[46] And Your Name Was?

Category: Writing and Poetry

The leather was cool on the back of her neck, inviting. Her eyes we closed yet she could feel his presence in the air. With every soft, gentle breath, she slipped down into the smooth sofa. Her lips craving to be touched. He drew closer. The small of her neck tingled as the first kiss made its intention. She felt herself grip the cushion. He moved down. Planting little pleasures as he made his way. She opens her eyes straight into his, passionate aggression staring back. The air is shrouded in an animal lust making her breath harder. She sets her head back down as she senses the backs of his fingers run down her chest. Her heart yearns for more. Her chest raises and falls. Up and down, soft and slow, he barely caresses her stomach and thighs. He plays with her, toying with her body as it screams out to be touched. Her heart beats faster. She bites her bottom lip, ever anticipating when he'll make his move. Eyes squeezing tighter and tighter each moment. He makes small circles on her stomach and chest, never allowing her more than two fingers. Soft as silk. His hand rises and falls with her heavy breaths. She pushes out towards him, her body aching. His hand moves to her knee and creeps up her thigh. The fringe from her new skirt excites and tickles her all the more. Her head starts getting lighter as she realizes her clenching of the cushion is the only thing stopping her from bursting. She feels herself getting wet. He allows for one finger to brush just around her clit. She quivers. Her breaths allow for anxious moans to sneak out. He works his fingers around a little faster, a little longer, never fully touching. She grasps and re grasps the cushions and feels herself pushing back into the sofa. Pleading in her head for the moment he'll touch it. Faster he swirls. Feeling the lust drip from his other fingers he retracts. She springs at his hands, pulling them towards her, but he resists. She never dares open her eyes. Her heart is racing and breath becoming short. In his teeth the bottom end of her shirt begins to move up her stomach. She can feel his warm breath all the way up. Her shirt lies just above her red bra. He undoes the hook and exposes her. Perfect. Licking his lips he plants wet kisses around each breast. Each spot grows cool as he soothingly blows. Her nipples instantly become poised and stiff. He lets his fingers lay atop one breast while his pointer slowly circles each rim. Every nerve ending suffers the tantalizing. She can't take it anymore,  he knows it. All at once the warmth from his mouth and hands consumes her. His middle and forefinger are thrust inside. She feels his tongue play with her nipples while his fingers stroke her. She throws her stomach into the air unable to subside the convulsions. The tiny moans turn into cries of pure expression on waters where words cannot tread. The teasing, the soft blows on wet kisses, had all led up to this. She grew hotter. Sweat beading and dripping down her chest. The whirlwind of overwhelming obsession for this moment made her not want, but need him. His lion's gaze melting away any chance of insecurity. Her head felt as though it were on acid, disbelieving the truth of the encounter. He never tired. He never stopped. Every ounce of his being was concentrated on her. Her brow forced together, breasts heaving up and down. One shockwave after another he sent her. His lust knew no bounds. Each move deliberate. The sheer ecstasy that immersed her very soul was more than any meager orgasm of the past. She felt it would last with her forever. There was no couch or cushions. There was no frilled skirt or red bra. The only two things left in the world were them at that moment. Bliss. The more she came the harder it was to listen when her body signaled that she needed to stop. Desperately giving in she felt herself settling down. Too exhausted and enthralled to even utter another sound. He took his hands from their positions and slid them around her stomach as she settled in, hair strewn about her face. She laid there on his chest and they stared out at the night sky. Hearts and breaths in sync. After all calmed down and they grew tired, her last thought was stricken with concern. What would she possibly be able to do? If he could make her feel like that on the first date, how would she survive when they started having sex.  

[32] I Just Wish I Knew How To Draw

God: Wow, that was a pretty violent death there Tyrone. I mean 14 caps in dat ass and you took it like a stone cold nigga.

Tyrone: What? I was part of a gang, my life was filled with hate and violence. (wearing diamond incrusted cross)

God: And lemme tell ya, it makes for great HD, or heavenly divine, tv.

