Kinda Guy

He was a B-Ball guy

A six foot tall guy

A player type guy

A well, alright guy

The kinda guy

who had me climbing the walls, guy

He was a fall guy, for the right guy

A one night stand guy,

a kiss don’t tell guy

A someone else’s guy, kinda guy

Who had me crying all night guy

A pick yourself up,

there will be other guys, kinda guy

He was a nice guy

A damn fine guy

A better than ok guy

A kiss tell all your friends kinda guy

A smile at the thought of him kinda guy

A sit on his face, kinda, um yeah guy

A what the hell, messing with your friend,

kinda, kick theirs asses kinda,

stab her kinda, kill him kinda,

in my damn bed, kinda guy

A never get over this kinda guy

He was the rebound guy

A good boy kinda guy

A sweet heart of a guy

A mama’s boy guy

A hold hands in the park,

sweet kisses in the dark kinda guy

A make out guy

An ask permission ‘for he feels you up,

kinda guy

An, I need more kinda guy

But this one he was a passionate

kinda guy

The lover guy

The public displays of affections

kinda guy

The deep long kisses kinda guy

The make love standing in the shower

kinda guy

The hold and cuddle kinda guy

The make him the one kinda guy

The can’t commit kinda guy

The one who leaves

in the middle of the night kinda guy

The lost without his love kinda guy

Now the right kinda guy

Sorta sweet, kinda, bad type of guy

The take care if you right, kinda guy

The displays his affections kinda guy

The show you off kinda guy

Meet his mom kinda guy

Hold your hand, held me tight,

make love all night,

kinda, relax in his arms,

release my tensions kinda guy

He’s a make you smile

throughout the day,

kinda guy

Fall in to his warmth,

wrap his arms around your waist,

kiss the nap of your neck,

smell the scent of your hair,

draw circles on your inner thigh,

whisper in your ear,

smile at the sight of you,

listen intensely to what you have to say,

kinda, wow what a man, no surprises,

he’s all mine kinda guy

i need to be thankful for

my 2 legs/ wrapped in nylons, fishnets/ pattern designs/ crocheted stockings that accentuate the thickness of my big legs and soft smooth thighs/ that can glide across a room on feet wrapped in stilettos/ dancing to a beat caused by the friction and heat hidden in-between my limbs/ moves to music u can't hear but sweeps you off your feet.

2 arms/that embrace you and hold you through the night/ that long to be entangled within you/ fighting to never be let go/ wanting to just let u know they believe and trust in you

10 fingers/ manicured and kept right, that scratch lines into your back wee into the morning and late/ late at night/ these fingers that desire to be sucked and kissed that want to be intwined in yours/ and wait/ itch for you to wrap them/ it in a jewel

10 toes/ that flirt with the earth/ play in the grass/ splash through the ocean/ aint afraid to kick ass/ these toes are in themselves a pedicured jewel/ they long to be dressed in shoes that cater to my calves/ elongate my legs/ and show off my ass

my beautiful smile/that is often a magnet on its on/ its contagious like my laugh/ that is often a burst of sun light on a darkened day/ the way my lips bend my tongue curls/ parted slightly/ puckered slowly/ urning to be kissed by your full lips/ leaves me smiling in my sleeps with thoughts of you

a cute lil nose/ that begs to nuzzle close to you/ get eskimo kisses/ take in the smells of u/ ur must/ your musk/ the scent of your colonge

my eyes that see/ that shine when your present/ that gaze upon you in awe at the man you are/ these eyes see the worlds imperfections but in you see what can be right and good/ accept you for what you are and makes no excuses for what you are yet not/ nor what you will never be

my ears that hear/as you whisper in them/that want to hear the words 'i love u'/as u tell me things real and fantasy as you share secrets and stories/ things you say late at night as we lay side by side/ skin to skin/ the baritone of your voice lulls me to sleep

my mouth that speaks volumes/ that will tell you the sweetest of things/ that will whisper to you mid day of things later to come/ but a voice that speaks out/ shouts/ screams/ yells for understanding equality/ whats right/ what i want from u

a head full of brains/that challenges the man you are/ improves and pushes the man you want to be/ a woman who knows she can do it alone but rather we do it together cuz a business works better with a partner

my womanly touches/ my hips and my ass/ my heart shaped lips/ my breast/ my walk, its switch/ the way when compiled together they create their own heart beat/ their own sound

and the place where my treasures lie/ the place you want to slide and glide into so deep until i cry and moan with sounds of your victory/ the place my orgasm stays silent and hidden until you shake and move her up/ out through my belly/ past my rapid heart/ into my vocal cords/ out strong/ long/ in a whimper/a wail/ a cry/ a moan/ the calling of your name/ a shimmy/ shake/ shiver/ jolt/ where u feast for hours at a time/sucking/ slurping/ enjoying my sweetness/ my nectar/ my juices until i bust with pleasantries

for these things, yes i am thankful/ more so i am blessed

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Damn this Man

April 7, 2007


Damn this man with his rode in his hand, a 5 foot pole, a 62 inch stick; a log, a limb, damn don’t trip. It goes and grows as far as one can look. The massive size, just grab a hold, find a way, get a grip, take a ride wait for the magic trick.
A sight to behold, a love all it’s own, straight up, stacked up, holding strong, getting deep, going long.
Damn that man and his extra hand, touching parts I never knew I had. Feeling my insides, stroking way too deep, finding the parts that make me moan and whine.
Adjusting to his pleasures, measuring his weary stride, holding tight to my real emotions, crying through my heart wanting for more. Needing of nothing. Knowing somehow this is wrong.
Damn this man.

