It died a slow death,
That sweet, magical creature…

It took me ages to realize it was dead –
The process of realization,
Prolonged by illusions of life,
Emanating from the non-dead body
Of its former home…

The well of inspiration,
Insight,
And compassion,
Which perhaps was truly boundless once,
Has dried up,
Or frozen to death…

The period of mourning,
Has come and gone,
And has been survived…

Memories of it still linger,
Fading,
And embellishing themselves,
Simultaneously,
As memories do…

Bringing some comfort,
And longing,
As memories do…

The cause of death,
Or causes, I should say,
Were vague,
And inevitable,
As causes tend to be…

It was magical,
And useful,
As friendships tend to be…

R.I.P.

As I place this wreathe to thee…

Live your color of the rainbow,
Even when Van-Gogh yellow.

_{*Works best where ‘Gogh’ is pronounced ‘Go’.}

We Jews are guests everywhere,
Paying for hospitality with our genius.
Like court jesters.
Alternately adored and persecuted,
Depending on how deeply we choose to bite with our wit.

_{*Written by another Jewish friend of mine.}

Fear not,
My dear Jewish friend!

From Jesus to Marx,
And Freud to Einstein and Feynman and Perelman,
It is we who live in your world!

So it is we,
Who ask you,
To please be hospitable to us –
We who wish you nothing but well!

_{*Written by a Japanese-Catholic friend of mine.}

To be or not be?
That is the first question.

How to keep it interesting?
That is the second question.

I have my cock up society’s ass.

And it feels sweet!

Not the figurative ass,
But the actual,
Physical,
Cheeks and hole…

What a sensation!

The sight of it spread eagle over my cock!

For now I’ve only got my tip in there,
But it’s slowly bleeding,
Into a nicely lubricated hole…

How many asses has Clooney been in?
Male and female…
A Hundred?
A Thousand?
A Million?

How can that compare,
To the billions of asses,
Collectively throbbing,
And quivering,
On my Uber-cock?

Squeeze ‘em,
Pinch ‘em,
Scratch ‘em,
Lick ‘em,
Spank ‘em,
Bite ‘em,
Fuck ‘em….

Oh, what a feeling!

You know that sound she makes,
When you’re trying to squeeze your cock into her ass,
And it accidentally slips into her cunt?

That highly specific moan of ecstasy,
Surprise,
Peppered with a dash of disillusionment?

It kinda reminds me of Charlie Parker.

Don’t know why…

‘Man, we’re fuuuuucked!’

‘They are so fuuuuucked!’

‘I’ll fuck you over, man! Right in the ass, buddy!’

All meant to imply negative experiences!

Threats!

Really???

The cat’s been out of the bag for centuries now:

Woman like getting fucked!
Need to get fucked!
As much as we love fucking them!

And gay men love getting fucked in the ass too!
At least the bottoms do…

And I also love getting fucked in the ass,
By females…

Their tongues,
Fingers,
And even strap-ons,
Feel amazing in there!

‘The prostate’s more sensitive than the G-Spot!’
They say…

And every single chick I’ve ever been with,
Absolutely wanted my cock in their ass!
And since it barely fits into most cunts,
I’ve single-handedly subsidized entire butter industries,
American and European,
With my various attempts,
Often unsuccessful…

Getting fucked in the ass,
Is an amazing experience,
When done right…

Being filled to the hilt…

Stretched to the max…

Taken to the core…

The real cherry on the fucking sundae…

Better threats are needed, my friends!

Better expressions of pain are urgently called for!

Oh!
Why can’t I just write poetry,
About lovers’ perfumes?
Or angels’ graces?
Or irony’s lure?
Or absurdity’s eternity?
Or any other ‘poetic’ poetry?

I enjoy reading it from time to time,
And could probably emulate the prototypes,
If I tried…

Yet when I close my eyes to write,
I see unspoken realities waiting to be sung…

Will I change with time?
And start painting dreams?
Or playing with sounds?
Or writing tears of joy & sorrow?

 

Who’s to say if the sun will rise tomorrow?

We can only wait and see,
What will yet become of me…