Late Inspiration

So I'm being a bleeding heart again. It's early morning in Cali and I just dreamed up this little piece. This is only the first draft written in 45 minutes but something that I enjoyed and will revise later:

Sharing is not caring.

Nor the calls from your secret lover at 4 am.

Or the way you dismissed us so casually

Yet claimed how you fought for me.

But truth is, you wanted our end more than me

because the walls of your mind had become so thin,

I could hear each thought creeping in.

Just as you crept into our bed

during those late night hours.

And I'm thinking my heart can't suffer more,

but I was wrong on that too

when she won the prize and got you

while I dealt with a cancelled dinner for two.

Here I was being stupid enough 

To try and hang on thinking I could swing the vote

Little did I know elections were a year ago.

And you said we had chance, needed time.

And I believed that same tired line

For years.

Don't bother apologizing

you've convinced me of my fears,

that there are people selfish enough to do as you've done.

But what's your life without YOLO and a little fun.

Friends perceived a bad start

but even tin has more heart

than what you put in.

Just admit you were always unsure

Because even then I was sharing you with her.

Horns Dance Beneath the Full Moon

“Men have killed for love, gone to war for it, and altered the very view of the world for years to come. Why should I not build a career on love, it is a great and effective tool.”

As I continue my journey, now in the state of California, several things come to mind. The freedom of this state is one that I am coming to enjoy on several levels. Not in the sense that I am free to roam (still getting settled unfortunately) but instead I speak of freedom from the weights and chains that I allowed to hold me back. I consider the opportunity to explore new cultures, new food, new terrain as well as exploring a new understanding of love for myself.

I have had an opportunity to delve deeper in to the depths of my own psyche and test the very word. From continued observation of heterosexuals to enjoying the developing understanding of pansexuals I let simmer and marinate a new recipe of love as I view the world from a new vantage point. How can I express the very thing that gives me life? How can I reinvent the thing some have grown weary of seeing due to overexposure? Even more challenging can I do this with my own words effectively and without restraint exploring the worlds of BDSM until I am satisfied or the effects of true love from a skewed perspective. I seek words that speak of sensuality that will makes your skin crawl with longing. Words that will create a burning dislike yet calm understanding of a character. I want to create moments that go beyond the death of star-crossed lovers. Can I do this. The answer is yes. I can with time learn what is necessary. 

When my day arrives I will bleed for love a color so pure that I will put to shame the reddest of roses on Valentine’s Day. It is a desire I wish to unleash upon the world, my interest in love. I intend to take this emotion far beyond the simple romanticizing of dinner by candlelight. I believe in a love so pure that the ideal couple spends everyday trying to outdo the fantasy of their partner in both small and grand gestures. It’s funny to think that some will not understand what I’m trying to express. I cannot imagine one’s life passing without the longing or feeling of this intense sentiment. A need for balance so strong that it is in the storm of your love that you find your calm. This love is displayed splendidly in Game of Thrones between Khaleesi and Drogo. It is not the only one that hints at what I am attempting to display but it is one of my favorites. They start as strangers yet she becomes his compassion and he becomes her strength. In the end he needs her as much as she needs him:

“You are the moon of my life,

that’s all I know

and all I need to know.

And if this is a dream

I will kill the man who tries to wake me….”  - Drogo (Season 2 Episode 10)

By My Blade...

"I vowed I would not let any harm come to her. Promised her she is mine to protect for as long as I am here fro as long as I can. So my blade never falters against her enemies because it was forged to protect her name and so it will. If the death of many is the necessary evil I must commit in order to fulfill this task then I accept that truth with a heavy heart and give my prayer now for the lives that must come to rest at my feet to prevent any harm befalling her."

Unconditional, that word can be heavy when paired with another, love. I am a person who strongly believes in the strength of love but unconditional is a bit...more...tricky. I love humanity, under certain conditions. Yes, there are hokey or cliché phrases like love overcomes all and love saves the day, but I draw my limits. Consider what unconditional can stand for if not properly applied. What if you love someone more than they love themselves? What if you begin to stalk this supposed love? What about an unconditional love that results in the magnification of ones own darkness?

I recently watched Jessica Jones on Netflix and was introduced for the first time to the Purple Man played by one of Dr. Who's many reincarnations *drumroll please* David Tennant. Now imagine a man who has literally controlled you for so long (you know, with powers because this IS a Marvel show) and none of your actions have been your own. What if there is a moment, a split second, when you could be free, do you take that chance?

