Suicide, Suicide be my guide.
Show me if its time.
In my room.
These retched cries.
Hear me scream, hear me cry.
My thoughts that torture me.
The ones I hide.
Tattooed on my arms.
The scars of a thousand knives.
My tears have finally run dry.
As I cry, on this silent night.
Suicide, Suicide. be my guide.
Show me if its time.
To stay or to die.

In Hell’s wake,
all is right,
and God is blessed
with all delight.

It should it be known,
that all is right,
when Heaven and Hell always fights.

So hell is ******,
while Heaven shines bright,
so Hell is buried,
with all delight.

--------------------------
Peter A. Murnieks
March 17, 2007
*Inspired by the movie: Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (2001)

I want to be you're secret Santa
sliding down your stockings
as tall as Arregon
not fat and stout as Gimerly

I am the patter of flighty wings
still flapping as you return
and the gifts that you bring
means more then my being

For I am your servant
climbing into your bed
just for a hug
for I am just a kitten

I would be your lord of the rings
never never naughty
just a boy that needs a toy
to tweak hot lords of the rings

Let me be you're Hobbit
for you need not shave
for Under Hill
it is all the rave

Come to my warren
come to my keep
and after loving
may sweet hobbit s sleep


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)

Would you tell me how you feel

Would you touch me and be real

Would you move your hand below

Would you move it nice and slow



Would you go down and lick

Would you let your tongue flick

Would you swallow it whole

Would you taste it flow



Would you want to be on top

Would you move and never stop

Would you feel me deep inside

Would you let me come and slide



Would you want us to overload

Would you allow me to explode

Would you let me stay in there

Would you, would you dare

God fearing, holding her cross close,
Three settings;
                     Heaven,
                                Limbo,
                                         I'm going to hell.
Choosing that more times than most.

Lazily I sit naked on my favorite  carved antique chair,
by the writing table, fully immersed  in Kamsutra zen,
the randy one barges in, with a smile,euphemistically reprimands:
"Man, have a heart, your ****** is being unfairly wasted again"

She waited eagerly for the
wrapper to fall off, and then
it was slowly inserted pleasurably
it was taken back.

Moaning in sugary ecstasy she
breathed heavier as she gorged on it.
All that was seen was the stick and
her lips seeped sugary delight.

She pulsated with eagerness as it
was ****** deeper within and then
playfully edged around her damp lips,
she was fulfilled and the stick clean.

"Now here is a thought that itches at the brain,
*"Which lips did she devour this lollipop in,