Story as Offering to the Goddess

So now that I have decompressed from this weekend, and from dealing with my ex, I now feel comfortable enough to write a story for the Goddess.  It is a full moon after all. I've had a candle lit all night, and I will put on some more incense as well to set the "mood".  Story for the evening?  An Unrequited Love Story.  Please note that this is purely a work of FICTION and none of this ever happened on this life plane.  Also, this is still a draft.  I'm still reworking it in my head.


The story centers around two main characters: Simoriah and Leonardo.  Simoriah is a woman in her late 20's living in central NJ, working in a call center and dating Ivan.  Ivan is a guy who was popular in high school; now, he is in his late '20's and still partying while his friends slowly grow up and get married.  Ivan also has a 12 year old child, Iris, that Simoriah helps to take care of.  Iris is also the main reason Simoriah stays around, since she wants a family with Ivan.  Simoriah is generally happy with Ivan, but she wishes he would grow up and take more responsibility with his life.  She also wishes he was a lot smarter than he is.  Mentally, she is languishing in this relationship and secretly wishes she could have an intellectual affair on Ivan.
Leonardo is Ivan's good friend.  He was in the army for 8 years and travelled the world before he returned home to the drama laden city that is Freehold, NJ.  There are so many young adults there that party like they have no responsibilities.  He was ready to settle down; however his Jersey ex-girlfriend took him for a ride, and he is very hesitant to trust another woman around here.
Simoriah first met Leonardo when her car stopped working, and Ivan called his friend for a ride.  Leonardo was on his was to college and this would only be a minor detour.  Leonardo mistakenly assumed Simoriah was another of Ivan's loser girlfriends and asked.for $10.  For a 5 minute ride.  Simoriah was a little incensed but Ivan coughed up the money.  During the car ride, Simoriah said little to Leo, as she also assumed he was another of Ivan's idiot friends.  Leo thought she was being standoffish; needlessly, their friendship got off to a rocky start.  Simoriah continued to see Leonardo anytime Ivan wanted a guy's night out, or.some weed.  Slowly, she grew to see that Leonardo was more than just another neighborhood ruffneck. He is truly a world traveler, by means of the army.  Germany, Saudi Arabia, South Africa, England.  These are all places Simoriah could only dream of going.  And as much as Simoriah adored traveling, Ivan and her only had money for short distance camping trips as a bus ride to Indiana courtesy of good old Greyhound.  So of course, this well travelled soul was fascinating to her.  He was also a hot ticket in his hometown of Freehold, moreso for being a ruffneck with a good job.  And he was a very attractive Latin man as well.  Normally, this would be Simoriah's type, but with Ivan in her life Leo was stuck in the friendszone.  Until one fateful Christmas Eve night.
Although Leo had a great job as webmaster for the local hospital, he moonlight for the local street pharmacist.  Ivan had contracted Leo to obtain some weed for one of Simoriah's friend's parties, unbeknownst to Simoriah.  So when Simoriah showed up at the party, with her familiar witchy friends, and Leonardo alongside, she was a little tense at first.  
Although Ivan was familiar with this side of Simoriah, she had take great pains to hide this side of her from Ivan's friends and family since they were all Christian and Catholic.  Simoriah desperately wanted to adopt Iris and be an official "family" with Ivan, and knew that her spiritual beliefs could get in the way of this happening.  So she was nervous as her friend Spacey lit the Yule log in honor of the holiday.  But Leo didn't flinch.  And while Spacey performed a little ritual for the Solstice, Simoriah kept glancing at Leo carefully to see his reaction.  Leo didn't flinch; his reaction was purely reflective.  It was quite a moving and beautiful ritual; even Ivan, who normally can't sit still, watched the whole ritual in amazement as Spacey lite the Yule logs, and the incense, and the candles to honor the darkest night of the year, and the renewal of the season.
