Lazarus Kiss.34

Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.

May you be embraced by a love beyond recall that alters others and a love within recall that alters you.

kiss

Lazarus Kiss.34

“Today I am to marry Mary Fields. I feel deep shame that she is with my child for if she were not I fear we would not marry. I do not recall the occasion of bedding her. If we had not been discovered by her mother and brother I would have denied it. The fact remains we were in the same bed together when morning broke.

When it was discovered she was with child I did the honourable thing by her and her good family.”

Later in the same diary:

“My dear wife has passed away in childbirth. I have a fine son to be named Eldon. I will miss her sorely as she has proved to be a boon and blessing despite our troubled beginning. She was most considerate and understanding of my various indiscretions. She never questioned my inability to remember what had transpired.

It grieves me deeply to have become an adulterer with no conscience or presence of mind to prevent it from occurring. Each time I have pledged to Our Saviour it would be the last, that it would never transpire again. Yet I would discover that it had.

Once my dear wife is buried I will leave this territory while I have a well regarded reputation for goodness.”

This is one of the last entries in the diaries. We know that he did leave Pennsylvania and move further west to set up his legal practice. He kept no more records himself of his life. He was elected to the state assembly of Colorado. It was his son Eldon who moved to Canada.

There are no records of a Rowell Byrnes, that is if this is an authentic name.  Rowell is mostly commonly a last name.”

Harris went through the pages and there was a photocopy of the actual curse. Did the original that Rowell wrote still exist. If he had that he could burn it and free himself from it.

*37*

Harris waited for Trevor on the east bound subway platform. The day at dE.tail had passed quickly and uneventfully. Life seemed normal. There had been, as far as he could tell, no sudden infatuations. His eyes ached as they often did from the constant staring at the screen while he nursed pixels of rose blush to rose less blush. Occasionally he wished he could turn his eyes off because he’d catch himself looking at the subway ads wanting to tweak shadows or nudge text a little to give images more pop.

“Hey Dog. Looking fresh.” He tousled Harris’s hair.

“New cut.” Harris tired to smooth out what Trevor had ruffled.

“Man I never thought you’d cut loose of that pony tail. Takes pounds off.”

The train pulled up and they got on. The car was crowded so they stood where they could find a space.

“Any further adventures today?”

“Nothing. Happy to say.” Harris shrugged. “A day of peace and quiet is what I wanted and that’s what I got.”

“Cool. This suits you. The highlights.”

“Since when did hair mean that much to you?”

“It don’t, man. Can’t a guy say something nice sometimes. I mean you’ve been making major changes. Don’t you want anyone to notice?”

Harris shrugged. When no one at dE.tail had said anything about the new cut he thought he should have gone for a more dramatic cut, a total hair color change. At work he’d caught himself a few times grab for an elastic to pull it back into a pony tail only to reach up and there was no hair there. At least his shoulders no longer felt bare without the shield of hair.

“I got more info on the curse.” Out of his shoulder bag he pulled the photocopies his Dad given him.

Trevor read them. “A love beyond recall … sound like poetry.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Beyond recall may mean you don’t remember, that you can’t recall, it once it has happened.”

“Possible. I always thought a curse would be something like ‘may your soul rot in hell.’ This sounds pretty good.”

“Me too,” Harris laughed, “Or ‘may your complexion never clear up.”

“Whoa, now that’s nasty.”

At Victoria Park Station the bus was right there.

Without the fog that shrouded it the last time the apartment block didn’t look as foreboding. The long hall smelled of French fries, then hot dogs, then burnt toast.

The door to Trev’s Aunt Nilasha apartment was open.

“I am so happy to see you again Harris. The confusion you were in the last time hasn’t cleared away. Trevor tells me you have had very exciting times since you were last here. ”

They stepped out of their shoes while she closed the door behind them.

“Exciting isn’t quite the word I’d use.” Harris took a gift bag out his shoulder bag. In it were hand cream samples that had come into dE.tail. “This is to thank you for being concerned with my mystery.”

“Really?” she laughed. “There is no need for this.” She opened one and smelled it. “Very pretty. Thank you.”

“Now sit. I have delved into the nature of your curse. One this subtle and yet so strong is very rare.”

“I figured as much. Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.” Harris could remember the curse word for word.

Nilasha gasped. “These are the very words? Repeat them.”

He did.

“How did you obtain this?”

He told her about the diaries and give her the copies of the pages.

“Yes. Yes this confirms what I have learned. Do you understand that it is not a curse. It is a blessing, a gift.” She said as she sat. “You want to give the gift back?”

“I would if I could.”

“I’m of the opinion when it was first uttered it was meant to offer hope for those who found it hard to interest mates. What one acquires, another loses, though. The universe seeks equilibrium.”

“One gets love but loses memory?” Trevor suggested.

“Something like that. We assume that with wishes there is no cost when they are granted. There is always a cost to the receiver.”

“What about a cost to the the giver?” Harris asked.

“You are still looking for a way to rid yourself of it. Have you considered what it may cost you do that. What are you willing to sacrifice?”

“Sacrifice. Like a virgin on a full moon?” Trevor joked.

“I told you Harris, this is a blood bond that has been in your family for centuries. Now that you are sensitive to it I think you have to learn how to live with it. Leave these with me.” She patted the Tobias pages. “They have more to tell us.”

Outside Nilasha’s apartment block Harris turned on his phone. There were three voice-mail messages. One from his Dad to see if he had read the Tobias papers. One from Tavi to remind him of a big project starting the next day and to get plenty of sleep. One from Alex asking for his help for a computer problem.

“Why do people expect me to know anything about computers?” he asked Trevor. “Because I use one all day doesn’t mean I’d know how to fix one. Would you think a nurse knows how to fix an X-ray machine?”

