I turned her over and licked her ass. I fucked her feet. After an hour and a half of these various sexual acts It was time to put it in her. She spread. I put on the condom and slipped it in. Just as I started pumping her I started to lose my erection. I tried several ways of getting it up and none worked. She tried to help. After a half hour of attempts, she stood up frustrated and told me to get out.

 

“I can do this.” I said.

 

“This has never happened to me. I can’t handle this” she said.

 

“Really. Just give me a few minutes.”

 

“Out! Now!”

 

“But.”

 

I left to never see her again. It was the last time I got laid in years. I remember every little detail.

 


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