Geechie Lover


Geechie Lover

I can’t seem to steadily fix your face in my mind. It keeps fading from view.

Yet my body remembers your hands on my thighs. Hungry eyes devouring my pheromone gaze.

Every day the beautiful lonely rosebud years for the stem eagerly awaiting pollination, satisfaction and release.

I feel the weight of your obsidian flesh keeping rhythm with my answering hips.

Geechie man where are you now? Are you favoring another with your charming 1000 watt grin?

Your imprint remains emblazoned on my mind, body and soul, Daily seeping into V-shaped orifice legs wrapped around your broad barrel chest.

 

Throes of Spiritual Passion
Ecstasy, Passion — A Holy Orgasmic Release.

 

Vulvonic Storms

Engulfing pleasure via penetration by the fire-tipped arrow of liquid bliss igniting climax, undulating quivering flesh cresting and falling waves beating against craggy muscular shores.  Repeatedly the sword is plunged into welcoming consummation releasing the rapture seminal fluidity ecstasy. A Rhapsody of convulsions enraptures my being casting me into sensual oblivion of volcanic bursts of molten lava shooting forth from Vulvonic cores.  Addicted to never-ending euphoria once again I levitate towards the Golden Flaming Spear scorched sweat washing into untamed grottos. Intensity of squeaks and yelps issue forth from formerly abandoned caverns answering the echoes of uncontained passion as a runaway beast charging, snorting and grunting smashing into the tight cavity taking command. A cacophony of primordial reverberations fill the bedchamber atmosphere exposing sweaty, grindy rumpled sheets infused with rainbow colors, orchestral violins and Angelic voices heralding the gale force winds of Solomon and Sheba eternal song.

 

Featured

Baby Boy


He looked like an Angel albeit a broken Angel splayed out on the cold marble floor. His head at angles with his twisted body along with his staring unseeing eyes extinguished any hope that the embers of life still burned within him.  The earth came up to meet him and swallowed him into the heavens.  The Benjamins make a poor parachute.

Cupid shot by his own Arrow.
Cupid shot by his own Arrow.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Baby Boy

Baby Boy Got $200 sneakers as a reward for cussing the teachers and failing in school. Teacher or principals fault. Grades all F but it ain’t me you fucked up can’t you see! School’s for Fools. Some place I don’t want to be.

Baby Boy he never wrong. They got it all mixed up seeing me strong. Y’all know I’m the King of my crew. God’s Gift to everything.

But in the back of your head all you can see is yo’ no count Daddy, welfare system and crackhead Momma staring back in the mirror saying you gonna be like me.

Hanging out in the upper class nabe with my hoodrat crew. See a few things I wanna take. Wait a minute! What’s that I hear! A siren in back of me. Starting to fear. Next thing I’m on Lock down in Juvie Hall. Where my crew at now when as I’m taking this fall.

Baby boy lying in a ditch. Worse off than being a Snitch. Off to Rikers’ to be somebody’s Bitch. Baby Boy. You Done. You Done.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

His rhymes had got him to the big time. Opened new doors of upper class vice and sin. The immoralities of the 1%. I gazed at my son from the balcony of one of the greatest art institutions in the city seeing not the young man who had entered the 27 Club of the Immortals but every little boy running up and down Linden Blvd., Jamaica Avenue, Fulton Street or Sedgwick Avenue running to be the next 50 cent or Jay-Z finding fame and winding up on 27 Jump Street misjudging the doubles lives one foot in the hood and the other on Central Park West or the Upper East Side seeking Hipster fame and validation.

Jump my Son/Sun. Jump out of your dreams and into Eternity.