After the ritual was over, Simoriah walked over to Leo to find out what he had thought, and what Ivan had advised him.  Turns out that Ivan barely gave him any info about the party, except for the fact that they were "weird" (they were quite the eclectic bunch).  But while Leo himself is Christian, his travels have taught him to respect cultures and beliefs from all over the world.  This was very refreshing to hear from Simoriah, who could do without yet another of Ivan's speeches as to why all gay men should be sequestered; it also fueled her intrigue of Leo.
The rest of the party, Leo was being a perfect gentleman while Ivan was acting a FOOL.  While Leo could carry on conversations about everything from being "hood rich" to powerful political forces, all Ivan could worry about is being high again.  Leo kept reminding Ivan to simmer down. Simoriah adored the fact that Leo was able to keep Ivan in line.  Matter of fact, the more she pondered about Leo, the more she started to appreciate his better qualities.  His charm, his grace in a situation where he was ever the fish out of water.  His acceptance of all cultures.  His work ethic; hell Ivan needed some of that.  Simoriah even regretted committing to Ivan for a second before reminding herself that Ivan was the reason she even met Leo in the first place.
Then, Simoriah realized that it was 3:30 AM.  Simoriah and Ivan promised his parents that they would be there early tomorrow morning for Iris to open her presents.  Of course, Ivan wanted to keep partying, even while the party was slowly winding down.  Simoriah went to walk back to her apartment, which was 3 blocks away, and Leo asked her, "Where do YOU think you're going so late at night?"
"I'm going home.  I can't wait for Ivan anymore; Lord knows he may be here all night."
"Well, I don't believe in letting ladies walk home by themselves so late at night."
"Really, I don't want to impose, it is only three blocks away..."
"I'm imposing.  I insist I take you home."  stated Leo.  And with that, Simoriah hopped into Leo's Honda Civic, and he drove her home.
When they finally arrived, Leo suddenly remembered that they needed more rolling paper for the party.  Simoriah invited him in and pointed in the direction of the drug paraphernelia.  Suddenly getting a second wind, Simoriah decided to finish washing the dishes in the sink.  She knew if she didn't do them, they wouldn't get done as Ivan would never bother himself with such "woman's work".  Simoriah started to wash the dished when she looked over and saw Leo with a towel hand.  "At your service...."
Simoriah giggled and beamed brightly.  She had never seen this side of Leo before.  "It's ok, Leo.  You don't need to help me.  Ivan..."
"Ivan doesn't help you with jack.  I'm quite aware of that."
Simoriah turned away from the sink.  Embarrassed by what Leo stated, she sat on the couch.  Leo followed her, and sat down next to her.  Simoriah then started with, "I thought that..."
"Oh, you do a great job of covering for him.  But I know the truth.  Don't forget we've been friends 15 years.
Simoriah went to turn on the TV, but quickly remembered that they no longer had cable TV, as they could not afford it.  She was fumbling around, trying to find a way to end this conversation with Leo.  Meanwhile, Leo continued on, "Really, I can't imagine why you stay with him..."
"Hey, I LOVE that man!" Simoriah exclaimed as if she had something to prove.
"We all know you do.  All of Ivan's close friends and family know how devoted you are.  The question that we have is, "Why?"
Simoriah was startled by this.  She didn't have a response, other than, "but I LOVE him.." So, she sat on the worn in beige couch bathing in the full moon light.  Leo sat down next to her, much to her shagrine.  Apparently the weed was adding moxy to his already bold personality. 
Simoriah found it hard to sit next to him, as the energy was palpable.  She labored with her breathing, but could not ignore the excitement building up from Leo sitting next to her.  She was also feeling a little light headed from the sexual tension between them.  Leo reached over with his strong hand and started playing with her hair; this turned her on even more and she let out a soft moan.  The two met eyes, and then it happened.

