Always

Always

the sex was good

but at this stage

for me

good wasn’t enough

I craved more than contact

 

he certainly enjoyed 

the flesh on flesh

but not nearly as much

as he enjoyed the download

the secret assignation 

his exploration of excitement

of things his wife didn’t provide

 

I was his walk on the wild side

that made the cultural box

he felt he had no way of avoiding

bearable

I was a non-threatening opportunity

that had nothing to do with me

as a person

as a spiritual entity

 

he only wanted the release

when he wanted it

his travel time here

often took more time

than we were actually together

time that was clearly

a vitally needed context

 

the sex was good

but for me

good wasn’t enough

I want desire

chemistry

there wasn’t enough chemistry 

for me to want more

not enough chemistry

to get an yen for him 

 

now to tell him

the next time he calls

and I know he will call

they always do


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Not Relevant

Not Relevant

why I lost interest

wasn’t relevant 

neither of us was that invested

or at least I wasn’t

he was a good technical fuck

he made it clear how much he enjoyed

the time we spent together

but as much as he filled me up

he never fulfilled me

he was chatty enough

but conversations went his way

he listened to his voice

his point of view

would ask me the same questions

give his answer

talk over mine

so I lost interest

 

I blocked him on dating sights

rather than go into why 

I lost interest

why I found his paranoia

around identity theft 

made me distrustful of him

he knew too much for the innocent

his racism couldn’t be confronted

as he’d merely repeat his view

as if I had said nothing

to call him out

meant that I was the racist

 

that was a few years ago

I heard nothing from him

then one day there he was

on my door step

having changed his online identity

he’d made contact with me

never let on who he was

did a few things differently

gave me his email

which he’d never done before

though I still didn’t know his real name

the date was set

and there he was

with a slightly smug smile

 

I wasn’t flattered

but was amused

he was still a good technical fuck

friendly enough

not a listener

talked over my replies

to questions he’d asked 

when he left

I blocked him again

somethings don’t change

and he was one of them


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Out With The Bathwater

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Out With The Bathwater

he wanted to drink

my bath water

or so he said

I never did take him up on it

if he had said that

after a few dates

I might have found it

appealing  almost flattering

but to start with that

was a bit much

 

it was the sort of

coming on too strong

I call ‘a red flag’

similar to sending a phone number

in the first message

or as the first message

not even ‘a call me’

or ‘I liked your profile’

I’m not going to call that number

 

he wanted to drink

my bath water

when I asked him why

he said that it was pretty obvious

the water

was something that had touched

every inch of my body

the way he wished he could

 

I was amused

intrigued

his pics were blurry

close ups of his nipples

what I assumed was his dick

no face pic

I asked for a face pic

never heard back from him

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El segundo primer beso

El segundo primer beso

I knew that I missed your kiss

but I didn’t realize

how much I needed it

 

that came as a surprise

much like the moment

when it was clear

that our last kiss

was almost the last kiss

 

maybe neither us knew

it was to be the last for awhile

it might have a lasting memory 

until I had that dream of you

 

we hadn’t spoken for two years

after that kiss

not that it ended in anger

it just ended

 

first I stumbled upon

a short clip from a porno

a Latino man 

with a beautiful face

talking Portuguese to the camera

while playing with his dick

his eyes

his smile

his sexual eagerness

was so much you

though you spoke Spanish

but that look

that invitation

is the same in any language

 

then I had a dream

of you emotionally hurting

I dreamt it twice more 

before I had to reach out 

 

we reconnected shyly

gladly

then hungry for that first kiss

deeper

than the memory of the last

‘Based on a true story’ 🙂 One of the dumbest things I ever did was when I stopped seeing  … um … let’s call him Beso to keep it simple. I’d meet him on line & our first meeting was chaste & our second was incendiary. His work shifts made it difficult for us to see each regularly so each time was special. He’d even been to my house for supper a few times. Then it ended without warning.

 

Being an all or nothing guy I unfriended him etc. But I couldn’t get him out of mind. He was one of the  few men who I wrote poems for/about. As this piece says nothing happened but it just ended. The porno clip is fact – I watched it several times & each time Beso haunted me. 

I had that dream. I doubt if I would have recontacted him without the dreams. I friended him again on FB, asked if he wanted to meet up to catch up. We met and went for coffee & creme caramel. We came back to my house and boom – incendiary. Some thing sin his life had changed: work etc. But the chemistry hadn’t changed.

