A Mirror

A mirror reflects differently,
Backwards, reversing your stare.
What's dark out here is light in there.

With pain on my face I look away.
Make it stop! Get rid of it, now! Today!

I peel away the face off my skin.
My mask is gone, the blackness glares, Tunneling further in.

Digging, chewing, boring its way deeper.
I fall to my knees, feeling hollow and weaker.

The bridge in my dreams,
Becomes the place I take flight.
This is where it ends,
Now, this night.

Bound and restricted, both heavy and light.
My mind and body have all but lost the fight.

Will a light come to save me?
Or forsaken will I remain,
Alone and insane?

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Words On A Page’

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BRAT

Erotica, R-18+

Sucking his dick
whilst he’s on the phone.
Getting off on his attempts
to stifle a moan.

Going faster,
making him stutter.
Going deeper,
he’s melting like butter.

He pushes you away,
you hold on tight.
Hands around his waist,
you’ll win this fight.

He wants you to stop,
he wants you to keep going.
This is an important business call!
You just shrug and keep blowing.

He covers the receiver
and calls you a brat.
Tells you in no uncertain terms,
you’re in for a stern chat.

But that’s not now
and he’s about to blow.
You decide to edge him,
you decide to take it slow.

He shakes his head
and pushes your head down.
You started this honey,
so let’s not clown around.

You take him all the way
using your tongue as well.
He cums down your throat,
now you’re excited as hell.

The call is over
and now you’re bound.
Listen here brat
it’s your turn to be pound.

There’s nothing you can do
you’re reaping what you sowed.
Now you’re on the edge,
your man has slowed.

It lasts for hours,
repeatedly taking you to the brink.
He’s so fucking good,
you can barely think.

It’s both pleasure and pain,
a beautiful torture.
At last he takes you,
at last you merger.

He ends with a warning,
don’t you dare do that again.
But you both know you will,
it’s how you stay sane.

---

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

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To Purchase The Moon

I sacrificed the sun
To purchase the moon
Working hard
From dusk to noon

But all you see
Is me locked away
Stuck in my room
Unable to play

I’m trading my time
For you to live
It’s the only thing
I’m able to give

I’m so sorry son
I know you need more
You need more of me
Of that I’m sure

I hate how this world
Forces us apart
I long for the days
I could apprentice you to my art

But that would just be
A different kind of pain
What if you didn’t want
To work in my same vein?

Thus my attempt
To lift you high as I can
I want you to become
A fulfilled and happy man

There is no right answer
Beyond a cry and a shrug
Other than to read you a nightly story
And depart with a hug

Just know I’m always thinking
Of you and your brother
I love you both
You two and your mother

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition’.

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Sacrifices

I wonder if
On the day I finally
‘Make it’
I will regret
The sacrifices
It took
To get there

---

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

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An Apology To The Future

As elders
We suffer
The pain
Of our pasts

Niggles become nuisance
Ignorance becomes issue
Beauty becomes blemish

Choices
Made long ago
Become the chains of our present

Back then
I was free
To take any path
Oblivious of consequence

Now
Having walked those paths
Those consequences
Force me to keep walking

An adult
Bound
By the decisions
Of a child

I am
Who I am
Only because
I was
Who I was

Will future me
Resent these words?

Or will I look back
As I do now
With compassion
Knowing I did my best
With what I had?

All I can offer is
An apology
To the future

I am sorry
For the pain
My choices
Will bring you

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

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The Artist’s Dilemma

She been dulled
Stupefied and lulled
A painful recognition
Of love confined

Her life defined
Critiques and hard lines
Shrines to inner conflict
Oft spoken in rhyme

Words to pry
Words to satisfy
Words to lie
Words to live by

Dredged from depravity
The page a consul
Her soul’s aspect
Judged

Her life fudged
An act
Hiding truths
Expressed in ink

The artist’s dilemma
To flow or stow
To create or embody
To scratch with pen or knife

To be or not to be
That is the question
A modern problem
Shakespearean to common
Passed down without solution

She seeks absolution
A promise
A freedom
A satirical lyrical empirical miracle

Something
Anything
To break the cycle
To begin again

She comes full circle
Thoughts mulled over
Conclusions culled
Her love is dulled
And she’s confined

---

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

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How Do I Explain This Feeling?

How do I explain this feeling?
The one that comes unwilling,
The kind that divides my mind,
And puts my words into a bind?

How do I explain this feeling?
The one that sends me reeling,
The kind that crushes my hope,
And leads me straight to dope?

How do I explain this feeling?
The one that is not appealing,
The kind that drags on all night,
And makes my personalities fight?

How do I explain this feeling?
The one that wants concealing,
The kind that highlights my shame,
And forces me to take the blame?

How do I explain this feeling?
The one that reminds me of squealing,
The kind that is on repeat,
And reminds me of my defeat?

How do I explain this feeling?
The one that leaves me milling,
The kind that takes away my aim,
And leaves my full of pain?

How do I explain this feeling?

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

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Please Don't Stop

Erotica, R-18+

‘Please don’t stop’
She wanted more,
Pain or pleasure,
She wasn’t sure.

Hidden desires,
Unspoken wishes,
For soft caresses
And hard kisses.

He opened her mind,
His confidence solid,
Spoke the right words,
Her body followed.

A passionate embrace,
Inhibitions confined,
Moving together
Their bodies entwined.

The final moment,
Arriving together,
The mutual satisfaction
Of lovers forever.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’

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---

Flash fiction

It happened suddenly and without reprieve.

She stands motionless as desire washes over her. The intensity of the moment engulfs everything that led her to this place. She bites down on her bottom lip in hopes it will stop the trembling, but nothing can quell the flutters in her soul. She moves closer, every step intensifying her desire. She feels him behind her. His breathing laboured as he grabs her firmly by both arms pulling her towards him. She stumbles back as he wraps his arms around her.

Opening her eyes, she looks over the edge of the cliff as the sea rages against the rocks below. “I know living is difficult,” he whispers tearfully “but please, don’t stop.”

- @verbsandvodka

Author’s note: This poem and story came from the three word prompt ‘please don’t stop’. I responded with a poem, and @verbsandvodka responded with the flash fiction.

I love the subversion of expectations that she produces in such few words. Thank you for letting me share you work.

Scrying Thoughts

Bong hit
smoke eyes.
See life
fathers’ eyes.

Different pain
new disguise.
Hot take
fresh lies.

Core aspects
I despise.
Diverted focus
Stoned highs.

Scrying thoughts
child cries.
Look close
perpetual demise.

Broken dreams
sharp knives.
Self-worth
clichéd rhymes.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

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