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Saturday, April 04, 2009
Friday, April 03, 2009
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Dream Moves 2
There is a Sarbo net out
on the water
and it is real.
The cutter told the story.
In court she was
modern, the Queen.
That's not common
nor should it be.
There is a Colos bar
floating on the water
and it is real.
The crew motto strands
while wake boarding sculls.
Only elite was she
modern, the runner.
That's not common
or should it be?
There is a poem pit out there
filled with water.
on the water
and it is real.
The cutter told the story.
In court she was
modern, the Queen.
That's not common
nor should it be.
There is a Colos bar
floating on the water
and it is real.
The crew motto strands
while wake boarding sculls.
Only elite was she
modern, the runner.
That's not common
or should it be?
There is a poem pit out there
filled with water.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Dream Moves 1
She was so intimidating--
Her hair and her
Breasts bragging
Her wonders a camera
Trained upon me as
I made my move
Which was a combination
Of moves
The first move was for
Myself
To get under the
Camera's periphery
Where I could
Make the rest of my
Moves in private
She was Medusa without
The snakes and without
The terrible face
She was a Fergilicious
Medusa
With wavy stranded locks
Cascading from the part
At the center of her scalp
Never-the-less if I did
Not make my first move
I would surely be turned
To stone...I would be
Stone
And then the
Other moves would be moot
Even if I managed to
Pull them off
Then the next move
Would be to touch--
Just above her hips at
The waist I would
Move her to me even
Though the intimidation
Wave lengths were
Bombarding my brain
As if her body could
Climb my cortex and
Stare at my thoughts
If she did this, she
Would see my thoughts
Which would reveal my
Still meager confidence
In what I was doing
Now I needed my third
Move which varied
This time the lips were
My third move--
As I continued to shield
Myself from the force field
Of her Medusian body-stare
I dipped and dove at her lips
Who doesn't like a kiss?
The rest was all improvisational
As we both transformed
The grandeur of her
Wonders into a heat wave
Of skin tugging and grabbing
And miniature lip bumper cars
As we battled back and forth
In feeble attempts to
Intimidate each other
We intimidated each other
For hours
When we finished and I
Re-dressed myself
Somehow I was wearing
Her intimidation
I had no other choice
But to let her make
Her moves on me
Her hair and her
Breasts bragging
Her wonders a camera
Trained upon me as
I made my move
Which was a combination
Of moves
The first move was for
Myself
To get under the
Camera's periphery
Where I could
Make the rest of my
Moves in private
She was Medusa without
The snakes and without
The terrible face
She was a Fergilicious
Medusa
With wavy stranded locks
Cascading from the part
At the center of her scalp
Never-the-less if I did
Not make my first move
I would surely be turned
To stone...I would be
Stone
And then the
Other moves would be moot
Even if I managed to
Pull them off
Then the next move
Would be to touch--
Just above her hips at
The waist I would
Move her to me even
Though the intimidation
Wave lengths were
Bombarding my brain
As if her body could
Climb my cortex and
Stare at my thoughts
If she did this, she
Would see my thoughts
Which would reveal my
Still meager confidence
In what I was doing
Now I needed my third
Move which varied
This time the lips were
My third move--
As I continued to shield
Myself from the force field
Of her Medusian body-stare
I dipped and dove at her lips
Who doesn't like a kiss?
The rest was all improvisational
As we both transformed
The grandeur of her
Wonders into a heat wave
Of skin tugging and grabbing
And miniature lip bumper cars
As we battled back and forth
In feeble attempts to
Intimidate each other
We intimidated each other
For hours
When we finished and I
Re-dressed myself
Somehow I was wearing
Her intimidation
I had no other choice
But to let her make
Her moves on me
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Monday, November 24, 2008
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