Saturday, October 13, 2007
Black Male Appreciation - a great blog!
Writer's Book of Hope - a great book;-)
*click on image for its source - which is a motivating blog for tri-athletes :-)
My blog is closed, for reasons I won't get into on this blog, but for those here that would like to read it, email me and I will gladly send you an invite.
This is a poem I have written a couple years ago, it's no show stopper but definitely one I hold dear. I don't have a title for it, maybe after you read it you can suggest a title.
Friday, October 12, 2007
A total embarrassment…
Oh My God…what will people think?
What I discovered early on is that we all fail…
The key is to fail forward…
Yes…that’s what I said…
What that means to me is when things go wrong…
Don’t wallow, don’t give up…just move forward…
You can cry a bit…but only for a minute…
The writing game is absolutely a way to fail forward…
Any of us who has written a thing…
Knows this…we will be glorifying in our success…
Then along will come something…
Lack of book sales, lack of support, withering reviews…
But instead of getting out of the game...
We buckle down…sharpen our pencils…
Show them, “That’s What’s Up…
It has been said that the best way to show them…
Is to succeed…
Well the best way to show ourselves may just be…
To fail…forward…because what we gain is an appreciation for the…
Real successes…and a preparation for the next failure….because we
Know it will propel us forward…
At your marks, get set…
10 minutes of walking through pitch black to the bus stop.
7 minutes of waiting on the bus.
24 minutes of riding said bus to the train station
36 minutes of riding the train before finally getting off at the station closest to his apartment
15 minutes of waiting for the bus i didn't realize wasn't coming until i finally broke down and checked the bus schedule and finally
53 minute of walking 3 miles to his aparment where i gasped my way up three flights of stairs before landing at his front door.
i spent those two minutes gathering in my wayward breathing, allowing my body to cool down, as i scrubbed the yearning from my countenance and contemplating how i could explain my presence there to him.
"i got worried when you didn't pick up your phone and seeing as you said you weren't feeling well, thought i should stop by to make sure you were okay..."
"i was on my way to a friend's house and figured i would stop by and check on you seeing as her spot is in the same neighborhood..."
"you didn't pick up your phone, and you know how active my imagination is. i thought maybe someone had broken in and attacked you or something so i decided to stop by to make sure..."
lame. all that shit sounded lame. meanwhile, the truth was even lamer.
"uh, when you cancelled our date i grew desperate enough to take a bus, then a train, then walk three miles to your apartment just to see you."
i considered the pathetic nature of my actions as i glanced around the hallway. the lighting was a congealed yellow streak of phlegm coughed up from sickly bulbs leaning listlessly from their perches. the walls were discolored and filthy, large pieces of enamel paint having been venomously scratched from their surfaces like skin off the face of a rape assailant. squinting my eyes, i made out a roach meandering on the floor like it was in no hurry to get where it was going. i furtively kicked it down the steps, not because i was in a magnanimous mood, but because i was grossed out by the thought of insect innards on my shoe. the air was heavy and moist, the stench of cheap booze and cooked cocaine and urine clinging to me as if i'd just been licked by a lush with a crack habit and a weak bladder.
i grew more uncomfortable by the minute and knew i had to make a move before i scared myself into leaving. stepping up to the door, i inhaled deeply to calm my nerves, raised my hand to lift the door knocker...
and stopped midway as i heard feminine laughter coming from inside his apartment.
i immediately pulled back my hand and stood there motionless and hopeful i was insane, because insanity would explain hearing voices.
then i heard his deep chuckle follow on the heels of her giggles.
i began trembling, my heart racing as the truth was stuffed down my throat. i was choking with it.
i was right. he'd lied.
i guess a part of me had felt he'd lied, which was why i was there in the first place. when i'd spoken to him earlier that evening, he didn't sound ill. he sounded like a guy who was taking the first steps towards severing a relationship...
"i'm gonna have to cancel our date tonight, luv," he'd said solicitously.
"but why?" i'd asked, stepping on the dejection crawling around in my voice.
"i'm just not up to it. i've been feeling ill all day," he'd responded, throwing in a cough for good measure.
"you know, we don't have to go out," i'd replied eagerly, "i could come by and take care of you."
then there was the barest of hesitations, almost like a second had hiccuped.
"i'm alright, nikki," he'd said, "i'm just gonna hang out at home tonight. i'll give you a call tomorrow and we can plan something then."
"but i really don't mind! it wouldn't take me long at all to get..."
