Queen Bee-She Stings And They Beg For More

Queen Bee,

with her melancholy look

and expressions of sorrow

not to mention her tears flowing

in an endless parade

of heartbreak

down her otherwise

flawless cheeks

are enough to make

any man

weak in the knees

and max out his

credit cards

to the limit of his heart's

ability to pay.

She is truly

a woman to die for

and many a good man

has laid his life

at her feet

in return for her

favors

only to find

that when all is

finally

said and done

this Prima Donna

had moved on

to the next

man named John

 
(C) 2010 T.S.

Romeo's Lament For The Death Of Teutonic Poetry

Your heart beats

with an irregular rhythm

as you declare your affections

for your new disciple an obedient one.

You rant and she awaits

your words of egregious verse

to satisfy her amateur

appreciation for the art.

She hangs on every thread 

of your angry discontent,

as all your previous rejections

reflect her need for something,

anything at all, would be better

than what she currently uses

to fill her heart's painful void.

You speak of beautiful flowers,

which you cut and place

in a counterfeit deco vase for her.

You sing of peace but practice war.

You promise life......

               but you deliver death to her door.

You speak of light and its beauty "to be or not to be revealed"
               but darkness is what truly binds you.

You try to steal what you cannot possess.

You try to have what you cannot hold.

You try to confound her feelings to avoid

losing all you think she has to give,

but you are oh so very wrong.....


For your heart dear Romeo beats

with an irregular rhythm

as does your verse.

You declare your unparalleled

love for her and her alone

by tearing up any former declarations

to the one you fancied yesterday.

Discarded goods, to be despised.

The only love you ever really knew,

you betrayed with more than just your words

and the remnants of your sick and senseless pride.

You betrayed her with your soul,

and little do you know,

that is all your pitiful self, ever had to give.

 

  © 2020 T.S.

All Hot, Sweaty And In Need Of A Shower

I am sweating with passion from
Hot body presses and
Heavy bag punches
With the gloves off
I expose my package
Come spot me
Where I am laid out flat on my back
On this bench
Attempting to lift even more but
Worn out from the weight
Of waiting for you to touch me
Tired of touching myself
I need someone like you
To train my muscles
As so they may grow even bigger
Strong and hard enough to endure
The test of your many desires
And the burden you give to me
Of fulfilling them for you
Come take this bar and support it
Over my head as I stare at your
Beautiful breast
Upside down from where I am seated
As the top of my head feels
The warmth of your inner thighs
Pressing ever compressing my temples
Wishing that if I was to die
Let it be here and now
With my face in the one place
I wish to live
Lock me up in you
Let me punch
Bite and lick my way out
I promise never to succeed
Except to pleasure you
As I fake any attempt to escape
Your body's cave of steroidal
Passion and hormonal sports drink
Build me up so that I can take
Hours of lovemaking and the fatigue
Of our joust as we work out
I lift first then you go next
Hit me with your best shot
I know that's not all you got
Spot for me
Spot my package
Now hard and firm from your conditioning
Of my endurance and my presses
As I lie here on my back
Waiting to lift you
Should you again straddle me
With those legs I love

 ©2010T.S.

Cum

Come
closer to me Darling
press your
naked body
against mine-
-smother me
with your love
like one
giant kiss
as I hold you
and everything
that binds us
between
my index finger
and my thumb


© 2010 T.S.

In Boxers You Can Scratch Your Nuts

six a.m.
the night dew has soaked my lawn
with its moist breath and glistening tears
the first rays of morning sun
are awakening
the crows and starlings
soon the sky will be filled
with flying rodents
and the sounds of Winter
a strange dog
takes a crap
in my neighbors front yard
I like dogs
my neighbor likes cats
stray cats
eighteen and younger
purring cats
that need attention
and lots of money
to keep quiet
cats that wear mini skirts
and daisy duke shorts
with mid drift tops
and purr for some
middle age back
to scratch
call me jealous
but I like dogs
and long marriages
my wife still sleeps
as I make my way outside
into the tall wet grass
where I pick up the paper
and stand for a moment
just to smell the fresh dog shit
and enjoy the sounds
of a garbage truck
as it hauls away the kitty litter of yesterday___

2010 © T.S.

How Much Time Is No Time?

Sitting at my old cluttered desk
A deep sadness eats away at me
I write some words down on a piece of paper
Saving them for later or maybe forever____
One can never know the value of such
For they have saved my life in the past
Whereby reflecting on some simple reverie I had scribbled
Committing jabble to paper first and later to serious thought
I was resurrected by the logic of the odds of my surviving further assults
Many the time.....over these past labored days and weeks
Have I... since the diagnosis of my body's disease
Inquired on a way of extinguishing my anquish and pain
Euthanasia greets my weaknesses as a friend might pull the plug
Always whispering a promise or offering of an overdose of drugs
Number Nine #9 Number Nine #9....The Beatles sang
But those words offer only an end.....never any answers
Sitting at my old cluttered desk
Writing my epigraph and will.....the phone rings.....with a shrill.....
A gentle voice says 'Hello. How are we today? '
And as irony would have it
I said 'Goodbye'

 2010 T.S.