My Momma Didn't Raise Me Right But

My momma didn’t raise me right,

But Florida Evans did.

 

Perhaps Others’ roots are different,

where their ancesters came from;

roots for me are my past and my “training” –

others’ demand for my service, my body.

My momma didn’t raise me right,

            But Florida Evans did. 

Trust me – if I am in a room with a man

I can smell it, feel it,

attuned to it since I was two.

I smell the tobacco on your skin,

the testosterone underlayer –

I will respond to it both consciously and unconsciously.

My momma didn’t raise me right,

            But Florida Evans did. 

But part of will say “Have some pride.

Hide your passion, your willingness –

You are only what you decide to be!”

It’s not skin but pheramones –

what your skin encompasses

does not determine you.

My momma didn’t raise me right,

            But Florida Evans did. 

I know the difference

            between a darkening room and television;

I know desire does not begin

            with an upswelling of music –

more … people accepting what people are,

nature pulling against nature – completed in 30 minutes

letting situations become … Dy-no-mite.

My momma didn’t raise me right,

            But Florida Evans did.

And sometimes it is winning just to persevere –

resisting going to the common. Wait for the laugh.

Sometimes it is just waking up.

Sometimes it is just giving in.

My momma didn’t raise me right,

            But Florida Evans did. 

Ariel

But At Night

But at Night

 

Yes, I’m a liberated woman,

Working side-by-side men;

Pulling my own weight.

I’m one of the guys.

During the day – listen to my opinions.

You damn well better be politically correct,

            Treat me as your equal.

During the day you damn well better treat

            Me as your equal. 

But at night –

            I want to let loose.

Bit at night – take me and give me your demands,

            Take me and give me your aggression.

But at night – rage your passions;

            Twist my hair and pull back my head.

Take me and pull off my clothes;

            Let me feel your hard hands claim me.

But at night – let me feel your mouth on my thigh;

            Let me fall on my knees, you standing in total trust.

At night, I am not your helpmate;

            I am your opposite, your challenge –  

And in the morning … you damn well better

            Treat me as your equal.

 

Ariel

 

Taken In

Taken In

 

I was told

Following Tiger

Takes you into the jungle. 

Yes, that is where you take me,

Somewhere wild and humid,

Uncontrollable,

Deep among vines

And pungent orchids,

And I am not safe. 

Though I do not particularly wish to be there,

There is something intoxicating,

Addictive in the experience. 

I am drawn back

Time and time again for yet another taste.

 

            Ariel

Sensate

 

Red head caressed

My petal’s sensual flame.

Thy passion rose in it,

Drunk on

A river of secret honey.

 

Ariel

The emphasis is on the "pull"  <cynful grin> Hint; This is NOT making a bed; helps the reading if you have an extra pair of hands to help the "pulling".

Made My Bed

 

I make my bed every morning

            After I discipline my body with 2 miles of exercise

            And after my husband rises.

A  habit cultivated, I cannot leave

            For the day until my bed is made. 

Exhausted, I return to my bed

            & pull off the 12 year old blankets

Then straighten the wrinkles out of the sheets

            & pull their patterns flat.

Pick up the musty lavender velour, spread

            & pull its corners ‘til arranged

Letting its heavy sides cover the full bed

            & pull its sides until

                        Almost reaching the ground

                        Almost completely covering my bed frame.

And then the bedspread falls, arranging corners

            & pull down the sides until

Lilacs fall off my be, their flat patterns float

            & pull down & over.

I then gather the dark curtains that make my headboard

            & pull them back, morning light growing in them,

& then the pillows. I gather them

            & pull & plump & fluff then stand them

Arranging them until my bed looks

like a magazine cover

that would catch someone’s eye

at a newsstand until they reach over

            & pull it off the shelf to examine;

A flat picture that hints of rest & comfort

            & pulls you out of reality.

 

A habit cultivated, I cannot leave

            For the day until my bed is made. 

Ariel

Driving To Dallas

 

There is no pretending I don’t need you. 