"don't come over, nikki." he'd interrupted me, his impatience staining the exchange. "i don't want company when i'm not feeling well."
"i wouldn't get in the way, really," i'd continued to press, ridiculously oblivious to the desperate sound of my words.
"NIKKI," he'd said, a step away from yelling, "i'm a grown man. i don't need someone over here to take care of me. i've got this."
after feeling properly chastised, i'd relented...long enough for my doubts about the truth of the matter to surface like insect bites on my skin. my desolation clawed at them until they'd bled determination and i made up my mind to go over to his place.
and now i had confirmation.
i stood there wrapped in a silence beaded with the faux baubles of her blather and edged with a ruffle of his chuckles, the silky threads of maxwell's voice embroidered in swirls of seduction upon it. it felt like a burlap sack against my self-control, abrading the flimsy surface into a landscape of fractures. i held on with all i had, determined not to make an ass of myself by banging on the door and making my presence known in the worst kind of way.
instead i counted to ten as pieces of their conversation pierced the door and further weakened my hold on my anger as my mind ingested the barbs.
she: "...so she believed you?"
me: wha? "two..."
he: "she'll believe whatever i tell her..."
me: what the fuck?!? "three..."
she: "damn. that sista sounds weak. too weak for you."
me: no that bitch didn't say that! "four..."
he: "yeah, she made it too easy for me. all i had to do was wash her feet one time and she was giving up the pussy the same night..."
me: oh my god. why'd he tell her that? "five..."
she: "oh shit, todd. i see you haven't changed one bit..."
me: who IS she, an ex or something?!? "six..."
he: "the women here in the atl don't need much. a nigga do a lil something different and they lining outside a nigga's door happy to suck his dick."
me: shit shit SHIT. "seven..."
she: "that's messed up. you couldn't get away with that shit in baltimore. washing a sista's feet is what you're SUPPOSED to do up there..."
me: please! you bitches be going through the same bullshit up there too! "eight..."
he: "you should have heard her earlier...basically begging a nigga to come over. she sounded so pathetic. that's why she's at home and you're here. you northern women keep a nigga in check."
me: but she AIN'T at home you fuckin BASTID! "nine..."
she: "that's right, todd. don't you EVER think you could treat me like that."
me: i never thought i'd be the kind of sista to let a brotha treat me like this...
i stopped counting before i got to ten. slowly, everything came into sharp focus around me. it was like i woke up from some kind of dream where i was this desperate, love-starved female standing in front of the door of a guy who'd washed my feet once, fucked me five times (not including the dry fuck i'd just received in front of his door), and basically found his way onto my pedestal without any effort on his part.
only it wasn't a dream. it was a sad fucking reality.
i stood there for a while, waiting for the conversation to end, knowing exactly what would happen afterwards. when at last the two of them stopped talking, i turned away from the door and made my way down the stairs. was i limping? it felt like i should be limping or crawling or something because my body had been blasted free of any feeling other than the jagged debris of bitterness and it pinched every nerve, squeezed every muscle, reminding me i wasn't gonna go numb anytime soon.
i wish i could say i immediately 'snapped out of it' and kicked that cat to the curb. actually, it was about a month before i'd finally had enough and cut him out. i'm not even sure what the final straw was, but looking back years later, it's obvious the final straw should have been that night. i can't imagine ever allowing myself to be treated like that again, but i wrote about this to let folk know that the self-awareness i have now is rooted in moments like those. that vulnerability is a part of me and it doesn't ever disappear. i just do a better job of protecting it.
remembering those times keeps me humble and prevents me from EVER looking at a sista and thinking i'm better than her because she settles for a situation that's not good for her. she got her road to travel just as i do. i just hope she eventually finds herself in a better resting area.
The brain was the first to notice, she was gone….and he felt nothing, I mean logically he knew of her absence, and time and time again she had told him why she would leave, but this last time, this last incident was too much to take and she left. He decided, he being the leader of all things, he would explain to the rest of her, for surely they must be in shock.
“Ummhumm, ummhummm” he said gathering his voice…” I’ve got a bit of bad news, or at least I think it’s bad, see I wouldn’t really know without my Heart, my heart is gone, she left sometime this morning…I was fast asleep and all of sudden I felt nothing, nothing at all.
Eyes chimed in eager to see, “yeah me too, I had a bit of a night last night, I mean I was flowing, overflowing, the ducts were way below the fill line, and then, whoosh, nothing, dry as “Feets” heal and then some.