Tyrone: But God, I read that all the sex, drugs, and violence was gonna get me on the highway to Hell.

God: Read what? What are you….. O My Self! Saaaataaan!

::God glances down the road to see Satan bent over laughing::

God: Satan, did you send that crap story about your starter race and call it my word again?

Satan: (grinning) maybe….

God: Dude, its getting childish, this is the 5^th time you've screwed with one of my creations.

Tyrone: I'm getting confused.

God: I know man, its cool, this doosh over here can't grow up.

Satan: What's wrong with a little fun? I mean come on, what's better than hearing "Oh, I love Jesus. He's my savior. I know God. God hates fags and abortion. Blah blah blah" and then 2 seconds later they cheat on their wife, scream God damnit, and conspire about EVERYONE that doesn't seem to "get it" like they do.

God: You know just as well as I do we all have to start somewhere, making it that much more confusing is why we have so much damn work to do in processing. You'd think they were Mexican with so many coming in at one time.

Tyrone: So you mean all the bible stuff isn't right? My faith that the words were holy and righteous means nothing?

God: Well, let me put it to you like this. The headline in today's paper is really gonna read, "God created another race, shaped the cosmos, and redefines the soul…… and by the way you should check out his new book." Not to mention, technically your all my kids, what do you think Jesus has that you don't?

Tyrone: (puzzled) Damn. So then what's good and bad? What love can we trust?

God: Do you like being told what to do, think, and say?

Tyrone: Hell naw

God: Would some dirty Blood ever be able to convince you that your mama's dying and you can trust him to look after your turf?

Tyrone: Ok, now you playin with me dawg.

God: Well if you can't trust them with your turf and mama, how can you trust someone with your knowledge about Me?

Tyrone: Well see that's different man, If my brother came to me and said moms was sick, I'd go and check.

Satan: Even if I had been a little bored the night before and decided to plant seeds of a double cross in your bro's head? Good news (gay happy clap)

Tyrone: Well no.

God and Satan: So how would you know?

Jesus: Hey guys, what's goin down?

Satan: Not me…

God: We're seeing how Tyrone here can tell between me and Satan.

Jesus: Sweet, so what's the word turd?

Tyrone: I mean I grew up with him, he ain't crazy. We tighter than a virgin. Once when we was kids he lied to my pops fo a week about who busted are bedroom window so I wouldn't get my ass beat. I dunno man, I can just kinda feel him in my stomach you know?

Jesus: Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. What does he win Goddy?

God: Umm i dunno, whatever he wants? this is Heaven right?

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Son: Daddy, why do we have war?

Dad: Well son, some people hear God and he tells them to start one.

Son: But what about the bible?

Dad: What about it? Who kills more than God, ever read the Old Testament?

Son: Daddy you know I can't read yet.

Dad: I know, I know, good thing you have me to say what it means to you.

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Mark: Hey John, did you know Franklin once said "insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome."?

John: Really? Deep.

Mark: I know right, puts a whole new spin on praying.

John: Now I know some people who's lives have been enriched and changed by prayer.

Mark: Your probably right, but you should see all the books written on denial.

[13] Stories Are Fun...Specially When Legally Drunk

 Current mood: beyond dead tired
Category: beyond dead tired Writing and Poetry

Prologue

Young and blind, arrogant as the devil the little boy lived. Each day was a flurry of excitement as he jumped from one adventure to the next. Be it throwing rocks at the prissy girls who thought they could take his tire thrown on the playground, or leading his pack of friends into trouble with security at the local hotel, each day was carefree and without thought. He went to school, came home and watched television, and played outside like every other normal person. His parents lived as happily as married parents do and tried with all their might to set their child straight, instill good morals and values. This child was smart as a tack, challenged any and all to games and puzzles that would test him. The whole world was for him to take and he had not seen it yet. With this child, so open, and free there always lies the possibility for a fall. One that torments the mind and doubts the soul. One that makes the eyes swell up and tear. It is always when life can never be better that the sharp turn into nothingness is taken.

