Wednesday, May 13, 2009

2am can't sleep!

Close your eyes and feel my kiss
The gentle caress of my lips
Taste the moist of my tongue
As they slowly part your lips
Feel the warmth of my breath on your cheeks
As my heart beats rapidly next to yours
Experience my hands running through your hair
As I slowly suck the breath from your lungs
Hear the words resonating in my head
As my tongue smears its wetness on your lips
Here’s another way you take my breath away
Each and every other day
Here’s another way my lips give away
The words my heart aches to say
The love you inspire in me everyday.

For Leggy

She’s the only woman outside my mother
To have made me cry… that is without hitting me
Yet when I think of her, it is with a fondness so overwhelming
It compares to the joy of creation
She left without a word in the darkness of the day
And yet when she called years later
My heart couldn’t help but resonate with a brightness left for stars
She told me she was getting married
And I could not but feel happy for her
She had found love, life and fulfillment
What more could I ask?
I held nothing against her but the love she graced me with once upon a time
She taught me love, desire, want and restraint
She showed me looks don’t matter… if they had I’d have never stood a chance
The joy of talking for hours about nothing
And singing on the phone in the office while praying your boss doesn’t hear you… I’ll never try that again
She helped me grow and mature
Taught me the beauty of considering others in your decisions
She taught me to love who I am without restraint
And made me worth ever molecule I contain
She taught me the intricate calming of letting others share your burdens
And the classiness of a strong, mature woman
My one regret is I didn’t spend the night when she asked me to
The only regret I’ve ever had in life… don’t worry I still have time to get more
She became my benchmark for what I want in a woman
She taught me there are no limits to what I would do for anyone I love … well apart for gay stuff and senseless murder.
And even though she’s in the arms of another
Raising his kids and cooking his meals
I love her still like no other
And vehemently refuse to ever live any life
Where we did not meet, love and share
No matter the pain, no matter the outcome.

Warehouse Tales

He was inside the warehouse, the bastard. I could see him clearly through the open window, he was smoking. A TV was on, it was dark and he was laughing, he was actually laughing. He obviously felt no remorse and neither would I, not now.

I took another swing of gin, I needed it. I needed something to dull my senses, to kill all inhibitions, my rage wasn’t enough. Normally I’m a rational man who thrives on inhibition, that’s what separates us from the animals that roam the streets parading themselves as something human. He was one of them and tonight I would settle the score. My name is Alex and that bastard in the warehouse killed my wife.

He had changed my life in one night, just one night, turning my home to a crime scene. My bedroom, which housed such precious memories with the woman I married, was now the embodiment of an image from the mind of Steven King. She was beautiful, even in her mangled state; he turned her from grace to a coroner’s work piece.

It had taken me a while to get here, hours in a bar trying to muster the courage to get to this state, nights of insomnia in hotel rooms and of course the money for the gun. It had to be something special, I wanted him to fill the pain, so I had to be sure he wouldn’t, couldn’t die on the first shot. No he had to bleed, scream, cry, and hurt like I did.

She wasn’t a saint, my wife; she had actually had an affair. It hadn’t lasted too long and I admit that it was my fault and it hurt. Yet even then, she always make sure I knew how much she loved me, needed me and here her lover was, the same bastard that killed her. Now I realize I love her more than I could ever care to admit.

I was inside now, oddly he hadn’t noticed me, I hadn’t been so quiet. Weren’t these animals meant to be extra alert, especially after such atrocities? He couldn’t be that confident, could he? It was then I noticed the bottle in his hand, he had been drinking, just like me. But obviously I was somewhat more sober than he was.

No use wasting an opportunity, my boss taught me that, so I pull out my gun walk towards him and plug him one through the back of the chair. That caused a reaction from him, no use wasting opportunity, good advice, I plug him a few more. The gun feels lighter in my hand as it surges in me a sense of power, dominance. His still alive, crying, begging, calling my name, talking but I don’t want to hear him talk, I want to hear him scream.