“What you talking about Eyes, why I haven’t been dry since, well I don’t know when, always talking bout somebody, just cuz you can see, well guess what, I can feel, and I feels pretty soft myself. Humm!”
“Now, now everybody, we here to talk about My heart, my heart has gone missing and I’m not feeling…”
“Oh what’s the big deal about feeling anyway, touch is better,” shouted arms. “See, I can wrap my arms around you and touch you, I can tickle you and make you laugh and squeeze you and make you cry, just like I did when My heart was here.”
“No you can’t, because you got to have a reason why, and only My heart knew the reason for laughing, the reason for crying, the reason for feeling, only My heart tells me what to feel.”
Arms folded and shut up.
“Excuse me, excuse me, I’ve got something to say,” Mouth interrupted. “I don’t really see all the fuss about My heart missing. We can certainly function without her, now can’t we? We are a… well run, oiled machine, capable of sustaining ourselves, Brain you tell me when to eat, I eat, you tell me, most times when to talk, I talk, you instruct legs when to walk, feet where to step, hands when to hold, arms when to swing, nose when to smell, eyes where to look, and ass, well, you know what you do…anyway you keep us altogether. We will be fine without My heart. I mean we all know for the longest time it was her that kept us in constant discourse, always falling for this guy or that guy, getting her heart broken, time and time and time again, then running back here working poor eyes to death, have she no shame, and me, well once I didn’t get to eat for days. Ask poor Tummy, how he feels about her, all that backed up gas, which caused Ass to act a fool, and you know how foolish and garish he can be…”
“Quit running at the mouth Mouth,” Ass responded, “Is that all you know how to do? Shut it up!”
“Well, I’ll be!”
“Yeah, we know, you’re a loud mouth, a BIG MOUTH! And I’m getting sick and tired of hearing it,” Ear’s flared. “Now listen up everybody, I hear everything, and I heard what happened to My Heart. She didn’t just leave, she gave up, she sacrificed her chance at love for the rest of us. Yep, that’s right. She knew what she was doing to ya…you Eyes, and you, nose, not to mention you Tummy. She saw and felt the pain she put you guys through and she decided that enough was enough. Tough broad that Heart, never heard a tougher one, real standup GAL. You hear me, she was a real stand up GAL.”
“Well, what we gonna do? Eyes wanted to know…you know, without My Heart?”
Brain, the smartest of them all, thought and thought, and then said, “Nothing, we are going to do everything and nothing, we are gonna rest, and maybe when this thing blows over she will return, until then, we rest.”
The entire body was quiet now, no one made a move, no tears, no laughter, no chatter, the eyes closed, legs curled up under her, arms wrapped around her and mouth yawned, together they lay down and slept and slept and slept, and dreamed about the one day when MY heart returned.
The message – take care of your heart, your heart is not to give to any and everyone…for when your heart leaves, nothing feels the same, nothing is what you feel.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
“Paul, you know damn well, that John ain’t bit mo’ thinkin’ ‘bout no GED than that damn dog o’ his.”
“That maybe so, ‘Vonne, but these kids need somebody to keep talkin’ it up. Maybe somethin’ will get into their heads. You know how wild we were at his age. Who knows what turned me around out them streets.”
“Chil’, will you go get me a beer? I got some sodas & juice in there, too if y’all want somethin'. I think I got some cookies & chips in ‘ere, too. Bring 'em out here.”
I stood up, “Daddy, you want somethin' to drink?”
He glanced up and grinned at me, “Yea, I’ll take a beer, too, please. Thanks, Susie.”
“Paul, I’m tellin’ you, these damn kids ain’t like we were. They ain’t got respect for nobody. Yea, we did our li’l shit, but they on a whole ‘nother level. We wasn’t gettin’ locked up every time you turn aroun'. These damn kids'll shoot you as quick as speak to you.”
“’Vonne, kids are still kids. They just want guidance. Tha’s why they keep gettin’ locked up. Parents ain’t guidin’ ‘em, so they going up ‘gainst the other authorities. I still think kids want to know that everybody ain’t gave up on ‘em.”
“A’ight, Paul. You keep your faith in ‘em. But I’m just saying you betta watch yo’ back and ya damn wallet ‘roun’ ‘em.... Thank ya, baby.” Aunt Yvonne reached up to take the beer I extended to her.
I handed Daddy his beer, put the snacks on the low coffee table in the center of the small living room, then reclaimed my seat on the sofa. I munched chips and listened to my elders banter back and forth about the future of my cousin, John.