I could have let my stubbornness keep us apart forever. The thought of dying & never seeing him again did away with that stubbornness. Life is short enough as it is & inviting as much joy into as one can makes perfect sense. Even if that joy doesn’t fulfill all exceptions what it does fulfill is enough & always leaves me wanting more. 

 


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No Blow

No Blow

so this is how it ends

no bang

no whimper

but with a snort

two lines of blow

careful spread 

on your cell phone screen

 

that you did 

this sort of thing

didn’t bother me particularly

as long as you did it

without me as an audience

as long as you did it

outside of my residence

 

when you aren’t here

it’s not a part of my life

not a part of our play

our play is best confined

to the two of us

substances

are a third party

that quickly becomes the focus

it takes over

demands that whatever else might happen

it is the only thing that counts

 

me being in the room

was a distraction

you being in the room

was now a disappointment

and when you left

I was relieved to see you go

not wishing you could stay longer

 

those two lines

closed a door

never open to you again


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My Time

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks. Who knew the simple life could be so complex. This another of the 92 pācittiyas.

My Time

I am a creature of routine

no matter how hot the guy

I am unavailable at certain times

often the only time they are free

which they take personally

even though all we know

about each other are profile pics

what we claim our likes are

 

they act as if my time boundary

is playing hard to get

or just playing them

a sign I’m not really interested

all I want is their desire

not their bodies

 

one guy said ‘if you’re going to be that way

good luck because you’ll need it’

as if my schedule 

was a character fault

one called me inflexible

though I had suggested other times

other days

his inflexibility was of no concern to him

whereas mine was arbitrary

whatever 

I have a life

I don’t set it aside for dick

or perhaps they see it

as control

that I am making it clear

I am the dominant, the top,

not some submissive bottom bitch

gaping eager for their randy visit

 

even I am

it’s still my time

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Served

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Served

His texts

unpredictable

are always welcome

affectionate sexy and energetic

generous lingering and infrequent

 

otherwise he is average

looks – okay

dick – average

married and working

looking for the occasional dick

 

I usually say sure

though sometimes

the unpredictable falls

when I’ve already made a date

with someone more predictable

also affectionate sexy and energetic

a delicate delicious choice

 

having said yes to one

do I agree to another

each at a different time of the day

do I want to risk

the law of diminishing returns

or is that self-slut-shaming

 

one a day satisfies

the physical craving

the opportunity for two

satisfies the ego

but first come first served

is the best policy

which satisfies morality

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The Best

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

The Best

‘you will be my third today’

he was proud of his virility

‘I save the best for last’

I wasn’t interested in being his best

‘you have a nice ass’

 

not that I thought he was

anything more than a fun fuck

but to hear of his conquests

wasn’t impressing or arousing me

 

we’d met on line

he was a 30 something

whose nickname was blktop4u

blk meaning black

it started with him messaging me

I had glanced at his profile

even though there was no pic

it laid out the facts honestly

 

the first time we hooked up

I didn’t expect him to show

but he did

he was as he claimed to be

though his profile

didn’t say he needed to fuck

three times a day

 

that fact didn’t come out for a year

we’d meet every month or so

I’d hear about his background

but he was so fearful of identity theft

we could only make contact

via the dating site

no cell phone

no email

 

sometimes longish text chats

on the site

then he’d show up

as arranged

until one day he didn’t

he contacted me two days later

to explain

he’d had a better offer

in a deluxe condo

 

so my interest changed

next time we chatted

and he was so keen to play

I declined

I declined another two times

then said sure come on over

but if you’re a no show

it’s no go ever again

things were okay

for another year or so

but I began to discount

everything he told me

there was no truth

in the shifting life of a man

wouldn’t even tell me his name

okay until he told me

‘you will be my third today’

‘I save the best for last’

 

I declined to be part of his body count

said no

he asked why

I replied

you can’t always get what you want

then blocked him

because he wasn’t the best

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Our Song

Our Song

It was a mistake 

to look at his music collection

I just prayed 

that none of it would be used

as background music 

tastes I don’t share

don’t care to share 

his love of musicians

of song writers

I can not take seriously

safe banal tepid stuff

so middle-of-the-road

I’d want to hit the next telephone pole

rather than listen to this music

 

it came as a bit of a surprise

as we were compatible 

in so many other ways 

he asked me what I thought

was there something I’d like to hear

this is his favourite

am I familiar with it

and I said yes but let’s not bother

we don’t need distractions

which he agreed was a wise choice

 

I didn’t offer any opinion

didn’t denigrate his taste

or rather the lack thereof

I wasn’t there for music appreciation 

I didn’t intend to let anything

disturb

distract

from the momentum of the opportunity

Anyone who follows my blog knows my love of music. Check out my Monday posts where I’ve been discussing my music collection – pop, classical, jazz & beyond. I like so much music one might conclude I have no discernment. As this piece reveals I do have preferences that can affect my emotional response to people, places & opportunity.

