Bruins!

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Reamonn "Supergirl"

Mistaken

He gripped the cord with his teeth,
Wrapped it tightly around his arm,
And watched wide-eyed,
As his veins bulged.
Rotted teeth, yellowed eyes,
Were visible signs of his distress,
And the Eye of his Heart was blind,
But he believed one last rush,
Would send his troubled soul,
Into the Abyss of The Amen.

(55)

Euphoria

You were so beautiful,
In my dream last night.

Or was that a fantasy?

Your blue eyes shone,
As you stared into mine.

Sweat dripped from your body,
And sizzled when it hit mine.

Euphoria has new meaning,
now.

Weathering A Storm

She sat straight up and almost leapt off the bunk when the pain in her head woke her. The pain was excruciating, her nostrils were swollen shut, her head was pounding with the beat of her heart. She didn’t regret the last coke binge. She knew it would be at least three months before she could have more. Although, deep in her mind, she believed she would kick it this time - this ninety days would do it. She wouldn’t crave it when she got out this time.

Anxiety filled her senses as she struggled to breathe, sucking the air in through her mouth, trying to push it out through her nostrils. If only she could clear her nostrils, the pain would subside, she’d be able to sleep again. They wouldn’t give her anything for the pain; they didn’t care if she lived or died, she was just another inmate to them, and all inmates had some kind of pain they were dealing with.

She calmed herself with thoughts of Jesus as she slowly pushed the air out of her nostrils. She believed things would be better the next day. Her nostrils would open, the pain would go, and she’d start to recover. Maybe He would help her through the night. After all, she did accept Him into her heart one more time before the sentencing.

The Ant

Go to the ant, you sluggard;
consider its ways and be wise!
It has no commander,
no overseer or ruler,
yet it stores its provisions in summer
and gathers its food at harvest.

~ Proverbs 6:6-8

The Dragonfly

I had no idea that I was shooting The Dragonfly as I stood there filming this scene at the Kissimmee Breakwater! The name of the airboat came into view as it backed away from the dock.

Plum Island, Three

I'm still going through the pile of letters I wrote to you from Germany, Angie. I'm so glad you gave these to me, they are like the historical record of my time in the Army, bringing back memories long since filed in the back of my mind. I found this letter interesting because of the way I described some of the people I interacted with while there.

Dear Angie,

I miss you so much! I haven’t heard from you in quite awhile. I hope all is well.

I’ve been reading my bible in search of the truths that I know will help get me through this time away from you, as well as this tour of duty. I’m also mining the verses to gain insight into how to deal with some of the personalities I am encountering.

My buddy Bob is a drinker and a scoundrel; a whoremonger, a liar and a cheat. How can he be my buddy, you ask? I’m not sure, but it must have spiritual meaning for either him or me. I try to be a positive influence in his life, however, I am severely tested in his presence. He encourages me to do what he does. “No,” I say, emphatically! Bob’s quest is for the immoral woman Solomon refers to in Proverbs, my quest is for the woman called Wisdom. I do, will, and must hold to the belief that no temptation will be put before me that I cannot withstand.

The First Sergeant - the Sarge, as he’s affectionately referred to by the troops - is a despicable, unpleasant fellow, that tries my patience with his meanness, foul speech, and lack of respect. He treats me like dirt, consistently giving me the worst assignments possible, while sparing my buddy Bob from any extra duty at all. I have Philippians 2:14-15 ingrained in my mind, I recite it many times daily, “Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, without fault in a crooked and depraved generation …” Still, it is a most distressing situation.

Then there is Pace, a rabid bigot that has threatened me on several occasions without provocation. “A soft answer turns away wrath,” I tell myself. However, I will defend myself if the brute lashes out and he will be defeated.

I don’t mean to burden you with talk of these characters, Darling, but I do feel better putting it down on paper and sharing it with the one I trust the most.

Song Of Songs, as you know, is the book of refuge for me. I save my daily reading of it for last because it never fails to bring me peace of mind as it brings thoughts of you, my Beloved. For me, our summer on Plum Island is epitomized by this verse:

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride;
I have gathered my myrrh with my spice,
I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;
I have drunk my wine and my milk.

Oh, to be able to hold you, kiss you, caress you!

