Category Archives: Thoughts & Poetry

I Want You Here

…And the other night I dreamed that I lay beside him on the embankment, and we talked and laughed…

He may never let you back around again, but I still want you here
I tried to run away from you, I tried to flee, but it was no use
I’ll never be free of you
Come for me and make me yours, and I’ll give to you the most precious thing I have to give
I’ve hid nothing from this world
I wrote my poems for you, I wrote my novel for you
And to anyone who asks, I’d gladly tell them that I love you more than life itself, because I do
My heart will always war with the love I feel for two men, but I’d let none other touch me, because I’d want to come pure to you
I’m a bit older and wiser now, but these hips are still full, this waist still tiny,  and these breasts are still lush
I’ve fought you for so long now, but I can fight no more
I gave up, I gave in, and I told you how I still loved you
I’ve cried in pain without you here, and there’s nothing anyone can ever do to stop that
If I belonged to you, how much I could love you
I loved you as my family, and I loved you as a man
I thought it was all over, but I’m still falling deeper every day
I don’t want you to be gone anymore, I want you to stay
Because I want you here

“I looked at him then. He looked so good. I loved everything about him. I felt heat course through my body as I sat there with him, talking to him and quietly observing him. I began to get flushed. I felt so much inside how I longed to take all of him in, to receive him for who he was and who he might ever be- to accept and love him… Yes, I thought. Once the leaves fall from the trees, if he can prove himself real to me, then I shall give myself to him.” (Hunter, B.A., Memoirs of a Traditional Woman’s Rights Activist, 2016)

All or Nothing/A Woman’s Heart 

“And I remember so well that night so long ago the way he put his hand up high on the screen, and how when he walked through that door, how he took with him my heart.”

I never asked where he went or what he did. I never even cared. I remember it so distinctly the way his bad-boy game charmed me and melted away my heart. And I remember so well that night so long ago the way he put his hand up high on the screen, and how when he walked out that door, how he took with him my heart. I know that men will play games if we allow them to. And when we take into account that the most heinous of all wrongdoings are usually committed by those we love and trust the most, the portrait of humanity becomes even more bleak. But it will either be real or it will be nothing. He’ll say it real and he’ll say it true or he’ll get nothing at all. And if he doesn’t truly want me a part of his life, then he will live without me in it. For a woman to guard her sexuality so fiercely that any man lying with her will know that he is truly special, truly unique. Yes, truly irreplaceable. For indeed I may be a fool, but never the kind he may think me to be.

“For a woman to guard her sexuality so fiercely that any man lying with her will know that he is truly special, truly unique.”

And they look at us traditionalists and they call us simple-minded and weak. But childlikeness is simply a state of femininity. It is joyful laughter, playfulness, tender-heartedness and vulnerability. But there is much strength in feminine weakness. Look deep into these eyes and see the depths of maturity and love within them. I have never been a doormat nor a pushover. Stronger than he might have ever imagined, I remember that day when I turned and fled, never to return, as my heart and mind simply couldn’t take it anymore. He could not protect me nor defend or love me. Yet untouched by him, I ran away.

“I remember that day when I turned and fled, never to return… For indeed I may be a fool, but never the kind he may think me to be.”

Regard the fullness of these hips and the suppleness of these breasts as I gently lay back. Only in deep trust and love can I truly open myself to him. In my sweetest imaginings I lose myself so deeply in the moment. To feel his strength as he lays over me and envelops me in the protection of his arms and to reach for him to draw him closer and take him in ever deeper as agonizing waves of pleasure wrack my body. To ever imagine it as casual is nothing short of horrifying.  

“Only if I am sure, only upon seeing that he is real, can I ever open up, willing and ready, to receive masculine hardness deep into the depths of feminine softness.”

Because when I feel, I feel so deeply. When I love, I love so truly. I don’t want your 50 Shades of Grey, I don’t want your kink, I don’t want your metrosexual masculinity. Inside and out I am female, I am feminine, I am woman. I know I told him so many lies so that he might never know just how long I truly burned for him. Every woman wants to believe, as he is lying over her, that he is real, that he is true. So kiss me so softly, so deeply. My heart is torn and pulled in every direction. There remains a bittersweet sickness in the pit of my stomach. Only if I am sure, only if I can see that he is real, can I ever open up, willing and ready, to receive masculine hardness deep into the depths of feminine softness. 

“I know I told him so many lies so that he might never know just how long I truly burned for him…My heart is torn and pulled in every direction.”

But can I run to him and will he be there? If I call to him will he answer? I pulled back, I dissapeared. I was gone so long. I spent so much time in pain. I was physically sick, mentally destroyed. But if he must wait for it then, if that day ever arrives, you know it will be so good. But can one wait forever? For so long I dreamt that he would come for me. A woman’s fantasies invaded my mind. But it will be real and true, or it will be nothing at all. A woman’s body is a gift to be given to a man out of love. The opening up an expression of trust; to allow a man, once he has proven himself, to invade her privacy and take all of her the way other men may not- because he is truly special, truly unique and irreplaceable. It will never be easy. It was never meant to be. Only when it’s real, only when he’s real. Only when it’s true, only when he’s true. 

“But it will be real and true, or it will be nothing at all…But can one really wait forever..?”

I never wanted to be anywhere but here. My heart grows sick when I think of the loneliness and emptiness of the world. Never leave my life, never let me go. I’ve been dead inside so long, I know. But after all these years I can finally feel. I am human, I am real. So hold me in love, hold me in truth. Love awaits, but only when it’s real, only when it’s true. You know I’ll never beg, I’ll never plead. If he doesn’t want me in his life, then he’ll forever live without me in it. But God knows I’ve never been happy that way. I’ve never been happy without him in my life. It’s no secret, anyone can see. Days are devoid of meaning when time fails to heal the pain. But I live with that pain, because I won’t settle. No, one can’t wait forever. But if love and life are a journey, is there ever indeed a finish line?

