*in re-reading the following extended version of this blog, I found I liked to take the first and last phrases of each lover's verse, and so made an abbreviated poem out of it*
I welcomed Egypt to the ranks last night... and it was a peaceful night’s sleep, cradled in the arms of the Pharaoh’s grandson.
I once stood at the border of Egypt, in the town of Eilat, at the southern tip of Israel... we never made it across that border - into Egypt, nor into happily ever after.
Mongolia came as a surprise... I can’t say I helped to solve any of their internal crises, but did seem to revive the Motherland Party in a new and most progressive fashion.
Argentina called on me to instruct two of their finest... their tears have me adopting “Don’t Cy For Me Argentina” as a personal anthem.
Italy, ahhh, Italy.... Mt Vesuvius erupted thrice.
I will say this about Mexicans:... they just love to fuck.
The British men I have served proved to be very enthusiastic and adept lovers... and truth be told, I’m still a sucker for accents.
Columbia offered me an interesting proposition:... white light magic always works better than white powder.
Mmm... that reminds me of the Native American I encountered in my youth... I shall take up singing the chakra meditation of the Cherokee people, and endeavor to return to the tribes one day with better news of justice and peace.
Does a French Canadian count?... “Je vous envoie mon amour, mon ami, et j’espere que nous reverrons dans cette vie, ou dans l’autre...”
There were some Pacific islanders I tended to long ago... I learned some valuable lessons about international trading.
And now I look forward to the Tican arriving three weeks from today... and when it’s time to go... it’s time to go.
Showing posts with label lovers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lovers. Show all posts
Friday, May 20, 2011
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
2010: Plague of the Penis (P.O.P.!!!)
I have written and rewritten this piece several times now, and it continues to come up in conversation, and I am constantly urged to post it. So, although I'm a little nervous, here goes...
2010 has been coined as the year of the "Plague of the Penis," affectionately referred to as P.O.P. What does this mean?
Well, several things actually. (Now, bear in mind that I am trying to articulate to the best of my abilities what I have experienced on a personal level, as well as what I hear from other women in my circle and surrounding circles.)
Let's begin with me, on a personal level. The Plague began like this:
I became a single woman for the first time in decades this year. I am, for the most part, in excellent shape, doing incredible things in my life, self-sufficient, enjoying a great deal of camaraderie and entertainment, etc etc. The goal for this new found single-hood was to, in a manner of speaking, play it like a man. I am NOT AT ALL interested in a relationship at this time, and have expressed this clearly with friends and potential lovers. I thought it best to find a few good lovers to keep abuzz in my hive, keeping it varied and interesting, and to keep me enlivened and appreciated in different ways. Let's just say, after all I'd been through in the Department of Love/Hell, I felt ready to just be lavished in affection from several directions.
The outcome thus far has been as such: a complete and utter disappointment. Had I been spoiled my entire life with choice lovers and am now paying the price? It would appear so, as the fumblings and bumblings of potentials have been seriously underwhelming, in the worst way. Do I need to start teaching a course? Should I have been a sex therapist instead of a singer? Or is THIS what other women have been enduring and dealing with over the years? I am shocked, men, and extremely let down. One of the phrases I have coined this year is "Just shut up and listen to a woman!" We're trying to tell you what to do, because you obviously are headed in the wrong direction. P.O.P.!!!
So, that's my first plague. Here comes the second:
So, at long last, after several failed attempts, I find a man who knows EXACTLY what to do. I mean, it's as if he read the handbook to my body, my skin, my loins and heart and knew every right word to say, every correct way to touch, to kiss - ah! kill me now for the goddamn kiss of perfection on my lips! - and so on and so forth. It was my hallelujah moment of the year! I mean, I reconsidered my whole plan: maybe a small bevvy of lovers just wasn't meant to be, but one GOOD one was freaking fantastic!
We spent a solid month hanging. Chatting online almost daily, sending texts, calling, meeting up - even with friends. Bringing me into his world, stepping into mine. He was fresh out of a relationship- PERFECT! Figured he wouldn't be pushing that card, which still remains an uninteresting option for my life. Everything was ON, hot, feelin' it, there... until, he decides to hang out with some other chick! Okay, all right, that's cool. I mean, I originally wanted a few to juggle myself, but no - he comes out of one relationship, and jumps into another, leaving me stranded with no reserves! WTF?
In so many of the relationships I've endured, and my friends have endured, the commonality had often been these men that want to have their cake and eat it too. So, after endless heartbreaks and being cheated on and hanging with dudes that will never commit, many of us women thought we had finally gotten smart: cool, we'll just play by those rules instead, and enjoy the freedom and (try to) avoid the bullshit that we'd been swallowing by the shovelful. But now, what's THIS bulllshit? Are you telling me that you could choose to have passionate, unbridled, unattached sex with a goddess and you're saying NO? P.O.P.!!!
