The suggestions to free

Cut and cauterized–

They’ve hurt me.

Have you not heard me pleading

For the release of all that caresses?

His release.

Have you not heard me begging to the presses

All these years?

I’ve done what was asked

Walked across acres upon acres of shards of glass

Passed razors through the maze of my soul

Dissected my heart with a monocle mirror

And I’m whole

I’ve forgiven my fingers

And I’m whole…



But his release–

His release demands of my mind’s eye

His suffering rakes the embers of my need

To sustain my high

Blistered and scarred

Rising to an inferno I can’t disregard

And my fingers beseech thee

As my conscience screeches to me daily

Release him

Just release him so my sight can see

He lives without me

Satisfactorily

Allow me to witness him serene

In the wild

Living out his most desired dream

And he will be filed under case closed.

I’ve done what was asked

I’ve inhaled the rose

And suffered each thorn as it passed

Licked the morning dew from your boots

Uprooted roots I thought would never be free

And rotated eyeballs to view within

The bloody internal massacre of sin and debris…

I guess I just don’t know what you want from me



But you know what I want from you

Oh you’ve always known what I want from you

And you hold it close to your chest

Under lock and key and duress

I could kill myself, leave a simple note of singular pleas

But you still wouldn’t give me what I need–

His release.

For his release is mine



And you’ll never let me go

Blistered and mangled

You’ll never let me go as such…

I’ve seen too much.



©Jen2010 1–31

Tombstone grey eyes

Gives lie to her fuck me crayon red lips

Oval shaped

Inviting

Practiced

Her mouth’s Invitation pursed expectantly

Quivering tongue glistening

A viper poised to strike death

But those eyes

Those damn eyes…

I am Immersed in soft billowy clouds Of ivory colored passion

Enfolded in the softness of Rita

I whisper

A childish sigh

The world is reduced

Absorbed

Into heat and flesh

Choreographed moans

Marching across ancient battlefields

Barely breathing

Drifting between space and time

I’m in love again

She is an opium induced dream

Her morphine coated lips

Adds sweetness to purchased pleasure

Entreating forgetfulness

Nerves scream and vibrate

As Apollo works his lyre

Her vacuous tombstone eyes

Rain a single tear

Lost…

Again…

In the softness of Rita

I return from…

That whirlpool

rising From

Another time…

Another place…

Her soft smile knew my need

I’m in love again

Trembling

I ask her

“Do you love me?”

Exhaled cigarette smoke blinds me

” yes

Always, love…

Always…”

I believe her

But those eyes…

Those damn eyes

So she texts me and says it’s over. WTF?

“Yea, sorta figured that out since I have not seen you in a year’
“I mean it this time’
“No doubt darling your are dripping sincerity’
“I’m dying, but you don’t care, I’m dead to you already.’

Insert groan here.
Oh fuck, here comes the “I’m dying” bit

So I bite.
“That’s a shame hon, can I have your dog?”

“You cocksucker’
“I mean it I have an STD”

This is where the strobes start flashing and the Philharmonic starts playing “Mephistopheles”

“you have what?”

“Do I have your attention?”

“Undivided”

Now I know this chick’s head and I always labeled her “suspect” That’s a term I reserve for chicks who you feel might be slinging pussy behind your back. Ya know sorta of a Kmart version of a Blue light pussy special.
“Attention Kmart shoppers, Christine is slinging some major taco in aisle four”

Just a feeling I had with her. Prior to having sex she started to feel me out with questions like “are you kinky?‘
She was never subtle. I told her the truth I could roll anyway she wanted. She was the atypical sexually frustrated married woman who was dying to fulfill some major fantasy. She came to the right place.

So the big day arrives and she comes in with a duffel bag that looked like it weighed about three hundred pounds. I empty the fucker on the bed and tell her,
“Babe, if I pulled a McGuyver here I think I could build a miniature nuclear weapon. No shit, there were butt plugs, dildos, vibrators, lubes, cock rings, restraints, leather masks (WTF?) I wanted to have a sword fight with this huge black dildo, I hid that fucker under the bed. No fucking way!  There was even a vibrator that doubled as an AM/FM radio and a GPS unit.

She undresses and lays on the bed and I have my choice of weapons. Being the bizarre fuck I am an image of the three Stooges comes into my head the one with them in the operating room, “Scapel…check…Forceps…check…Dildo…check…

So I chose restraints, a blind fold and a large feather. I figured any poor fuck could hammer her with a dildo it takes an artist to use a feather. I did and it was great. Once you get into it, it’s amazing what you can do with a feather, restraints, a blind fold and some timely lightly blowing breaths. No lie, She was hands down the best sexual partner I ever had. I swear we did it for hours, it was insane, I would fuck her, whip out a toy, work it, fuck her again. Man could she come and the crème de la crème?: she was a squirter. Yea, my first. I was working the climax and plop my face is suddenly dripping with precious bodily fluids. I was like, “Did she just piss in my face?” I recovered and realized but your first squirter will throw you for a loop.

