Tuesday, June 30, 2015 14 words I am thankful for


I placed my
Sexuality on
A pine table,
Twisting it this
Way and that
Until it reflected
The light coming in
From the open
Kitchen window.

Once satisfied
With its placement
I squinted at it,
Trying to decide
What next to do
With it.

Should I place
It on the center
Table of my front
Romm, displayed
For all to see,
All who enter
My home, be they
Friend or foe,
Lover or the man
Who has come
To fix the
Faulty heater.

Or should I hide
It away in my
Frilly things drawer
Next to my rabbit
And my whip,
A secret I share
With a lover
Who in turn shares
His with me.

I am not
Ashamed of it,
My sexuality,
But I have
No desire to
Speak of it
Like the newly
Bought gadget,
Expounding on the
Features, most
Of which I will
Never use.

After much thought,
I picked it up
And made my way
To my bed chamber.
Instead of placing
It among my frilly
And kinky things,
I placed my
Sexuality on my
Bedside table,
At the base of
My lamp.

A fitting place
For such an
Exquisite thing,
Not hidden away
Nor in the open
To be pawed by
Undeserving eyes.

I placed my
Sexuality where
It truly belonged
In the one place
Where only trusted people
May enter.

Also check out my blog post, Becoming Venus - An Introduction
Thursday, June 25, 2015 18 words I am thankful for

The Final Song

He died with
His accordion open,
His hands keeping
It such as he
Laid on his back
Staring at the ceiling
With unseeing eyes.

As the police
Looked down at him,
Trying to decipher
The cause of death
The accordion snapped

It was as though
It was the final
Act, the final
Goodbye from the
Music man.

The ME tutted,
Pushing aside the
Police officers, trying
Unsuccessfully to
Appear unshaken.

He crouched down
Beside the man,
The music man and
He listen to his

It had a catchy
Melody that went
In time with the
Beat of a now
Still heart.

It swayed and pulled,
Dipped and flowed
And ascended like
A prima donna,
Up and up and up
Till it crested
And all was revealed.

The music man
Was dead,
His heart had given up
And his song
Came to an end.

pic source
Tuesday, June 23, 2015 15 words I am thankful for

Shrouded Woman

Oh, shrouded woman,
How beautiful you are.

Yards of cloth
Wrap you being
From head to toe
To finger tips,
No soft flesh exposed.

All is left to
The imagination,
Each curve,
Each line,
Each whisper

Oh, shrouded woman,
How beautiful you are.

Thine treasures
Preserved, kept hidden
From undeserving eyes,
From eyes that would
Perceive everything
And hold them tightly
In forbidden dreams.

The sway of your hips
Whispers promises.
The dip and rise
Of you bosom
And backside
Tempts the sinner
And the saint.

Shrouded you are
But one would never
Deny that you are

Woman, you are
Beautiful because
Your beauty is not
Defined by exposed cleavage,
Thighs, stomach and
Dip of your back.

It is defined by
The smile on you face,
The tenderness in you eyes,
The strength of your
Character, and
The unwavering of your

Oh, shrouded woman,
How beautiful you are.
I have come to honour
You as you are.

pic source
Wednesday, June 17, 2015 14 words I am thankful for

This Place

Let us meet in this place,
Let us travel from
Here and there and
Meet in this place where
The light always seem to shine,
Where another dollar is there
To be made.

Let us meet in this place
Where we shrug off our home towns,
Home countries, home continents,
As though they were worn jackets
Being replaced with more
Fashionable ones, more fitting
For this place.

Let us meet in this place,
Perhaps in some obscure corner,
In a book store or buying groceries,
Wondering when or if to leave
This place. Then we meet and
This place shows promise again.

Let us meet in this place,
Me from here and
You from there and
Somehow we find each other
In the multitude of people,
Somehow we find the hand
That fits perfectly in ours.

Let us meet in this place,
But I left too soon, sinking
Into the azure waters, letting
The sun toast my brown skin
Black. I left before
I even came close to meeting

Let us meet in this place
Becasue it was the only place
We were ever true to who
We are, to who we could be,
Where our masks were crushed
Under foot, leaving vulnerable
Beings trying to find the person
We could love, the person
Within our

Let us meet in this place
Because we could never
Meet in another.