Variations On Emotional Suicide, the new release from on the book to buy it today!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

cereal mayhem

epidermis raw~
a nightingale hums a melancholy
while steel kisses flesh
in a demented dance
of frenzy.
hurry...they must not know.
a sordid
released to prowl the atmosphere.
chains gone,
desire heightened,
hunger ravenous.
type B flows like a river wild~
undulating its way
from the precision induced
which incite panic
in granny smith.
a sordid smile sneaks
across filthy canines
as lucid images of torture
once is never enough...
a climax
embalmed with the stench
of yesterdays souls,
seeks rebirth.
parched brain cells
call out,
with gaping wounds,
at a new twilight
filled with endless possibilities.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

the afterglow

she always said it...
there was a hint of disbelief,
each time he wandered
back into her life
and crawled into her skin.
counting the days seemed sheer torture
for miss nymph.
nail biting,gin and juice.
the time was passed in increments
which dragged on
until his arrival.
she would inhale the musky
highlights of his manhood,
lay down on egyptian spun
300 count~
let him watch as she opened the doors
to paradise.
he would look inside her soul
and then into her eyes
as she embraced the tiny death
that cascaded over her.
her creamy thighs
would go sky high
while he dined on a sticky appetizer.
the incredible lightness
embraced her mind as he tasted
the on coming denial of victorian
this was always the moment she longed for~
back arched,his tongue
riding the curves of her spine.
and that feeling...
the inexplicable jolt
of giddiness that surrounded her heart
as he filled the depths of her desire
with his spirit.
...this time she let go.
make sure he saw what she felt.
so as he walked away,
the neighbor child's party
provided the truth.
"this is what you do to me"
she whispered.
he smiled and walked away.
he would be back by the time she came down.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

diamonds are a guys best friend

she left me...
packed her bags
and left a note
telling me
that there was no way
she would play
...but she always knew
it was a love thang.
the way you waltz
into my life each year,
our nightly meetings
under the stars.
she even asked if you had
made me gay.
all the sweaty men~
i told her i used to catch.
she saw you as a threat,
no matter how i explained
my lust for your arrival.
the trumpet sounds
and my mouth longs
for your familiar tastes~
salty nuts,pink cotton heaven,
elongated dogs
between soft buns.
the way you make me stare
at balls.
she left me...
but you will always
be my summer madness.
she said this was my third strike.
...i'll give you four balls

Sunday, April 3, 2011


do you see me as i see you?
the external persuasion
for a lower invasion
which brands my mind
with the candy coated desire
of you.
the outlines of your sexuality
tenderly tease
the framework of my psyche.
clandestine thoughts
of a private shoot,
tracing the curves
of your vanilla
as heavenly moans erupt
in fragrant melodies~
sending my want on an insurmountable
professionalism has lost its allure,
replaced by the tick tock
beating of lust through my veins.
quietly striking a chord so deep.
an intoxicating encantadora,
luring me to the depths of sinful delights.
can you feel the warmth of my fantasy
calling out to you as an ear worm?
over and over until you acknowledge
its fire.
one roll is spent
and i quickly reload