“I know what you sayin’. I ain’t completely out of touch, 'Vonne. I figure if John don’t call me ‘bout his GED I ain’t gonna keep houndin' him or come lookin’ for him. But if he do call me, what harm is there in helpin’ the boy? It ain’t no skin off my back to drive him to the city college and help him in enroll in the program.”
“Shit, you betta sit there and take every damn class with him. That boy don’t do nothin' like he ‘sposed to. He don’t show up nowhere regular unless it involves drinkin’ a forty, smokin’ a blunt or a damn dog to fight.”
...an excerpt of a work in progress by The Writeous1
*click on image for source.
To come over to read and to write...
I am enjoying the tour, and loving the diverse talents of the writers...
I am planning to do something,
How does he know I love him...
'Cause I make sure I tell him...
With just words?
Sometimes I just prove and show...
Actions speaks louder than words...
I love him so deep, he speaking in tongues and conjugating verbs...
One might ask, is this love new,
It sure is boo,
Been loving him for thirty years,
And with joy he still brings me to tears,
Every time he touches me...
I feel oooooo weeeeeee...
Love and Blessings,
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
If this is too explicit please dont hesitate to remove it---
Her husband was in rare form this morning. She looked over at the television and watched as a dark-skinned woman no more than twenty five years old squatted between the legs of a muscular dark skinned man. She watched as the woman guided the velvety head of the man’s stiffness between her lips cooing loudly while slapping the freshly shaved cunt of a pretty Latin woman. The Latin woman pumped her hips as each blow landed as evidence of her excitement escaped her honey colored folds and ran down her slit. Taj was mesmerized by the scene and absently slipped his hand into his boxers to stroke himself all the while offering commentary on the performance.
“Damn baby, come here and check this out. This is one of the good ones. Where did you find this?”
“Online. You can find damn near anything online these days boy. And no thanks, I don’t need to see it and you need to be getting dressed for work right about now.”
“Baby, for real, come here and let your man get at that.” Taj removed his hand from his boxers and sprang up off the bed to grab his wife’s breasts roughly from behind. “Come on now, lemme just smell what’s in the pot, even if you wont let me have a taste of what’s cooking baby.” He was speaking too loud for this time of the morning and about subjects best suited for when the kids were out of the house completely.
“Shush boy, the kids will hear us. And Stop because we don’t have time for this right now.” Monica tried to push past her husband to get back into the bathroom and finish her morning ritual before getting the kids up for school.
“C’mon now baby. You know you want to, smelling all good this morning. Shit you smell real interested from where I’m standing. Please baby, I’ll be quick. I promise.” He grabbed her again and buried his nose in the crook of her neck pulling the sensitive skin between his lips, nipping her with his teeth. His strong calloused hands moved rhythmically under her short robe and over her warm curves before resting on her full bottom possessively. He squeezed her firmly and pulled her flush against muscular chest. She felt him bucking against her belly. He placed firm kisses along her neck and shoulder continuing his rhythmic rocking against her. When he pulled an earlobe into his mouth and sucked gently she was done protesting in body but continued verbally.
“Mmm, boy, for real, we don’t have time. So—“
He blocked her protest with a heart-stopping kiss. His hands began their roving once again. The thick pads of his thumb played roughly over her now swollen nipples. He knew she liked to have her breasts attended to thoroughly with his heavy hands. She liked his roughness over her soft skin and he loved to oblige. He broke the kiss and stared into her brown eyes as his lips just grazed hers in a tease. “Monny, baby, don’t you know how I always want you?” Taj’s hands continued their dance over her body as he took in puffs of air before continuing. “When I am away from you, girl, all I can think about is the next time I am gonna see you baby. You’re a good woman and you got your man all messed up this morning baby so I’m sorry but you are gonna have to deal with this right quick. You understand baby?” He gripped her tighter and she felt him fill completely against her.
Whoa, Monica thought to herself; he had a serious jones on this morning. Although it made her a little anxious she had to admit that she loved it right about now. His attentions continued and she moved into them more eagerly. Her desires got the best of her and she pushed down his boxers and gripped him tightly in her hands. He pushed back against her nearly out of breath and decidedly off rhythm. He growled in his throat and nuzzled her neck, nipping and licking in turn. She knew that this was the point of no return and they didn’t have a lot of time so she made sure that the process would be quick and eventful for them both.
