Why Are You Sittin’ Way Over There?

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Why are you sittin’ way over there?

C’mere, let’s have a lovin’ tussle

Slide across this ol’ bench seat

Time you felt some American muscle

Cruisin’ at over their speed limits

Where to? We’ll be there in a snap

Hike your skirt up a little more, girl

Why not, crawl over here to my lap

You won’t be needing these panties

And if I might tell you the truth

I merely wish to taste your sweetness

To drink endlessly of your Fountain of Youth

College Magnetic Poetry Vol. 1

I eat her peach, like it was a screaming bed
Rob lathered her pink butt, like I said
She urges me to lick the bare breasts, or no head
They want the mist under the dress, and she is red
I cry, but think those rose petals are like a knife
My woman moans as we fall with spring through life
Smell sweet honey like a purple forest o’ eggs
He sees my finger smear next to the smooth hot leg
Watching two girls waxin’ & milkin’ without you
The gorgeous goddess needs his languid tongue to be true
Deliriously drunk & a repulsive moment recalls an ugly day
I felt the beauty whispering lust, wanting to play
Sweat leaves my apparatus juicy and shiny, always beating it away
Frantic spray floods the luscious garden from behind
Trying to swim beneath a language o’ an elaborate mind
Winter crushes drool over lovely eyes
On top, producing no sleep as we lie
Together, eternity is an essential chain
Manipulating me through bitter rain
Mothers can ask to stop, but still get to blow
I pound your fluff and then must go
Getting shot in some hair is easy when you are not above
Shadows o’ their enormous size is what you vision and love

Circa 1998

*Author’s Note: I feel I should explain this mess. It was written in college on a buddy’s fridge with the non-x-rated magnetic poetry. It is horribly juvenile and I love it all the more for that reason.

A Lady Upon The Figurehead

A  lady upon the figurehead
Standing proud in the breeze
Calling to the Sirens & wenches
Knowing the truth of these seas
Her beauty remaining firm & intact
The ship around her orange with rust
The sailors with splinters in their palms
For she has a wooden bust

Sometimes I’m An Awkward Lover

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Sometimes I’m an awkward lover

I try to slap your ass & pull your hair

But I don’t always have confidence

But I’m doing my very best down there

But I can promise you one thing, dear

I will love you and only you forevermore

I may be a gentleman at public events

But I’ll be your pirate behind locked doors

Reading The Braille Edition Of A Topless Sextant

 

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Reading the Braille edition of a topless sextant
Borderland sailors lost again above the tree line
Vicious handwriting left you pretty & potent
Dainty cherries plucked from Guerneville’s vine
Coffeehouse grunge wiped clean in your hands
Uninitiated lives failing to stand so fast & sure
Entitlements marked against your vacant lands
Discarded notes burned to return fresh & pure
Mermaids & alehouses swollen in a vamp rain
Self-imposed heartbreak mistaken for the blues
Trying to remember names of those who remain
Cautiously awaiting your new high-heeled muse
Writing a memoir regarding a nurse he skirted
Astral units left you with dingy change to spare
Noting the good stock with which she flirted
Winning the hearts, but the minds did not care
All your dreams left tied to the evening bedpost
Those rosy cheeks, offering you up a silent peek
Locked her in the room, staying white as a ghost
Mocking all the love & affection you still seek
Fingers toy with the scarf tied around her waist
The bard’s meaning left bewildering & obscured
Untied & left it hanging, waiting for your taste
Knowing your future holds your heart immured
Dedicated your words to the love of a woman
Sailing away from her, wiping away your tears
Too many free nights with the dark star to damn
Return trip bound by the change of distant years
Pressed into servicing you under the water tower
Releasing me to retreat & now be fallen asunder
Bathed atop the crow’s nest in a summer shower
Her loose dress allowed an easy chance to plunder
Busted in a brothel by shipmates on shore patrol
Her liberty cuffs showing us a full view of the bay
Wharf rats continuing down the hill out of control
Your Elizabethan Towers blocking the dreary day
Frayed hair in a yellowish hue flowing out & over
Dry rot found along our real estate, but I digressed
That Golden Gate shadowing my four-leaf clover
I’m lucky enough to find you had freshly undressed
Pirates full of malarkey & rum out in the shipyards
It was rot gut that ruined me & not rotten planks
He returned to port to find her old life now charred
Rising sun shines upon new beauty & I give thanks

I’m Not Trying To Change The World

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I’m not trying to change the world
I mean to merely paint some beauty
I don’t want an androgynous woman
I want a true lady to challenge me
To take me out of my comfort zones
To love me even when I’m senile
I desire a passion to overtake my breath
To die with an erection & a smile

The Value Of Beauty

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The value of beauty is in the eye of the beholder
The actual worth is whatever we think it’s
We gush & praise those we arbitrarily favor
We adorn with strands of pearls & diamond trinkets
There’s no basis for anything upon these axioms
Our hearts shape opinion without logical reason
But to divorce yourself from these passions,
Is to condemn your soul to unforgivable treason

Delving Between The Consciousness Of My Girl

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Delving between the consciousness of my girl
The humble dreams of a beauty so flaxen
The visions of hairless whispers, no more than a swirl
I need her to un-break my heart, like Toni Braxton
Catching a fading glimpse within my forlorn squint
A fragile existence filtered down and disseminated unto
Ecstasy on Earth, but only for a momentary stint
I wake suddenly, sweating, in only my Superhero Underoos