At Least the Meal was Free Part Two

Heres another story from my dating vault. Enjoy!
They say that the truth is stranger than fiction. I did not meet this man on migente. He came to me after seeing me on a website that I never knew I was on. See, I was talked into joining a website for what I thought was only for military singles. Turns out, this site links all different types of single sites together, and lumps the singles onto any appropriate site. He had written to me from a site for big, beautiful women and their lovers. I decided to give him a chance, because he had a great job doing computer work for an insurance company. It also helped that he was from an area of south jersey that I was looking into moving towards again.
Our first conversation went well. Except for one thing: he was stuck on the fact that while he did live in Mount Laurel now, he was from Burlington city. In the not so great part. And he still likes to visit that part a lot, since all of his family and friends were there. He had mentioned that growing up in that part made him who he is today. Throughout the whole conversation, I had sensed this vibe that he was sending, that he was better than me for growing up the way he did. I ignored it, of course.
Since he was from South jersey, we decided it was best to meet up in the middle, at a diner near exit 8 off the NJ turnpike. Depending how he made me feel, we were going back to my spot for some club hopping. (I was still a little trusting of people at this point.) I was nervous going there, because this (I thought) was the classiest guy I have met in a long time. I wanted to impress him. I already was wearing my best summer outfit, complete with makeup and my hair all curled out. So, I threw on a dance CD to shake off any last minute nerves. Hey, I thought, I am a great catch for any man. I have to believe I am worth it. I never once questioned if he was worth it.
So, I met him outside the diner. At first, he was cordial. He opened the door for me, and fully paid for the dinner. We had a nice conversation at dinner, but his head seemed to be elsewhere. I was worried that we might not be connecting, but at the same time, I was giving it my best shot. That’s all one can do.
To my surprise, he agreed to take the date further. He followed me back to my place, and we parked our cars near the door. My goal was to get ready to club hop. Well, his whole attitude changed the minute we walked in that door. Suddenly, he was no longer interested in me as a girlfriend. “We have nothing in common.” He said. Then he tore apart our conversation at the diner. “You said you did not like rap. Well, I LIKE rap. You said you did not like “Move Your Body” by Nina Skye. Well, I LIKE the 45 minute extended remix.” Everything I liked, he made an effort to dislike. Finally, disgusted I said, “Why did you follow me back to my place then if you don’t find me attractive?”
“Well, that is just it. We would not make a good couple, but I still find myself sexually attracted to you.”
“So, you came to use me for the sex, right? Well, you might as well go home now, it is not gonna happen.” He refused to go home, stating he was too tired to make the long commute home. I felt sorry for him, so he stayed. But I did protect myself. I went to bed with a tank top, underwear and full pants in case he wanted to be funny.
We then started talking about sexual preferences. He admitted to receiving all the pleasure but not wanting to give back any. I am glad I found out now, I could never be with a man like that. I did admit to hopping the fence when it came to sex a few times, but now I am at the point where I see myself with a man. In this day and age, it is hard to maintain a relationship, much less one with a woman. I was about to tell him about the first time I outed to my stepmother, when he interrupted with, “Did you and your stepmother ever have sex with each other?”
“Uhhhh, eeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwww. No. What kind of sick question is that?”
“Hey, don’t judge me about my sexual turn-ons.”
That’s where the conversation ended. We both fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning, I was still fully covered with my clothing still. He was fully naked. I went about my daily routine and when he was ready, I made sure he did not steal anything in the middle of the night. Then I let him out the door. That was the last of Nicholas.