“Okay daddy, give it to me quick and dirty.” She was out of the robe, in the bed, and on her knees and elbows before he could say anything. She reached between her legs and roughly stroked herself, looking over her shoulder at his shocked but highly aroused expression. “Let’s go grown man!” She was surprised to hear her own words come out as an excited whisper. Desperate. She liked what it did to him and she loved letting him know that it was her who couldn’t wait right about now. “You gonna fuck it or stare at it?” She pulled her sticky fingers into her mouth and moaned. Her question was nearly a growl and she watched as her words made his cock bob evenly and heavy before him in response to her question. “Damn this pussy is wet,” she slid a finger in and out of her mouth, “and sweet as hell. You want some of this?” She dipped her fingers back in her flooding valley and bucked back and forth. “You can have it if you promise to hit the bottom.” She licked her juices off her fingers again and watched the beads of sweat form on his forehead. Was it her or did his dick get just a bit thicker and stiffer? She was ready to find out and almost shouted at him.
“Let’s do this shit Taj. Come tear this up baby!”
He dropped to his knees behind her and planted a hand on a firm and full cheek, steadying himself with his free hand on the footboard of the California king bed. He thrust full depth so hard that she made a sound that let him know that she understood who was in control. He gave her a moment to get ready for him. He felt her walls contract and adjust and knew it was time put in some work when she able to speak again.
“Damn your dick is perfect I swear”, she panted. I can feel this shit in my throat daddy, damn!” She had to drop her forehead to the bed just to steady herself which also gave him just a little more of her to fill. When he pressed forward to get it all she gripped the covers and buried her face in the mattress to keep from screaming as she came the first time. He let her work through the last spasm with a smile. She was hot and slick now. Good and ready for some serious tough love. All that shit talking had made him nearly throw her ass on the floor and pound her hot box until she clawed his back called him God. This position was better though. He could and would grip her hips and work her from behind until she dropped to her stomach and then it would really get good. She would be trapped beneath him; taking him full force until he was ready to get up. Yeah, she had a little lesson to learn about making him beg and then acting like he was the one who late to the damn party.
“Oh you want this shit beat up huh? Want this wrecked this morning huh, girl?” That’s what she liked about their rough sex, the way he talked to her made her wetter by the second.
To Be Continued....
posted by Femigog The Sable Eklektik
Slip my hands in and pull out your tool
I'm already drooling as I visualize how
The next few minutes will unfold
I've been told I'm rather bold
When it comes to being oral
Very thorough with my treatment
As I sit here on my knees
Eager to please
You tower over me
With your legs spread widely
All the power over me
Found within your hardened masculinity
I'm hypnotized by it's enlarged head
Dreading the moment all of this ends
Spending time getting reacquainted with it's silky feel
Stealing furtive licks on the third eye
As it spys on me, I can hear your quiet sigh
Standing, I fold my hands upon your chest
I take off your vest and whisper softly
For you to undress yourself of the rest
I can feel you breathing softly on my shoulder
I know it's about time for me to get a little bolder
Pushing you so you fall sprawling across the bed
Settling myself in between your muscled legs
I smile, knowing my appetite's about to be fed
Gonna leave your sanity crippled in my stead
I close my eyes as I slip you in between my soft lips
Flicking my tongue across the swollen veins of ya dick
Tricking you into thinking I won't take it all in
Grinning as I get ready to begin
Engulfing you down to your pubic base, tickling my tonsils
As I glance at your face, it's twisted pose
Showing me your sudden fall from grace
The spaces between your intakes of breath
Have become shorter as you near this sweet death
I'm at once inspired as I cradle your jewels
The silken sacs holding your sexual fuel
I can feel them tremble as the fluid moves through them
I swallow and suck in attempts to soothe them
They feel the vibrations as I beginning humming
I can see the sensation's almost got you cumming
As your hips rise and fall on the sheets with a thump
I sense your rod pulsate, and then it jumps
So I grab it and hold on to it steady
I can tell by it's heat that you're almost ready
As I hear your muffled groans, coupled in with my soft moans
My clit feels neglected, so I reach down to protect it
The cream from within me is gathered on the sheets
A puddle at the juncture where my chocolate thighs meet
Your breathing is ragged, composure is jagged
You twist to escape from my constant tongue tagging
My assault's unrelenting, as I remember your consenting
To this soft killing that's now got you ascending
You're grabbing my hair as you lose your control
My constant dick stroking has taken it's toll
You strangle out, 'faster',and I choose to comply
As I squeeze at the base, and look up on the sly
Your eyes are closed shut, and your face is contorted
It's covered with sweat, but my view is distorted
By the pillow you reached for to cover your mouth
As your ab muscles clench, and you let out a shout
'I'm bout ta cum baby' is your sudden announcement
I squeeze your jewels softly and continue mouth bouncing
Your thighs start to tighten, there's a momentary hush
Then all of a sudden, I feel the cum rush
From the bottom of your balls to the base of your dick
And right through the red, swollen head of your stick
Then the creamy stream hits the back of my throat
But I've done this before, so I know I won't choke
It's coming in waves, and I swallow it all
And during this time I'm still squeezing the balls
To make sure I get each and every last drop
I continue to suck, cuz I don't want to stop
Your body is flinching all over the place
And the pillow continues to cover your face
Your toes are now curled, and your thighs are now trembling
I can hear through the pillow that you've begun mumbling
Your rod has now softened, as I've sucked it dry
It's spent, and you're bent, as you let out a sigh
Cuz it's never been worshipped so thoroughly before
As you take off the pillow and whisper out 'MORE'
The first full day of Summer.
