an itch in your shoulders
that you cannot scratch
you try to ignore it
but it demands
to be heard

I like my simple way of writing
It represents who I am
And who I sometimes want to be
I like the way I think, I’ve found a certain freedom in it
But that freedom exists nowhere else
Not in any ***** nor sinew nor bone
Django is a free slave.
Too long I’ve been feeling like a trail gone cold
Pull me by the back of my throat, rest in the bed of my bones
And call me home
Because I’m lost, and maybe I just want to be found.
- Kata

I was seduced by your tongue.
From the menu in it's ripe pink
bequeathed with syllables
of toxic waste pronounced;
production rivaling the healthiest liver
in this materialistic marketplace.

Still it is a delicate decadence
not for the faint-heart by recommendation
can only be served in it's ****** state
never preserved with age nor maturity
for it's zest for life can never be tainted
even when cooked
it still wags on and on....
churning more poison.

I placed my order
may the best man win,
I was not a coward.
Bon appetite.

I’ve been craving female companionship as of late. The need to have her in my presence at all times. I want her, face against the wall with joyfully erratic breathing, hands tied behind her back. I want her on all fours, head swivelled my direction with a smiling look of pleasure. I want her legs wide open for me, only because it’s me, only because it’s her. I want my tongue to make musical instruments of her ******* and *******. I want her to put me in her mouth so I can see her eyes tearing with shameless sin. I want her in her parents’ bedroom, I want her in tut rooms and auditoriums, I want her in the back of my car, in McDonalds, in elevators, under restaurant tables and on top of kitchen counters, I want her to say my name under soft moans during rough rounds. I want her in as savage a manner as possible.

I want her sitting in silence with me. I want her to listen to my ramblings, to sit there and be present. To exist. I want her to have her own ramblings, to educate me. I want her lips to be available for me at all times, for my head to make pillows of her chest. I want to introduce her to Ben Howard and Tom Misch, to Planet Hulk and The Pixar Theory. I want flowers to remind me of her. I want her to cradle me when Chelsea loses, to stroke her hair and rub her tummy when she has monstrous cramps. I want to hear ‘I love you’ over loud laughs between soft kisses. I want her on butterfly wings. I don’t know who she is, but dear God I want her to laugh, because I know I’m going to love her laugh.

I want so much from her, I want her to want so much from me. I want so much that I never wanted before. Only thing I’ve been wanting was to feel again, now I need to feel again in order to get what I want. I want her. I want more than me.

I’ve been feeling a certain emptiness
I feel like I’m not enough
I’m not enough to make myself as happy as I want to be.
I feel like there is nothing more I can do for myself.
For so long, I’ve been happy because all I’ve wanted, I’ve given myself
Or I’ve taken, but
I don’t satisfy myself anymore,
And I can’t take what I now want.
I think, for the first time in a long time, I feel lonely.
- Kata

I am constantly misread.
By the way I speak,
The words I write,
And the actions I do.
Everything is analyzed in such a way, today
That there is no way around it.
We are criticized,
Yelled at,
Belittled,
Because of words we did not say.
But for the interpretations people take from our
Words we speak,
Words we write,
And actions we do.
Life was simple back then
When I wasn’t constantly misread.

Standing
Innumerable
Shining
Written in light
Like living hymns
All for His glory.

Cj 20170106

Words help us move on over to the other side....
sometimes a whole lot quicker...
helping us to see where we have been …
to see where we want to move on to....
and where we never want to return..


CJ   2016