At Least The Meal Was Free - Paramus Guy

OK guys, I am pulling a few stories out of my livejournal to see if anyone likes them/hates them/ MEH! / bothers to read them.  This first story involved a BAAAAAD date with a guy from, well, Paramus.  This is an actual true story.  Yup, I get the winners.  I feel bad now about the part involving Hunts Point, but also feel as if he got uberdefensive over nothing.
I met him online through migente (www.migente.com, latino-american internet hangout) . I was initially attracted to the fact that he not only had a good job and car, he had diversified interests. In other words, he did not listen only to rap and Reggaeton, but also to rock music. He had even been to a concert at a venue close by (Starland Ballroom). So, we had set a date for Wednesday night.
On Tuesday, I was prompted to call him for directions to Paramus (we're talking the days before I had a GPS in the phone). Also, at the time, I did not know much about Paramus, being that I live an hour away. I had never been to the area before, and wanted to get a feel for what I was getting into that night. When I called him, I asked what I thought was a simple enough question. “What is Paramus like?” He responded by stating he didn’t know. “Oh,” I said. “I thought you lived there.”
“yes, I do.”
“Then what is Paramus like? Is it safe?”
“I dunno. Why are you asking me?
“I am trying to get a feel for the place. What is up there? Anything exciting.”
He said there was nothing exciting up there. I knew there was a mall near the vicinity, and I asked about it. He responded, “yeah, what about it?”
Trying to make the conversation go somewhere, I asked him how it was compared to Hunts Point in the Bronx. He had mentioned he grew up there. He immediately was incensed. “So, what you tryin to say? That I grew up in a poorer neighborhood than you? That I grew up differently?” I was not trying to say anything. I was just trying to ask a simple question.
(looking back on this now, I can see where the wording of the question was bad.  I was not trying to assert "white privelidge" into the question, but I did want to know, before the days of knowing about citydata.com, if I could park my car there safely.)
“Ok, so can we at least agree that Hunt’s Point in the Bronx is bad?” He became even angrier. “It is not a bad area. Maybe YOU with your suburbanite family and your pretty houses are not used to the area, but it is not a bad area.” I was not about to defend my upbringing; it was not my fault that my parents wanted me to grow up in a neighborhood without guns firing off every 5 minutes.
“Is Hunts Point anything like Paramus? Can I park my car there and leave it?” “Yes, Paramus is safe, the part we are gonna be in. Does that make you happy?!?”
“Uhhh, yes I suppose.”
At this point I did not want to go on a date with this man. I can already write the story in my head: this man was a successful Latin man who had trouble letting go of his ghetto past. Been there, done that already this summer. Fine, we have little in common when it comes to our upbringing. Let’s focus on what we do have in common, what can bring us together. But, he did not want to hear it. Besides, I was quite broke.
So, after work that night, I was busy counting $$ and decided to call him to break off the date. Why waste my time? After greeting him politely, I made the comment that maybe we should not meet up the next night. “Why not?”
“Well, it is a long ride. I don’t really have the $$ for it right now.”
“I’ll pay your gas.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that, that’s very sweet. But also, tolls. Tolls are expensive.” He wasn’t fooled. “The most you will pay in tolls to get up here from your place is around $2. But, if it makes you feel better, I will pay the tolls.”
Dead silence. I did not know what to say. He was not making this easy to back out of this date. So, I reluctantly agreed to go up there. “I will be leaving my parent’s house around 9:30PM, is that OK? This means I should be there by 10:30PM.”
He agreed. Well, maybe I was wrong, I thought. Maybe I got the wrong impression of him. Maybe he had a wonderful evening planned and this is why he pressured me into still visiting him.
The next night, I left my parents house around 9:30PM. I arrived in Paramus around 10:30. The whole car ride there, I was on the phone with a man I was also interested in seeing. The conversation was a relief. At least I did not feel like it was me that complicated the conversation. When I arrived in Paramus, I met him at the Commerce Bank right off the Garden State Parkway. I followed him back to his apartment in New Rochelle. We drove by 2 fancy restaurants and a whole line of strip malls. Seeing this, was immediately put at eases; he lived in a nice town.
We parked my car in an elementary school parking lot. He wanted to go back to his place, and I insisted we go to the diner instead. Not that I was hungry, but he was not getting anything for free. So, we went to a local diner.
The conversation was equally as awkward. He told me that normally he does not eat this late. He had also mentioned that he recently lost 12 pounds and was going to the gym. He tries to look his best and he expects the same from his women. So, I said, “Is this a warning to me? Get my butt in shape?” He mentioned that he was not as bad as his uncle. Even if the girl is sweet, if she is a bit fat he will not be seen with her in public. I acknowledged that everyone has their own preferences, but at the same time, we are masters of our own fate. He better not complain that he can’t find a good woman if he is going to be so shallow.
So, on the subject of exercise, I had mentioned that I like to go visit various state parks on my time off. I like to walk around and exercise there, when I have time. He does not do that at all; he prefers playing different team sports on weekend. “So, you prefer to exercise socially rather than alone?” I asked. He rebutted, “I could do it either way. I have no preference.” “Oh,” I started, “you had just said you prefer spending your weekends in team sports.” “Yeah, so?” he responded. This went on for about 5 minutes until I completely changed the subject. In my mind, I knew it was hopeless. He was a stalwart; he HAD to be right. His mind frame was rigid. I could have had a better conversation with a Frenchman, considering I flunked French in college.
So, the waitress passes us by one last time. When she went to leave, he asked for the bill, in Spanish. I had let him know that it was very silly of him to assume right away she knew Spanish. Her accent sounded more middle European rather than latin. “Well, what do YOU think she is?” Well, I told him I did not know, that a good guess would be that since all the diners from North Jersey are Greek owned, maybe she was Greek. It turns out that we were both wrong, she was from Romania. When I pointed out we were both wrong, he was not a happy camper.
We went back to his place and watched a little television. From the looks of his apartment, he was either single, moving or just broke up with someone, since he was still very much packed. He made mention that he was going to relax, change into something a little bit more comfortable. He went to change in his bathroom, and I went into the bedroom. I noticed there was a bible sitting on his nightstand, open. I found it fascinating this man read the bible. When he came from the other room, I asked him about it. “No, I don’t read the bible. Why?”
“Well, you have the bible opened up on your night stand. You must have been reading it.”
“No, I wasn’t. WHY?? Does it MATTER?”
At this point I just wanted to go home. But he made it clear that he wanted to try for a little something. Meanwhile, the thought of this man trying to kiss me made me wretch with disgust. No, he did not want to kiss me, but rather, get to the good stuff right away. I politely declined. He got mad, and then rushed me out of his apartment.
When I got to my car, I was so upset I started to tear. I made it clear to him that I was upset about visiting him. I could not believe that I had wasted this much time and effort on a nimrod that could not keep a conversation flowing. Maybe he was better off with an argumentative type. It was at this point I demanded the gas $$.
“You mean to tell me you can’t afford the $5?
“No, I can’t and I should not have to. I visited you at your request, now please give me the gas $$.”
After much prodding and pestering, I got the gas $$. This was the first time I had ever asked a man for gas $$ for a date. But, if the date is that lousy, more than the meal better be for free. And besides, nothing could pay me back for my wasted time.