The longest day of the year.
The last memory I had of the alcohol soaked evening before was the sound of Jabe and Marcus cackling incessantly in between tokes while lounging on the deck. That was only three hours earlier. The morning was foggy, as most mornings are during early summer on Cape Cod. The fog is especially thick in Chatham where we were renting a house for two weeks for our clients with mental retardation. I have been organizing vacations for my clients for years. These trips are usually the highlight of the year for these clients whose usual day consists of: waking up, being shipped off to a day program to seal envelopes or break sticks under the guise of having a meaningful "job", come home, eat dinner, go to bed. The staff also look forward to these trips. Staff usually make slightly more than the person who mans the counter at Dunkin Donuts with 100 times the responsibility. With most of my staff being poor, this is usually the only chance they have to spend a week in a house on the Cape.
Lying in bed listening to the sound alternate between the lapping of the waves and the pounding in my head I had a decision to make. I could lie there and hope to fall back asleep, knowing that we had a full day ahead sightseeing in Provincetown and going to a reggae show at the Beachcomber in Wellfleet. I could also go down to my car, drive five minutes to Chatham Seaside Links and walk nine holes in hopes of sweating out some toxins and clearing up the fogginess. I teed off around 6AM.
The Seaside links is a small, hilly golf course a couple hundred yards from Chatham Harbor. I couldn't see the water through the soupiness. First hole. I striped my ball down the middle of the short par four. I found my ball two feet from the green. I chipped my ball to six inches then tapped in for a birdie. As I bent over to retrieve my ball from the hole I violently heaved. I turned around instinctively to see if anyone saw my dry heaving, but there was nothing to see, it was covered in the soup. The next eight holes were a blur. I dragged myself to the car and lamented my decision not to stay in bed.
I returned to the house at 7:30 AM, no one was up yet. I had expected Tim, one of the staff who was not completely wasted the night before, being the designated sober person, to be up getting breakfast ready. I threw a couple pound of bacon on the griddle and made a pot of coffee. Like ghouls from Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video, staff and clients alike were drawn from their crypts by the smells emanating from the kitchen. Everyone ate breakfast on the deck, replaying the previous evening’s events.
All were in agreement that the highlight of the evening was when Tim (who is a cross between Barry White and Urkel) smooth-talked the hottest girl in the bar to dance with each of our clients. Dancing with the girl was the highlight of the evening for the clients. The highlight of the evening for the staff was confronting some young posers, primped and tanned, who were making some off color jokes loud enough for us to hear at the expense of our "men".
"I can't believe you are jealous of some retarded guys" I said to one of the youngsters as I stepped directly into his line of sight. Marcus added "Yo Sully, that guy couldn't even talk to that girl, never mind touch her" as the hottie was spinning one of our guys around, swing dance style. The kid took an abbreviated step toward me, but must've thought twice after sizing up the situation. He had six plus of his buddies with him. I had me, Marcus, a hostile black man in an all white bar. Jabe, who, when not working for me, was a bouncer who actually looked forward to tossing drunks out onto their heads. Sammy, a thick necked, mild mannered Puerto Rican who can bench 300 lbs and Tim who still had a menacing stare from his days as a pimp in Springfield back in the eighties. As I stepped in to give the young man a firm "talking to" a girl that was with their group started yelling at the youngster. "You aah such a fukin' losah...those retah ded guys aah wicked cute". By this time the bouncers had taken notice of the scene. Having worked the door myself I commiserated with the big man on how tough it was dealing with drunks and explained the situation. He had a "talking to" with the youngster. He and his crew left, embarrassed and defeated.