My passion driving

            Like an Audi at eighty-five miles. 

I won’t pretend I’m not being consumed by need. 

I again turn to him

            And he cared for me,

As I cared for his needs

            When he was broken,

And he took me in

            Knowing of my need.

There is a long history there;

            We are not lovers but friends who love. 

I won’t need to pretend he is you. 

No tears this time will be shed -

            We retreat to his bed.

Not lovers,

            But friends who love;

He will shut the world out

            As we fall into his bed,

So familiar as when it lay

            Beneath his parents’ bedroom,

And he raised his passion

            To meet my desperate need –

I had immediate need of you

            And he filled it. 

There is no pretending. 

And as hunger and hope emptied,

            He filled that too.

For this time, my dammed need

            Is allowed to set our rhythm

And he allows me, passion

            Releasing and releasing again. 

Exhausted, we laid entwined

            In his arms and long legs.

There is no pretending they are yours.

            Not lovers, but friends who love.

But as he slept, still driven by you,

            I rose & purged myself of him;

Purged his sweat from my body,

            My body of his food,

My mouth of his taste,

            My core of his seed.

Purged it of everything that was not you

            And then, stripped again to my essence

I again returned to his bed;

            His arms habitually enfold me.

Not lovers, but friends who love. 

There is no pretending they are yours. 

He did not take offense,

            Even knowing as he did

The precautions I took – filling my womb

            Inhospitable to his seed.

 

We are not lovers. 

In the morning

            He will rise above me again

Aware that, heartbroken, passion unmatched

            Will drive me again without reason.

On instinct, on impulse;

            It will not be safe.

The day must be met

            But not alone – My layers fall,

Peeled away and our rhythm again

            Is paced by my incessant need.

He will console my desire again

            And then feed me as you will not,

Take me back into his life for that brief time

            Then let me drive away. 

We are not lovers now

            But friends who love. 

There is no pretending he is you. 

We are not lovers. Now.

Ariel

TDB  HAS

Dismissing the Mid-Summer Dream

Dismissing the Mid-Summer Dream

 

You encapsulated me in your fantasies

            And I … I would not dispel them. 

You allowed your heart to be seduced

            By my softness, my yielding,

            My willingness to enjoy the moment. 

You delighting in my somnambulant eyes,

            The moistness of my lips,

            The way my nipple puckered against your tongue. 

You’ve taken our movements;

            Added import & drama to our words

            And elevated them to a set stage.

You … drunk on being in love …

            Did not notice that

            I was just along for the ride. 

You were the bird I held lightly so,

            And wanted to be held by;

            A pet, nothing more. 

But a quick-silvered, winged creature –

            I would not be held onto.

I was eluding fantasies of my own making.

 

                        Ariel

Every Thousand Caresses

Every Thousand Caresses

 

Every thousand caresses

            & familiar rhythms

            Wakens me.

I feel where your secret desire

            Holds your sacred scent. 

I remember you, wild creature;

            I, your perfumed goddess.

 

            Ariel

My Hunger

damn!

my hunger

            can haunt you. 

perhaps you will ask

            me to linger.

 

Ariel

 

Cancelled Season

 

I know I should be ashamed of myself;

                           I picked “Joey” up at a Laundromat.

Oh, I know I should remember his name …

                           Whatever it is …

But he stood there looking so young and Italian,

                           An actor besides …

The resemblance was uncanny

                           To the character!

And I thought I could use

                           A “Friend” like him. 

I admit it was shallow of me,

                           Going for a face with no apparent mind.

And, really, I didn’t feel the need

                           For intriguing conversation.

I was thinking of a season

                           Not a long-term contract.

A handsome face to look at in the evening;

                           A young stud “in the sack”. 

A shame, since he thought so slow,

                           That I dismissed his thinking entirely;

Did not see his enthusiasm for me

                           Spin off to something more

Until too late, until it was clear he thought

                           Us more than friends, thought I was his. 