Yet, there's more, and here's where I'm paraphrasing for others, so hope I express it well.
Third plague is this: you know, guys, women like to get off too. We have needs, we like sex... and on a somewhat regular basis is preferred. So, I'm hearing from many women this summer about lovers they have, whom they enjoy, with whom they have also clearly expressed no desire for relationship status, but want to be able to make booty-calls, much in the same way men have been doing to us since we gave them our "apples" to begin with.
Yet, these men seem so overly confident in their prowess, their personality, whatever "gifts" they think they have, that they simply cannot BELIEVE a woman would want them only for their penis. So, they call it off, playing the "Well, we've been hangin' out a couple times a week, and it just seems like you want more" card. Uh, NO. More DICK maybe, but nothing more, be assured. To no avail... dude man just cannot comprehend that he is in the best situation possible, where he gets to come over, get his rocks off, go home and not have to worry about a thing. P.O.P.!!!
The list goes on... I have a few friends who have been single for quite some time, and are seriously going on MONTHS sans action. This is not acceptable. I love how guys will often remark, "Well, it's so easy for girls to get laid - all they have to do is go out and they've got options galore waiting for them." No, no, no, my little friends. This is not true. I mean, I suppose it is in the sense that there typically ARE those guys that are hanging around, expressing interest, and you know you COULD fuck them if you wanted... but you already know you don't want them, or would have bedded them already!
I'm talking about the same thrill that you guys get off on: meeting that person that's fresh and new and interesting, even if they're not exactly your type, but still.... someone you could get off on just making the rounds to third base even. I've been saying all summer, I need to make some t-shirts quoting one of my poems: "If I want you, just shut up and fuck me." Would that make it easier? Would you men out there at the clubs and bars, going around the lakes, walking your dogs, standing in line at whatever checkout, etc etc, even appreciate such a direct approach? You act like you would, but in the end, I think most of you would wimp out. P.O.P.!!!
I held counsel with a few women last night about these issues, and more. We're getting real serious over here. Talks of a Federation to end all this confusing sexual melodrama are being discussed. I am a busy person, I have other work and items requiring my attention and energies. But how am I supposed to stay focused when I am so hard up? I can't even believe I'm writing this, or that this is an actual issue in my life. Let's blame it on my vanity, totally, but I don't think I'm the kind of girl that should be so completely unsatisfied. And as for my fellow sisters, they deserve to be equally serviced as well!
Men of the world, we must sit down, if need be. Maybe you just don't get it. Maybe your machismo will forever need to have control over these things. I don't know. But you all are missing out BIG TIME. And if you think we women are scary during our moontime, just wait til we've all gone months without sex. It's about to get f*ing craaaazzzaaaaayyyy up in here.
2010 has been coined as the year of the "Plague of the Penis," affectionately referred to as P.O.P. What does this mean?
Well, several things actually. (Now, bear in mind that I am trying to articulate to the best of my abilities what I have experienced on a personal level, as well as what I hear from other women in my circle and surrounding circles.)
Let's begin with me, on a personal level. The Plague began like this:
I became a single woman for the first time in decades this year. I am, for the most part, in excellent shape, doing incredible things in my life, self-sufficient, enjoying a great deal of camaraderie and entertainment, etc etc. The goal for this new found single-hood was to, in a manner of speaking, play it like a man. I am NOT AT ALL interested in a relationship at this time, and have expressed this clearly with friends and potential lovers. I thought it best to find a few good lovers to keep abuzz in my hive, keeping it varied and interesting, and to keep me enlivened and appreciated in different ways. Let's just say, after all I'd been through in the Department of Love/Hell, I felt ready to just be lavished in affection from several directions.
The outcome thus far has been as such: a complete and utter disappointment. Had I been spoiled my entire life with choice lovers and am now paying the price? It would appear so, as the fumblings and bumblings of potentials have been seriously underwhelming, in the worst way. Do I need to start teaching a course? Should I have been a sex therapist instead of a singer? Or is THIS what other women have been enduring and dealing with over the years? I am shocked, men, and extremely let down. One of the phrases I have coined this year is "Just shut up and listen to a woman!" We're trying to tell you what to do, because you obviously are headed in the wrong direction. P.O.P.!!!
So, that's my first plague. Here comes the second:
So, at long last, after several failed attempts, I find a man who knows EXACTLY what to do. I mean, it's as if he read the handbook to my body, my skin, my loins and heart and knew every right word to say, every correct way to touch, to kiss - ah! kill me now for the goddamn kiss of perfection on my lips! - and so on and so forth. It was my hallelujah moment of the year! I mean, I reconsidered my whole plan: maybe a small bevvy of lovers just wasn't meant to be, but one GOOD one was freaking fantastic!