By the time I leave there he’s lying dead in a pool of his own blood and I’m trying hard no to hold the vomit in my throat till I get to the car. I feel cold and disgusted with myself but then as I get in the car, a sense of calm hits me, I remember why I did this. It wasn’t that the bastard slept with my wife and then killed her; it was that the punk had the audacity to overcharge me for it all.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Demon Days

Now it was one of those periods in my life when I was having one of those demon days, so I decide to hit a bar to get hammered. Yeah I was hoping that the excess alcohol would help me get through the day safely. Now for those of you that don’t know what a demon day is, it’s a time, day or moment when for no foreseeable reason you feel like kicking the shit out of anyone and everyone you meet. You’re pissed at the world and you want to be alone because at any moment you could snap. Simply, it’s a day you just feel positively evil, hence demon day.

Anyway, I get into the bar and I order myself a bottle. I had no plans on how to get home, if I’d get home or what was going to happen that night, I just wanted to loose my mind before it lost me. I knew how bad things could get if I didn’t get it outta me, I’d thought of totally despicable things to do to practically everyone that had come my way today and I was just inches away from deflating my bosses tires of my best friend hadn’t called me to complain about his nagging wife, poor sucker.

Now I hadn’t gotten past my first drink when I hear this irritating sound that just starts getting on my nerves. I try to block it out but after two drinks it just gets worse and I just have to find out what the heck it is. Turns out it’s a guy nagging his wife, a guy, nagging! Now I’m really irritated, what kind of arsehole is this? He not only desecrates the sanctity of the drinking grounds by bring his wife to the bar; he actually stoops so low as to nag. Now that’s just it, it’s way to low. A man should never nag, even in his own house. Your wife pisses you off, you shut the hell up if you not the kind that belts her and go to a bar and let off some steam. Then you go home and you sleep and pray she’s calm in the morning. You do not nag your wife, especially not in public.

I’m irritated as hell now and by my 4th drink I can’t understand why no one has done anything about this. I know it’s none of our business but he’s wrecking the bar mode, we don’t want wives in a bar, no a drinking bar. You want hot chics with broken hearts and are easy to hit on and take home. By my fifth drink the demons are out and they just take over, so I walk down there with my old trusty bottle and I crack the guy’s skull.

Now I’m expecting some reaction. I mean I just hit a guy, there should be a fight starting up right about now, I mean at least someone should call the cops or something. But no one does anything and I walk back to my seat and would you believe the bartender hands me another bottle, on the house he says, he even smiles at me. I look around me and I’m getting cheers and winks from every guy around, it’s like I’m a star. I mean I’m getting the whole alpha dog treatment like I just tamed this savage land and yeah it feels good. Everyone’s smiling some guys are even laughing, come to think of it, it was a funny sight. I mean the guy saw me coming and he didn’t do a thing, dumbass.

Next thing I know, the strangest thing happens. The wife walks up to me and asks what I’m drinking. I’m stunned, in shock; I expected a slap, a punch, a kick in the nards, anything but this. She orders another bottle seats besides me, undoes her top button and starts chatting me up. While her husband’s been helped up by two other guys obviously in Never Never land.

Fast forward 2 years later, I’m back in the same bar seating opposite my new wife, who I met 2 years ago in the same bar after knocking her husband over the head with a cheap bottle of whiskey. Nagging severely and extra loudly at her for no apparent reason other than the desperate prayer that some poor bastard would just walk over and knock me the hell out of my misery!

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Exams! Exams! Exams!

Exams! Exams! Exams! I’ve had exams all month and it’s been driving me nuts. But alas I am finally through, just chilling in my room about to finally watch some dirty sick porn I downloaded for no apparent reason other than the obvious when it occurs to me to check my mailbox. A harmless thing in itself but then there’s the mail and I do mean the mail. It’s from one of my professors asking to see me. Now this is awkward, well because this professor is hot, I mean she is way hot. On a scale of one to ten she’s a twelve, for real, no lie. She’s like the bench mark for beauty and hotness around this parts, so if you describing a hot chic you just meant, every one’s gonna ask you to compare her to this professor.