“So hold me in love, hold me in truth. Love awaits…But if life and love are a journey, is there ever indeed a finish line?”

Passion II: Fantasy

“I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me…

My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him…

I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer…” (Song of Solomon 5:2;4;6, KJV)

Last night I had the sweetest dream
I dreamt that he came to me
And he filled me so completely
He was exactly as I imagined he would be

I woke up still in a daze, eyes glazed
It all felt so real

For years he knows he’s captivated my thoughts
Passionate feelings of both love and hate

Delicate beauty in the flower of youth compared to the lines upon his face
Memories that time will never erase

Once upon a time it’s true that he took care of me
But he’s not the same person that he used to be

He can never be all I imagine him to be
No more, no less, he is but a fantasy

“He leaned forward slightly and a dark face took form from the shadows, a form as beautiful as Orignial Sin must have seemed to Eve, with all its lure and its pain. As eyes the smoky green of storm seas caught hers and held, a phrase from Milton’s Paradise Lost whispered through her mind:

‘His form had yet not lost
All his original brightness, nor appeared
Less than Archangel ruined…'”(Monson, Stormfire, 1984)

He does nothing but play games with my heart
He can never see fit to make me a part of his life
Compared to one who would make me his wife

I’m floating like I barely exist
I imagine his touch and I burn with desire
But I look into his eyes and I know he’s a liar

He’s become a temptation, but I will resist
Not so hard to do when half the time he pretends like I don’t exist

Got this petite 110-pound frame;
Half woman, half child, with this .68 WHR
Any man would want it
But I’ll be neither used nor abused

I’ll never be any man’s mistake
Nor will I give myself away to a man who in the long-term won’t stay

I’ll never come to him
But instead stay with what’s true and real

What happens when the fires burn out?
One offers me security and love
The other nothing but heartbreak and doubt

He says to me “come” but I never will
Because he’s just a fantasy
And that’s all he’ll ever be

Fine wine sweetens my tongue and blurs my mind
I only wish that time I could rewind

Inside there’s strong emotion tied to aching need
But I’ll never let him get away with breaking me in two
Then proceeding to tell me how he’s through

I will say no
To him I’ll never go

I know he thinks he’s going to win
But I’ll never open up and let him in

I’ll put a wall up that he’ll never get past
No matter how long these feelings might last

Though he may forever haunt my memory
He’s a fantasy- and that’s all he’ll ever be


I know that it’s true I should never show my hand…

But how could I have known how much attention I would garner when at first this project began?

So now dear reader without further ado…

Allow me to captivate your thoughts for a passionate moment or two… 

Oh can’t somebody tell me if I’m just going crazy? Why couldn’t mama have warned me about the games he might play? But despite this desire and that urge to play with fire I know better than to ever give it away.

Did he lure me into a trap or was it all in my head? I swear by the gods above I didn’t mean it. It all started out so innocent. Whether this is real or all in my head it’s so hard to tell, but if he did indeed play me he did it so well. 

In my ignorance I think I did wrong. There are just so many things I couldn’t understand or what could have been wrong about the words that I said. 

This is something I’ve never experienced before. Inside there is a feeling so strong- but it does not come from the heart. How could I have known there existed such yearning that would lead me to find myself lying here with a fever burning? 

How did this ever go so wrong? Inside there used to be innocence but I fear that now those days are long gone. I created a monster and I can’t seem to make it go away. There’s no going back now, what can I do? 

Better to be drug to the depths of Hell and forever there stay. I just can’t seem to make these thoughts and desires go away. Oh but this is a tale as old as time. It’s only human nature after all. Though inside my heart may be pure, no one ever warned me just how hard it would be to resist the allure. 

I pray now that Heaven hear my prayer, if indeed there be a god out there. For I know that despite my age, I have never before experienced such a feverish rage. 

So this is what they were all talking about? But oh no I cannot go down that route. Oh where can I find the strength to get through this, even when I know it will never lead to eternal bliss?

Somehow he’s in a place he should never be- in my thoughts and in my memory. 

Dear God what has he done to me? 

If only I could have seen it coming I would have took off the other way running. As every second turns into an hour, I can only hope that time does these thoughts devour. 

Mine Alone 

Body bejeweled…silky smooth skin glowing in the candlelight…long hair flowing below a tiny waist…lips the deepest shade of red…

My body sways with the music…I fall to the floor, legs folded underneath me,..I begin to undulate and crawl…

My body is a temple to be nurtured and nourished…my sexuality a potent force and I control it…

I feel it so deep within me…

My vagina is not a birth canal- it’s my body and it belongs to me…

Bodily autonomy and dignity are mine and I will fight to the death anyone who would ever try to take that right from me…

I will not be cursed or bear double burdens in this life because I happened to be born with a vagina…

But with great responsibility comes great power…

I say where and when and how…

Many men may desire it but only a select few will ever have it…if a man can’t treat me right and offer me what I need then he won’t have me…

I express my sexuality…time eventually ravages all in its wake and one day I will pass on- into what life I cannot know…

Is death not the universal fear that none can escape yet all are sentenced to? 

What a cruel paradox life is…in that in giving one life you also in the same instance hand down a death sentence… 

Freedom-what humans have fought since the beginning of time for…

Life is slavery, death, sickness, oppression and heartbreak with a few good times in between…

When oppression and slavery are eradicated in one form they always resurface in another…

Is this hedonism? Maybe…but I embrace it..