Tuesday, June 2, 2026

The Phoenix rises (2014)

  

She wasn’t always

The butterfly

I see now.

She was a caterpillar first,

Later emerging

With unfolded wings

So tender

I fear to touch them

Even with the tip

Of my finger or tongue,

Wings that yawn open

Before me to expose

Her inner being,

The curves of her

Like folds of a flower,

Needing to be pressed,

Shuddering when I do,

(at least in my mind)

All of her open to the

Light of day,

To be admired,

Blooming and fragile

Yet firm, too,

Toughened by her time

In deep hibernation,

And so, like a phoenix

She rises from the ashes

Of her demise,

More potent than before

Ane more tempting,

Though with an invisible

Sign saying: “look, don’t

Touch” only I

Always do.



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Rule #1

 

  Rule #1: Do what she says.

Rule #2: When in doubt, consult Rule #1

All that is unsaid, is made clear by circumstance.

Do what she says or else, accept what is and always will be, settled for what she allows you to have when in face there is nothing you can do about it anyway.

Rule # 1 rules all, nothing else exists, and the sooner you accept this, the better off you’ll be. You can’t ever make her happy, but you might manage to satisfy her needs.

You do what she says or she has no use for you. Don deep, where I counts, where the truth lay, it is all you really want anyway.


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Monday, June 1, 2026

cheating

 

She said she never cheated, although men sometimes cheated on their wives and girlfriends with her.

Something that didn’t bother her, it’s on those men’s shoulders.

But is it cheating if the man she’s with cheats on her first – claiming she was cheating so he had a right to cheat as well.

How can she not cheat when she is the eye candy on stage all the men on and off the stage lust after.

How could she say “No” when she could have any of the, all of them, even all of them at once if she wanted to?

She talks about the old woman on the cruise that taught her how to trickle up, using men’s dicks a stepping stones?

When did she realize just how potent she was, how men like me would fall over backwards to please her, how we all craved her, and she could pick and choose to come up with someone who could please her best.

Is it cheating to get what you need when the one she’s with won’t give it to her, or is it just how it is.


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Big dicks rule

 

 

It is all about pleasing her, not yourself, and man with big dicks please her more than you ever will, and no matter how loyal she claims to be to you, the moment she sees a man with a dig, she goes for him.

This is a reality of life, big dicks rule, and the sooner you accept this as fact, the less you’ll agonize as to why you can’t get the girl you want.

You need to let her go to where the big dicks are. If you don’t, you’ll always be miserable, even when she is willing to give you a bit on the side.

Love doesn’t do it for her, can’t satisfy her in the way a big dick can, and you have to live with it, and let her get what she wants, and it may be the only way you can’t actually please her.

 

 


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Dancer in the sand May 31, 2024

 

I can no longer

Come here

And not think

Of you,

Dancing in the sand,

Around a may pole

Even though

It was November

Not may,

A nymph,

A sprite,

Born out of

The incoming waves

The need to move

In order to be moved,

To celebrate

A private moment

With private people

 In order to

Celebrate yourself,

The pole, the sand,

The waves,

All part of this

Ethereal dance

You are destined

To perform

As if dictated by

The gods, long ago,

Who foresaw this place

This time, and you,

And knew if I saw it

I could feel the pangs

Again

Of what once was,

What ceased to be,

What never was,

I can no longer come here

And be free of your spirit,

Layon on the white caps,

That crush against

The gray stones

And pale sand,

Your foot prints

There, then not there,

Replaced my mine

As I ache to follow.

 


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Sunday, May 31, 2026

I am a priest May 31 2026



I am a priest 

After all these years, I have become what nuns wanted, to be Beating me into submission with their rosary beads, making me ashamed back of my reactions like the one with that science teacher in junior high, a woman is provocatively dressed as a prostitute and I had to clutch my books in front of me to keep from showing my admiration, scared of it, stroking it away over and over for years, until I became castrated,unable to get a rise even with the bluest of movies or the most provocative of girls, then later denying myself to get back to what I had been in the past. Stirring Myself up inside, whipping myself into a frenzy till I boiled, making myself become with the nuns wanted, an inferno and now, without options, I am back, lacking any relief, a self torture that is sweet as it is sour, my head so filled with it I can think of nothing else, the priest with  unpriestly thoughts and a body that inflates like a balloon, rising and falling, waking me in the middle of night with an emergency I still refuse to relieve, I am priest the nuns always wanted to be, whipped and chained by my imagination 


Saturday, May 30, 2026

28 miles March 23, 2024

 


(poetry journal)

 


The sign said, 28 miles to Kingston.

We had not intended to come this far north, taking a trek along River Road that turned into 9W, following signs that said, “Bear Mountain.”

Only when we got there, we kept going, this long and winding thing, and then, we stopped at the sign saying “28 miles” because we had never intended to go there, not yet, not since I took my daughter there before COVID, seeking a bit of the East Village she could no longer find in NYC, we stopped and wet back, leaving the sign and its destination behind, for another time, for our annual overnight stay when we were better prepared to deal with the consequences, 28 miles turning into 30, then more as we made our way home.

 

 

   2024 journal menu 


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