Now I’m not sure why she would want to see me, but I’m a guy and like all guys I let my imagination go, never once thinking it could be about my grades. Well of course I did but I dismissed that early, well because the fantasy plays much better.
Now my appointment with her is for 4pm, closing hours, which as you must have guessed helped fuel the fantasies. So I get there early, like an hour early and I don’t know why, so I have to pace the corridors waiting for 4pm, when it occurs to me her office hours are 2pm to 4pm. Why would she want to see me after office hours? A smile crosses my face and I’m in Never Never land waiting for Trixie to come home.

Then I get this phone call from a friend who’s meant to be taking the same course with this professor, he tells me the grades are out and he’s flunked. Now this obviously isn’t good news as he’s the brightest chap I know. If he flunked, then what are my chances? Pretty damn good, cause I read my heart out for that course and I made every high grade in the tests. I never missed a class, never! That’s odd cause me and the same chap spent our time on smoking weed at our other class times. But we never missed her class. And I sure paid attention to every syllable coming out of those luscious lips. I could even quote her by class and time.
Yet I’m a bit anxious as if I failed the exams and that’s why she wants to see me, how does this make me appear to Miss Dreamboat. For some reason I still can’t phantom I begin reading my class notes very fast. Which is odd because well, why the heck did I bring my class notes to her office after the exam? But I know I don’t want to appear stupid in front of the object of my affections.

At 3.30pm she opens her door and is just stepping out when she spots me reading. She smiles, oh lord her smile, it’s like the dawn and a summer sunset occurring at the same time. Like nothing you will ever see again, yet you see it every time you see her. She walks up to me and I have to shift my bag to my mid section if you know what I mean. She looks directly at me in bewilderment and asks if I’ve been waiting to see her, I stammer yes and try to explain a mix-up in my mind due to her office hours. She just keeps on smiling and asks me into her office.
Seated there, a thousand things are running through my mind when her first question comes out and blows me to a Halo game world. I mean she actually asks what I think of her. Hearts beating at 200RPM, minds writing poetry at the rate binary codes are being processed. Well I stammer she’s a great teacher and I learn a lot from her. She smiles again and she thanks me and notices I never miss a class and that my test grades have been quite good. I thank her and try to explain that I am like that with all my course. She smiles makes me confirm that and then tells me another professor a guy doesn’t agreed with my assessment of myself as a student. Saying I have missed all his classes and tests. Now I’m upset and can’t figure out why on earth he would say that. I had a course from him last semester and did quite well in it, what an arse.

Then she asks me a more direct question which makes me adjust my bag again, she asks if I like her. Now my minds doing the gig, teacher –student romance, me and Miss Dreamboat? I don’t care if she flunks me or about grades any more, hell who wants an affair, let’s elope. But I have to play cautious so I tell her I think she’s a great tutor and I admire her a lot. Then it happens, she adjusts her seat, tells me she’s come out plain and actually tells me she knows I have a crush on her. My body didn’t know whether to cum or pee in my pants. I had to check my pulse, hell I wanted to slap myself, it was possible I was dreaming all this after I read her mail.
I’m still stammering and answer; she just smiles and tells me she knows I have a crush on her and that she’s sure of it. She must have caught me staring at her dreamingly during class but she didn’t say that. She asked if I wanted to know how she knows and I stammered yes, realizing I just admitted to the crush.

Well she says, I passed her course, practically one of the few who did, I didn’t miss a question but she can’t give me my grade. I’m now in shock and my body’s made up its mind that if it has to do anything its pee. Now I don’t really care about the grade if she’s gonna have an affair with me, what’s a grade compared to an affair with the hottest professor on campus? But then fair is fair, I’ve never worked so hard reading anything in my life just to impress her. Well she explains, I can’t get my grade cause I didn’t register for her course, I registered for professor Shit face course instead. Then I realize it, hell its true, I did so well in his course with minimum effort last semester I register for another course under him this semester but then I saw Miss Dreamboat walk into another class the same time as Shit face’s course time and I followed her instead. Now what’s worse she knows I have a crush on her and so she’s sending to me student counseling for the summer holidays. Ahhh a loss loss situation here!