I have a secret pastime
more an idle, sometime whim,
to kiss with deep intensity
someone who isn’t “him”.

Now, a kiss may be a little thing
I’m not talkin’ with a guy
but within the lips and tongue of one
who’s double X, not X and Y.

I don’t seek all Sapphic pleasures
though adore the light diversion
of seeking out a lady
to satiate my sweet *******.

Within her scented aura
as her lips begin to part
and our fingertips entwine
sends a flutter from my heart.

The flutter blooms within my breast
as my stomach flips and ties
a satin bow within me
when I look into her eyes.

Two girls, pressed together,
generate a special fusion
gentle, warming wetness
a red lipstick collusion.

Our slipping mouths well watered
her hands within my hair
my arms about her yielding waist
a fleeting love affair.

A tableaux of our queenly ***
lost in transitory joy
of mutual female adoration
momentarily sans boy.

Vive la difference!
Contrast, in everything I do,
the slide of long French kisses
I’d sure enjoy the taste of you!

Ladies, I encourage you
seek out a willing playmate
forget all sexuality
and bend a little on the straight.

Who wants to travel through their life
without succumbing to the wine
of all those luscious, juicy girls
who want to mix their juice with mine?

I think of it as simple fun
no rules or lifestyle choices.
When I scent that perfume on her neck
desire flames, rejoices!

So, embrace the little pleasures
as your path of life unfurls
come on, get close, and pucker up
‘cos I love kissing girls!

there is another world
we're often unaware exits
and the only time
our minds will open up
and let us see
is when we're dreaming

it consists of rules
and plans
we're unfamiliar with

the customs both confuse us
and make us want for more

there are parallel selves
to every one of us living there
and each time we visit,
we discover something more

the places that I've seen
in all my dreams
are filled with fragments
of universes
multiplied so many times
I cannot count them

but there are bits of beauty I steal from every one of them
and I take what I can get
leftover from you
when your dreams aren't remembered

Sometimes
all you can do
with a broken heart
is close it up
for repairs
hoping to
to reopen it
later, shinier.

when god heard Lennon sing "Imagine,"
it/he/she filed a complaint
with the Human Rights Commissions,
a grievous hurt claimed,
needing omission,
hurtful words, the spirit opined,
his repute, civlly defamed

a direct attack on his divine permissioning
and though his unverifiable existence,
a poor excuse for such a
sid vicious exercise
re his persistence,
he needed humans

the song to excise,
punishment suitable be arranged,
to assuage his hurted feelings,
canons of political correctness
demanded it be whiteout erased
as if history did not matter,
those visible  tracks of his trade

no atheist or agnostic here,
having had too many disputations,
face to face confrontations,
about the damnable ironic games
It plays upon "his" human dolls,
by this manic~depressive curmudgeon,
from up above & his vapored flighty humors,
sans rationality,
for god was supplied with omnipotence
but too minuscule an impotent allotment
of the untold power of the
sensibility of the five mortal sensible senses,
the all-in reasons or rhymes,
the electric grid
making humans superior, the ability

to imagine

Imagine a power
so wonderful,
an all-in everything

I am God of myself,
when I imagine

Imagine I wrote this


and then,
         I did

imagined that your crinkly eyes laughed
when your read this,

and then,
         you did.


imagine that

Rough ,Wet, Make it hurt
Sore in the morning
No time to flirt
No love, no whispers
Not even a kiss
Like animals, Mechanical
Tasting this
Bruises, teeth marks,
hickeys, thirst
*******, licking, Harder, grinding
The spot, Almost
Screaming, finding
Spasm, tightening
******, blinding