I’ll write again tomorrow, my darling. My heart pounds for you, as ever!

With all my love,

Doug

P.S. I think the Sarge is queer. I’ve heard rumors.

P.P.S. Tell your Mom I said Hi!

Video Post Card #2

Dear Dragonfly,

I'm sitting here by the lake in Celebration, Florida, reading Bukowski. Suddenly thoughts of you fill my mind. A vision of you appears on the bench next to me, Yuki is in your lap purring softly as you gently caress her. I blink my eyes in disbelief ... and you are gone.

Wish you were here.

Love, Tequila

Video Post Card #1

Dear Dragonfly,

I'm here at the House Of Blues in Downtown Disney, thinking about you, thinking about your exquisite poem, remembering some of those lines:

here and now
in a blues bar
I sit in a corner
smoking

*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

Wish you were here.

Love, Tequila

Witchy Woman

Writing Assignment, Part 3

Subtitle: Invisible

“Listen, Doug, you can’t fail a writing assignment, but that was not what I assigned,” said John. “I didn’t want to read about your sex life with your old girlfriend.”

“You told me to avoid censoring myself, to write what I felt, and that’s what popped into my head when I thought about Anne,” I responded.

“Okay, fair enough, let‘s move on,” he said. “You’re next assignment is to write about an invisible woman. It can be flash fiction, a fifty-five, one hundred, whatever. Have fun.”

I thought about this assignment as I drove home. Does she see her boyfriend, husband, boss, pastor in a compromising situation? Is she a thief stealing precious jewelry? Is it a woman I know? My mother, daughter, ex-wife, old girlfriend? Is it a witch, Mother Nature, a nymph? God? The Devil? I couldn’t remember anyone ever suggesting to me that the Devil could be a woman. Why not? The Devil roams the earth seeking to destroy anything in his path, that’s why he’s called the devourer. I’ve felt that way about a few women in my life. I chuckled to myself as I stopped thinking and turned up the music. Witchy Woman was playing - she’s been sleeping in the devil’s bed.

My computer was on when I got through the door, so I sat down and knocked this one out in a hurry:

Invisible

I know you're there, bitch.
Nobody else can see you,
But I can.
You’re sitting on the bench,
Driving behind me,
Walking after me,
Watching me,
Waiting for your chance,
To wreak havoc in my life.
Fuck you!
You will never succeed,
Because I know you are there.
I can see you,
You fucking bitch!

~ 55 ~

Storm Warning

A prudent man sees danger
and takes refuge,
but the simple keep going and
suffer for it.

~ Proverbs 22:3

Into The Heavens

Writing Assignment, Part 2



Subtitle: Anne

When we arrived at her place, I was stoned and so was Anne. The Thai Stick made everything surreal. The effect came slowly, building into a beautiful, indescribable mellowness that lasted several hours. My mind raced with the same thoughts of ripping open her blouse; I felt like I should have been frantically groping her, letting my passion consume us, but I was calm. We were calm. I could sense her lustfulness. I followed her around the apartment, chatting and laughing, until she went to the stereo and put on some music.

Nights In White Satin was playing as she turned from the stereo. I kissed her. This was our first real kiss. There was a little peck on the lips one time - the one that left me wanting more - but this was our first passionate kiss. I pulled her tight to my body and felt her warmth shoot through me. I was floating. We started moving with the music. Everything was in slow motion. And I love you, Yes, I love you, Oh, how, I love you filled the air as I unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. My desire burned. I removed her bra and savored every moment as my tongue slid slowly across her skin and found her hardened nipple. The rush that coursed through my body sent me into the Empyrean. That was the night we became lovers. That was the night I tasted heaven.

Gone In A Flash

Writing Assignment, Part One

Subtitle: Anne

“Tell me what she looked like,” he quipped. “Don’t say, ‘You should have seen this chick, she was gorgeous,’ that’s not good enough.”

John is an unconventional teacher. I like him.

“I haven’t seen her in years,” I replied. “I didn’t even know her that long; a couple of years at most, she was gone in a flash, and I don‘t have any pictures of her.”

“Excuses, excuses. When you get home, sit down and think about her, then make a list of her attributes. Just describe her face. You'll use it in the next piece you write. That‘s your assignment,” he said.

