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PMc Jul 2019
WOMAN SPEAK

Loud, raucous, at times rude
she makes fun of me in front of my friends
noting how I root for the wrong team,
can’t remember people’s names,
other earth shattering idiosyncrasies,
obviously annoying
buddies ask – why bother

     Sunday morning, my friend
     when sun pours through lace by the barrel
     listen to her breathe, watch her ******* up and down
     now taste ******’s milk,
     listen to her whisper ***** words into my ear

Lousy at fighting, two topics simultaneously
she dares me to leave, hit her, whatever.
Spitting at me through tones reserved to discipline
an eight year old,
screaming how much I am wrong, why I can’t get my **** together,
the boiling point of near-hatred surpassed
and I consider departure

     Recalling lips parted kissing me here
     yes-and there, her astride
     the pumping madman within me deep within her
     pleasure almost painful, joyous to recite
     sweat pouring down our faces
     another Friday night alone

We roll our bodies laden in massage oil with stinking passion
She rolls over – sighs - lights a smoke – exhausted – dreams

     The only time she ever shuts up.
I will apologize in advance for those who search for, and find the misogyny through this.  Based on a true story.
PMc May 2019
I’ve felt a love that shatters my
inner soul.

To lead the rest of my life inside
your sanity,
would be, to end a relationship with
the me I have come to know.

Leave the nuances and bits
of trivia.
I can introduce you to the meaning,
and the spirit of being ALIVE!

A spirit undone as you enter a truly
imaginary / reality.

A world where fantasies are created
by what you see & touch & feel
within the marrow
of your
inner soul
Wow - found this in a box from some fourty years ago.  I don't remember for whom it was written.  I do know that I've lived long enough to experience this all over again.
PMc May 2019
At the risk of overdoing it, I find myself thinking about you again
Summers are gone, and as days fly by
soft evenings, curtains drawn
won’t give way to fireplace warmth
time and distance are the nare-sayer yet again.

At the risk of losing my sanity, I find a quiet coffee corner that hasn’t given way to gas station convenience.
The wifi-lessness forces pen to page in hopes of finding
the inner me to reach out
to upper you, when headspace gives way to life-changing, life-long decisions
about the kids, the car, the commute, the kitchen cupboards, the commitment
the chaos

At the risk of underdoing it, you plan with military precision every last detail of your move
Each fateful false move joined and re-joined
as you would lose puzzle pieces

At the risk of losing it all, you won’t have the time to work on a proverbial “we”
There is no “we” to re-join
so it can’t be overdone
you deny the “we” never was.

At the risk of losing what might be “we” entirely, my pen and paper dictate that
now is not the time to pursue such matters,
whatever “we” is or will be, will have to wait

as will your puzzle.
PMc May 2019
There’s no point in trying to become
the best umpire that ever lived.
There’s always someone who’s gonna’ call your game otherwise
no matter how well you play that day, or any other

There’s the time spent practicing with little tykes,
triple A, Grapefruit Leagues and more practice,
there’s never any respite for those who are right
only someone else to refute your best judgement.

There’s no right/wrong regarding calls, strikes/*****
it’s Olympic swimming, diving, ice skating,
subjective.
There’s no life like it, ‘cept maybe the Army

Betting of all sorts, you know not where or when
you just know it’s going on somewhere with somebody/somewise.
There’s no accounting for mans indiscretion to sport
nor the improprieties of professional sport/entertainment.

There’s no telling if you’re gonna’ call good or bad games
or if your kindness or mean streak will exude on any given day
There’s no telling if you’ll make or break at one call or another.

No telling if your taxi will drive or stop
while you’re in a cab
There’s no telling if it’s your time or not
to face the lost angel of death…or not
   it will happen
   in the taxi on the street
   or the garden you’re tending
   the house league diamond
   or the major league ball park
   it will happen
   but there’s no telling……
   when
1 April 1996, opening day at Riverfront Stadium (Cincinnati, OH), John McSherry, the National League home plate umpire collapsed and died of a massive heart attack right there in front of fifty thousand people at the game and more watching on television.  A different day and time and the cardiac arrest might have happened in the taxi on the way to the game - or in his hotel room that night - or wherever.   The mightiest of all messengers has an unusual sense of timing.
PMc May 2019
Beware our first kiss
that uncrossed line of
once done is done
ours will not be a tickled fancy
nor plain nor incidental

First kiss will come from deep within our souls
where desire has slept for months,

Our ****** lip-lock longing
with the torrent of rivers Teslin and Yukon merging
the craving colours change from soft navy blue, shadows of olive
to stark aqua marine, glowing brilliant teal
seen through eyes closed, the witness of deep arousal
from deep within

Mouth water poaches an intensity, hearts race, we forget to breathe
teeth gnarl one another in a **** or flight instinct
towers of oral energy cascade through a single line of longing
faces twisting right and left in attempts to find suitable alignment
not caring when they don’t
nothing else matters
when uncrossed lines are crossed

Beware the first kiss
once
    there is no turning back
let go the vertigo, we will hold one another
while tearing our tongues into one another’s souls
push deeper with all passion’s purpose

this once
will be
      – just once
There is an oft-crossed line between partners when the decision whether or not to kiss either should - or must - be made.  Once crossed / what's done it done.
PMc Apr 2019
I am powerfully drawn toward and yet must remain cautions
one false word out of context is ruination
of my career, my life
wrong word – bad time – didn’t mean it
out of context - will all add up

I am weary and need to be held
2019 social media kangaroo-court will tag me
an “inappropriate predator”
my physical person has need that cannot be
expressed as or when I want

I am lost in spirit hoping to find some direction
time was when I could free-spirit my way
through just about anything
my years have found me, I recognize my own shadow,
the spirit has since left

I am torn between heart and head
strong enough in both as in body with rational ability
to decide between the two
knowing that one decision will have consequences
for the other - and others

I am alone with my thoughts undecided
your hair bundled to one side an invitation to caress,
converse and be loved
yet I want no part of my bad things happening
to your good people
Attraction of any kind can have downside.  Not that bad things are happening to people but I knew that if action was taken / not taken and either us were to "act on our feelings", consequences would ensue.
PMc Apr 2019
Those who study deep human relationships
understand that therapists - Buscaglia and the like,
have advice that,
when heeded
can ease the pain of our life’s loves.

They are apt to tout the benefits of
“writing down the top ten reasons why you love that person”
“and when the going gets rough, read the list”
yadda – yadda
More stuff like
“you can’t love people the same - all the time, people change”
blah – blah -blah
“Remember to laugh and enjoy each other”
and so on and so on
ad nauseum

Rules were made to be broken
so when the going gets tough, pull out
“the twenty reasons why you should get the hell out of the relationship”
Then when the going gets tough
you can retreat gracefully
knowing you “did the right thing”

It is because you cannont love people the same way – all the time
due to the complexities of human nature
and for when they turn their back on you,
you get stood up and they
tear-away the tears from your eyes,
swill their double scotch and
walk away

Somehow, a prescription for laughter’s medicine
doesn’t quite cut it.

So re-read your happy list when your together to remind yourself
of all you’ll miss when you’re alone
on New Years Eve
or spending another Birthday quietly celebrating by yourself

When tending to your garden with your own tears
     you can shred that happy list
     then use it for compost
Ouch - an admittedly angry phase from decades ago when all there was left to say was - well - whatever.  I don't recall it being a happy time.
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