Dystopian Fiction

Been thinking about adding a fiction story surrounding this idea to my mini repertoire of stories.  But always, in the back of my mind, I kept saying to myself that I just didn't have the experience to know what it felt like to be a character in such an cataclysmic event.  There are many thoughts, feelings, sensations, that go through an individual character's mind when going through such an event.  And to describe one person's thought's, let alone a whole stories worth of characters, along with the sights, sounds, smells and touch of the tragedy seems like such a daunting task.  But I am definitely up for the challenge at this point.

I remind myself that Carl Sagan was never in "Space".  JRR Tolkien was never ACTUALLY in Midedle-Earth, and CS Lewis was never in Narnia.  These are all pretent places that only felt real when one read the stories.  Those stories, brilliantly written, allowed the person to be swallowed up in another world, another story that felt so real that sometimes, it was jarring to come back to the so-called real world.  This is the kind of story, I want to write.

Also, sadly enough, I CAN pull from my real world experience.  While I am not going to pretend that the world ended when Sandy hit NJ, the storm was, in itself, a powerful catastrophic event for towns right on the water.  I wrote all about it during the days after the storm since, with no electric or access to internet, I had nothing else to do but read and write.  And to feel so disconnected from the world was truly a scary place.  Listening to a min-radio at night, surrounded by candles and my cat, being forced to listen to 101.5 as the main radio station for news on the storm (most other stations were badly affected) in NJ..Also seeing what happened to Union Beach and Seabright after the storms (yes, I was in both places right after the storms) was also jarring.  I could use those experiences to write about what could happen after a major storm.  Like, as bad as Sandy was, I imagined a storm with the combined rain effect of Irene and the storm surge and winds of Sandy.  Not only would NJ end up a big water park like it did after Irene (not nearly as catastrophic since, most places that got flooded were the places that are used to being flooded) but the destruction would be far geater with the winds AND rain.  The lack of heavy rain in Sandy is what saved the inland from some devasation.