Thinking about Anne turns me on, and I have a perfect vision of her in my mind, but describing her on paper is another story. I’m determined to improve my writing skills, however, so here’s the list:

1) Red hair.
2) Blue eyes.
3) Lots of freckles, but they didn‘t detract from her beauty. (Too subjective?)
4) Milk white skin. (She is Irish.)
5) Teeth - perfectly straight and white, but if one looks closely one can see that extensive orthodontic work left an unmistakable impression.
6) Five feet, eight inches tall.
7) Her posture was off a little, apparently she had a touch of Scoliosis and the curvature was never fully corrected.
8) Curvaceous. With a little bit of baby fat on her belly, she wasn’t skinny and she wasn’t fat, she was just right - her butt was full and firm and she had the most beautiful tits.

Oops. I lost it at number six, I’m supposed to be describing her face, not her entire body. Getting back to her tits, though - before I finish with her facial features - they were large and they were firm. From the moment I met Anne, I wanted to fondle her tits, cradle them in my hands, kiss them, suck them, lick them. One evening when I was driving her home, she asked me to stop at a clothing store so she could pick up a couple of things, and that’s when my desire reached a boiling point. Normally I waited in the car and took a few tokes from the joint we shared, but this time I went in with her to look around. “It is so difficult to find a bra,” she said. “They’re so big.”

My eyes shot straight to her chest. “They are,” I whispered. “And beautiful.”

She blushed.

She stoked up the roach and we finished it off on the way to her house. We hardly spoke. I wanted to pull over and rip her blouse open, take her nipple in my mouth and suck it till she came, but I controlled myself.

When we arrived at her place, I …

To be continued.

Lunchtime Texting, Two

Me: Baby, it's starting to get busy here. Are you getting close?

Ten minutes later ...

Me: Baby?

Ten minutes later ...

Me: You really dumped me with a fucking text message??

[Lunch For One]

Plum Island, Two

After reminiscing about our first summer on Plum Island the other day, I went home totally absorbed in thoughts of you. I went straight to my closet, got out my box of personal history, and started rummaging through it. I found a whole stack of letters I had written to you. This one really touched a nerve:

Dear Angie,

I miss you so much! You’re probably tired of me starting my letters like that by now, but I am compelled to constantly remind you, lest you forget and think I’m here in Germany enjoying our time apart. I think of you all day. I wish I had the words to describe my thoughts of you. I wish I could be as eloquent as Solomon. “How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes are doves.” You are my Shulammite woman, Angie.

When I go to bed at night I lay staring at the ceiling, imagining it is a movie screen. I see us on the screen walking along the beach on Plum Island, holding hands, touching, caressing, kissing. God, I want that so badly right now. To be able to feel you in my arms would be heaven. To see your eyes shining in the moonlight! To feel your warm skin against mine! I adore you, Angie. Please don’t ever forget that.

I’ll write again tomorrow, my darling. My heart pounds for you!

With All My Love,

Doug

P.S. The guy on the bottom bunk snores! He’s always interrupting our movie.

P.P.S. Tell your Mom I said Hi.

I still love you, Angie. You are forever in my heart.

Lunchtime Texting

Me: Baby, I’m at Panera waiting for you.

Her: Sorry, Hun, I’m not going to make it.

Me: Why, what’s up?

Her: It was really fun and hot until September, then I felt that you weren’t here anymore. I wanted to be wrong but now I'm sure I'm not.

Me: I don’t understand.

Her: You’re not hot anymore.

Me: Oh, that explains everything. WTF?

Her: I wish you a lot of fun wherever and however and with whomever you’re getting it.

Me: Baby, you think I’m cheating on you?

Her: I liked you a lot, and had lots of fun, thank you. I have to go now, sad, but I'll get over it.

Me: You’re joking, right?

Her: Kisses, most charming man, I'll miss you. Over and Out

Me: What time will you be here?

Plum Island

I sat on the bench and reminisced after I shot this video. I thought about the summer we met on Plum Island; about how we would play in the outdoor shower while our parents played on the beach. I remembered every little detail. You looked so hot all soaped up. I loved touching you, kissing you, caressing you. Your nipples would get so hard. I wonder if you ever think about those days.