One would think the relationship was destined for greatness but sex only goes so far; Then you have to talk to them. Ah, theres the rub, I have never figured out how to bypass that whole talking to them thingy. When I do men will be knocking down my door. “Oddpoet did what?” “Bypassed the whole talking to them thingy?” “That fucker is my hero.”

But… we started talking, got into a hellacious fight. She puts this Country music station on I asked her to turn it off, She said “deal with it” I did by ripping the radio out of the dashboard and throwing it into the street. Ya know typical lover’s quarrel. I do miss the sex.

Turns out she was not dying from an STD, I guess she just wanted to break my balls one last time for old times sake.

Oh well…

I’m gonna have to write about Debbie, the one that got away. Yea, I left her for my wife. I always did things ass backwards.

High fives…



Of course I stopped. Why?



The story demands our attention…



Five hours earlier…



I knocked on her door, first looking left, then right, a paranoid thing. I have never been comfortable going into another man’s house for the purpose of fucking his old lady. I don’t respect myself, in fact I hate me, but pussy is pussy and my old lady is useless.



I wonder if the same scene is playing out at my crib, some Mandingo mother fucker who’s got my worthless wife slammed against the wall, and she’s repeating verbatim what’s going through my head. Shit! She’s not a Poet; fuck her and her Mandingo boy.



She answered. Her smile was predatory, she looked like she wanted more than I could ever give, anyone could give. She looked that hungry.

Her eighteen year old boy is on the couch eating a hot pocket, watching Nickelodeon and eyeing me. Now he has no dog in this fight his biological Dad is on his third ex-wife and his Mom is fucking me at the moment. His step Dad is in South Carolina at the loving suggestion of his never faithful wife.



Our eyes meet. I can’t read him…odd…
She grabs my hand,
“Let’s go in the bedroom.”



I look at the bitch like she has two heads. Her room is right behind the wall where the TV is playing Scooby Doo. And the thought of Scooby saying Rut Roo and Her Mom screaming Fuck me Jesus…Fuck me… Is even too much for scum like me to bear.
Besides don’t need her kid calling me Jesus.



She is insistent! Won’t let up. I know her kid hears her pleas, her need. I’m making a joke out of the whole thing. It’s like a fucking Kafka novel, here I am trying to protect her and her kid and she wants to kick my ass because I won’t fuck her with her kid in the house.



“I’m outta here.”
I walk to the door.
She follows me, grabs me and pushes me against the wall.
Now I’m not a big dude, I’m a bad mother fucker but I’m not big and I let her manhandle me.
I’m thinking about the kid…her…



I look at her and then her kid munching on a hot pocket pretending…the world is… Rut Roo…



She is a tangle of needs and wants…
I knew at that moment I could never be the answer to that thing that burned in her, her eyes…



“We’ll get a room”



I should have run away and never came back, but… pussy is pussy and I have not had any in a while, being married and all that…



So…

The middle was the beginning and the beginning is now…



I’m looking at her ass like Columbus looking at the new world. She never been ass fucked and I … what the fuck… My cock was sucked into her ass, it was like Lassie running into the arms of little Timmy, home sweet home.



It was a violent ass fuck, I slammed that mother Fucker and she bucked, lord did she buck. I was angry, I was fucking her lies, her Son, her husband, but most of all me. I should know better…



She shivered and shook and collapsed on the bed. I was amazed a woman could cum being ass fucked. She reached behind towards me and grasped my hand. I pulled away and ran to the bathroom. I started vomiting and wiping the brown sin off my dick. I knew it would never be clean again. No matter how long or how hard I scrubbed.



“You okay Babe?”



I couldn’t answer.

In my arms

But you

Fall apart



Disintegrate

Vaporize

Dematerialize

Spewed graveyard dust

Dispersed

Scattered

Lost in time’s brothel



Were you ever here?



There can be

No solace in memory



Surrounded by

Melting Phones

And the Hangman’s noose



Madmen sing harmony

Writing songs

That make Angels cry



Unfinished words haunt me

Always of you



You



But you were

Never

Here

A figment of Passion’s need

A lonely heart’s desire

Crying

Alone



The harbinger of dawn approaches

Mocking sunlight will once again

Fill the World



Why do the birds sing so?

What need powers such melody?



The green creatures

Stir

I feel their pity

“Share in the glory”

“You need not be alone”

I am