Monthly Archives: November 2016

Tastes Like Heaven

Be Uncommon


We are lying there in post-coital fervor. She is teasing my neck with soft kisses. She knows it drives me crazy when she does that. And i am running my hands on her back…slowly, sensually. She is moaning softly. We do this over and over and it always ends the same way it began. She is a fucking good kisser. And the best fuck too.

She later gets up to light a ciggie. Naked. She has hips to make one weep. She has legs that go on and on you just want to run your tongue up to their junction. She has curves to make an atheist believe in a higher power. Damn she is perfect!

As usual I am dumbstruck by her bum. I love the feel of her butt against my back. I love the feel of it on my hands. I love the sway of it as…

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Posted by on November 6, 2016 in Uncategorized



Be Uncommon

I am learning about rejection. We haven’t been acquainted for a while but i can taste her in the bitter aftertaste she leaves in my tongue. I can smell her in the acrid air in the gutters. I am blinded by her in the glaring streetlights just when you wake up from a nap in your car.

I don’t really know her well, but i am slowly learning her contours. She is not well-molded. She is just lumped up together like an afterthought. She is ugly, i can give you that. She is not perfect. But when she rubs on you, she takes away a part of you with a cruel smile. She leaves her pungent perfume on you for evidence. She puts a scowl on your face and makes your spirits take a nose-dive.

She is the desperate cry of a baby when it’s sick and can’t express herself…

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Posted by on November 6, 2016 in Uncategorized


Good Old Days

Be Uncommon


The good ole days. I am not old enough to use the term per se..but nostalgia doesn’t really care for age, does it? And when i hear your voice, i can’t help but go back in time. Look at me trip over my past. Wipe the look of disgust off your monkey face numbskull, it happens to the best of us. Judge me when you are perfect. Well, i read the phrase somewhere and i’ve been aching to use it.

Then your face comes to mind. And the movies. And the coffee. Always black. Six sugars. And the novels. And poems. It started with the poems. It ended with them too. Then we didn’t talk. Just miscommunicated our intentions in well-crafted poems that really had no truth. Others were true. The ones that held no meaning drove us apart. That’s what happens when tornadoes and hurricanes try to have a…

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Posted by on November 6, 2016 in Uncategorized


Midnight Rants


The guys who live on the fourth floor are driving me nuts. It’s like a frat house. They came in a few minutes ago and are yet to settle down. They have been yelling and making all sorts of sounds since then. Just shut the fuck up already!!!

The fact that tomorrow is a Monday doesn’t seem to bother these drunk and disorderly ingrates since they have no work to wake up to, or whatever the fuck their story is. Then there is this lady who has been trying on pairs of heels for the past hour. Clink! Clonk! Clink! Clonk! Pick a pair and settle down missy. I am trying to get some sleep, thank you very much!! I have turned and tossed every single direction till I couldn’t take it anymore.

I wonder what their reaction would be if i went and banged on their door real loud. The fact that there are kids sleeping seems to be the least of their problems. Or adults that have to wake up to work and its dreariness too. It is a 1 p.m in case you are wondering why I am ranting so much and getting my knickers in a twist.

So i have decided to whip out my laptop and settle down on ranting here. As if that will make sleep come any faster. But the sound of the keyboard dulls the noise from above. I haven’t written in quite some time. I have almost forgotten how good it feels to just let go and put it down on paper. My notebook has gone idle and the pages are beginning to turn color. Technology has taken over my life and turned my brains almost to mush.

I think that there’s a certain joy to writing. Seeing words come alive and crawl over looking for meaning. Sometimes it is venom, sometimes it is poetry. Sometimes it is love and sometimes the pen spews hate on paper. Sometimes you scribble so fast on paper you see the ideas come aflame. Sometimes words won’t come and you feel a sense of  literal impotence.

Whenever you can write though, the soul always comes alive and every other thing can go to hell. I don’t know about you, but writing seriously gets me on edge and calms my nerves. I think I’ll get some sleep before my alarm clock goes and I have to spend the morning yawning. That is not a pretty picture. And I for one I’m all about pretty pictures.

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Posted by on November 6, 2016 in Uncategorized, Writing