Hell, really I could turn it into a love story (as I always do, tho I am trying to avoid it).  But I guess there has to be some powerful relationship in the story, even if a platonic or family relationship.  There were a lot of people that lost loved ones during the storm.  There were also couples that grew far stronger during the storm, as they realized that the real world trappings of day to day life were just bullshit.

********************************Story Time***********************************

As soon as I said that, as soon as I mentioned about the couples getting stronger from the storm...I had an image floating around my head.  Real world family.  She takes care of the township's animal shelter and he is a police officer.  I'll call them Jack and Diane, for now.  Diane had a busy day, cleaning up the shelter after a flood (good thing all of the floors are stainless steel, except for the offices).  Her stepdaughter, Hanna, was helping her out by feeding the animals and mopping out the backroom where the food supplies were.  Suddenly, one of Jack's buddies, Ethan, stops in to check on Diane.  He notices that Hanna is mopping up the backroom and jokingly says, "Hey, we got child labor laws you are ignoring." And Diane, who is covered in dirt, water and every animal fluid alive, has a much needed laugh.  She'd offer a hug to Ethan but she reeked of animal sweat.
Hanna pipes up with, "It's ok, I like helping out the animals."  Hanna is such a good kid, and while the relationship with Diane can be strained at times, her and Diane have bonded over their intense connection to helping animals.
"That's impressive.  All Katie can talk about is how she is missing her favorite TV shows."  Katie is one of Hanna's good friends.  They normally hang out after school but since the storm hit on Thursday, they have only spent one day together since both Katie's and Hanna's families are busy volunteering with the post storm efforts.  In addition, the neighborhood is riddled with downed power lines, concrete and nailed in pieces of wood.  This isn't the environment you allow your kids to play in.  Especially at night, the town looms in darkess, like a post apocalyptic war scene, with no electricity for miles.  This separation from Katie has caused a boatload of anxiety with Hanna, as she seems to be depressed since the storm hit.
Of course, when Hanna heard "TV,", she immediately started lamenting about how she missed watching all of her Saturday night shows.  It was Diane's job to rein Hanna in at this point, stating, "C'mon now Hanna, the tv will always be there.  What's important is that we have each other."
"But I don't have Katie," Hanna said while fighting back tears.  Hanna is at an age where being without her friends is like being denied air to breathe, and Diane understood this.  But there seemed to be nothing she could do.  Hanna went back to mopping and Ethan followed Diane back into the main office area.  He looked back at Hanna and said quietly, "You know, Margery is bringing Katie to her grandparent's house inland.  They have electric and heat, and (looking at Hanna) most importantly, tv.  It wouldn't be an issue to take Hanna too."    
Diane thought for a minute.  While she normally doesn't agree to things concerning Hanna without her husband's consent, she knew that Hanna LOVED Katie's grandparents, and they were a safe, warm home up in the countryside away from this craziness.  Also, Hanna and Jack had increasingly been fighting due to Hanna's restlessness and inability to understand the sheer permanence of the storm's effects.  Staying at the grandparent's home would provide a much needed respite for everyone in the house.
So, Diane agreed.  She then told Hanna of the plan, and advised her that they were going home and packing her an "away bag" for a few days.  At first, Hanna was confused; "sleepovers" were not allowed on "school nights" and while normally this is the case, there would be no "school" of any kind until the electricity was turned back on.