We spent a solid month hanging. Chatting online almost daily, sending texts, calling, meeting up - even with friends. Bringing me into his world, stepping into mine. He was fresh out of a relationship- PERFECT! Figured he wouldn't be pushing that card, which still remains an uninteresting option for my life. Everything was ON, hot, feelin' it, there... until, he decides to hang out with some other chick! Okay, all right, that's cool. I mean, I originally wanted a few to juggle myself, but no - he comes out of one relationship, and jumps into another, leaving me stranded with no reserves! WTF?
In so many of the relationships I've endured, and my friends have endured, the commonality had often been these men that want to have their cake and eat it too. So, after endless heartbreaks and being cheated on and hanging with dudes that will never commit, many of us women thought we had finally gotten smart: cool, we'll just play by those rules instead, and enjoy the freedom and (try to) avoid the bullshit that we'd been swallowing by the shovelful. But now, what's THIS bulllshit? Are you telling me that you could choose to have passionate, unbridled, unattached sex with a goddess and you're saying NO? P.O.P.!!!
Yet, there's more, and here's where I'm paraphrasing for others, so hope I express it well.
Third plague is this: you know, guys, women like to get off too. We have needs, we like sex... and on a somewhat regular basis is preferred. So, I'm hearing from many women this summer about lovers they have, whom they enjoy, with whom they have also clearly expressed no desire for relationship status, but want to be able to make booty-calls, much in the same way men have been doing to us since we gave them our "apples" to begin with.
Yet, these men seem so overly confident in their prowess, their personality, whatever "gifts" they think they have, that they simply cannot BELIEVE a woman would want them only for their penis. So, they call it off, playing the "Well, we've been hangin' out a couple times a week, and it just seems like you want more" card. Uh, NO. More DICK maybe, but nothing more, be assured. To no avail... dude man just cannot comprehend that he is in the best situation possible, where he gets to come over, get his rocks off, go home and not have to worry about a thing. P.O.P.!!!
The list goes on... I have a few friends who have been single for quite some time, and are seriously going on MONTHS sans action. This is not acceptable. I love how guys will often remark, "Well, it's so easy for girls to get laid - all they have to do is go out and they've got options galore waiting for them." No, no, no, my little friends. This is not true. I mean, I suppose it is in the sense that there typically ARE those guys that are hanging around, expressing interest, and you know you COULD fuck them if you wanted... but you already know you don't want them, or would have bedded them already!
I'm talking about the same thrill that you guys get off on: meeting that person that's fresh and new and interesting, even if they're not exactly your type, but still.... someone you could get off on just making the rounds to third base even. I've been saying all summer, I need to make some t-shirts quoting one of my poems: "If I want you, just shut up and fuck me." Would that make it easier? Would you men out there at the clubs and bars, going around the lakes, walking your dogs, standing in line at whatever checkout, etc etc, even appreciate such a direct approach? You act like you would, but in the end, I think most of you would wimp out. P.O.P.!!!
I held counsel with a few women last night about these issues, and more. We're getting real serious over here. Talks of a Federation to end all this confusing sexual melodrama are being discussed. I am a busy person, I have other work and items requiring my attention and energies. But how am I supposed to stay focused when I am so hard up? I can't even believe I'm writing this, or that this is an actual issue in my life. Let's blame it on my vanity, totally, but I don't think I'm the kind of girl that should be so completely unsatisfied. And as for my fellow sisters, they deserve to be equally serviced as well!
Men of the world, we must sit down, if need be. Maybe you just don't get it. Maybe your machismo will forever need to have control over these things. I don't know. But you all are missing out BIG TIME. And if you think we women are scary during our moontime, just wait til we've all gone months without sex. It's about to get f*ing craaaazzzaaaaayyyy up in here.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Peepshow
Summer heat has us all on fire.
I've been delighting in the spectacle: hungry lovers feeding ravenously on burning flesh, sipping sweat and spit.
Mouth to tit.
Fingerprint roadmaps charting new adventures explored across corporeal mountains and caverns.
Furry gardens abloom with ripe scents, intoxicating the mind, blurring all borderlines and boundaries.
The jungle of love, dense and humid, spills and spans across marked and owned territories.
Pulsing hips slash and burn their way through the pungent wilderness, careless of propriety.
Oh! How I love these feeding, breeding seasons.
From my perch, I witness the lovers. I hover over their desires.
I hear their call in moans, whispers, tender begging. I sing their song.
Lovers waft upwards on winds of passion to my aerie; I am flanked on all sides.
They grasp and nuzzle, pawing to pull me down and into their cuddly cult.
But I prefer my cloud. Prefer to observe what's happening all around.
A girl must take heed in these dangerous landscapes.
Animalia elicits primal urges which could compromise hearts, minds, health or sanity.
Better to resist the serpent in this garden, so as not to fall from the goddess's good graces.
Yet, I voyeur on. I sop up the energies of this potent elixir.
I am ego-stroked and stoked to feel so craved.
I am as powerful as the summer sun at high noon...
... but reserve my juices for...
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