Wednesday, July 3, 2019

The Ride

Richard Thompson - 1952 Vincent Black Lightning
Image result for 1952 vincent black lightning

Today he went for a ride
Nowhere in particular
Deadly dance
Traffic so thick
Stick
In
Or out
The dodge
The dart
So smart
Three steps ahead
You have to be

Mind drifts
As its want
Happened weeks ago
Perhaps months
One or two

She had returned
His Molly
Bonnie lass
How
Her fingers ran
When they ran
Through his hair
Up there

There

Where

Time could stand still
For only a moment
Before
She ran

Inglorious goodbye
Yet
He smiled

She was his beautiful bird
Flying in his mind
Forever
But this day
For a moment
He allowed her
To build a nest

For a moment

He saw her glory
He saw that she was happy
Or as happy as she could be
Maybe

Maybe

Let her know
She was glorious
He was so proud of her
Her
She had survived
If only
She had fought the fight
And won
He was proud

With a turn of his throttle
He had to pass
She had to fly
And he

He had to ride
All the while
Avoid
Running out of road

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

For a moment


Sting - Shape of My Heart (Leon)

He could hear her laughter.

He opened the door.  There she stood.  Her demure smile only intensified her beauty... the atmosphere.  Her lips... dripping... beckoning... so red.  So very red.    He had come to play... and the game was afoot.

In her pirouettes, he gentle turning so.... so very close.  With every move, every movement, she drew closer to him.  All the while beckoning him to pull closer to her. 

The inevitable contact arrived.

Heat burned through the denim as his fingers drew across her curves so supple... so divine.  The fire within him raged.  Yet...

He knew if he moved... even a fracture closer... he would be consumed in her inferno. 
...
He longed.

Everso.

To dive.  To delve.  To pierce.  To join... souls... destinies... if only for an eternal destiny ordained moment. 

She was beautiful.

Everso.

Remarkable.

Everso.

Precious.

So much more than she would ever know....

Ever.

So.

Her twist turned.  But only for a moment.

Saturday, June 1, 2019

One more time

Lady Gaga meets Journey - David & Josh Ross - Edge of Glory / Don't Stop Believin' Mashup

She
Was quick
So quick
Like mercury
Sliding between the fingers

Quicksilver

You wanted to hold
But before you know
She was gone

With a touch
Lethal
The longer
You tried to hold
As it slid
Across

You looked into
Eyes so longing
To find
A port
Safety
Refuge
If only
Somehow
From the storm

Come to me
You cried
As you saw
Lips burning
So
So
Foolishly hoping they might burn
For you
As you live
In a wold
So
As she
Lives
In a world
So

Ever so

Can I
For a moment
Praise you
Your body
So tight
So Firm
So
So
Ever so
You eyes
Contain the tempest
Swirling
Yet also contain
The shelter
The safety
As only the eye can

As only the eye can
Bumbled
Bautched

Beautiful



Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Mea Culpoa

Enigma vs Madonna - The Enigma Within - Robin Skouteris!

Soft movements
So innocent
He felt her press
Her heat
So primal
Against his
Press
So rugged

So primal

Mea Culupa

Against her gyrations
The building of sensuous
Grace
Circling press
Against him

So soft
So urgent
Longing
Wanting
For a return

Rise, so soft
So supple
In her neck
As she came in contact
With him
Pressing
Longing
To feel
That
So long
Denied

She touched
She felt
She longed
Her rub
Pressed
Back
Ever so
Ever so
Longing
Ever so

Mea Culpa

His hands rose
Desperate for completion
Of the fire
Burning so long

Burn with me
Consume me
Let me bathe in your water
Without price

Let me pull you
Into me
Feel my trace
As I search for your desire
Erupting

Let us burn together
And be consumed
Each to ached
And in the embers of our fire
We whisper
Each to each

Nostra culpa

Monday, April 15, 2019

Roadblox

The Prodigy- Roadblox (Fury Road)

Dear Andrew... so the letter began.

I could tell that they had no idea who I was.  I am Andy.  Do you see my achievements?  Do you see my publications?  My award winning documentaries?  Little matter.  I have done all that you said I should.  I have acted my part, so glorious in  play, yet always has the deck stacked against me. 

How did I respond?

A simple e-mail.  I asked how I could improve myself for the next available slot.  I did this perhaps in defiance of the fact that I have improved all that the nameless, faceless, rep from HR told me... improve your service hours.  In academia, I surround myself with a glorified Jr. High school.  What clique do you belong to?  Are you one of the approachable ones?   Little did they now.... 

Scoundrels cloaked in fear.

Save me.  I am indefinable.  In response to your byzantine levels... I laugh.  At lest I own myself. 

So my response carried... what can I do?  What can I do?  To make me more hirable to other colleges or Universities?  Tell me?  Or in other words... describe why I was refuted.  The best.  The boldest.  The brightest.  Brought low....

Explain.

That is all I asked.

So kind.

So clever.

Justify your love... or lack.... thereof.

I am the one on the outskirts.  All my students love me.  I am an excellent professor.  I am... I am... I am the cornerstone the builder refused.  I am not asking why.  I am merely asking you to help me succeed. 

If you hate me... that is okay.  We don't have to like everybody.  I merely thought my almost ten years of excellent service to you was worth something.  Especially as the district once offered me a full time job.  At least before I was honorable enough to offer them my treatment by the History School at UNT.  Look in pride my colleagues. Mercurial pride brought forth a harvest of flowers... all of which died a day after they bloomed.  Bene!  Celebrate your victories!

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Forever forward

Gaelic Storm An Irish Party In Third Class

To dance
For a moment
Following to the next
As time collapses
Forever forward

To breathe
To live
To laugh
To love
For a moment
Following to the next

You will have to get close
To another
Neither knows the steps
Neither cares
Life erupts

All one has to do
Is dance
For a moment
Following to the next
Collapse
Forever forward

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Every breath we drew

A Wonderful Version of Leonard Cohen's ~ Hallelujah

In the end he did find the words, and they were simple.

Her words, born of rage, furious contempt,... no so much so.

So it was.  So it shall always be.

Simple sign that she truly had forgot... all she was... all she could be.

Never try to save a drowning person.

Wounded animals will only strike.

He woke.  All he could remember was a tendril trace of a vision that had graced him.  He had not thought of her, for so long, so long.  Yet there she was.  Could he tell you what she was wearing?  Not really.  It was some form of dress.  Could he tell you what he was wearing?  No.  Probably jeans and a shirt.  Pretty descriptive. 

That didn't matter.  Why?  In the dream they met as little more than they always were... friends.  They talked.  They laughed.  They were.

If for only a moment.

They were.

The him.

The her.

The one, bound by a gravity that pulled one to the other. 

Simple.

Pure.

Maybe there's a god above.

It won't be found in the cold and broken Hallelujah.