Category: my original poems



What if your penis could talk?

Or ladies, your vagina?

I can only speak to it, the penis;
So lets stick to the penis because,
We are full of double entendre now;
I know more about the former anatomy.

Guys, would your penis tell all the tales
Of the tails that you put it through?
What would it say?
Would it stick it to you?
Would it betray your manhood?

If your “wood” could gentleman,
Would it say why it stiffens in the middle of the night,
When nature calls?
And of its relationship to your balls?
The so-called, “family jewels”.
Or how COME it acts UP,
Without a female nearby?

If your penis could talk,
Would it explain those teenage wet dreams?
Or would it allow for a better elderly stream?
Suppose your dick could dictate?

If your dick could think quick,
Would he chronicle all the lays you gave him?
The tunnels of love you made him enter?
No toll necessary but the pleasure of the flesh..
Would he be like “Dick Tracy”,
Investigating the vagina chronicles?

If your penis could talk, when hard;
Would he allow you to walk the walk?
What would the “wood” say about Viagra or cocaine?
Would he want to go “See Alice”?

If Your Penis could talk,
He would likely laugh at erecting “over four hours damage”
Come-on, he can last much longer!
If the woman is sexy and fine!

If your Magic Johnson could speak,
He would be concerned about Lorena Bobbit!
Are they even still together?
Yes, unfortunately and likely in some trailer park,
Chopping meat.

If you named him “Jack Meoff”,
Would your penis explain how you are now a private “southpaw”?
Or all of the times it gave you a hard time for no reason?
Like when you have no companion next to you in the bed?

What would your penis say if it could talk from its tiny mouth?
Would he remember and reveal if you ever contracted an STD?
Or if you enjoy masturbation too much?
Would it brag as a slender, thick or a curved dick?

As you can see, this debate has many angles.
Including the calculation of the dangle;
From forty-five to a sturdy ninety silk degrees;
A silent partner in a three-way love affair,
Who you want to treat right,
Not just beat it.

Couldn’t help the analogy, lol!

Send your opinions! Thank you for reading my poetry.

Kissing a Kia was a nice ride,
A Pelvic glide;
Not a fender-bender no.
I drove a Pontiac at that time;
Then a Mustang.
She once wore horizontal back and white stripes,
We would make out sometime in my car.

Kissing Kia;
So how did that start?
Must have been those copious love letters,
Which I still find when looking for something else;
She penned them while in her high school classes.
Giving her a lift home,
Keeping her border secret
Impressed by my loyalty I guess,
Similarly needing a true friend was I,
She was not a drive-by.

Kissing Kia,
Coming, or better put,
Stopping-by my Counselor office,
Pulling me near in an embrace,
Very sexy she and I couldn’t avoid that face.
Well put-together by the love God Venus,
Body belied her age or another from the assembly line;
It was all I could muster not to think with my penis.

Kissing Kia,
How I wanted to hook-up,
Yet I couldn’t as I was thirty-something
While like the old Sam Cooke Song,
“She Was Only Sixteen…”
Only half of those lyrics applied;
She was one smart cookie,
An intelligent older man drawn
While unsung will sensibly realize.

Kissing Kia was not fake.
Had she bragged to a friend however,
Would have been a Daily News headline cover,
I did not want to make.
Though her tender, well-built body
I yearned to take.

Kissing Kia drove to express her desires,
In no uncertain terms;
More mature than many ladies my own age,
And those guys of her generation;
Her flirtation taught me an important unknown page.
Why so blessed was I with this decision test?

Kissing Kia,
Upon a time of the whip-appeal era,
She is still Babyface alright with me.
A Kia with an Optima Sportage Soul,
French-kissingly Nero Forte,
Mashina I would still love to drive.

Kissing Kia
During period change in my office,
All the way lovingly Kool;
Love you you fool!
Wanted to mount that vernon.

Kissing Kia
As years pass,
Both much older.
Never forgetting those boobs nor that tight ass;
Our Fantasy Island unfulfilled.
Yet so long as we live,
None but us know which embers of
Burning passion lasts.