Clause 1

He never really noticed the girl other than for her pretty face. They were just classmates in a band room of a school in a town. His brimming self confidence and her reserved inner being conflicted so this roaring lion was reduced to nothing but a pesky brother type. He antagonized and played and each day went on and on and nothing ever seemed to change. Throughout those days things at home began to change for the boy. His parents began to fight more and stress was as common as breathing or eating. After months of carrying on his parents split up and unbeknown to him this sparked a change in the boy.

From those days on he began to think, not about it being his fault or how depressing life could be, but instead just think about everything and everyone all the time. He would play out their actions in his mind and see how they affect his life even in the smallest and seemingly insignificant times.  He paid attention to all of his feelings and learned how he could manipulate them, subdue them. Still pursuing his outgoing and outlandish persona he never wanted to look weak and despised the notion of other thinking less of him. He made promises to himself that would be accomplished by no less than all of his will. All of this swirling in the back of his head and never making sense. Making itself known only in his dreams that would wake him to find his heart racing and legs twitching. Time moves on. The days go on much like they always had. Now he went to school, came home to a distraught mother, played outside, and slept like the dead. He still thought all the time yet never acknowledged it, maybe hoping that over time his subconscious would disappear and he would never have to face the questions and realizations that were screaming to be acknowledged.

His mother never seemed to help any situation. She would shed constant unwanted and unneeded worry upon the household. She had the same affect on the boy as all other people do. He began to feel no connection or bond, simply another being that needs to be tied into intricate webbing of those in his immediate surroundings. She tried to restrict him. Govern like the all knowing mother she knew she was. This would fuel a flame more than either would expect. Unable to deal with her own grief and mind she dumped herself onto the boy and his brother. He could not feel sorry for her.

Clause 2

            Perhaps it was coming of age or perhaps it was his new found perception but things began to significantly change within the boy. He began to see himself as somewhat of a rebel. Bad ass mother fucker in later day terms. He knew he was smart, he knew what he had to say to get by, and he had the arsenal of friends and bad ideas to bring it to fruition. Now when he went to school he did not antagonize out of blind youthful exuberance, he did it because he could and it satisfied his devilishly ingrained thoughts. This new gift would fuel every decision. He was not the all A student anymore? Fuck it, who cared, he would get by and no one would ask enough questions to make him feel like they cared. No one could ever make him feel anymore. The time bomb in his mind was beginning to sink in and each day he faced another realization and truth that perhaps he was not ready to deal with. So he used it as fuel to make his mind stronger. He knew just how horrible a person could be, just want they could accomplish, and where their actions could take them. He reveled in this realization.

The pretty girl passes by his right side…

Clause 3

            Fun was not fun anymore. Excitement was nothing but a mere word of the past with no real connection in his mind. Of course there were high points here and there. Going from one extreme to the next proved to be unhealthy after a while. All the while time kept coming and going. The boy new he was getting older. Each year would bring more responsibly and teenage thoughts would try to fuck with his mental system. This would never deter him though. Any and every question or thought was to be pissed off about or complained about. How can one get by if their constantly trying to solve every little thing that pops into their mind? They can't, and their weak if they try. The shell of the boy existed on. The constant struggle to grasp something real and teenage urge to be perverted, troublesome, and destructive propelled the laundry list of bad decisions over the years. Connections to friends were broken. Not by the times and circumstances but by something deeper that the boy could not control.

Clauser 4

            Flash to high school. Here is where the boy senses that he is finally setting into his "true" self. He prided himself and stringing together curse verse of which none could challenge. He cared for nothing but himself. Any and everything he knew he could work over and he did work them over. Any sense of virtue or innocence was in bolts of absent thinking before the boy could catch himself. He tried and succeeded to push away anything that did not have his minds stamp of approval posted all over it. This game was getting old. He hungered for reason and purpose……..

