life made me

Life made me
to understand your fears
Life made me
to taste your falling tears
Life made me
to turn your knees to jelly
Life made me
to put babies in your belly
Life made me
to make you sigh and shiver
Life made me
to fall into your river
Life made me
to wake up and say
How may i hold you
and heal you today?

a good tucking

Shall i read to you now?
Or let our beating hearts mate?
The townsfolk wonder why
you go to bed at eight
Tucking you
Tucking you
Tucking you for hours

Writing love poems
to make you weep
Rubbing your back
until you sleep
Tucking you
Tucking you
Tucking you for hours

Gentle hands give a bath
A friend along your path
A thousand trails of talk
Three thousand strokes of cock
Tucking you
Tucking you
Tucking you for hours

woman

I don't want a girl
I'm not a pedophile
I just want a woman
Women make me smile

I don't want a chick
a bitch, hot mama, or ho
No bestiality! No incest!
(and i've no cash flow)

I don't want a lady
They've poles up their asses
I just want a woman
The mammal that surpasses!

being you

The only rule here
is just be yourself
Watch your walls disappear
Put your fear on the shelf

You don't need to hide
There's nothing to defend
Be safe, come inside
Your running's at an end

Laugh, snort, shout, sigh
Belch, fart, yawn, jeer
Rage, piss, curse, cry
There's no wrong answer here

Take off your clothes
Scratch and sniff your behind
Then pick your nose
I really don't mind

There'll be no demand
I won't run away
See this open hand?
There's no price to pay

Freedom is the only road
that ends at the real you
Take my love, share your load
Can you love you too?

maybe

I've nothing to say
to save the world today
I've nary a word
I'm a creative turd
Maybe i'm uninspired
Maybe my mind is mired
in the love i have not
or ideas i've forgot
Maybe i'm on a mountain
or splashing in a fountain
Maybe i'm having sex
with a woman named tex
Maybe i'm reading The Iliad
or watching a movie that's really bad
Maybe i've been chased up a tree
Maybe you're there with me?
Maybe it's just a fun day
Come back next Monday
Maybe it's a blues day
I'll try again Tuesday...

little barbarian

My little barbarian
My love so true
objectifies herself
But if i do too
she rears right back
and throws a shoe

My little barbarian
My pride and joy
declaims disgust
for any back hole boy
But behind closed doors
i'm her personal ass toy

My little barbarian
My pod's perfect pea
I want her, i need her
I eat her madly
Next Tuesday she'll ditch me
for a jerk who treats her badly

My little barbarian
My uncaged canary
She's been raped and murdered
She's a little contrary
She's had a rough epoch
Walked the holocaust of herstory
But you'd best not blink
She'll soon be better than me

"i love you"

Sometimes in a new love affair, the words "i love you" can be disquieting. Off-putting. Deer-in-headlight time, even.
What more clear testament could there be to how broken we all are? For what should ever be more innocent and welcome than those three words, under any circumstance?
But...
"OH LAWSY, what does this person expect me to say or do in return?"
"OH LAWSY, this idiot hardly knows me. Settle down buckaroo, we're already naked - don't overplay your hand."
"OH LAWSY, i want to say that too. But i'm afraid of wanting this person too much...and hearing them say it now, why am i STILL AFRAID?"
It's so easy to get lost in all that, though. Perhaps once or twice in your life (if you're very lucky), someone will say those words to you, and they won't have any agenda. None.
Will you know how to tell the difference?
Not likely. For despite all the love songs and "til' deaths do us part" vomited forth each year, this world does not broker in love. We broker in "what's in it for me". And even the most devout acolyte at the altar of chickflickiah, carries somewhere in their back pocket one rose that's not like the others. One unadorned black rose.* We sometimes even make ourselves forget it's there.
But we never, ever throw that rose away. We would be naked without it. For the first time in our lives - naked. So we save our black rose to offer up on that day when we need to make someone go away.
Don't be too hard on yourself. In this broken world, that black rose is a symbol of self-preservation. And self-preservation ain't wrong.
But...
Once in a long while, the words "i love you" are spoken in a new love affair with pure innocence. Yes, the "premature i love you" is more often about hormones than devotion. And MORE more often, it's nothing but a shameless bid to be treated a certain way in return.
But sometimes...
Sometimes "i love you" is simply the truth. Even if it has only the depth of a puddle, that puddle can be wider than an ocean.
And sometimes...
Sometimes "i love you" is about self-love.
Don't poo-poo self-love! Self-love gets a bad rap, because it gets confused with egotism. But one of life's disregarded truths is that you will never love anyone until you love yourself. Perhaps we all know this...but most have no idea how to live it. So we pretend. We give it our best, because we must. Yet despite the plague of egotism that grips our world, once in a long while genuine self-love blooms. How will you know it, in yourself or another? It will be the happiness that asks for nothing in return. An "i love you" stemming from self-love is not a shabby compliment, either. It's just another way of saying "I love who i am with you...you make me feel like i'm the person i'm supposed to be...you make me feel happy, and worthy of happiness." It comes from a person who is so centered, so at peace, and so blissful that they need to let it out - in gestures, deeds, or words. Words...which even at their best are a little clumsy. We fumble to express what we feel.
I love you.
You're right to be cynical.
But your cynicism probably also means that your own self-love is a journey you've just barely begun...

*thank you, j.d.