Winter – Poem


It's Just One Aspect

WINTER

When first you entered the room

parchment face blushed and frozen red

I did not recognize the man

The hurried soul escaping bitter winds pain.

 

Your hands chapped and worn

masculine with talents beyond the keyboard

We would play music tonight.

 

I noticed your breath

As you removed your navy coat

button by button reveling

as slow as a burlesque striptease

what was to come.

 

How I would melt you

Cupping your face in my warm dark hands

blowing life into your mouth

with kisses and probing tongue.

 

Parchment turnstiles to peach

And peach to sweating red

Ink slicked across composition sheets

I warm your thighs entwined with mine.

Smooth arched shoulders dance,

My breast pressed beneath your heaving weight.

 

This would be the chest I would dream on tonight

After the winter breeze.

DIH 12/01/18

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Weary


WEARY

wrap your arm around my waist
pull me closer
tighter

I want flesh on flesh
to feel your smothness
rough hairs and sweat

slick

My thighs surround your hips
carnival of motion
hips circling
clenching
bending

Kiss me there
once 
never more than once

Hold that
let its heat warm your palm
its yours for the moment
a single moment

Bring me to my knees
massage my shoulders
never forceful
soft intent

Come in closer
faster
harder

arching my back
entwine my hair within you
lost in it's flow
turn me 
stroke my thigh

our tounges travel
explore
leave trails of damp salty lust

follow me lover
make me sore.

DIH 11/21/18

Give Me


Someone took my hand

Held it close to my chest

My heart quickened, jumped and purred

Curled into a corner

content

Here it is…

Long waited for and

Desired

Warm against my breast

Exposed

Soft

Smooth

Plump

The hand slowly brushed a nipple

Following the contours to my neck

Finger by finger

Fred Astaire swept my earlobe between each digit

A low deep moan from within

I let this hand brush auburn locks

And trail a flushed cheek

I’ll allow it

Succumb to it

These fingers

Now fall upon

their own two lips.

DIH

10/25/18

Moonlight Passion


Close your eyes, he said.

Open your mind and find me.

hear me.

taste me.

Here offers me

Passion

Offer it to me again

Tell me of its power and slickness

How it moves our bodies and entwines the soul

Bring me back

Bring me down

Show me touch and let me slide into your arms again

My tongue is your master and your fingers, my slave

Once again

Show me passion

Something I have never known

Someone I have yet to feel

Be my passionate lover

Hold me when I’m scared

Be my friend lying in the field and dancing in the rain.

Slick, smooth, tightly held

Is this the beginning of a movement of two hearts?

Simply grasp it, stroke and remember.

It’s a start.

Emptiness


When you wake up at 2am and your mind wants to review your life’s history fast forwards and all you want to do is sleep. Only the sadness and disappointment show through and you wonder, am I cursed? Cursed to live like this. Dream like this. Love like this. Be like this. Stealing lines from songs trying to pinpoint my emotionless void. I wonder more and more “Am I cursed?” Events through my life pursue me like a shadow falls from view as I pass. I try to shake them from my memory but the memories flow to fast. So I blank it out. Block it out. And sit here. Truly alone at 2 am.

DIH 15/18

My ex-best friend. Where r u?


SYMPATHETIC CHARACTER

I was afraid you’d hit me if I’d spoken up I was

Afraid of your physical strength I was afraid

You’d hit below the belt I was afraid of your

Sucker punch I was afraid of you reducing me

I was afraid of your alcohol breath I was afraid

Of your complete disregard for me I was afraid

Of your temper I was afraid of handles being

Flown off of I was afraid of holes being punched

Into walls I was afraid of your testosterone

I have as much rage as you have

I have as much pain as you do

I’ve lived as much hell as you have

And I’ve kept mine bubbling under for you

You were my best friend

You were my lover

You were my mentor

You were my brother

You were my partner

You were my teacher

You were my very own sympathetic character

I was afraid of verbal daggers I was afraid of the

Calm before the storm I was afraid for my own

Bones I was afraid of your seduction I was afraid

Of your coercion I was afraid of your rejection

I was afraid of your intimidation I was afraid of

Your punishment I was afraid of your icy silences

I was afraid of your volume I was afraid of your

Manipulation I was afraid of your explosions

I have as much rage as you have

I have as much pain as you do

I’ve lived as much hell as you have

And I’ve kept mine bubbling under for you

You were my keeper

You were my anchor

You were my family

You were my savior

And therein lay the issue

And therein lay the problem

Songwriters: Alanis Morissette

Sympathetic Character lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Silence


If your mouth moves too often Silence it

Chattering pigeons pecking words of nothing

Meaningless

Spiteful

Hurtful

Grant me silence

Endless still mouths without lips

No flashing crooked teeth biting air

Let me float on a cloud going nowhere

Alone with Little Prince escaping crowded rooms

Letters crashing like lies

Sentences explode muddled without you.

I just want SILENCE.

Little Prince and I

DIH 8/18

A subtle DM – 🖤💜


Saturn touches the earth

And I am moved with sweat

Seeing it so close must surely mean the end

The rings so brightly blinding me

As the thunder shakes my heart

Games

No fools here

You make my head swim

Float and drift

Lying safely on your image

Unknown reality

You must be drunk

Tricks and ego

Something different to do today

Ending the monotony

As Saturn lands on earth.

DIH

Been a little busy, in a good way!


I’ve been writing short stories about people with mental illness. Concentrating on characters who just happen to be ill and making them as identifiable as possible.

It’s important to me that these characters could be anybody. Not a stereotype or diagnoses, just a person going through a phase or situation.

My purpose is to help chip away at the stigma that is out there about those of us with BiPolar or Schizophrenia or depression and the list goes on…

I don’t want it to read like the PDA, but rather as a glimpse into someone’s life. There will be some triggering and tragic instances, but also some simple one. Which to a person without anxiety would be a simple task. But for those of us with anxiety, it’s a major undertaking.

There is a Writers’ Conference at Rutgers University I wish to attend. But money is an issue. When isn’t it when it comes to living on a very limited budget. I have to have the money for the conference and the money to get to and from the train. I’ll be taking a bus, to a train and then Lyft. Unless I can get enough to just take Lyft there and back, that would be heaven.

This is my mission and my dream. To get this book finished and attend this conference in June. Either way, I am writing this book.

The conference would put me in contact with publishers and fellow writers and give me a peek into what it takes to get your work out there. To find out if there is a market for my book or would I be creating one. I realize that I need to attend this conference in order to get a better understanding of what I intend to accomplish. In real terms and not just as a dream.

So, if you’re still reading. Please consider helping me attend this conference by clicking the link and hopefully contributing to my cause. Even if you don’t contribute a comment would be nice. We have to support each other and not be ashamed of who we are, and remember that our illness does not define us.

Thank You.

Donate to help me attend the conference, CLICK HERE.

Is it weakness


Second treatment for  bronchitis, I’ve been going through. Pills that you have to eat with and I don’t like eating 3 times a day. I try light meals, but need protein etc. to keep my stomach from hurting.

To think, all this weakness and phlegm and headaches and body ache. Are because I traveled to a high volume public area. I’ve been into the city and didn’t get this sick. Penn Station in NJ is a toxic farm. I saw roaches and it smelled and you didn’t really want to sit down. But I had a long wait. Somewhere in there and the train and the bus, I caught this shit.

I was exhausted and in massive pain, after I got home. Made me wonder about all the traveling I use to do without incident. And how now I feel so weak and old and I’m not even fifty yet.

I’ve got to crawl back into bed.