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, concert B flat scale. He heard the band playing and realized he had missed the entrance. He liked music, hated the class, but liked music and was good at playing. It took ten minutes of a Green Day album to make him appreciate and sense what music really did for him. Always next to him throughout the years was the pretty girl. He never really thought about her but she always was in his head. He was just asshole boy with no real positive feature that could woo one such as her so what did he care? So time went on.

Clause 5

            With the sin belt ever increasing with girls and property in the wake, the boy knew that while he feasted off of this lifestyle that urged him to keep going and throw out feeling it was taking its toll. He wanted to break down but would cease to see himself as a man if he did. He made newer, greater visions of the future for himself, filled with money and parties and people. As with all things though he would think about it all, over and over, until it was picked apart and made him feel unfulfilled yet again. Where would it end? Only a little bitch would commit suicide. While he tried to work things in his favor he never had the urge to ruin or play with his friend's lives to suit his urges. There was no group that he wanted to claim. He was just an outspoken thinker. He prayed for a change.

Clause 6

            Life will find you at every point you are not ready for it and all you can do is sit back and pray it is a good surprise. Maybe it's the magic of summer or just something in the air but when it happened it was as though the boulder had finally rolled off and shattered that ice that was this boy. There are not enough words to depict how it really felt. Her warmth, curled up body pressed closely to his. The ever present sent of her hair flowing up through his nose and blanketing his head. Heartbeats and breaths in sink. Hs mind, with all its jittering and babbling, got lost in night and was silent. The sleeping souls around them provided the most surreal ambiance of relaxation and serenity. How was it possible for people to survive as long as the boy had without a feeling like this?

Clause 7

            The wave of questions and wonders and hopes and dreams barraged the boy every day. Wasn't she with someone? Did he do something good? Can this go anywhere? Should he talk about it? An endless stream toyed with his insecurities. He was strong and could deal with it, no thought had ever bested him and God forbid it happen now. Each week the same overwhelming happiness set in and when he thought he could not handle another minute of it, gone. With new turmoil comes new clarity. The boy began to get in touch with the kind of person he really was and knew he could be. There was no need to deny feelings. He just would not allow them to control his actions like they did with his parents. Instead he realized it was important to act on them in order to make the true statement about who he really was.

Clause 8

            He let her in. She was not the simple pretty face he has always known but the keeper of his feelings. She held the key that unlocked thoughts about the meanings of life and the important of love. He made himself there for her. He offered his advice and concern during the troublesome times of her life. He became the big brother. This simply would not do. He pressed his attack and made his intentions clear. Like night and day she would either play into it with her flirtatious nature or look at him like he was on drugs. With every attempt that failed his pride and heart were diminished. He lashed out at this feeling by divulging back into his self destructive ways of the past, only to feel terrible about it later. This roller coaster of emotion and new pieces to the ever growing puzzle had not end in sight.

           

            Clause 9

                        He did not know if he was going crazy, literally. Never very if at all religious he began to look for signs to maybe confirm or deny his actions, no longer able to count on his thought process as a reliable source. It would take a sentence or an action from her to strike a chord that rang so loud and deep and in the boy that to try and explain it would take so much away and denounce it happened. Here is this confused being, getting lost in signs and stomach dropping feelings that has not made any real connection with anyone who may be able to sympathize or offer advice. Perfect.  When worse comes to worse you will find that you can always bitch about your issues to your best friend. And the boy's came in handy to pick up spirits and renew faith countless times. Another sign? Who knew? And the boy did not care to think about it anymore.

           

            Clause 10

                        Cat and mouse has yet to end. Grasping for the hand of God and truly beginning to believe he might have to let go of the one thing he has ever held precious in the world the boy writes, looking for a path of enlightenment. He does not want to play that games he used to. He does not want to rely on the old adages, though helping him to become the person he is, are not righteous or worthy. He broke down one night and felt like he could truthfully pray and ask for help. He doesn't know if that would help him and realizes that he truly knows nothing. One can only live each day with actions derived from their feelings that define who they are as one of God's children. He knows he is the loving, deep feeling person that is committed to proving his worth to the one he wants to live his life for. As long as he sticks to that path, he is never lost, or alone.