Some people leap at the opportunity. Others see it as giving up on what could be a good thing. The latter, that stubbornness, is sometimes their downfall. It’s said that relationships are toxic and when you don’t recognize the poison it can wreak havoc. So I consider and reflect, how would writing a story like this go? Presenting unconditional love in such a dark manner yet still keeping such a level of awe at the commitment that you love the darkness they have embraced. That is the challenge.

So to conquer this task I am using a technique that was initiated while working on a script (another current project). This technique is based on Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces.  The process is like working with opposites: ordinary world (limited awareness of a problem) vs. approach the inmost cave (prepare for a big problem) or call to adventure (increased awareness) vs. ordeal (attempt a big change). So in a story of out of control unconditional love that goes unrequited how do you apply this? Maybe the limited awareness is that the protagonist doesn’t realize how much they love the other. So how to counter this? One possible answer is after the realization of this love the protagonist finds a way to prove this affection.

Well these will be fun questions to answer and so we shall see how this goes. To my readers I leave you with this: If you capture someone’s heart consider what lengths that person would go to protect you because they love you unconditionally. Yeah, Stockholm syndrome on any level is a bitch.

Poetic Heart

So with my longer project finally complete (yeah ok so I took like 2 years, things had to align) I feel the need to do something a bit more quick and not so grammatically focused. I always feel like poetry is  an opportunity to approach writing with a free form. To me it can be abstract painting of writing and an entire picture is there although even if it is presented in pieces that don't seem to quite fit. So far I feel the break that this project is giving me is totally worth the time I am putting into this next book.

(*DISCLAIMER* The readings mentioned in the following paragraph are graphic. Please be warned these selections may not be to your taste before following the links. You have been kindly warned so enjoy.)

And that introduces today's topic: Erotic Poetry 101. My plan is over the next 30 days (I actually started about a week ago) write out a series of poems that touch on different arousing topics and subjects. Over this period I plan to invent and reinvent sexual moments and sexual content. I want the writing to present a new side to sex through poetry, no two being the same. As part of my exploration of this I am of course reading other erotic poems and oh my some of the one's I have read. Can You Make Me Cum is thus far leading the pack as one of my favorite new discoveries. This is being followed closely by Allen Ginsberg's Please, Master which, and I have already admitted my enjoyment of references to this topic, touches on a submissive situation. What I like about Ginsberg's poem in particular is the description. Each action is broken down into a single line, not muddled together in some long expressive statement, and the narrator is yearning to be dominated. Begging with the use of anaphora to be dominated, so hot. 

In the end I am sure I have picked my next project well. As I prepare for my move across country a few poems here and there in between all the commotion will be a lot less stressful and will allow me to play around with the words in a way structured prose will not allow. Keep your ears to the ground, the plan is that this one should move a lot faster.

By the way for those of you who haven't peeked at it yet don't forget to check out my free novella on-line at: thisisthestoryofl.blogspot.com

OMG!

So this will be short. Things did not go to plan and I have not managed to post any of my other stories. It became of the utmost importance for me to finish my larger project Story of L and so my focus has been there and not without reward. I have already posted Part I and plan to have Parts II and III up before the end of the week. I did not intend to delay but I am happy for those that patiently waited for this arrival, it was not in vain.

Please view the story here and enjoy.

Finding the Right Words to say I Love You

Story of L is currently my biggest triumph in progress as well as the biggest bane in my current existence. Luckily I don't plan to to keep existing as I do at this current time and eventually I will emerge a beautiful butterfly. It's not that the task is difficult because I am fighting a bout of writers block but the pressure to complete one of my first major writing project is perhaps getting to me. I want the story to be perfect, to immediately have the ability to touch lives and change perceptions of the world. By carrying on with this mind set I have already failed myself.

I have no in depth experience writing to this capacity so there is no reason to believe that my first big writing project project will be a great success only that I want it to be. Despite my own desires for Story of L, because it is my story in a sense, I cannot expect it to become my own personal best seller. It is a stepping stone to my next level, evidence that I can write a book. I find myself trying to conclude it even now and I am so close I can taste the final chapters on the gustatory cells of my mind. My time spent in the kitchen is paying off with a delicious blend of proofing and revision as I work out the final parts missing from my story. Currently it seem two key pieces are needed for the conclusion of the saga I have created.

