I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. I am also into writing poetry. Come along for the ride.

adults only

writing words & Her


Oh I do on occasion confuse,

the true meaning of love,

it is when in an intellectual storm,

I sometimes forget,

or perhaps I choose,

while deep inside my mind,

I know the answer manifests itself as a want.

 

I want to seduce her,

I want to have her gasp at my touch,

I want to teach her how to let go and journey beyond

I want her to love me,

in the same manner I wish to always love her.

 

Then later, after the travel, the explosive gathering of storm,

when feeling the shelter of her center,

the beauty is grace in the arms of her sweet passion,

then later,

when I do recall the words,

I know she might wonder about

seduction.

 

Is it a ploy, or a necessary piece of the whole,

where does elegance come into play,

when the ultimate goal is to bring distinct pleasure

into her life,

into her being,

into the reason she might wish to breathe, to feel, to respond.

 

When do the words seem enough.


In Such A Low


my mother would reference this place,

a sort of mental ravine,

her heart might nearly stop,

eyes would glaze?

blood flow in her feigns might suddenly,

spill into one pool of spun lethargy.

This was not a place

she liked to be,

she’d often howl at the nature

of love and all it’s failings.

 

yet, she never discovered a solution?

only knew when inside?

not a lesser degree of pain

could ever exist.

 

where my mother was always never to pull the plug,

I might decide otherwise,

though my freedom would be sought?

there leaves a ring of memory,

clinging to everyone’s personal psyche.


Poodle Skirt Afternoons


It certainly is a fantasy,

every man’s dream,

well perhaps,

it is the notion of a certain elegance

hidden to a glance,

a pretty chance,

play with the irresistible nature of desire,

that lust, that splendid piece of …

 

Oh the liberties of the mind when will she sashay

past my way, past my day, upon my

sweet, sassy, display.

 

We all have our favorites,

the nature of a hot summer’s day,

a melody to rock the mind,

the sights of spring moving toward autumn,

we only have this short window

to appreciate the simple beauty of woman,

without the strain,

beyond the compromising fallacy of control,

can we only love,

be able to share our energy together,

to appreciate our most basic need,

the lovely reality of sensuality beyond objectivity.

 

Oh the liberties of the mind when will she sashay

past my way, past my day, upon my

sweet, sassy, display.

 

How I do often wish to know,

just the very chance of understanding purpose,

recognizing innocence in the natural

surrounding of man and woman

in the throes of passion.

We are a simple lot of ignorance,

so often lost in the rapture of an enticement,

we forget quite easily an element of integrity,

which when let go, the ties loosened,

will surely unravel the most chivalrous intent.

 

Oh the liberties of the mind when will she sashay

past my way, past my day, upon my

sweet, sassy, display.

 

Is it remarkable an instance can change my day?

I would hope it might always be this way.


Sensual Shroud


There is a privacy,

in knowing,

a certain delicious manner,

we know,

when in our quiet moment,

our eyes do glaze in realizing passion,

in recreating a pleasure,

a certain abundant nature of reaching.

 

We do reach when we are together,

gives me her center,

I would search forever,

to find a way to bring delicious pleasure,

to a moment when eyes closed,

the world drifts in private assurances.

 

Yes, let’s take chances,

so that your lips will find mine,

eyes tear in unison,

we do know …

oh to understand there is more,

always the year remains,

to touch, feel, breathe, to count upon,

having your heart in my hands,

to each, we seek in privacy,

the elegance of soul.


Sweet Imagery


I do recall
waking to you,
sweet eyes, wanting
my hands to begin again,
sending white linens aside,
to feel skin alive,
running from shoulder along
shuddering nape of neck,
where now my lips follow their lead,
to find you first, a gasp,
to find you again, an utterance,
and then return and recall and find again,
and slippery now your passion pulls my hair
toward your center.
I’m teasing though because I want you to yearn,
I was on the dark side of your dream,
only wanting to awaken delicious fantasy,
and while you do I feel myself rise
against the linens below me,
I’m far away from your reach,
because right now
while I make my way inside your thighs…
I want your hands to reach, to find, to grasp,
linens, headboard, and yes, breasts,
as my hungry mind,
tastes your beauty


Silent Imaginings


I would if only I might,

play out the fantasy this night,

of when we were one in motion,

in caught up dreams, vivid emotion.

Soft shoulders and knowing gasps,

when lips cover ground, silken tease,

to reach the depths of arousal,

would my desire depend on your fire.

Oh to know the moment when

we might again cross paths,

the sort that mingle inside a dreamscape

where the world around disappears.

Inside that privacy exists your reach,

oh that place where my eyes do seek.

In the quiet of night, I do imagine beauty,

in tears, in soft moan, in eternally yours.


Why Do Men Love?


red

I can only speak of experience,

of which I’ve been often confused,

wondering if it were resilience,

or a strong desire to not be refused.

I would venture to imagine today

every woman I’ve known in my life,

has been inspirational in a way,

teaching me that advantage is rife.

 

Oh there were the young first loves

the sort had me by the balls feeling fear,

wondering how to control silly doves,

winged melodic sounds could bring tear.

 

And the search was on for a lonely man

to find the beauty, elegance, a want to relate,

ah the physicality of passion then so ran

the gamut upon defining a true soul-mate.

 

When while the life of man becomes real

the ideal, the beauty of her grace sing elegance

we did in time recognize the love surreal

of her, that sweet demeanor is reality’s chance.

 

Oh I have experienced sweetness, shadows above

Do suggest, her sensuality true, the one I do love

*Great Inspire photography