Shallow

Shallow

Was it really twenty years ago? Could it be?
You were so genuine back then.
So beautiful. So perfect.
My heart melted the day,
We met at Popeyes,
And I looked into your soul.
How could it all go wrong?
You personify ugliness now.
Stupid, shallow, sick, and pathetic,
Describe you in my mind.
Why?

~ 55 ~

Ripples, Part Two

“Baby, I’m kinda stuck in traffic,” I told her, when she answered the phone. “The weather isn’t looking too good for a picnic, either.”

“Guess what I was doing?” she asked, with a laugh.

“Ahhh, let me see - making sandwiches for the picnic?” I responded, also with a laugh. I knew better, by the sound of her voice.

She went on to tell me that the orgasm she had just before I called made her legs shake and her pussy jump. Getting off was something she not only enjoyed, but also loved to talk about. She had to experience multiple orgasms every day, whether it was with me, her hand, or her vibrator. It turned me on to know about them too, and she knew that.

Suddenly I was out of the traffic jam and traveling much faster. I wanted her next orgasm to include me …

Ripples, Part One

“A picnic,” she said, when she called. “I want to take you to my favorite park for a picnic. The park on the bay”

Park on the bay? Never heard of it. No sex today? I was used to spending the morning in bed with her. And the afternoon. She said she had to work the late shift and I wouldn't see her later. Will we spend any time at her place before we go on the picnic? Will I get to touch her, kiss her, feel her, taste her? My mind raced with these thoughts as I sped along with the music blaring. I just wanted to be near her, though. I wanted to savor her aroma. She always smelled so nice. A picnic would be alright. Maybe the park will be secluded …

Gotta Have A Coke

She was sprawled across the bed, just like every other day that week, her nose caked with coke, as her mind pondered, searched, drifted. Another snort through the dirty dollar bill, waiting for the rush that never came. “I need more,” she thought. She glimpsed herself in the mirror as she chopped another rock with the fine blade she treasured. “Stupid ass … why?” she asked herself. “Why?”

“Accept Jesus into your heart right now,” she heard Pat say. “Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, stop right now, place your hand on the TV, and repeat this prayer with me. Ask Jesus into your heart and be saved right now.”

Every day she watched the 700 Club. She liked Pat. She liked the stories he told. She wanted the touch, the healing, the connection. Every day she put her hand on the TV and repeated the prayer. Every day.

She straightened a long line this time, tightened the bill, and snorted until she could no longer inhale. “Fuck,” she thought. “I can’t feel Jesus, I can’t feel the coke, I CAN’T FEEL SHIT!”

Sunday Morning

Smoke was swirling above her head as she sat staring into the distance, playing with the black pearl necklace that adorned her slender neck. The secluded corner she had chosen offered a superb view of the dance floor, but she looked through the people, not at them.

“She’s so beautiful,” I murmured to myself, as I edged closer to her table. “Dance?“ I asked. My heart stirred as her blue eyes met mine and a smile crept across her face. Her hand was gentle as I took it in mine and led her to the dance floor. Blood rushed throughout my veins, and a gnawing gripped my gut, as our bodies came together and swayed slowly with the music. She was warm. Her milk white skin was soft. I was intoxicated by her scent. “Come home with me,” I whispered in her ear.

An early morning mist settled over the tree tops as we scurried along the dimly lit boulevard. The asphalt was moist and glowed eerily with the light cast down from the lampposts. I felt like a character in a Digital Dragonfly poem. Lust was building in my mind. I stopped abruptly and kissed my blue-eyed beauty passionately as I pressed her against a lamppost. She tasted so sweet. All I could think about was running my tongue all over her petite body. We broke apart and quickly continued on our way. A church bell sounded in the distance, striking four just as we arrived at my apartment …

Brown Eyed Girl

Brown Eyed Girl

I thought of you as I sat
Listening to Van Morrison.
It’s amazing how much can run through
One’s mind in a minute …
The night you showed me Toledo,
Your brown eyes sparkled,
As we sat by the water’s edge.
Your lips were moist,
Your mouth was warm,
My release was euphoric.
Do you remember?

~ 55 ~