Friday, April 27, 2012


Sometimes, we have moments in our lives when we experience humanity in all of its truest and, at times, meanest form. We step on each other’s feelings, make each other cry,, stab each other in the back … generally act like the antithesis of who we really are destined to be. Why? We do it in the name of achievement, in the name of getting ahead … we even call it destiny at time, forgetting that we have in our own quest, squashed someone else’s God-given destiny. We forget that we are basically the same person … we are one body, really, and as such, we are mandated to treat each other with respect, kindness and love. Never forget where you’ve come from, no matter how supposedly grand the achievement. Hold fast to the values instilled into your soul by your parents. Take care of the little ones around you – the young, the weak, the infirm. Do good and good will attend you. The moment we begin giving more than is actually required, that is the moment when we reap the benefits due us.

Saturday, January 28, 2012


He’s not mine, I’m not his …
Yet the magnetic pull
Between us boggles the mind.
We make no sense
Outside of stolen moments
When hands grope for places
And things oft talked about
When clothing feels like prisons
When eye contact speaks volumes
And a touch transmits the sexual electricity
Between us – the current that shouldn’t be
Whispers of words that
Translate willingly into “Fuck me please”.
The scent of each other’s skin
The sound of our voices
The glimpse into each other’s thoughts
Thoughts consumed by the possibility
Of further stolen moments
When we consummate this mind blinding need
To sweetly fuck till the need subsides,
But it doesn’t…
To touch and to taste till there’s nothing new,
But yet there is …
There will always be a yen for
Stolen moments
Secret times, illicit sweetness
Blind release, and naughty, naughty musings…

Monday, January 9, 2012


So, you’re not a writer.
So you say…
You’re a doer…
Let me tell you, baby
That your actions are
Your words
And your words, your pen.
You weave quite the story with the movement of those
Sweet, sexy lips,
With the movement of your hands …
With the promises of the bulge in your jeans –
The bulge you say
Was created by the
The thought of my warm, soft flesh, pressed against
The masculine plains of
Your body’s landscape.

Would that I would
Be permitted to run
My hands over your
Willing geography
Oh … to be permitted
To explore you from
The top of your head
To the soles of your feet
And do let me stop
At the fountain that’s
Strategically placed
In the centre of it all.

Let me drink from
That spout, in the
Same way that you talk of worshipping at
My Holy Oasis.
Let me lay my
Ever yielding body –
Open as it is –
Down upon your
Dessert sands, which
Spring to life fully
At my touch

Let me taste the
Brown sugar that
Is your beautiful skin.
Let me become one with
You on this sweet ride
Into total oblivion
And release
Let me – just this once –
Let you bring us both
To completeness as we
Find the time and place
To truly give in to
This sweet, shared
And treasured obsession.

January 9, 2012