A few hours later, Jack returned from his 16 hour shift as a police officer.  Diane could tell that these long days were wearing on him, and she was careful to tread lightly around him.  But there was only so much treading one can do in the household.
Jack started in with, "Where's Hanna?"  Diane stated, "She went with Katie to Ethan's parents."  Jack simply nodded and went upstairs to change.  Diane followed him and asked him about his day.  "Fine" is all she got out of him.  "Just fine, Jack?" asked Diane."Really?  You don't look fine.  Want to talk about it?"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE, ALRIGHT??!! I've had a VERY STRESSFUL DAY!!!" and slammed the door.  Diane fought back tears, grabbed a lit candle and went to make dinner.  Thank goodness for little miracles like gas stoves and ovens.  Diane went to use the last of the meats since, they can only keep so long with ice, and made a beef stew.  While she was cutting carrots for the stew, Jack came down with a very hardended look on his face.  Diane couldn't look at him for the moment; she was still upset for being yelled at over asking such an innocuous question.
"I'm so sorry, Diane.  I don't mean to be so upset with you.  I....know you had a bad day too."  Diane, still busy cutting vegetables, was hardly unmoved by Jack's weak attempt at emoting.
Jack then went into the doorway and started to fall down.  This normally stoic man was pushed to his limits and needed a release.  As soon as Diane heard him fall to his knees, she ran over there to catch him.  Jack just started to bawl into Diane's arms.  This strong man, also covered in sweat, mud and dirt, was also having a hard time adjusting to "the new normal" - looters trying to rob houses in the area affected by Sandy; people left without homes, cars, even clothing; the inefficiently of government in getting the necessary supplies to people.  Diane sat there, holding this powerful man who was reduced to tears from the stress of his job.
 And she looked up at her husband and said, "In spite of it all, somehow this all feels normal."

This is all I have for now.  I do want to work on the story later.  Or, maybe incorporate it into a larger story.  But, these are the moments I cherise.  The kind where I am sitting, thinking about something, and a story comes flowing out of me like a river.

Kundalini

This is the Second Draft of the Sexy Poem.  I've been working on this for a while, but just didn't have the right energy in me to complete it.  I was finally able to complete it last night after the right energy was stirred up.

I just hope this poem ......moves people....in a GOOD way.  Please, constructive feedback encouraged.

The sexual tension is killing me,
Sitting across from thee
The nerves, the ache, the pent up passion,
the desire just to get down on my knees and do as I please
to your little man
You’ll be so satisfied you can’t stand

It was so easy for me
Just to hide them all away in that secret trunk of my soul
Those feelings, those cravings, they made me want to scream
Blood curdling, toe curling,
body shaking neighbor waking
Screams of passion and pleasure and pain.
Since the first time I felt it
I was never the same.

I became a slave to the bliss of a stolen kiss
at midnight Like Anais Nin, who sold her soul for sin

I was sowing my slut seeds doing dirty deeds for free. Until one day
I swore to not allow myself to be controlled
By such petty human predilections
I had more worldly concerns
Than to be a servant to my bodily weakness
So I pushed all my feelings aside
And my body became a walking prison
As I would not allow myself even a glimmer
Of libido

But even the most restricted self made nun
can’t ignore the roar of animal liberation
I am afraid that, once my guards are down
and I’ve lowered my bounds
I may turn into this creature, this
Unrepressed mess of pure sexuality
when you're by my side I beg you.
Take my body on a roller coaster ride
I long for, I need, like pure water and air,
One swift tug of my hair
Combined with a knowing glare
And I’m reduced to this heaping
pile of giddyness
Then I slowly
Seductively
playfully
 let my fingers dance around
on your body
while Awakening my kundalini
And finally
Allow magic to happen
Spontaneously
That sweet sensation, the lust for body and a deep
Connection that at long last gives us a glimpse of heaven

in a climax.

Disposable Girl

So, I wrote a poem.  And it's kinda deep.  A first draft.  Let me know if you like it.  NO, this is not about anyone in particular, mainly about the bullshit "dating" game itself.  And hypocrisy.  

Disposable Girl

They say nice guys always finish last

Do you think it is different on the other side of the gender wall?