When he got back to his place he returned Alex’s call. Although he didn’t want to follow through on what was there a part of him enjoyed Alex’s voice, enjoyed his memory of the look of him. He had tried watching an ultimate fighter show but the angry animal speed and the lack of discernible rules made it hard for him to follow or enjoy. He’d seen them all over each other on the mat, punching or trying to punch and didn’t know who to be rooting for, if anyone.

“Hey Alex. It’s Harris. I guess you’re at work. Try me around lunch time tomorrow. I have a big work project starting so my phone’ll be off till noon. Bye.”

*38*

When he got to work the next morning his big project was a major overhaul of the Sport Spot advertising approach. No more pitching with spokes-people who were middle-aged pro-golfers. They wanted a younger market. The rough spec drafts of the online and print catalogues were ready. His job was to make the models look healthier, to give their complexions the right glow, the glow that would make buyers buy.

They had two new models: Geoffrey Calligan, multi-gold medalist olympic swimmer and Monica Bostford, who was extending her fifteen minutes of Top Model fame, her appearance on Big Brother last season and the Amazing Race this season. Racing amazed with Geoffrey as they promoted this new line of Sport Spot equipment and accessories around the world.

The catalogue was set up to tell the story of these two showing new recruits through the various equipment as if they were in a gym. The recruits looked as if didn’t they need a gym but that wasn’t his problem.

He was to make sure all their bodies had more eye appeal. Male models were to have less body hair. In the case of Geoffrey it was his job to make his particular ‘package’ look smaller. No one wanted the ab buster to become known as the ball buster because Geoffrey’s ample bulge pulled focus.

A day of flattening shadows, fattening calves, rippling six-packs and electronically nipping out nipple hairs.

#Toronto #amwriting #dating #lgbtq #nanowrimo #novel #Lazarus Kiss #Ontario

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Not Tonight Dear

Not Tonight Dear

I didn’t enjoy it

I never have

but so many do

I had to try it

I thought it might be different

with him

when I said yes

let’s do it

it was no different

I didn’t enjoy it any more or less

that I ever have

I expected

that if I did it often enough

with the right guy

I’d start to like it

start to see why others did it

but it never got more pleasant

in fact

I began to dread it so much

I stopped doing anything

with anyone

I didn’t explain

apologize

I kept it to myself

it seemed pointless to be contradictory

to have to explain it to anyone

I thought it might be better

with him

it wasn’t

I kept that disappointment to myself

even tired to act as if

it was great

oh baby oh baby

he was fooled

filled

I was happy to make him happy

looking forward to being together

yet dreading it at the same time

going through the motions

for the emotional pay off

My take on Law 38 reflects on people pleasing – things we do only to keep other people happy. Some of them are done out of politeness & have little emotional cost. Things like saying ‘good morning’ to a neighbour or asking someone how there are when in fact one doesn’t really care & often they feel it isn’t  any of your business how they feel anyway. We do this lock step of harmless courtesy that is more productive than being clearly indifferent or out right antagonistic.

When someone asks me how I’m doing I can’t even be bothered saying ‘ as you fucking cared!’ We all usually nod and say fine & go on or way. Do I enjoy those moments? Hard to say. But like many people I don’t have the energy or the inclination to challenge those harmless social niceties.

This piece does have a more sexual subtext though than mere social niceties. I know that for women for decades this sort of sexual cooperation for the good of the marriage has been a part of the bargain – putting their pleasure last – as if that made them more noble. Perish the notion they might impugn taxi masculinity’s sexual prowess.

I chat with, sometime meet with, guys who are into ‘things’ that don’t appeal that much to me but I’m willing to try – sometimes things that didn’t work with one guy work very nicely with another – often its a difference in attitude as opposed to technique. Also the speed at which things are expected comes into my willingness.

On the first date, as opposed to the fourth date – give me time to warm up to it – I’m a good communicator & let guys I meet know that directly – I’m not in bait & switch. Some this pieces comes from that sort of bait & switch. A guy says he’s a total top then after messing around becomes a power bottom who is pissed off at me for not going with this – not that I mind a power bottom but this switch is the off switch for me.

There are guys who try to ‘guilt’ you into things – someone, what are you afraid of, don’t you trust me, try it – because to many ‘no’ means negotiate & if you don’t negotiate you are a prude, no fun, not hot enough to begin with, or you should be grateful & give in as a way of thanking them for showing up.

If you are a top master dom who wants to train me as his sub & I say no thanks – it’s not because I am a closed minded prude but it’s because … well actually it’s none of his business why.

Like many of the Laws pieces this reflects some of me, but a past me who was eager for sexual experience & said yes to things & then realize ‘not for me.’  Saying ‘no’ doesn’t mean I have a closed mind but is not an invitation for negotiation either.

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Never Better

Never Better

call back later

not now

soon

another day

eventually

not this morning

just a second

don’t wait up for me

it’ll be worth the wait

antic-i-pation

don’t be late

night time is the right time

off-the-clock

the waiting game

when the stars align

premature

past due

on the dot

a watched pot

it’s over when it’s over

hold your horses

what’s your hurry

it’s about time

it’s now or never

better never than later

Law 35 is a list poem that at first seems random. In fact the rough draft was even more random. Part of the process of making a list poem, for me, is, in revision, to pace the items on the list so that there can be a sense of motion. The better ones even create a vague story line. This one doesn’t 🙂

This is a list of how things get put off while avoiding a commitment to actually doing them. Phrases we use with others to avoid saying NO. Phrases that I when I hear them I recognize as NO. Not merely as a NO for the moment but one that says: at no point in the future but I’m sparing you the harshness of that no by appearing to agree to it at some future point. ‘Don’t hold your breath’ was on the list at one time but I took it out as being too definitive 🙂

 

Some of these are song lyrics, some are iconic – ‘antic-i-pation’ from that sweet moment in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. All are cliche’s that have permeated our language and have become things we say automatically like good morning or how are you – that are serve to let people know you might be listening. The most recent revision lead to the last lines and the title.

