Seen Through Their Eyes

/
 

Seen through their eyes
my father’s shame
a new disguise.
Their questions,
first responded to by lies,
then by compromise,
and finally by a summarize
of all the things I despise.

Somehow they are surprised
to find me so compromised,
so paralyzed,
So utterly debilitized
with my inability to
sit analyzed
and scrutinized
and demoralized
and so clearly despised.

Of course they’ve taken offence
at my dropping of the pretense.
How could I have been so dense
to think they could handle my defense,
to think they’d want me to get off the fence,
to think they’d want my two cents?
Yes I’m intense.
Yes my pain presents as a nuisance.
Yes my demons are immense.
It’s common sense
All they see is my father in me.
How’s that for a recompense?

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

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Sad Zac is Sad

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Sad Zac is sad
He’s feeling bad
He’s feeling like he’s been had
That the times he was glad
And feeling rad
Were in fact just a fad

As a wee lad
Sad Zac couldn’t relate to any comrade
He was bullied by Chad
Crying, he asked advice from his dad
‘Just punch his face a tad’
Lesson learnt, fists make a nomad
Add one tick to the notepad
No one approaches the battle clad
No one threatens the mad

Sad Zac is sad
Remembering his dad
Remembering him before he was mad
Rereading the notepad
Reminiscing of the success had
Ruminating on his advice to play mad
And embodying it as a personality pad

Sad Zac now fears the nomad
And trains daily for a fight he’s not yet had
Fear of the footpad wielding a doodad
Has grown into fear of every comrade
‘Where is the rest of the advice, dad?’
‘How can I avoid also going mad?’
‘What can I do to stay feeling glad?’
‘Who can I turn to now that you’re just a notepad?’

Sad Zac is still sad
But also a tad glad
Because putting these thoughts on this notepad
Has alleviated some of the mad
He still feels bad
But writing has healed some of his inner lad

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 

Dad

/
 

What thoughts
Are confined
In the vault
Of your mind?

Why
Don’t you speak
And share
What you think?

I don’t know
Who you are
Beyond what
I can see

And what I can see
Is that you
Clearly
Have no time for me

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 

My Little Kinker Bell

/
 

Erotica, R-18+

My Little Kinker Bell,
She told me I could
‘Look but
Not tell’.

She wanted me
To hold space
For her
‘No never place’.

She
Quietly asked me,
‘Would you dare
Touch me there?’

She bit her lip
And wiggled her hips,
And with tinkling giggle she spun and said,
‘Oh dear, I hope my dress doesn’t slip!’

With such a cute face,
How could I deny,
Teaching her the many ways
In which she was to comply?

I told her
In no uncertain terms
It’s time to grow up my Little Kinker Bell
It’s time for you to learn.

I told her to
Wear her wings,
Her costume with the bells
And other pretty things.

I told her that
If she wanted to earn my lust.
She’d be a good little pixie
And swallow some magic dust.

‘Come my dear
Take a seat on daddy’s lap,
First we’re gonna play,
Then I’ll put you down for your nap.’

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

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Please, Give Me Freedom

/
 

Erotica, R-18+

Please daddy
Would you 
Take away
The stress of my day
So that tomorrow
I’ll be reminded
Of you
And of us
In this moment?

I want to wince
Whenever I take seat

It will serve as a trigger
To bring me back
To your hand
Upon my flesh

The sound
The impact
The connection

Please give me pain
Not just for the pleasure
Not just for the distraction
But as solace
As love
As acceptance

Please
Give me freedom

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.