To the Men that I Love . . .


I have been thinking about you

so much lately.

I have also been crying about you

so much lately. 

You're breaking my heart.

And that's just the start

And don't dare say #NotAllMen

because yes,

ALL Men.



is it taking you

so long

to understand?

Why do you refuse

to take our hand






Don't you understand that

we don't want to hide you?

We don't want to

divide you?

We just want to


or die you

but you don't do that for yourself.

And we really want to help

but you don't want to receive


all we can do

is leave.


You think you want a mother

but you just want the nurture

and sometimes


can feel like fucking torture

and we try to hold that space

but you throw it in our face

claiming that you don't need it

because you can't receive it

and the cycle



I hate this fucking trend.


We want

this loop

to close

and I suppose

you probably do too.



Step Up

Open Up

Show Up

because this world

is about to blow up

and we need Men

that know a thing or two

about dying

about crying

about diving

deep within

because the shit

is about to begin

and we need SOULders.



before you go,

lay your head on my shoulder

and remind ME not to smolder

Who I AM;

then I'll be your lamb

(when I'm not your lion).


All the roles

WE have tried on

the ones we've relied on

are failing

no longer prevailing

they are only assailing

our Souls.

I give you permission

to not listen

to the toxic

and the obnoxious

that tells YOU

who to BE.

While you're with me

I want

to see


And you should too.


So Hunny

Start seeking.

Start peeking.

Dig into the pits

that are reaking.

Repair the parts

that are creaking

calling out

for your attention.


is not a new invention

and when done with Intention

is Magick.


So let's have it

all your dark

and your dirty

and your angry

and your nerdy

and your heartbreak

and even your perverty.


I want


of the pieces

of you.

They all

have value

whether you see it

or not.


And by the way

I think it's hot

when Men are


It means their hearts are burly

and I like a Man









*HE/ART - HE (as in: I am he, as you are he, as you are me) is ART


Freudian Slip

I visit places

Where memories of you still echo

Where I can still smell you in the air

Places where I think

If I try hard enough

I can will you back into my existence

With enough Meditation

With enough Aggravation

With enough Jedi training

With enough Complaining

I could actually Make You Cum

.  .  . Ummmmm .  .  .

I mean



Freudian slip.

Although . . .

I do miss the tip

And the feeling on my lips

And your weight

Against my hips

And it's hard

not to get

Carried away

Because all I want is

For you to stay

And for you to play

With me

In Anticipation Of You

Where are you

My raven haired beauty?

With skin that taste like honey

and melts like butter

I am intoxicated by

the scent of your flower

it makes me want to

plow your garden ; )

Even before you arrive

I can feel you in the wind

I don't want to anchor your Aura

I just want to taste your soul

I just want to read the Braille

on the inside of your thighs

I just want to tickle nerves

that used to be dormant

I just want to measure your inseam

with my tongue

I just want to leave



nail marks

on your gorgeous ass

as I make you sing.

Is that too much to ask?

No amount of #FindHer

will you bring you to my bed


Just the thought of you

brings me to my happy knees

Are you cumming?


A measure

of enlightenment

is one's ability

to surrender

But .   .   .

I'm a mother fucking

serial upender

An adversity attender

A Shadow Self contender

because I enjoy the fight.



probably not right.

And though

it might not

be correct

it's what

gets me wet

gets my Soul erect

I am the architect

of my own destruction.

I believe


is my function

in every


I'm in.

It feels like a sin


find pleasure

in the tear down

or appreciate

the meltdown

or revel

in the breakdown

of one's own illusions

casting off the delusions

I don't mind the confusion

because it kinda gets me off.

No ideas of grandure

I'm just the hand they're

holding onto at the time

I may

be selfish

because I wish

it was always mine

that honor is divine

sends tingles

up my spine

watching people


their lives

to be free.

And no

it's not just me

there are legions of us




the moment you awaken

when you're no longer shaken

and can stand your ground

when that piece [peace]

you're looking for

is finally found


all that rubble.

That's the trouble

with enlightenment,

it doesn't feel heaven sent,

if you're doing it right.



catastrophes cause caution

cauterizing connections.

caustic collaborations create chasms

we cannot overcome.

characters in chaos

calling for care;

combinations of





compassion collapse.

crazy complex compulsions corrode contentment.

when I said I loved you,

I meant it.

confounded confluence,

made us do this.

conjured connotations,

corrupt calculations,

consistent consternation,

contrived complications,




I can't take the incisions. 

I call.

cataclysmic conflagration!

no hesitation.


incinerate every thing I see



no more cacodoxy.

just me and the embers,

trying to remember.

cryptic causation.

clever castration of my psyche.

cockamamie soliloquy

it doesn't always make sense to me



coronary contusions.


















Just For Today


I am crying

I am lying 

on the floor


I am releasing

they can't hurt me anymore


I am trying

to remember how to breathe


I am meditating and praying

on my knees


I will soften

and not allow my heart to close


I will lay out my pain

in tidy little rows


I will sort out

many of my issues

But for now

I'm just crying rivers

and I'm all out of tissues

Ode For A Boy

My body is a temple

Going through transition

My Soul is preparing

For a real important mission

My muscles are all achy

My brain is a mess

I'm trying not to worry

Or cause myself to stress

There's days I can't eat

When all I do is sleep

I can't be my own caretaker

And that causes me to weep

I'm growing a human within me

Who demands as much as I can give

I'm fighting for a bit of peace

As I help this Soul to live

people try to care for me

But I don't make it easy

Accepting care from others

Makes me all the more queasy

I can't control my body temp

I switch from hot to cold

This is everything that I fear

About getting old

I try to find moments between the pain

To pause and take in the joy

And wish in a whisper beneath my breath

Please, make this one a boy.