It isn’t easy say NO – some people refuse to accept it or take it as a deeply personal affront that demands an explanation & an apology: I’m sorry but I can’t … so we buffer NO with avoidance so we can appear polite – so people will like us – we’ll if my NO results in someone not liking me I can live with, for now.

 

 

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Lazarus Kiss.14

Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.

May you be embraced by a love beyond recall that alters others

and a love within recall that alters you.

kiss

*14*

Alex dug women, breasts and pussy. He’d wake up from dreams about them. The smell, the feel of them in his hands, the feel of their hands on him. He craved the taste of, the the feel of a woman on his tongue, the shudder of a woman’s skin as he did what he knew would make her shudder, make them gasp not to stop. At work during a rough shift he would only have to think of being with his girl Linda and feel re-energized. He could fuck her then twenty minutes later want her again.

He had been hit on by gay guys a few times in the past. Once had to deck a soccer goalie who was too persistent. As a result he lost a job but his sister, Cally, got him in at Story. A man had to learn to live with that sort of thing in this city, in this day and age. He wasn’t interested period. What gay guys did to each other didn’t bother him, as long as they left him alone he didn’t give a shit. If a guy didn’t like pussy it was like a guy not liking beer. He didn’t care.

So when he caught himself almost making a pass at a guy at Story he was shaken. He’d even checked to get the man’s name, Harris Stevens. He had never done that for any of the women he’d met at McBrick. He remembered the name too.

When he got home that night he’d been more energetic than usual with Linda and she liked it. Pushed him on in fact. Their sex took on a new energy and he proved himself the man of her wet dreams. He dug her harsh gasps as he drove himself into her.

Yet he found himself wondering what it would be like to be doing that to Harris. To have a man raking his back, pushing him deeper than he thought possible. Thoughts like that made him work harder to please Linda and she responded with equal vigor. It was the best sex he’d ever had.

The next afternoon he found himself walking along Church street. He felt men look at him. He didn’t like it. They were seeing what they wanted to do his body. He wanted to look back, to look at them, but they held no interest for him. The only man whose face and body that came to him was Harris.

It wasn’t as if Harris had such a great body. Soft in fact. Not too hairy, he hoped. He would catch himself thinking like this at work. When he was with Linda he proved once more that he was a man. A raving, slobbering, cave man heterosexual.

One night he let a female customer pick him up. There was danger. Something the staff weren’t supposed to do but she smelled too good. Nice breasts and her pussy was crazy powerful. They went out behind the bar to do it. Met in the alley under the back patio and she had her hands on his cock so fast he nearly came.

Her tiny skirt hitched up a like belt and her panties an anklet as he plowed into her, shoving her up the dirty wall behind them, hearing cars in the street, conversation from the Story back patio overhead. At any time a light could have come on. She was hot. He met her heat with his. She tipped well too and for the rest of the night he had her smell on him. Each time he took a whizz he could smell her, smell sex.

When he got home he jumped into the shower because Linda could smell sex on him. If he even played with himself she could smell it on his hands.

When he went to work he was anxious to meet Harris again. He had promised to be there. The sexual tension increased and each night Linda was rewarded with the release of his unfulfilled expectations.

That morning when he woke he knew that tonight would be the one. It had to be. The guy would be there. He’d have to be ready. He had vague notions of what men did. It was pretty much what he did with women.

He did an internet search for gay porn. There was lots but he couldn’t look at any one for more than a minute. The fevered action made him nervous. None of it was hot merely busy. There was no kissing, only cocks, mouths. Too young.

He found sites of older guys, “bears,” but these had a slant that was mean, nipples with bizarre clamps on them, leather, half masks. No, this isn’t what he wanted. This wouldn’t work even with women. Sure he was a sex pig but he liked his sex normal. If this was what that Harris expected then it wasn’t going to happen.

Finally, under “vanilla,” he tried a simple scene. Two men meeting on the street. Average looking, unshaved, guys. They talked briefly. The scene jumped to a living room where they are having a beer. Yeah, that’d work. Hands on thighs and they were kissing. Flies down and cocks out. He had to stop. Cocks ruined it. He was enjoying it till cocks came out.

He watched the start a few times. Learning what to do. Eventually he let it go past getting cocks out. Fuck these guys had big dicks. Whose mouth was that wide? Did they have to do special training to get a dick that size into their mouths. But they did it. Linda wasn’t into giving him head. Her mouth never felt big enough for his cock. Not that it was large as these. Did the screen add weight to cock like it did to faces.

He bookmarked it, Linda would enjoy it. Yeah, he’d see if gay porn got her off at all. If guys are into two women making out might be the reverse could be true.

When Linda got home from work Alex decided not to waste that time on internet porn and got right down to the basics. A slow exploration on the edge of the sink that lead into the shower with her and finally on to the bed. If he worked off this edge urge when Harris showed up at Story he’d have no energy or interest. Nip it in the bud.

He let Linda ride him and while she did, he played with her nipples, using his fingers like the clamps he’d seen online.

“Good, baby? You dig dat don’ch ya.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes held his. She reached down and pinched his nipples. She’d never done that before. Her fingernails digging into the flesh.

“Yeah. harder.” He gasped. She obliged and he came. “On m’ face. Smother me wid love.”