I’m sorry, “Joey”. It’s a shame, really,

                           But I must cancel our season.

I’m looking for entertainment

                           Not a commitment. 

Shallow; I should remember that a man

                           Is so much more than just a pretty face.

 

Ariel

Running

Running

 

Where am I driving to: Tired and wary

Looking for Escape?

The empty roads offer escape

But no Company.

The men at bars offer company

But no Comfort.

My friends offer both but

Deliver no Release. 

I search some more and find myself

At your door;

Embarrassed a bit at showing

With you I find all four.

 

                                                Ariel

Maroon Cotton

Maroon Cotton

 

Maroon cotton

Over Worn jeans;

His fingers find

My covered folds.

Exploring I take

            His mouth and taste,

My fingers tug

            At his cotton. 

Impulse flares;

            It is mid-day,

There are no familial

            Duties to fulfill,

There is no reason

For false resistance.

We fall into bed

            Fall into each other;

Maroon cotton and jeans

            Tumble to the floor.

 

Ariel

ALB
 

Many Men?

Many Men?

 

Have I had many men in my bed?

            No, not in my bed;

            Only my husband. 

But I have had many men

            In their beds,

In their many beds. 

When the craving grows

            And I know you do not want me

            In your bed, at your door … 

I go to their doors instead,

            To their beds –

            Their many beds.

 

Ariel

Tongue-In-Cheek

Tongue-In-Cheek 

Determined, my flesh seeks out your flesh,

            Skin on skin.

My hard member seeks out

            Your secret spots.

“There, touch me there” you plea

            And I comply, working your body.

“Deeper” you plea, and then descend

            Into wordless moans and pleadings.

“Lower” you plead and I go down on you,

            Working your flesh as you tremble and moan, 

Until I can go no more.

            “I’m sorry, Honey” I apologize;

I can never last long enough

            To bring you satisfaction. 

Bemused, I roll over & wonder

            When our late night twinings

Produced such sexy moans

            And pleadings from you, my husband,

As did my knees and elbows

            Giving you that deep muscle massage.

  

                        Ariel

ALB - a little S&M tease.  <cynful grin>

I Wait For Saturday

I Wait For Saturday

 

I wait for Saturdays

When I can wake by your side

And not race away at morning light.

Time may not slow but we can;

Taking time to savor the other,

Making each other

The reason to exist.

Watch the sunlight pour over our bodies

Feel our uncovered skin,

Murmur to each other love and thoughts;

Fantasize when

Each day can be Saturday morning. 

Hold each other, Love each other

            Separate and joining;

Giving to each other until we merge

            In so many countless ways,

Dependant only upon our whim.

And these intimate moments can hold so much

            Passion & pleasure, Stillness & ecstasy

Satisfying each other, ignoring the world,

            For just Saturday morning.

Ariel

Reprobate

Reprobate

Scoundrel! Reprobate!

You tease; you bait;

using the words meant to prick

            meant to bite.

An innocuous smile

belying your true intention.

I know your desired response

            an elbow sharp to the bone,,

a knee to the low back,

a knead down the spine.

This is just your

            deviant prelude to

a sadistic back massage

            and you cast me

as your dominatrix.

Ariel

ALB

Lightly Falls

Lightly falls the yellow blossom

 

Upon the meandering stream,

 

Letting Fate take charge of its destination.

 

 

Ariel

 

Kisses south of the Dixie Line! Fun!

Balanced Silently

Balanced silently

 

On edge of twilight rose,

 

The butterfly sleeps.

 

Ariel

 

Kama Sutra loving!

The Male Ladybug

The Male Ladybug

 

The male ladybug

Rocks in the wind as it rests,

Hanging by grass stalk.

Ariel

 

ELW - Just discovered the Kama Sutra

Ear Nibbling

Ear Nibbling

 

Hot mouth closes on lobe

Burning skin with touch.

Fire races down spine;

Credecioning throughout body.

 

Ariel

 

ELW