Feb 19, 2007
11:30pm

Like a song sung out long and strong we endure with beautiful high notes and troubled lows.
When we’re in tune we mesh together in a type of rhythmic harmony that makes our beats great, but when were not so in sync its not so good.
Our range is expandable, our genre eclectic, our mood set by the standards we choose.
And when we make music together, it’s inevitable your call to my response. My hip to your hop, I’m sure your rhythm will never cause my blues
But the song we sing has a melody like no other, lyrics only we know, a beat all our own, your heart in tempo with my own.
A song written.
A song complete.
A song sung.

Between us.

Making Love to Myself

July 7, 2005

I decided to make love to myself, just one night, try it out, see how it would feel. With the lights dim and a few candles lit, I stood bare, naked in front of an image of my own reflection. Their I looked at myself starting with the top of my head and following the strands of hair to my round face, with it blemishes from my teen years and laugh lines that run very deep.
I looked into my eyes with my eyes, and watched as a special part of me danced in the small slants, I batted my lashes and winked at myself, I let my eyes glide over my small round nose, blew kisses with two perky and pouty, lined and glossed lips. Drew lines and made circles where my chin should be but was more pleased at the fact that there was only one and not two, three or more.
I pushed my freshly done hair, back behind my ears and recalled how curly it had once been at one time, when I rocked my natural fro. I relaxed in knowing that like every woman I had a hair story, of loss and renewal. But I loved on tracing my neck that held the secrets to my eczema, which with time and age changed and became easier to maintain. I eyed the marks on my shoulders and saw beauty in them still, shoulders for someone to lean on ,cry on, for a child to one day rest their head on.
I traveled on to my breast once so round and full, they once captured all the attention I was to receive. Now they're not so full, less obtrusive, its different and new, not having something that was such a large part of me for so long, having blossomed in the 3rd grade, now be less of a distraction. Allowing me to find the best parts of me to grab a mans attention, attention that belongs rightfully to me, I hug them and accept them as they are at this moment, I feel across them knowing every ones are different and mine are special no matter how large, small or full or if they stand strait up and out or hang a tad bit low. I continue to make love to myself.
I searched for by belly button not so accessible as most others, but there and just as sexy if your the only one to please or be pleased. I slapped at my thighs, and laughed in delight. I examined, them, their fullness each round curve, enjoyed how smoothly my hands glided over them as my hands slide back and forth over them. I danced on the tips of my toes, and spun around, I saw the backs of my legs and flexed to see the build of my calves, that I attained over the years as a softball catcher.
I loved on my petite feet, with their fresh new pedicure, cute and neat. They wear the hell out of stilettos and can be accentuated by the right dress. But they'd much rather be bare and free dancing on a dew covered grass at a summer jazz festival. I turned my back to myself and looked over my shoulder. I took in years of bad eating habits, poor exercise, and low self esteem, combined with unfavorable genetics. This created less of a desirable silhouette and a shame and guilt I try to let go of even as I love on myself. So I hurriedly move on, letting my bedroom eyes take focus on my backside. Checking myself out from all angles, coming to the conclusion it’s alright, it ain’t as tight as I like, or as round as I want it to be, but with time and hard work maybe I’ll get it as I picture in my head.
But like a great lover I touched and saw, filled my eyes with all my goodness but kept my mouth closed, for fear of having to sleep alone on the couch. Or having to go without hearing an I love you at the end of the night. I embrace myself, stroked at my blemishes and round areas, I smiled and winked at myself. I blow loving kisses at my parts starting from the bottom to the top. I tell me how beautiful I am and finally before it’s through, I prove that I love me no matter what the packaging is, I was made perfectly to be exactly the way I am, and I fell more in love with myself after I made love to myself. And it felt DAMN GOOD!

November 1, 2008

He said I wasn’t worth the wait, and I realized he wasn’t worth the rush
He wasn’t worth taking the steps to get closer to but I took the leap into the shallow end of the pool and got stuck, I fell to my knees hurt and displeased because again I fell short of my own self worth.

Ashamed, scared and hurt, I look down my dark path and see me again hitchhiking loves rode my thumb out to the next passerby rolling up slow and I watch myself making the same mistake as before, entering in on the passenger side and letting someone else guide my life, allowing a him to be my driver

Not picking or choosing how I’m getting to my next destination and he veers me off my chosen course and I sit there in the seat next to him, cheesing like a dummy as he throws insults and hurts at me and drops me off in the dirt and I have to walk back to get the place where I am me again, and again I stick that thumb out there until the next pretty ride drives up slow and he pulls me in with a hello full of bass and a smile I cant erase from my mind.

Eventually the me I love inside myself will save me from myself before I lose myself to another him with bad intentions and thoughts of getting some head on his brain. But again maybe the need to want love and feel love from someone that can hold me and make me feel safe, will again replace the desire for me to take my time and not rush into something with someone who only can throw out one liners and laugh at his own crappy jokes.

Damn his smile, what the hell is up with my thumb