She slid off his cock and to his face. He loved the smell of her pussy after he’d been fucking her. As she inched back and forth he pulled off the condom. He was still hard.

His tongue moved slow the way he knew worked best for her. Biting gently. He could tell she was almost there. He craned his mouth a little further along her ass crack and licked her butt hole. An action he knew would send her over the edge, but he only did it on special occasions. She shuddered and gipped his head. He wondered what it would be like to have a man’s tongue do that to him

His back arched, lifting him off the bed. He shot off again without being touched. It felt like his heart had stopped and he blacked out for a moment. He’d have no energy to be interested in anyone let alone this Harris guy.

Another shower and he raced off to work.  He arrived right on time at Story. No sign of Harris.

“Expecting another lady tipper.” Cally teased him.

“Sis, one good tip deserves another.” Alex snorted. He could still taste Linda on his tongue. He hoped he didn’t have box breath.

The hot humid night kept him pretty busy. Side patio, front patio, main house, pool room and the upstairs quiet lounge with it’s back patio. One of those nights when they need extra hands.

At around seven he saw Harris’s pal arrive with a woman he didn’t guess he’d ever seen before. She was hot. They took a table on the upstairs patio. The pal ordered them drinks and left her. The pal met Harris at the entrance when he arrived about fifteen minutes later and they got a table in the main house.

Alex rushed over to wipe that table down. Made eye contact with Harris.

“How are you gents t’night?”

“Fine.” Harris seemed embarrassed.

A couple of other tables emptied and he had to clear them. He was disappointed. After all this expectation he had hoped for more of a reception. That Harris would acknowledge him somehow. But how. With a pat on his ass?

Once drinks and sweet potato fries were served the pal went upstairs.

Alex went directly to the table. “ ‘Bout last week …”

“You remember that do you?”
“Fer sure.”

“I’ve been thinking about it myself. I’m heterosexual.”

“I reckon as much. I don’t know what made me …. ”

“Here’s my number. Call me.”

Alex grabbed the number and shoved it in his pocket. “I will. We c’n meet fer coffee or sometin’.”

“Yeah I think I’d like that. To see you in broad daylight.”

“Tables upstairs Alex.” a server reminded him.

His legs were unsteady as he went up the stairs. He had almost shot off when Harris gave him his number. Linda would be in for it when he got home tonight.

 

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Smooth Man

Law 24: Play the Perfect Courtier

Smooth

he says

you’re so smooth

as his runs his hands along stomach

I think

my belly isn’t flat enough

he says

you’re skin is so soft

so smooth

he is kissing me between his words

he turns me onto to my stomach

stroking my back

I can’t get over how smooth you are

how soft you are

he cups my ass cheeks

squeezes and parts them

I love your ass

firm and smooth

I’m not sure what to say

I don’t want to stop the flow of his words

the flow of his hands

I have been touching him too

he isn’t as smooth as I am

each time I start to reply

he kisses me

let me enjoy you

he says

I can’t tell you are enjoying me

you like my touch

yes I say

I love your ass he say

smooth firm

white

it is so white I bet it glows like the moon

it glows when you touch me

I say

he laughs a little

I can’t say

your skin is so black

it would feel weird

not that I am colour blind

but that isn’t what attracts me to him

it is his fascination for my skin

I never expected to be so fetishized

so sexualized

because of my skin color

because of my smoothness

I don’t see a reason

to turn this into a discussion

about race

I like to fuck white ass

he says

as he lubes my hole

I know

I tell him

you’ve told me that before

he slowly enters me

you like my black cock

you like it in you

yes I answer

you have a wonderful cock

I don’t tell him

it would be a wonderful cock in any color

I don’t tell him

how little I usually like getting fucked

I let him

I invite him

because his tells me

you skin is so amazing

a miracle

I love your ass

while he’s fucking me

I choose to believe him

This piece Law 24 springs from my real life – yes this is one of those autobiographic confessional pieces that people seem to consider ‘authentic’ poetry – only my confession isn’t all that emotionally demanding or deep – much like me 🙂 The notion of perfect courtier easily became what we say to get what we want.

In this case it was a guy I was seeing for a while & our interaction was pretty much as described here. I met him on a gay site – his ‘handle’ was blacktop4U. I clicked then moved on – I figured he was too young & too hung to be interested in me. But on many sites one can see who clicked on your profile & so he contacted me.

He was ultra eager but only interested in one thing – fucking. I invited him over. We met several times after that first encounter & then it ended – knowing too much & not enough at the same time. He was open about his immigrant experience – in particular his distain for other blacks who lacked his ‘class.’ I got bored of his racist biases & ended things. A nice package but to keep my interest I need the whole package not just one part of it. Unlike the poem I never did believe he cared for me as a person but as an ass to fuck. Caring for me as a person is part of the whole package.

He also refused to give me his phone # or even an email address in order to protect himself from identity theft. So we could only get in tough with each other if we both on line, on site, at the same time. His name changed from Rob to Ron to no name. What I call red flags. This was taking NSA too far.

This piece went through several revisions and title changes from the above first version. It is one of the laws that I’ve performed & it is in my chap book After The Falling.

