Whimpering, And Gone

If it’s all the same

And time was standing…

Alone, and not moving

And my fingers were pressing the flame

Intertwined and demanding

My flesh: needing…grooving

I can make the believe

See it with the eye in my mind

Pirouetting all of the in-betweens

But differently I do perceive

What has been outlined

The decree, the artificial machines

With love and grace

With each line on my face

With memories I can’t ever erase

Oh life! Such a sweet and bitter race

And all I long for is to be in that place

Whimpering, and gone without trace

Am I Your Dream

Am I your dream?
Truly, did you wish for me?
Did I appear as promised?
Your very own big cocked genie?
Am I your dream?
All for which you begged?
Giver of wanton wishes?
From cunt to pretty lil head?
Am I your dream?
Facilitating lust?
Am I your truest blessing?
Or a sex addicting curse?

Imagine The Possibilities

I guess I’m a little broken,
But I suppose you are too.
Imagine the possibilities,
What two imperfectionistas could do?
We look at the world differently,
Our perspectives perfectly skewed.
Seeing what the right in the world,
Couldn’t because that’s what they choose.
I guess we’re a little different,
Unique, but a pair, one not two.
And we’ll live in a world of make believe,
Making imagination come querkely true.

Real/Art

The art we make,
It’s real not fake,
Not ever imagination.

Never created for a lens,
No cash changing hands,
True love’s divine resurrection.

Forever, our souls,
These poems have told,
What our true meaning is.

Here, in heart’s support,
In concert, our rapport.
Until the next time we can kiss.