smiley cat


I start
nestled firmly, solidly
in your palm

Until with a purposeful
I extend with brilliant force
at your direction

and spin, spin

perhaps I light up
change colors

but I spin, spin

and then my tether flips
and tangles
a kaleidoscope of knotwork

Until I drop
grounded far from
your hand.

Kinky Musical Martial Artists Talking

Person A:  So playing this particular hand drum is like in the dojo when you're throwing a punch.

Person B:  Ah, right, when you aren't punching someone's chest, but rather three inches past it. 

Person A:  Right, punch *through* someone.  Same idea for this drum.

Person C:  Or when fisting.  Fist *through* the vagina. 

::Everyone groans::

smiley cat


For me, my thighs are not just an erogenous zone, but also a trust zone. 
They're a love zone. 

When someone touches my thighs with affection, it is intimate beyond measure to me.  It is warming and endearing, and one of the most comfortable and most powerful places on my body to casually touch affectionately. 

When my thighs are caressed with sexual intent, it generates my arousal nearly every time. 

And my thighs, oh they who carry me and bear me powerfully through my troubles and joys, I will part them for impact only with trepidation.  Only understanding the way my sexual, physical, and affectionate energies pool and flow from the grounded strength of my thighs can make clear what I am offering when I offer them for impact, and/or accept impact given upon them. 

What are your innocuous-seeming, highly charged (sexual and otherwise) places?  I look forward to finding out.

smiley cat


It's dark at five pm.
Acutely aware of every minute tick after four,
Time cringing its way towards his arrival.
It's dark at five pm.
smiley cat


Leave me out at the raining curb,
wet and grey and so cliche as to be two times too absurd.
Reflections in puddles a kaleidoscope of hurt,
my special places with triple the faces,
when all I wanted was to be first.
There's a tightness in my chest at the muscles in your thighs,
a trace of your taste on the tip of my tongue,
sweetening reflexive lies.
When once I thought I saw colors blooming--
pinks and reds and purple bruising,
instead I found I had grown those flowers alone.
My crowded garden of lovers with faces turned from me towards the sun,
kneeling to weep, I see the April rains are done.

On Being Simple

You think you understand me,
That somehow in our ever
Evolving, spinning, mash-up, galaxy of relationships,
I am the simple one.
I want to climb a wall sideways
and laugh into your ignorant face.
All my sharp-edged energies?
All those strange, twisted vibes
That make you all accuse me of being
Clearly the output of smooth functioning,
Well-oiled, graceful mental machinery,
Blueprinted and manufactured by a
Het-norm society from which I have
Distilled into the straightforward character and personality
You fancy yourself to know.
I'm the normal one?
You know nothing of the challenges of
Integrating my interfaces,
Cognitive dissonance my warm sleeping cuddle at
You've written me off.
Some sort of blank template or grey pillar to contrast
Your crazy kalaidescope life.

It's easier for you that way.

I'm the simple one.

smiley cat


Once when waking
dream-confusion muddled the
blurry room impressions
and I thought I saw you
reaching for me
and my heart warmed to the day.
But then the space resolved
to my sleepy eyes
cold clarity focusing and
you slumbered beside me
as always
and I resigned myself to
a waiting half-sleep.
smiley cat


Do we look to community to replace individual growth?

Do we grow as individuals to make community?

Jung levels the challenge that we look to community for the kind of self-actualization we can only achieve through inner work...and I am conflicted because I've tended to feel that inner work towards actualization is impossible without the kind of community I have generally considered to be lacking (think Putnam's Bowling Alone).  Also that it might be pointless/worthless...  If the important things in life really center around connections to others, how do I find meaning in solitary and/or internal experiences?
smiley cat

On heading for trouble...

Have you ever run towards a siren song,
fully aware,
eyes wide open?

Have you danced to pulsating music,
keenly conscious of the sleepy
drug in your veins?

I'm confident the sometimes subtle strength
of my will
will pull us all through when I dive
a three-way collision--
old loves and tempers
fraying around the heat of
new romances...

Each of them uniquely, exquisitely,
worth it,
and so am I.

So, run I do.
Flirt and dance and entice,
I do.

Maybe my song will resonate the most,
and we will all
make merry.
smiley cat


In a strange twist on who I used to be, I find myself frustrated with the extent to which I bite my tongue these days.  While I'd once attempted to culture said habit in order to avoid thrusting my opinions unrespected by and unwanted upon others, I now find it looks less like maturity and more like a distinct laziness about articulating my thoughts when I hold my tongue.  And I have always nurtured the conviction that an inability to articulate one's thoughts on any topic of importance is indicative of an inarticulateness of those thoughts.

So...  I'll work on that, I suppose.

(Who might've guessed my problem would become not expressing myself?)