i would take you in a tangle of our arms and legs
caress your breasts as we share our breath
nip your lips with my teeth
you on top with me underneath.
my lust i bequeath
can you feel my heat?
skin to skin as i slip slowly within
your maternal thighs that would make Venus cry in jealousy
while we breathlessly buck
my hands on your hips and arse
as we thrust and laugh at some saucy shared thoughts
throw you over onto all fours so i can taste your main course
as you swallow this horse 😉
that you’ve created with baited breath
and i nibble where your legs cleft
making you moan with my own in your mouth,
your tongue tickles as we joust;
should i pull out?
wet breasts and chest shimmer with sweat
as we lay in bed
our heartbeat slows to rest as we cuddle, content.
I have a feeling courage and fate are just best friends.
Without courage fate would be so boring. So much would be written differently in the book of destiny.
what will be, will be.
courage could be the hand of the soul that writes it’s own fate,
or maybe Courage and Fate could be enemies, with Courage constantly fighting on the frontline of our destiny.
Destiny is something that you cannot lose,
Destiny is not something you choose,
Destiny is exactly what will just be,
Destiny cannot be changed by a choice,
That choice is apart of your destiny.
sinner or saint,
freedom is as thin as a layer of paint.
we can try our best to test the notion
but Fate is the butler of life’s red potion.
Fate is as unknown as the bottom of the ocean
And it shall change in one swift motion
As long as we just keep hoping
That’s the ideal way for us to keep coping.
we can try as much as we like
and should; out of spite.
but nothing can be anything,
try as we might.
by VivaciousVision and myself, taken from comments on 92. Worry (new)
during the last hours of the final waxing moon of that decade.
less than a day from the fullness of it’s presence.
the gemini moon. as the sun ran with sagitarius.
these secret twins, am i allowed to change my mind?
this horse that wins, if fresh grass he finds.
the weighing scales say’d the same as the time on the wall in the maternity hall.
“those doctors told me that you would be backwards, i knew they were wrong”
if only you knew the truth, it doesn’t help nor sooth. let’s write a record in the insanity booth.
Last seasons murder
Is this seasons shoes,
It’s the life we lead &
The life we choose.
Wouldn’t it be nice if
We could change the rules,
For i fear we might be fools.
Outside a sigh brings me to my senses,
i open the door and look through the fencing,
Branches bending in the breeze
A squirrel barks before it screams
i wonder why it left the tree
i hear his friends call out his name
Even this meat-eater feels his pain.
At times like this it’s only right to rain,
And yet, the clouds refuse their gain.
My dog Floyd
is a good ol’ boy,
always does as i say
in his own little way.
my four legged friend.
may we meet again.
was it painful in the end?
i wonder where you are now
up in the sky or under this cloud
would you recognise me in a crowd?
the wheel of life, it carries on
memories of you, they still surge strong.
i didn’t know what i had till you were gone.
Floyd 1998-2010 May He Rest In Peace
Photography by myself.
i’m afraid of the man that i am
the beast inside just outta sight
during the day
during the night
half man half horse
with an invisible evil twin
that always stops me
before i begin
an oriental Ram is what i am
bounding from here to there
thinkin of the next
before finishin the last
how did i know that
that would be so hard
aint what i wanna be at all
but it is what i am
A Proffered Lamb
held up to the sky with a bleat and a cry
i don’t remember any genie sitting next to me
but he gave me what i wanted. yeah, times three
because i wanted an adventure to stop me being bored
so be careful what you wish for as the genie brought the law
i had an outstanding warrant against my name
well, that’s what they reckon but for once i wasn’t to blame
they took me to the station without reading me my rights
then chucked me in a cell, where i was to spend the night.
i woke at half five with the light up on the wall
craving a cigarette and a ‘phone call
but still my journey wasn’t yet done
i felt like i’d been kidnapped and we were on the run
’cause they put me on a bus with my own private cabin
nothing spectacular, just a Group4 wagon.
i’d never been in a sweatbox before and
it was kinda scary when they close the door.
maybe, who knows?
i could see the outside and my confidence rose!
so i scribbled my name on the windows and door
yea, i’d lost all respect for The Law.
i was dropped off in
where yet again, my confidence fell
but the stop was a short one, little did i know
that i would be put in another wagon ‘n’ back on the road.
i asked a screw if he could tell me the time
let’s call it half ten for the purpose of this rhyme
we soon (ha) reached Grantham, south lincolnshire
at five past one where it became all too clear
i would have to wait an hour while lunchtime was ‘ere.
i felt like the Hurricane, from the old Dylan song
he was prob’ly innocent as-well, & made to feel wronged.
anyway, lunch had finished so they sent me my brief
at least he was Duty and that meant free
but nothing’s been free in my lil life and
the words he did tell me; they cut like a knife
’cause nothing’s been free for this little hero
my chance to get home was near to zero
so i went in the courtroom and told them this story but
left out the Hurricane because that woulda been boring.
i pleaded my case tho’ they didn’t seem to care
they said i could Go after i “sign here”.
but where could i go with no coinage in sight?
then i remembered my smoke and found a light
the coppers were stupid, i had it on me all of the night
and all of the day, so now i had to find a way
to get on home soil, my legs they toiled
with long quick strides, my thumb out by my side
hoping for a ride
putting one foot in front of the other
one car passes, then another
(red lorry yellow lorry red lorry yellow lorry
repeat after me)
it was such a hot day on the dual carriageway.
no water to drink but plenny of time to think
the snake was long, seven miles (i wish it was only 7)
this was becoming a marathon trial.
then i spied a lorry in a layby
twenny-two wheels and none of them moving
i start to jog, before i lose him
i guess you heard of the gingerbread man
well that was me, man, runnin’ as fast as i can
i knock his door and look up to his mirror
i s’pose he sees a funny figure
my luck got better and he tells me to jump in
which i do with an almighty grin.
on the move we’re moving swiftly
the closest he can drop me is in Alconbury
that’s not too bad, but it’s still not the Black Cat
he offers his ‘phone, i oblige and call the boss
to say “don’t worry, i aint lost”
the driver Paul, yeah, he’s quite cool
he’s on his way to the Isle o Grain
more accurately Thamesford, then he’s going Bedford.
which sounds quite good but you gotta be careful
nowadays it’s easy to go missing without a trace.
he talks of 3M where he’s gonna spend the night
i tell him i work there, just on the right
he can drop me there, if i choose
what the hell, what have i got to lose?