Archive | February 2014

Conservatory of Flowers

Sitting in the conservatory of flowers
Smelling the wild things grow
Mist is moistly dripping
While outside the wind did blow

Sitting amongst the flowers
While my lover learns to play
Rain continues falling
And here is where I’ll stay

Soon she will rejoin me
Under the roof of glass
And I am gladly waiting
As pleasant time does pass

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Loaded Question

Pain, Pain, Go away

Come again some other day

Actually, no.

Please, don’t come back

I hate being disabled.

I look so sturdy

I’m untempered glass

Wondering which hammers will fall

Nerves?

Joints?

Muscles?

That Damocles Sword named depression?

“How are you?” is a loaded question.

No one believes me anyway.

Reflections on being put in a Box Tie

CN: kink

Slowly the ropes get tighter
And dig in more
Such a wonderful pressure

With each pass through
The lines vibrate
And hum across me

She laughs behind me
“Don’t worry, it’s not an evil rope top laugh.”
I’m relieved and. . . disappointed?

She says she’s quite a sadist
I’m intrigued but don’t pursue
Some things can wait

I strain against my tie
Not to escape
I like where I am

A feeling of trust
In consent bound space
She captures me again on film

The party is ending
Soon time to go
And be loosed from my bonds

Ropes hum again
Slowly relaxing
A most subtle pleasure

Hemp runs against
Sensitive places
Before it hits the floor

Completely unbound now
But marks to remember
And scent that lingers behind.

The Poetry Event

I took my shoes off
At the poetry event
Starry Night socks against a bare wooden floor

We leave early
She’s in pain tonight
A rare event for her
The poetry’s terrible tonight anyway

Clippings from my memory
A life filled with pains
My broken down body
Still, my socks felt good against the floor

The socks I'm referring to.

The socks I’m referring to.