After breakfast everyone went back to bed to rest up for the day.
The next few hours were a blur. I tried to sleep down at the beach, but the sound of kids playing and seagulls squawking awoke me each time I started to fade. At 12:30 PM we loaded up and headed 30 minutes north to Provincetown. Sammy was driving the van along with Tim and our "men". Me, Jabe and Marcus followed in my Bonneville. Tim and Sammy were the designated sober people today as they would be driving with the clients. We cracked open some beers in my car. Jabe took a percocet I had hanging around since my wife had surgery weeks earlier. Within ten minutes he asked if the car was upsidedown.
The afternoon in Provencetown was spectacular. The fog had burned off by 2 PM and the sky had a hazy blue hue. We ate, shopped and people watched. Me, Jabe and Marcus went to a bar on the water down by MacMillian Wharf . The rest went to get Ice Cream. We left the bar after a couple of Bud Lights. On the way out of the place a dude walking in looked me up and down and said "mmm, hmmm, yummy". Gay or not, its nice to be appreciated. I gave him a high five and caught up with Jabe and Marcus who were moving quickly toward the town center.
We arrived at "The Beachcomber" around 5 PM. The "comah" is located on a sandy bluff about 75 feet above Cahoon Hollow beach overlooking the Altantic Ocean. The haze and heat we endured while exploring P-town had been replaced by crisp, cooler air fueled by a slight on-shore breeze. By this time Tim had joined me, Marcus and Jabe as "off the clock" leaving Sammy in charge of the men. Sammy and the men headed inside the club while the rest of us hiked down the steep path to the beach. Down by the water Marcus pulled out a "J" and after numerous attempts trying to light it in the breeze got it sparked. We sat in a semi-circle looking out at the water and decided that we were currently in the best location on the planet. With a new found spring in our step we glided back up the path toward the sound of the reggae music.
"Yellowman", a Jamaican reggae star known for having yellow hair, light skin and half his face missing from cancer, was starting his first set. We entered through the outdoor bar section of the club and could see the yellow one swaying to the ska beat on stage while the audience was bouncing in rhythm. Marcus and I headed into the sea of bodies moving and grinding while Jabe and Tim opted for the cool breeze and openness of the outdoor bar. The smell of sweat, booze and ganja was an intoxicating mix; I was lost in the hypnotic beat. As I exited the dance hall to the outdoor bar I could see the beginnings of the full moon peak above the horizon. I gathered the whole group and we went to the edge of the bluff to watch the moon rise. Once the moon escaped from the horizon it appeared to sit on top of the water, floating in the waves. A tanker heading out to sea appeared below the moon as it headed up into the darkening evening skies. We all went back to the club where Yellowman was intensely thrashing about the stage as if he were having a seizure. The crowd pulsed as he wailed on.
The show ended about 10PM. Sammy gathered the men and headed back to the beach house. The rest of us lingered at the outdoor bar opting for fruity, girly drinks with enough sugar to temporarily neutralize the sedative effect of the day's drinking. Now that the show was over the outdoor bar became crowded. Bodies pressed against one another, some cute and inviting, others just sweaty and drunk. We maintained a semi-circle at one end of the bar looking out over a dune. The moon had risen just over the dune and the wispy dune grass was silhouetted against the luminous sphere. We again decided that this was the best location on earth.
At 10:45 we decided to head back to the beach house. At the Orleans rotary I decided that instead of heading south off the rotary toward Chatham we would head 25 minutes west toward Hyannis. There would still be some action there, even on a Sunday night. The bars in Hyannis weren't as promising as I had anticipated. We drove down Main Street, slowly, assessing the possibilities. After cruising Main Street twice we decided to head to a bar in neighboring Yarmouth that would not have the excitement we were looking for, but would be a place we could get a final drink before heading back to the beach house. It was now midnight and we had not had a drink, except for sharing two beers we had stashed in the car, since leaving the "Comah".
We entered "Molly's" and immediately bellied up to the bar. Ben was there again. Ben had probably tended bar there every day since the place opened. He spoke in a thick nasally Irish accent having had his nose broken a number of times as semi-successful prize fighter in his youth. His claim-to-fame was fighting on a Hagler under card. "What'll it be fellers" lilted the brawler. The black guys drank Johnnie Walker. The white irish-american guys had a Guinness. The bar was empty except for a table with two guys and two girls. Jabe struck up a conversation with one of the girls. She was cute. She had smooth, milky skin dotted with a few freckles. Her strawberry-blonde hair was the perfect complement to her complexion. I detected a mild brouge.
