You, yes you
Ignite my firecracker
Let’s start our own fireworks.
Let’s make it heated and explosive
Well, what are you waiting for?
It’s the 4th of July.
Celebrate today with loved ones. So happy I’m off from work. Let’s make today fun.
With much love
Fountain Pen: Let my words glide down that rough texture of yours. Let them smoooooth you! Let them groove all over you!
Rough Paper: Oh, Parker I’m so thirsty for your wet pen. Come on glide yourself on me! Tantalize me with your words but don’t let any of them be uncouth. Empower me with your barrel and nib. Go ahead write on me!
Fountain Pen: Oh I’m dripping my ink so ready to imprint my point on you right now. I’m going to write and write on you like no one has written before. Maybe I might even etch on you! Get ready!
Rough Paper: I’ve been waiting my entire length for this moment! Come smoooooth me real good. Write on me! Etch on me! Go ahead press that point of yours real hard that you tear me in places. I’m an old paper and my surface is rough. It’s so rough that I’m stable and tough! Oh yes!
Fountain Pen: Oh, Paper, Pape, Pape!
Rough Paper: Yes Pen, Pen , oh PEN!
Don’t think of a pen as a mere instrument for it speaks. Let its words be heard as it writes on your paper! Creativity! You are the creator! Have a wonderful day.
Shout out to Bryan Lunsford my latest follower. You are strong thus your life will be long.
Twisted Thoughts you inspire me to be more spicy with my writing. Thank you.
Hugs from Brooklyn
Sometimes I wish I was invisible.
Cause people just don’t care. They just look. They just stare. No one utters a word! I feel absurd.
I know they judge me because I smell of urine, feces and infection. I’m a derelict all haggard and disheveled. I too hate my own relection.
It wasnt always this way. I had a family and a home. I lost it all for going out to roam. Liquor, drugs and seeking prostitutes were my vices. Now my friends are only the lices. How I wish I could go back in time! But I can’t! Maybe I just need to dissapear.
Why are there so many homeless people? Why is there always someone on the train or in the street asking for food or asking for money? Is it always their fault? They stink up the trains. They interrupt our reading. Should they just disappear? Could it ever happen to us? Is it mental illness? Was it their choices that closed doors? I decided to ask.
Stoner as he called himself was only 25. Very attractive if you bathed and clothed him. He told me he was a homosexual. He told his parents at age 16 and he was kicked out the house. They were very religious. He fell into depression and living on the streets wasn’t easy. He was taken in by an older man that prostituted him out in exchange for room and board. He had no choice.
He started begging for money and bought drugs from wherever he could get them. He was 19 and looked older. He needed to numb his feelings. He detested those aggressive men. Then one day he tried to escape and was beaten so badly landing him in the hospital.
One of the nurses told him that God loved him. He was pissed off. His parents told him God had no place for his kind. What God was she taking about?
The hospital gave him money when they discharged him and the kind nurse drove him to the bus depot. She gave him money from her own purse too. He came to NYC on a Greyhound bus. His home and his own town were full of bad memories.
We spoke for almost one hour and I actually had no money to give him so we prayed. We prayed for his parents to have softer hearts. He agreed to enter a drug rehab center to get clean. God loves us all. God is forgiving. I wanted to cry but I held back the tears.
Happy to say that the last time I spoke with him he was clean and living in a small apartment. He was still asking for money but now by playing a guitar and singing. He no longer smelled but still had scars on his face from when he was beaten up. He and his dad were now talking. His mom had passed. He told me he realized God had always been around him.
It’s true everyone has a back story. Perhaps we don’t have to give them money. But please let’s pray for them. Love and prayer doesn’t cost a dime. Prayer does work if we believe. Do you believe?
With love Guady G
When words fall upon deaf ears does it make them expunged?
When a mute utters but a sound did he not mean to say a word?
When you see me and you close your eyes did I truly disappear?
I know you can see me, hear me, and smell me.
I know you fear waking up all your five senses.
Be not afraid of that which you do not know!
Seize the moment! Heck seize the day!
You can touch me. It’s quite okay!
Should you savor me?
Yes you may!
Have a blessed weekend
Love Guady G
I’m enticed to enter but afraid.
Will I float?
Will I drown?
Will it take me back to shore?
To lands I’ll never get to explore?
In my bed
You the ocean
Come forth and moisten my feet!
Every dawn that enters I get so sad. Every night that leaves me I get so mad.
Everyday I crave for the night for I no longer fear your sight.
I miss the numbness on my thighs as you gently overtake me with your essence. Inch by inch you envelop me and let me know you are present.
You pleasure me! You levitate me!
I can sense you in the deepest corners of my being. So endearing!
My breath becomes more rapid as you whisper in my ear. There’s no fear. You’re here!
My soul soars with yours to other realms, to other dimensions. I now live for those sessions.
Everynight to you I will succumb. It’s a dream I never want to wake from.
You are the sleep I want to always start. It was you my love who had to depart.
This earth treated you so badly. The plane, the crash and you left me so sadly, so abruptly.
Only in the night can you return to pleasure me, and to love me.
You’re no longer in flesh yet you remain so faithful and for that I shall always be grateful.