As of recent I have just finished reading White Oleander at the suggestion of my good friend Tamara. As I read this book an epiphany dawned on me, this is exactly how I wanted my story to be written. Not so much in the same topic by the style, the voice. At the point that I discovered this I knew I had to finish reading this book in order to arrive at a solid conclusion to my own writing.

I have noted with some most of my stories my test readers end up asking me for more; what is coming next? I kept asking myself why are they asking this. My stories have concluded, or so I thought. As I review some of the stories I see that I lacked a focal or a true conflict leading to a climax and then conclusion. In the end I could not conclude something that did not have a true beginning and middle. With this in mind I finished reading White Oleander  and received a sense of finality. I saw the direction in which I could take my own story. I started to feel at once I could make my story whole. So the journey continues.

For now interested readers will soon find that I have added a number of short stories I have been working on overtime. Each one is significantly different and displays my different approaches on writing. There just different attempts I have been trying while continuing my main project. Story of L is on the horizon and will be ready for your reading pleasure soon. Thanks for all your patience.

Path to Success?

Continuing the topic of my previous post, yes, I did indeed go see Fifty Shades of Grey. Unlike most movie goers that viewed it I actually appreciated viewing the complicated love story on the big screen. I feel that they presented it over really well (I am adding a follow up comment to my previous blog discussing this in further detail in the near future for those interested). I have always been interested in shedding the taboo on sex, just something I decided on my path through life and this writing is evidence that it is possible. There is of course some back lash, some countries stating they would release the film considering the movie to be more soft porn than an actual story, how unfortunate. With time though comes hope that we will open our eyes to the reality of how sex is a part of our lives. Writing about it is hard to do because there are many naysayers who feel it should not be expressed so freely. Instead they say keep it behind closed doors. I am not one of those believers.

Recently one of my friends even suggested that Erotic writing should be my focus since it is practically every short story I’ve written on some level. So I think to myself, why not. Steven King and John Grisham specialized in a certain area before branching out into other writing. Even Stephanie Meyer found her success with vampires before she wrote about aliens. Taking into consideration this suggestion I have decided that I may give it a try, why not, it can’t hurt. You know, start by cornering a section of the market that is not yet fully explored. I may consider specializing in lesbian erotica but it doesn’t mean that I will limit myself to this during the process. I still find myself truly interested in all level of sex: straight, gay, lesbian, BDSM, etc. If I keep my options open there is a less possibility of one day finding myself without material to write on. If I can manage to start here then perhaps my skills becoming visible will allow me to branch out elsewhere, time will tell. For now I choose to share another one of my erotic pieces with my followers. Below is a recently finalized draft of a poem I worked on. My long term goal is writing full books and to ultimately make that my breadwinner one day. For now I still write shorts and as a hobby I enjoy dabbling in poetry. Please read and enjoy until next time!

Submissive's Prayer

 

I want your eyes watching me,

as I pleasure myself at your request.

My hands glide up my thighs to my chest,

a pause,

pinching the tips of my breast

between my forefinger and thumb,

thoughts of you inside me.

My arousal verbalized

by a whimper of pleasure.

Excitement increases as my hands

snake down between my legs,

pretending they are yours, until

I am rocking slowly on my own fingers

marinating them in my juices.

My eyes close and my breathing increases,

as my body becomes uncontrollable,

trembling.

 

 

My climax, undesirable,

is forfeited by you as my fingers are removed

from their satin glove and tied above me.

The rope bites deliciously into my wrist.

No longer allowed to pleasure myself,

control is left to you as you push

my thighs apart, entering me with such force

over and

over.

You tell me to look at you and I do.

Watching the sweat build

and drip. Tasting it as I lick my own lips,

listening to your guttural satisfaction

as you enter me. I smell the efforts

of our activity in the air.

Then you pause

and I feel you resting in me, deeply, touching the back of my walls.

My sides squeeze you urging you to come inside me,

coercing you to fill me with more of you until I can’t take any more.

My mouth parched as it hangs open hoarse from moans

my dom has pushed unbidden from my lips.

I only desire to please,

 

 

The mingling of our juices

lets me know that I do.