At first there was lighthearted banter flowing between Jabe and the girl. At some point while the rest of us talked amoungst ourselves at the bar their conversation turned . She, not being as drunk as we, mistook Jabe's sarcasm for arrogance and rebuffed his advances. Jabe had his ego bruised and all it took was a sideways look from one of the guys to set him off. "What are you looking at" he barked at the guy. "Not much" said the guy. I immediately headed toward the car knowing what was to come next. As I pulled the car around Marcus ran up to my drivers side window "Sull, pop the trunk. You got a crow bar or a golf club in there?". "Get in" I bellowed like a father who is disgusted by his sons childish behavior. Tim appeared on the passenger side door and got in. We pulled up to the front door just in time to see Jabe face to face with the guy. Jabe was barking at him, then suddenly spit his gum in the guys face and walked away. A sense of relief washed over me as he poured himself into the backseat of my Bonneville. "I'm too old for this shit guys" I said as we took a right out of the parking lot for our 20 minute ride down Route 28 toward Chatham.
The ride back to Chatham was dead quiet. Marcus and Jabe were passed out in the back seat, while Tim and I stared at the road ahead. We returned to the beach house at about 1:30 AM. Tim disappeared into his room in the basement. Jabe and Marcus headed out to the deck to smoke and recap the day’s events. I settled down into my bed. From the deck floated the pungent smell of smoke and the sounds of hushed laughter.
Nobody can reward a strong, patient sistah like her man can.
Only a Brother can…
…walk that proud bounce on his toes strut as if he’s about to leap into the heavens (or is he already walking there?)
Only a Brother can…
…wink & smile that smile only for you that no one else noticed
but you suddenly feel as if he gently grazed his fingertips all over you body and you’re tingling & smiling all over yourself as if you were caught in a surprise Spring rain shower and it’s …. S-uh-oo refreshing.
Only a Brother can…
…enter a room and suddenly transform the décor AND the lighting.
Only a Brother can…
…pluck you from a crowd like a flower simply by locking his beautifully intense eyes onto yours.
Only a Brother can…
…touch you without touching you with his powerful presence.
….breathe his warm chocolate breath down your neck & cause you to melt into a completely relaxed state.
…touch you feather lightly with those wonderfully strong hands from your toes to your nose & deeply into your soul.
….explore your mind, body AND soul ever so carefully and gently as if putting together an intricately fragile puzzle.
…awaken you from a DEEP love-he-induced slumber with strokes so pleasing you smile and murmur, “Good mornin’
…it must be mornin’ cuz I feel like singin’ Halleluyah!!”
© by C.A. Paige 1998
* would love to give credit for that image - but it was cut out of a magazine. If you know the photographer or better still the model - please leave info in comments. Until then it's borrowed from an unknown source.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
You can't count her
She's in and out of my life
In and out of my head
like an unfaithful lover
with too many gentleman callers
She doesn't care what I'm doing when she shows up;
the activity nor the time
But she demands my full attention
Causing the world to fade into irrelevance
Entranced, I welcome her back
but every time
"Where have you been?!?"
She never answers...directly
but always says, "Let's just focus on the here and now...
the you and I"
Sometimes she's got love on her mind
So we talk of flowers, birds and butterflies,
devotion and future past lives
Sometimes it's about hidden pain,
sorrows, hurts and traumatic experiences
and we cry together
Then sometimes she shows up in Victoria's Secret
and not much of that
But now days I try to guide her around the fallen angel in me...
I said I try
And then she's gone
So there I sit
with her scent still clinging to my nostrils
her energy still dancing over my body
emotions she dragged out of me
still reverberating in my soul
I absently wonder when she'll be back again
as I gather my breath
She breaths from so close, so far,
"When it's time."
©SojournerG 2007All rights reserved
Intertwined in a lasting embrace
Makes your love come down
Push, pull, grind
Glance into lovers eyes
Touch and Go
The taste lingers
Beckoning for more.
Some say the kiss is overrated
Essential in my mind
Gets it hot
Wets the spot
Stiffens and tingles
as if absolutely no one is there
at least not enough to truly care
in the end
i completely realized how it was only me myself and i
and i wanted to cry
but the tears refused to fall
as if i was hopelessly doomed to experience no healing process at all
simply a life filled with nothing but great pain and sorrow
then i thought about it
there is always tomorrow