Yeah, we think we’re grown with our smart phones

And fancy cars and lattes

But we still use playground politics

In our cubicles and soccer fields

Cut throat cat fights moved from

Backyards with real birds to

Online chats for fake blue birds

And nowhere is there a more vilified person

Than the woman who dares to defy

Social norms by NOT being a walking icon

Of every man’s dream

Who dares speak her mind against

The bullshit double standards of overweight

Fat shaming nerd shaming CEO’s who sell their souls

To further the agenda of the master class

The new world dictators don’t need

To control lands if they rule over

Big name brands

And in the middle of it

The cat fights and the playground politics

Are girls like me

I’m a disposable girl

I’m not good enough to be a

Vogue following executive super woman

For I did have bigger plans for the world

I am kind and compassionate

Empathetic and intelligent

And all that is cancelled out because

You can’t see kindness across the room

Also, I’m fair, loving and giving

Down to the bone

Give the clothes off my back

And the food in my fridge kinda girl

Which is good for the bottom feeding

Lowlife scavengers

Who I do attract as men

Because most “good” men love bitches

They may claim to want an

Open minded, articulate and devoted wife

Then they really go for Stepford wives, live “hood” ornaments

Who drop their husbands at the sign of a bigger wallet

They may say they want a “Freak in the sheets”

While they struggle with their

Madonna-Whore complexes and

marry a raging, screaming shrew,

a walking icicle to the world

They may assert that they want

A caring, loving compassionate woman

But party loving two faced manipulative

Honey badgerettes are far more fun

And yet, easier to control

So fuck me for being everything

Society states that it values and yet no man wants

 a disposable, forgettable girl

I want to know what it’s like

To be the two faced Madonna

At least she gets a ring and a reprieve

From this shallow, hollow, bullshit world called

The dating game

She gets to walk down a flower filled aisle

 And be the chiffon and organza queen

For a day, anyway

She, a walking hypocrisy,

Covered in business suits and manicured nails

While bragging about her “natural” beauty

who lectures about kindness

While slut shaming the jezebels

despite their own personal hell

Who pretends to love all things children,

And yet is a raging unthankful troll

To her closest family and friends

Who puts on a show on the way to

Donation station

And makes sure to kick the homeless dogs

out of her way

I want to be that two faced Madonna

Who receives unearned praise

For being the perfect model,

The cookie cutter Stepford wife of society

TO HELL WITH THAT

I’m happy to be a disposable girl

Who, by virtue, is independent and free

Sorry if I’m not a damsel in distress

But I’m sure there’s a kitten stuck up a tree

So save your energy

If it’s not meant to happen

And allow me to be…..me.

Angel with Broken Wings

This is a new poem that I wrote.  I hope people like it.

Started off by having the chorus from the song, "Same Love"from Macklemore in my head....

I can't change...even if I tried....
Even if I wanted too...

And it all flowed from there:

And if society has outcasted me
Why not me be...just me?
Because being me sometimes still
frightens me
A small part of me
Still yearns to live normally
But inevitably, this side of me
will die slowly
Along with the outdated, antiquated
mores and folkways
of yesterday.

WHO SAYS?
I can't have a family at 40
I can't write a screenplay?
I have to define my sexuality
with one word?
I can't use my
overly literal analytical
skills for good?

Who says I have to change?
Because I can't...even if I tried
And at times, I WANT to...
shove that crayon back into my brain like Homer...

I want to like babies and hair
cooking and sewing
makeup and clothing
because my vagina tells me I should
wish I had more attention to pay
because the price I pay by being this way
is too great some days...
It keeps family, friends, and lovers
at bay
while I stay in my hideaway
the bubble built for myself
to recover from the stress of the world
And nobody understands why I
can read dogs and children...but
adult humans are another breed of animal

Sick of hiding
Sick of fighting
sick of biting my tongue
sick of providing another explanation
as to why I am me.
I accept and love everyone as they are...
EVERYONE
AS.THEY.ARE.
What an amazing thing..
All I ask is the same
All I expect is to be left alone.