Quiet Rumination

Look hard
beneath the surface
see the truth
the reality
skull
wide eye orbs
gallows swinging
I am here
I stand before…..
No one.
Myself.
You.
Society.
All look
not a one will see
insisting I am fine
the cracks
the flaws
papered over with crimson fears.
Lost
broken
no longer afraid
sit
content
watching the waves
debris of my life
washed upon the shore
awaiting close review
introspection
long hard look
a new truth
my own…..
these radical thoughts
feelings
they are nothing new
only now my eyes are open
I can see clear.
©Nov. 30/19
Picture is my own taken
Matlock Beach 2019

Daddy’s Pleasure

Please note this is a continuation is a series. Prior to reading this poem you must read the four proceeding to understand the concept and meaning. These poems are sexual in nature between two consenting adults. Please consider this is a kink and do not judge.

I step back
babygirl remains
pressed to the wall
eyes wide
mouth moued
lips trembling
the heat of my body leaving yours.
My look
long and lingering
before I kneel at your feet
looking up at you.
I tickle my hands up your thighs
hearing your sounds
pleasured by your moans
until I come to your dripping lips.
With gentle care
I part them
before me your clit
hard
throbbing
needing my tongue.
That first flick
your legs begin to shake.
I slide two fingers inside
your warmth contracts
slick and wet.
I find your g-spot.
I feast upon the table
laden with sweet scents
salty tastes
golden blushed wine
gushing over my face.
I back away
still on my knees
looking up at you
adoring you
while you….
you are unable to move.
©Nov. 28/19
Picture via Pinterest

Submissions Elegance

Please note this is a continuation is a series. Prior to reading this poem you must read the three proceeding to understand the concept and meaning. These poems are sexual in nature between two consenting adults. Please consider this is a kink and do not judge.

Abashed
beneath his gaze
you look down
beautiful in a way
you could never know.
He puts a finger beneath your chin
raises your head
looks into your eyes
whispers
‘never doubt yourself babygirl
you are beautiful.’
Melting inside
your legs quiver
he tucks hair behind your ear
smiles that smile
the one that makes you undone
and you begin to leak again.
Rolling chuckle
his eyes hooded
gazing up and down
leans in close
lips against your ear
‘tonight is my night
tonight I take what is mine.’
Whimper
deep in the back of your throat
reach out
steady self against the wall
suddenly
his body
pressed to yours.
Knee between your thighs
forcing your legs apart
rasping breath
body thrumming with lust
with desire
nipples erect.
Without permission you cum
staring in his eyes
watching his smile widen
knowing it is time.
 
©Nov. 28/19
Picture via Pinterest

Play Not this Game

Nothing you know
of pain
of regret
of hate
of defeat
hidden in your white castle
high upon the hills
look down upon the serfs.
This is not a fairy tale.
This is real life
where walking the streets
can be a death sentence
if you don’t look right.
Battered doors
broken windows
shelter from the cold
the exhaustion etched
grey cold in my skin
while you
you play
you laugh
up high on the playground
pretending you know
this life I live
this nightmare no one
awakens from.
Come down little prince
come down to the streets
come down to reality.
Crouch down
piss your pants
life on the streets
its lost its luster
the sparkle gone
you rabbit home
playing games no more.
©Nov. 28/19
***This poem was inspired not only by Word of the Day Challenge but as I sat here watching Dropping Cash LA on Netflix. One of the ‘celebrities’ followed was an entitled asshole who got under my skin. 
Picture via PInterest

Arrogance is not My Name

Well now aren’t I a little red faced. I am always trying to get the younger staff I work with to look ahead to see how their actions assist their co-workers coming in later. Making everyone’s job flow easier. I often receive a look like I am crazy. And I find this more and more. People always think that it is not up to them. Not their responsibility. And that drives me crazy.

Now twice this week I have had to restock the staff room. Once with sugar. Once with coffee. The sugar had been out since Saturday. I was annoyed. This also happens when someone drinks the last pot of coffee and does not make another. Oooooohhhhh this is at the top of my rage inducing list. (Not that I say anything…..out loud) I can go on and on. Having said that:

As I am grousing in my head about having to waste my time getting coffee. Why could someone else not have done it? When it hit me. I am being just as inconsiderate when in a pique of unuttered rage chose not to remake coffee…..refill sugar/coffee omg. Here I am ranting and raving about this behaviour and I am doing the same thing. Abashed I climbed the stairs and made a pot of coffee. I did however chose a different blend and brand. If I am taking that miniscule little time to go and get it I get to chose what I bring up.

Lesson learned. Now to actively implement.

Word of the Day Challenge #77-Untitled Poem

Grotesque
leering faces
drool dripping
liver flacid lips
pursed
desiring
chasing that final kiss.
Words
promises made
money flashed
as thought that could erase
reality
of shriveled bodies
wherein resides ego
which equates to strength
to power
within.
Float along
haze of despair
bought or sold
there are bills to pay.
Actresses all
ignoring the vile looks
groping hands
alcohol laced whispers
walking through
knowing their place.
He is the worst.
Stand aside.
Let me at him.
Porky Pig and his retinue.
Ribald jokes
roaring laughter
eyes meet eyes
and he pulls away.
Come hither
come yon
follow me here
follow me there
follow me out
for my dear…..
death has come calling
no repentance for you.
©Nov. 27/19
Picture via Pinterest

Daddy’s View

***I am working on a series of poems as they speak to me dealing with a specific kink. The Daddy/babygirl relationship between two consenting adults. Please read with that in mind and no judgement.

This poem continue from Daddy’s babygirl and Brat at Play.

I wonder
does she even realize
what I see
when she is on her knees?
Her devotion
her trust
blind me
those doe eyes
glistening with desire
gasps of air 
as she tries to breath
amongst the throes of her orgasm.
Her skin
flushed red
blush pink
responding now
to the slightest of touch
to the merest breath
enough really to drive her over the edge.
I become lost in her moans
as her body writhes
beneath my skilled fingers
playing her like an instrument
changing the tone
the way she gasps
with each press of my tongue.
I am lost within her
my babygirl
my delight
I wonder if she knows
really knows
how beautiful she is tonight?
©Nov. 26/19
Picture via PInterest