 

On-shore intentional,
(prayer)
Mid-week deep thought therapy meditational;
(Dependable incoming waves)
Positive, personal and focused,
(Stay)
Demons of Doubt cast away,
(Strong)
Settling Sea reinvigorates me.
(Tough)
Otis Redding watching the tide
(Disciplined music)
Mature enough to finally be an adult;
(Centered)
Still much of an only-child kid at-heart;
(Safety)
Keeping my head “on the swivel” on the stealth.
(Rebelliously streetwise)
James Baldwin’s “The Fire Next Time”
(Healthy)
Start my day with H2O Green tea,
(detox)
Vitamin and antioxidant augmented;
(Wealthy)
Pay myself first and I need another gig now!
(Banker)
Find a corner as ‘Aunt’ Nashville ‘second Mom’,
Della recommends I pray;
(Spiritual communication)
Alive so long as the sun rises and desires;
(Good habits)
Mama used to say.
(Timeless advises)
It is the calm-before-the-storm…again dammit.
(Cherish downtime)

Cicadas

download

You know its August

When you hear the Cicadas sing

Making that unique creepy sci-fi sound

As they flutter their wings.

Vibrating the air and buzzing in the trees.

In rural areas you see the holes

They emerge from underground;

Leaving moth-like carcasses

Frozen in time from which they escaped.

Their scary symphony is a reminder

A mid-summer night’s scream;

Cicadas remotely and sonic are

Pretty benign until you,

Notice one taking a ride

Upon your shoulder with

Them big, bugged-out eyes!

Oh my Gosh, they will shock you.

Cicadas, dog days of summer insect,

Orchestrating background noise;

Summer clicking and ticking;

Annoying Bugsy raiders.

In September the Crickets out-sing Cicadas.

images

 

 

parishilton2Photo post. “Hell-OOOO, Dolly” Speaks to the Sad state of my sex and love life, but this is more “tatas” than I have seen since 2013! lol Thank you for posting this. The closest to “Paris-dise” I have ever been… Heh

“Blond, shapely, sculptured sublime sweet softness,
Everything I always desired since I was a boy.
Yes, I always “liked white girls”,
If that is the simple American way you want to put it;
Yet is more than that.
It is Asian, Caucasian, Slavic, Eurpoean;
It is culture,
Not a female vulture.
Nipples erect yet sweet as berries
I yearn to climb this grapevine.
When I finally attract a loyal one of my own.
It is the best quest for me.
Keeps me alive succinctly.
For to be facing the beauty above,
Money notrwithstanding,
I want to wake up with those twins.
Would be like being in Parisdise!”

…To Be continued…because I CAN and am a Man.

Source: Freezing My Frame ®

I believe that,

Too many undesirable immigrants have come!

Look at what happened as,

In many big USA cities,

We look like a third world country.

Ever since I played this Neil Diamond song

On the radio in the early 1980s.

Too many I say because

Theses newbies do not assimilate

Why we are and who from,

America is independent!

I would be an isolationist President.

No today’s settlers only seek to rape;

Our storied culture instead of learning

Sending back to their poor country,

Money here they are earning.

Not wanting to be true “Americans”.

Shamefully we let them do this after nine-eleven,

Running scared instead of doing

A Harry Truman-like,

Enola Gay blast versus our enimies.

Wiping the asswipes from threatening us.

“Today”, Neil sings and yet

This  4th of July holiday,

We, our government has done little to

Annihilate the constant threat

That undid the life I was promised by

Our parents after World War II.

Now down is up,

Up is down and America,

Who once historically

Separated from overbearing British England

Is now seen by many

As a nation of clowns.

cous·in
 a child of one’s uncle or aunt;  person belonging to the same extended family; a thing related or analogous to another.

what-are-cousins-for-1-638

My parents let me know they are kin;

When we were little boys and girls,

At family gatherings played together again.

The more “ants” and uncles you had

The more cousins you had to play with!

Mine was Thelma and I was jealous when she married.

It was very cool since I was an only child.

Away from under the nose of my two controlling parents.

As uncles and aunts died-off

Spread across the states,

Increasingly less contact over decades with them

Less and less meaningful relationships

As they married or we had our careers.

Cousins are cool when you are young,

They are non-assisting adults in my experience as we age.