This is the published version:

Man In The Moon

he says

you’re so smooth

he runs his hands

along my stomach

 

I think

my belly isn’t flat enough

 

he says

your skin is so soft

so smooth

he is kissing me between his words

he turns me onto to my stomach

stroking my back

I can’t get over how smooth you are

how soft you are

he cups my ass cheeks

squeezes and parts them

I love your ass

firm and smooth

 

I’m not sure what to say

I don’t want to stop

the flow of his words

the flow of his hands

I have been touching him too

he isn’t as smooth as I am

each time I start to reply

he kisses me

 

let me enjoy you

he says

I can tell you are enjoying me

you like my touch

 

yes I say

 

I love your ass he says

smooth firm warm

ivory heated by afternoon sun

it is so white I bet it glows

like the moon

 

it glows when you touch me

I say

 

he laughs a little

I like to be

the man in your moon

 

I can’t say

your skin is so black

it would feel weird

not that I am colour blind

but that isn’t what attracts me to him

it is his fascination for my skin

I never expected to be so fetishized

so sexualized

because of my skin colour

because of my smoothness

I don’t see a reason

to turn this into a discussion

about race

 

I like to fuck white ass

he says

as he lubes me

 

I know

I tell him

you’ve told me that before

 

he slowly enters me

you like my black cock

you like it in you

 

yes I answer

you have a wonderful cock

I don’t tell him

it would be a wonderful cock in any color

I don’t tell him

how little I usually like getting fucked

I let him

I invite him

because he tells me

you skin is so amazing

a miracle

I love your ass

 

while he’s fucking me

I choose to believe him

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Year End Review!

30-blue-01Is it time for an end-of-the-year wrap up? If you follow me here you’ll already know most of the highlights 🙂 A few things didn’t make it here though. I expanded my regular fwb network with some sweet sexy men. It’s not that I’m overly fussy but if there’s no emotional chemistry it won’t work regardless of technique of physicality.

30-blue-02Flipping though my calendar for 2016 I see things worth mentioning. Seeing Charlie Petch’s wonderful Mel Malarkey in April, getting down to DC for Capturing Fire, reading collections by some of amazing trans writers I’ve met in DC, seeing some great shows at Stratford, judging the dynamic Hot Damn! slams & meeting some excellent new writers. Fan Expo was good fun too.

I came to the end of the 48 Laws of Power & moved on to the 227 Rules for Monks. I finished the rough draft of my Nanowrimo novel Picture Perfect – I now have some 200,000 words to edit – joy.

30-blue-03My WordPress following has slowly, but surely, grown to 175; Tumblr 150; Twitter 190. 257 WordPress posts this year – my busiest year so far. Even a couple of two post days when I was in DC. Fun facts: I get more twitter likes & retweets for links to my WordPress posts that I get actually hits to my WordPress posts. How is that possible? No retweet has resulted in an increase in WP hits either. I get new followers at Tumblr every time I post a set of car pictures – imagine their surprise. Frequently new Tumblr followers are hetero porn spam which I block. I rarely follow back on Twitter – in particular if my new follower is an editor, or an agent specializing in increasing your online presence or an author with a new book coming out soon.

30-blue-04I have to thank Andrew Gurza‘s Disability After Dark for pushing me to look at issues about my own sexuality & sparking many of my blog posts about things easily overlooked. I also thank the trans & queer poets I’ve met & heard at Hot Damn! & Capturing Fire for making my word view even wider than it was before. I can’t match their anger but appreciate the power & need for it to be expressed.

What will 2017 bring? I’ll be blogging here on Tuesdays ‘Lazarus Kiss’ my first Nano novel. I’ve made my flight & hotel reservations for Capturing Fire in June. I also have my FanExpo tickets purchased. Plus a mess of new undies coming from Daily Jocks. So despite Tump – it’ll be a good year.

sample

On Your Knees

it can’t be free

the more it costs

the more it’s worth

it will be within reach of all

through a window

nothing to hide

nothing to give away either

time is as good as money

spread the word

that’ll be enough

spread it far and wide

stand on street corners

yell in basements

cut through the illusion

of now here reality

it can be freeing

to cut yourself loose

of all that holds you

to your ideals

try ours instead

they are built on

ancient tried and proven realities

they wouldn’t last

if they weren’t better than

what you think you think

that’s why they aren’t free

they aren’t cheap

surrender give in give up

it is pointless to resist

this tide has been washing the world clean

before there even was a world

in your heart you know

this is the one true way

the ultimate loss of self

why waste time resisting

we’ll be coming for you

whether you like it or not

so pay up now

or regret it later

we can wait

as it is written

so it will be

admit it

you like

to be on your knees

say please

thank you

July21

6DC0301

kiss-copy

January 3 – launch of Lazarus Kiss – here14257567_1162384753819933_3271661288579707843_o
on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

hot3

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

my first local feature in over a year: location date TBA

it came in

April season 3 FINALS – Friday April 15th Buddies in Bad Times – early show – 7pm startgames

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

June 9-10-11: attending: Capturing Fire 2017 –

dcjan01

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

August 31-Sept.3

fec17-header

https://www.facebook.com/events/526940540845331/

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

nanowrimo_2016_webbadge_winner

http://nanowrimo.org/

money

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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Reality vs Story

brownbetty

This’ll be the last of my NaNo 2016 samples. The edits of Picture Perfect have started in my head. I may make a few notes but the plan is to go back Lazarus Kiss and get that in shape to blog it starting January, 2017. Once that gets done, then I have Cold Dusters which needs a major edits & it’ll be blogged in 2018 – a day at a time.

One of the things I deal with frequently is keeping my characters realistic and the world they live in realistic. The character building I do often reflects elements of my life that may be true to me but may not make for a real world to many people. I don’t drink alcohol, smoke, use recreational drugs, spend time in bars, participate in sports, swear a lot – hence the bulk of my characters end up being non-smoking, non-drinkers etc.

6dcb02They end up living in a sort of ‘clean’ world. I’ve tried to have them pick up a cigarette, do a joint and it comes across as awkward and unnatural. Do I want to stop my conversations & actions with – he lit a cigarette, she poured another drink – I don’t know how to work these habits in casually – smokers have to be chain smokers & that has to be a part of their character.