 

This piece is based on actual experiences. More than once I have glanced as someone’s wall of cds & lost my interest in them – you know industrial grind is good for 3 minutes, thank you. Ditto death metal. Though I was as surprised to meet gay men into those genres, I wasn’t about to invite that as mood music for making out. When I tell someone I like jazz and they offer me Kenny G I know it’s time to move on.

 

 

I have not pursued some non-sexual friendships based on music taste as well. I believe that music reflects something about the person & what some music reflects to me a red flag. If I’m not into it I’m not going to subject myself to it just to get along.

 

 

But I’m not a music taste educator either, if you want education read about what I enjoy my Monday blogs. My primary purpose in most situations in to be present & if it is sexual, to participate & if the music is too loud, or distracting I’ll opt for silence. I have walked in & out of restaurants if the music isn’t what I want to listen to while I’m eating. If the music isn’t something I want to listen to while being eaten I’ll ask for it to be changed without saying turn off that fucking awful music. 

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Variable Cling

For the final Disability After Dark podcast for 2017 Andrew Gurza talks about his clinginess, which, for him, stems from childhood abandonment experiences. I think for many of us it comes from that dichotomy of craving intimacy while not wanting to be emotionally vulnerable. I know my early coming out sexual experiences were clouded by the sense that being held & touched was what I craved but because it was so ‘evil’ ‘unnatural’ something I didn’t deserve it. It took me a while to get over the feeling that men were doing me a favour – there were only having sex with me because they felt sorry for me not because they too wanted to have sex.

Remember too that I was growing up in a time when same sex sex was illegal. Getting caught wasn’t merely embarrassing but men were being imprisoned or institutionalized for their unnatural proclivities. One could literally get away with murder, assault, by saying the victim was queer – no proof was needed.

So for some of us clinginess comes from the desire to be accepted by another man & wanting more of that from the same man. Comfort builds trust, the greater the trust the deeper the intimacy. So the first men I had sex with I was eager for a repeat. I quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen. If phone #s were exchanged then maybe a second time might be possible. Those were the days when everyone had landlines, some of us didn’t have answering machines – so you could be waiting hours for the phone to ring or taking the risk of being the one to call.

These days one isn’t so trapped in one spot waiting for that call – we have our phones with us constantly & are constantly checking to see if there’s been at least a text from Wonderful.

I work on keeping a balance with the men that I am involved with – weekly texting seems to be contact enough for me & them. If it is more frequent it’s usually because they initiate or there’s a reason beside saying ‘Hi drop’em buster.’ Some opportunities have gone nowhere because I am a slow texter thanks to my flip-phone.

Variable cling as opposed to static cling – static clings at any opportunity  – variable clings only when invited. Even if I want that constant contact for reassurance I accept the amount of contact that anyone wants that keeps the lines of communication open. 

Light At the End of the Closet

some days I check my email

every hour I’m awake

in case there’s one from him

but he’s a fucking crappy communicator

and I like it

I like the frustration

I know he isn’t stringing me along

I check my voice mail too

not as frequently

he can’t leave messages

when he calls he has to use pay-phones

he has one of those sensitive jobs

can’t be out

can’t be caught out

I understand this

and I like it

I like the hidden secret

the old timey quality of his closet

of me being totally out of mine

I can slip into his

and not feel the need to force him out

he knows this

he is always apologizing

sorry about an unending work load

that lets him hide

that makes him hide

I like this hiding   sometimes

he says I’m ray of light

more like a shaft, I joke

I like this frustration

knowing I can feel it

not need to judge force refuse

be present

be in my own open life

sort of free

sort of   because

if  I see a crying child in the street or a mall

I have to back away

gay men are automatically suspect

can never be proven innocent

I back away into that closet

I don’t like that frustration

till I check my email

and there’s one from him

 

 

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