I only reconnected via LinkedIN with one who was similar to me,

Recently and only one year older than I;

A judicial magistrate who I played ball with in 1969!

Only to hear that he just died a couple months thereafter!

Cousins with reality checks, is what they are good for.

I never hear from or about most of them,

Save from my thankfully still alive Mum.

Cousins are like a phantom family member and war;

Past parental fun and we had to be around so why not?

Yet as a child of one’s uncle or aunt,

I tried to check-in with an older cousin guy I admired;

Mum encouraged me to do so but,

We have nyet in-common!

He is a stick-in-the-mud snob.

At the end of my day,

What are they really good for?

lol

It eta no surprise to me
Many southerners in the USA
Still “fight” the American civil war philosophically.
I was called a “Yankee” often when I lived in Nashville;
Didn’t take it personally;
There is a baseball team they may mean. 1390943-american_civil_war6

Southern traditional Christian churchers killed by a BOY.
They watch TV cover the worst ad-nausea,
Copy/act upon misconceptions
No home training to enable common sense.
Today’s media “news directors” cover the worst man has to offer
Where is the good news balance?

As a veteran Black American, I understand both sides.
One is steeped in southern comfort confederacy,
The other having overcome except
Government allowed influx of similar beings;
Meanwhile were not educated to get the memo.

One state still flies the “crossed stars”.
This kid learns distorted history with rednecks in bars
Copycat actors and corporate deceptive news race card protractors,
Keeping the poison flowing in the (un) United race States;
“They reinforce it at the dinner table”,
My dad would always say. american-civil-war

Government-encouraged family decapitation;
Beheaded family now causes poor deportment repetition.
As too many again watch TV cover a sad example.
Of American multicultural mismanagement;
Yet another racial worldwide national embarrassment.
Upon their first brown-skinned President’s watch.

I’ll be Here

The chances increase that, now that I am sixty-plus, I might get a condition also and suddenly slip away, or that the war there in your country will take you from me; your mother may pass on and then we will never fulfill our London plus four years promise to see each other again and marry since meeting at Café Skype in 2010. Afraid, yet optimistic – to a point.

When you are Concerned
or when you are in need of reassuring…

I’ll be right beside you
Comfort you will find.

If you need a vacation from war in your country,
Or a loving helpful Long distance love to walk with hand-in-hand

Better for having met you gefore (before).

I’ll be right here for you,

Tell your mother I want to meet her

And to stay strong.

Via your not-so-good written English,

I do not know how long she has!

I am with you even if you cannot see me;
I truly understand.

I’LL BE HERE FOR YOU!

До Свидания.

533-god-can-heal-a-broken-heart

Where I work there is not enough street parking,
The company I work for created a small lot,
Which sits next to the concrete one for the executives.
The bed of the worker’s lot is grey gravel stones.

One chilly autumn morning I backed the car in off of the street,
I got out heading to the trunk to retrieve my leather jacket.
That is when something golden and shinny caught my eyes
I was quick to identify it as jewelry.

Surely they were crushed by tires upon all of those stones!
Still attached to the little plastic thing used to display in stores,
On the reverse side was the price tag.
Even this was not too soiled to clean – I did;
Meaning these earrings hadn’t lain there for very long.

I picked them up,
Their shape reminds me of the sign for infinity;
The measure of time I will care for thee.
For now they adorn my office cubicle.
Showing them to some female coworkers,
“Must belong to ‘Beyonce’ “, one said.
She was referring to the rather stuck-up,
Asian-looking, double-breasted receptionist.
She thinks she is “all that” and is not pleasant.

Often praying and I wish you were here.
I could offer these earrings to you just for fun;
You would reject them as not real gold or second-hand.
“Costume jewelry” is the term I always heard mother use;
I believe you would appreciate it is the good thought that counts!

Knowing your ear lobes are not pierced,
I guess I will save them for you anyway.
When I picked them up,
They reminded me in another new way,
Of the past gifts you’ve sent to me;
All of which fit to the “T”,
Even when personally you had not met me!
And how my ears long for the ring of thy voice.

???????????????????????????????

???????????????????????????????

IMG_0360