They end up living in a sort of ‘clean’ world. I’ve tried to have them pick up a cigarette, do a joint and it comes across as awkward and unnatural. Do I want to stop my conversations & actions with – he lit a cigarette, she poured another drink – I don’t know how to work these habits in casually – smokers have to be chain smokers & that has to be a part of their character.

xmasmugsBut as I look at my various Nano writings my characters rarely go to the bathroom either. They do drive, take public transit, rarely listen to music, always watch TV, never complain about the weather. I strive to make them emotionally real while resisting the use of daily minutia to clutter things up. Maybe this’ll be one of the challenges for NaNo 2017 – create a character who casually smokes – but doesn’t light up another cigarette simply so I have more words on the page.cbschool

This last sample continues the dinner date with Stan but I’ve jumped over the dinner (which I wrote) to get them into a compromising position. The Catholic girls’ school (pictured above) in Sydney is real but the tower (as far I know) is world building. I know people who frequently ‘infiltrate’ abandoned buildings.
nano16pic

“I want to show you something. Drive!” Stan ordered.

“Where?”

“To your hotel. Not for what you think.”

There was some traffic on the streets but the city seemed deserted compared to Toronto downtown at 11 p.m. on a Friday night. He parked in the hotel lot.

“This way.” Stan took him by the hand and lead him across the street from the hotel, up a side street to a school yard with a tower on one end. “I have the key.” He unlocked the door. “This was once a Catholic all-girls school. It’s been closed for several years. I’d love to the it over for a real museum. Too much money goes to Louisbourg.”

Dan felt his way careful as his eyes became used to the light. The stair way coiled up along the tower. Light came in through the regularly placed windows. When they got the top landing Stan pushed the door opened.

“Watch for pigeon shit up here.” he said as they stopped out.

They had a view of the harbour in front of them, the two views of the city on either side of them. Dan rotated slowly and took an endless series of panoramic pictures.

“This is a spectacular view.” He said. He leaned over the sides of the tower to get shots looking directly down to capture the reflection of lights on the tower’s windows. “Can we get out to the roof from here?” he asked.

“Roof?” Stan said. “Are you nuts. I wouldn’t even do that in daylight.”

“Something to look forward to next I’m back here.” He leaded against the stone railing. “I love this castle tower feeling. I wish I had hair to let down.”

“In this case your prince has taken the stairs.” Stan kissed him tentatively.

Dan pulled him closer and let the kiss last longer. He was a little dizzy when it ended.

“Mmm.” Stan kissed him again.

Dan didn’t resist Stan’s hands as they squeezed his butt and then felt his crotch, pulling down his fly.

“Slowly.” He pushed Stan away from him. Started to do his fly back up.

Stan knocked his hand away. “That’s not going to happen.” He undid his pants. “You’ve had your eyes on this from when we met this morning. Even when I wasn’t in the room it’s all you’ve been thinking about.” He grabbed Dan just under the chin and yanked him quickly to his knees. “Self-defence 101.”

On his knees Dan whacked the back of Stan’s knees and rammed his stomach with his head. Stan lost his balance and fell on his back. With his pants around his calves he couldn’t get up with Dan’s weight holding them to the ground as Dan stood up.

Winded by the head butt he lay there gasping for air.

“Okay Okay you win.” Stan said groping for the top of his pants. “I totally underestimated you.” He struggled to get up but Dan kept his foot on Stan’s pants.

“Is this why the pool is so small for you here?” Dan asked.

“I … I’m sorry. Really sorry Dan.”

Dan moved back to let him get up.

“I do have a reputation for being a little too aggressive.”

“Attempted sexual assault is more than a little aggressive.” Dan said. ‘Even in the most romantic setting.”

“You aren’t looking for romance. Are you?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Sure.” Stan brushed leaves off his jeans. “I guess I really blew it with you? Or did I even stand a chance?”

Dan followed Stan down the tower stairway. What signals had he missed? Was Stan’s initial flirtation a red flag he should have taken heed of or was he so sex deprived his mind didn’t care.

On the side walk he declined Stan’s offer to walk him back to the hotel.

“I know my way back and you know your way home.”

“You know this isn’t …”

“It is good night. Thank Helena for a great meal.” He turned and walked in the direction he hoped would take him back to the hotel. He glanced back a few times to make sure Stan wasn’t following him.

It was after midnight when he got back to the hotel.

“There’s an urgent message for you.” the deck clerk gave him note.

“Thanks.” he opened the note and it was from Baxter. ‘Answer my texts, asap.’

Dan had turned his phone off while they watched the Cold Canada promo. He checked his texts in the elevator. Baxter wanted to know what he thought of the promo. How urgent could that be?

“They spelt my name right.” he texted back.

In his room he tossed his shoulder bag and camera on the armchair. The camera was still on. He’d forgotten to turn it off. Not exactly forgot as Stan hadn’t given him an opportunity. He picked up and saw that the setting had been changed panoramic to video. So he had a recording of the assault. Would that come in handy in court? To think he planned to send flowers that man the next time he was on the east coast.

He sat on the bed to take his shoes off. There were some white gooey splotches on the cuff of his jeans. When did the little creep have time to shoot off on him. He must have come while Dan was standing on his pants to keep him on the ground. Came without jacking off just by being … dominated. Restrained. By Dan. How weird was that.

(When I had them going up the stairs I had no idea of what was going to happen between these two guys. But it’s always good to get your characters in trouble whenever possible.)

nano16

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Misery Loves An Audience

samp

Law 10: Infection: Avoid the Unhappy and Unlucky

we’ll get together

when you are in a better mood

I’m bored of your problems

it’s as simple as that

it’s almost as if

you try to see if you can

bring me down

but that’s not going to happen

misery loves an audience

and I’m no longer

willing to be the audience for your misery

of course I still like

it’s not a matter of like

yes you deserve to be heard

to be listened to

but I’ve heard enough

I don’t need to hear any more

if you focused on the positive

more often

perhaps things would improve for you

so call me back

when you are in a better mood

not the bitter one

you present to the world

most of the time

yes I know

that makes me just like all the others

the ones who had no time for you

who got fed up with your

never ending crisis

where the solution to one situation

only made something else worse

no I don’t want you to kill yourself

but if you chose to

don’t blame me for that choice

in fact

don’t even mention me in the note

as one of the few people

who were concerned for you

because I know that’ll

be yet another way of saying

we failed you

that I failed you

that life failed you

and if that’s true

I can live with it

even if you can’t

30-gar01

Law 10 goes to against that cultural people-pleasing notion that we must help the struggling, that to avoid negative people is a lack of compassion. We also live in a culture in which negativity is seen as being realistic & to be positive is a sign of being delusional. Negative Nancy vs Pollyanna. I once had a friend say don’t shine on my misery parade (or something to that effect.)

30-gar02In recovery people share more about their struggles & obstacles than their victories. People in general are much more willing to get together & bitch than praise – lots of talk about operations, illnesses or things that went wrong on a vacation.

I noticed this when I recently did jury duty – strangers in the pool ‘bonded’ over shared unpleasantries – negative experiences in hospitals, coffee shops, driving to court. It’s almost as if talking about good stuff is showing off, not showing enough humility.

30-gar03

 

The law also talks about ‘infection’ – the sense that like a cold, negativity is contagious. If it isn’t, there’s also guilt by association. If you are seen too often with depressed people, others will assume you are also a negative person & treat you accordingly. So I have fairly strong boundaries when engaging with gripers.

I don’t put much energy into relationships with people who defined themselves by their ‘victimhood.’ By relationship I mean friendships – in the recovery community I work best with people who are seeking change, which is about 90% of them. People who chose to stay stuck, identified or defined by their hopelessness aren’t usually drawn to me anyway.

30-gar04

 

Misery loves an audience more than it loves company. I’m not a good audience so I make bad company.

 

 

 

soon14257567_1162384753819933_3271661288579707843_o
on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

nanowrimo_2016_webbadge_winner

http://nanowrimo.org/

December – Thursday Dec 1st – Toronto, 8 pm, Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, 12 Alexander St.

14976378_1263645170376130_4297695032579630041_ohttps://www.facebook.com/events/1156455914402108/

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

6DC0301

Early 2017:

my first local feature in over a year: location date TBA

it came in

April season 3 FINALS – Friday April 15th Buddies in Bad Times – early show – 7pm startgames

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

June 2-4: attending: Capturing Fire 2017 –

newcap

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

August 31-Sept.3

fec17-header

https://www.facebook.com/events/526940540845331/

money

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

fence

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Entertaining Mr. James

nano16pic

This sample continues the previous scene  – I’m skipping over the description in which Dan goes back to the hotel gets ready for his date. In this section I’m working, as you might tell, on physical description, & dialogue that seems unforced. I also give a sense of life on the east coast – the price of progress that is usually paid by the people living there not the people making from there. Cape Breton suffered from business that took more out than they were willing to put back in.

29-bow2

There was a swing seat on the covered porch of the house. He was about to sit in it to check the view when the front door opened.

“Don’t let me stop you.” A small, grey-haired woman said. “I’m Stan’s mother.” She offered him hand. He took it gently. “Helena. You must be Dan James.”

“Yes.” He sat in the swing.

“It used to be very nice before they built that.” She nodded towards one of those box buildings. “Used to be a great church there. We could sit and see the sun dancing on the stained glass. Now we see it doing nothing on a call centre.”

Dan got up. “The price of progress I guess.”

“Yes Yes.” Helena shook her head. “Do come in. Stan’ll be down directly.”

It was like stepping into another century when he entered the house. A narrow dark hallway with a grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs.  A mirrored coat-and-hat rack with a bottom seat with a hinged lid. Fussy wall paper that looked hand painted.

“My mother did the wall paper in the hall. She was quite the artist.”

The furniture in the living room was dark red velvet with ornately carved arms and feet. The cushions were all hand embroidered with forest scenes.

A round end table fit snugly into the corner between the sofa and the upright piano along the wall. She turned on the table lamp on the end table. The crystals along the edge of the globe tinkled briefly.

“It is electric.” she laughed. “Most people expect gas.”

On the opposite wall was a flat screen TV slightly angled toward the sofa for better viewing.

“Stan insisted on this touch of modernity.” she said. “Sit. I’ll bring you some tea.”

He realized he was still holding the bottle of wine. He handed it to her.

“Thank you. Would you rather a glass of this now. I rarely imbibe this early in the day.”

“Tea will be fine.” Dan sat on the couch.

“Stan thought you might this family album interesting. I’ll be back in bit.”

Even though she was wearing slacks and a sweater under her apron Dan expected to see a bustle as she left the room. Everywhere he looked there was something to see. A glass bell jar on top of the piano held a small stuffed bird on a twig. There were ceramic figurines on the end table whispering into each other’s ears in the lamp light. There was a white lace doily under everything, a long one stretched along the top of the piano. The was even one under the full-screen TV and a separate one had the remote on it.

Shut glass doors separated the living-room from the dining room. The doors were of paned glass beveled along the edges. He could see that the dark wood dining room table had a lace table cloth as well. Over it hung a small crystal chandelier clearly a mate to the table lamps.

The only noise in the house came from the kitchen. A clink of spoons on china rattled as Helena rolled a tea trolly into the living room. More of the same dark wood and more lace under the tea pot & cups.

“I hope this isn’t too strong. Stan likes it very dark.”

She poured him a cup. “Oh perhaps you would rather a mug. These cups aren’t really designed for men you know. Perhaps you didn’t know that either. Here I’ll get you a decent mug.” She was back before Dan could answer. “I’ll give you a fresh pour. Oh I forgot the milk too. Silly me.” She left the room again.

“Here you go.” Stan brought a small jug of milk in.

“Sorry I didn’t get back in time to be early.”

“That’s fine. Your mother has been looking after me.”

“Not my mother. Helena likes that role though. Cousins. Both my parents are dead. We are related though on my mother’s side of the family. Being an east coaster you know how complex these family trees become.” He poured himself a mug of tea and sat beside Dan. “Cheers.”

“Supper will be ready in ten minutes if either of you boys would like to wash up first.” Helena called from the kitchen.

“Okay Hell.” Stan answered.

“Oh I told you not to call me that in front of others.” she said and giggled.

“Washroom is up stairs.” Stan said. ‘Top of the stairs to the left.”

“Thanks.” Dan got up more to ease the tension. Now that he was there he had no idea if what to say to Stan. He had expected to be dining alone with him not to be stepping back in time and chaperoned by a maiden aunt too boot.

The upstairs he found himself in the present century. Wall paper was replaced with pale green neutral paint. Bathroom was recent fixtures. The large tub did not have claw feet. The lighting was fluorescent. Not a scrap of lace was in sight any where.

The doors to the two bedrooms were open so he glanced into each. The large one opposite the bathroom had to be Stan’s as the pants & shirt he had been wearing that afternoon were tossed on the bed. A single bed.

The other room down the hall looked unused. A similar single bed with a comforter on it. Nothing on the dresser. No shoes on the floor. A guest room. There was a landing at the end of hall with flight of stairs down and flight up as well. A window there overlooked the back yard. The flight down took him into the kitchen.

“Oh I see you’ve found the servants’ stairs.” Helena said. “These old houses!”

The kitchen was also early 2000’s modern. Matching dulled chrome stove, fridge and microwave. The bright red coffee machine popped against the metallics.

“Stan likes his coffee.” she handed him pot holder and then a covered ceramic dish. “Just set that on the table, dear. Anywhere, then you set yourself down on the window side.”

Stan was already at the table. “I see she’s put you to work. We don’t entertain much so she’s gone a bit over board.”

29-bow

 

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The Illusion of Democracy

samp

The Illusion of Democracy

*Law 9: Win Through Your Actions – Not Argument

a lot was said

enough to sway the people

get some of them out to the polls

of course

it will turn out

you were misunderstood

that what your promised

wasn’t exactly what you could do

that due to conditions

beyond your control

you were stuck with things as they are

not as you promised to change them

you weren’t lying

just to get elected

you were simply uninformed

unaware

that the obstacles to be overcome

couldn’t be overcome

with words

with language

with the slippery tongue of future

that you used to unlock the door of success

that you wish you could do

what you planned

really that’s right

you did mean to do it

honestly

it’s not your fault

you can’t move the mountains

you promised to move

we really didn’t expect you to fix

what was broken by others

you certainly didn’t break anything

it was so broken you got there

you had no choice

but to make the best of a bad situation

and if we don’t like

we better shut the fuck up

or you’ll silence us

the same way

others who have been elected

have silenced us

the voice you promised we’d have

isn’t relevant any more any way

now that you have the power invested in you

you’ll do what you think best

which will be better

than what you promised

we just have to give you a break

give you chance

and stop nagging you

with evidence of your lies,

we mean, of your promises

they are taken out of context anyway

so we better give you one more chance

to do what you promised

or it’ll be our fault

for lacking patience and foresight

and forgivness

why are we so bitter

so cruel

you meant well

and that’s enough

23-gar01What law 9 triggered was the notion what might win through actions as well as arguments. In Canada, when I wrote this, we’d been through a recent federal election. All those speeches made to get votes, promises of change, of action. Same speeches I’ve been hearing for years only the faces, & little else, has changed.23-gar02

It’s the illusion of democracy that we vote for because the power is always hidden – not that I think there’s some sort of Illuminati conspiracy. But governments end up serving those with power already, not the disenfranchised – the poor, the marginalized. In another piece I write about how when those marginalized get power their first act to marginalize those who once were in power. I’m a cynic.

New governments are judged harshly after being in office for a year. Already the Liberals are being castigated for not fulfilling certain election promises. The excuses are the same as previous powers – the mess we had to clean up by the x party was so great; or there’s more to this than you know.23-gar03

Currently we’re in the midst of the backlash after the US election in which candidates are backtracking on their track records by saying things like “out of context” “you’re too easily offended” or even “I never said that” even when there is footage of them saying exactly that. No one no one wants to vote for the lesser of two evils. Its seems all politicians are hucksters but opting out of the system doesn’t spare one from living under it.23-gar04

soon

14257567_1162384753819933_3271661288579707843_o
on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

nanowrimo_2016_webbadge_winner

http://nanowrimo.org/

December – Thursday Dec 1st – Toronto, 8 pm, Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, 12 Alexander St.

14976378_1263645170376130_4297695032579630041_ohttps://www.facebook.com/events/1156455914402108/

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

6DC0301

Early 2017:

my first local feature in over a year: location date TBA

it came in

April season 3 FINALS – Friday April 15th Buddies in Bad Times – early show – 7pm startgames

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

June 2-4: attending: Capturing Fire 2017 –

newcap

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from Capturing Fire 2015: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCx5KD1eDccdjdTdQ28kZRNg

August 31-Sept 3 FanExpo

fec17-header

money

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

princeball

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/topoet