Friday, September 19, 2014
Favorite
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Magic
Cause you were sent here so perfectly true
Give yourself to the feelings that you know
Friday, September 5, 2014
Trees and Bare Mountains
(6-1-2011)
It hurts you everyday. I lay naked so
Monday, September 1, 2014
Bull ride!
Damn!
(4-13-2011)
“Damn!”
Sometimes you find yourself in a situation that warrants a certain action. The delicate handling of an otherwise tricky circumstance. And on this night in the back of an old Coupe de Ville Yancey Taylor found himself in one of those situations that certainly warranted handling.
Yancey Taylor wasn’t anyone that anybody would notice. Hell even his name wouldn’t catch your attention. Back then he was a shaggy haired kid that hadn’t grown into himself. Now Boots McGhee might roll off your tongue just a little bit more appropriately. And as such it did. Yancey always was a ladies man but mostly without the ladies before Boots the rocker picked up. But that’s getting a little ahead of things.
Now in any story they’ll tell you what happens wasn’t much fun. In the case of Boots McGhee every story was more than ample fun and that was hardly overstating the obvious.
Yancey Aloysius Taylor was the son of a carpenter. He wasn’t much for following in his old man’s footsteps. Picking up a hammer couldn’t quite compare to picking up a guitar. As matter of fact as young as he could remember he always wanted to be a musician. So it came as no wonder that he did. Yancey Taylor played with a band for five odd years before it went platinum, gold and silver. And that’s when good ol’ Boots McGhee came round to show ‘em a thing or too.
Boots had a following with the ladies from the beginning. Right down to the tips of his boots he had something going for him. His namesake was the thing that landed him on the scene. That was the thing with good ol Boots. He had a reputation that preceded him with all the ladies. And sure enough the word got around. Every gal wanted a part of the man. Didn’t matter if he had an old lady or not, they all wanted him just the same. On more than one occasion he kept a good time gal exclusive for a string of shows. Didn’t happen too often but it happened.
Young, old, middle aged made no difference for the most part. Except. Well we all have our preference for things. As most men do, Boots certainly had a preference when it came to women. A fine connoisseur, his typically included a particularity for jail bait.
Middle-aged washed up rocker or not, some things never change…
Underage Sally wasn’t the first, the last and most certainly wouldn’t be the only on his list. Seventeen teen queen wanted to meet her favorite guitar man after the show. Well Boots obliged that young thing the honor when he took her back to his Coupe De Ville after the show. Straight to the backseat with a bottle of his favorite bourbon and his favorite pair of boots.
This particular night was about the same as all the other times he’d taken a young thing back to the car with him. Except on this occasion Bo0ts got a little more than he’d expected. Sally Seventeen sure knew her way around a backseat as much as how to work the man sitting in it. Boots didn’t mind so much as long as he got to keep his mouth on the bottle and enjoy the ride. According to good old Boots there wasn’t anything in this world quite like looking at a naked woman while she’s playing cowgirl with him.
She told him to hold her close.
And he held her close.
From behind she looked a bit like an angel and he told her as much while stroking her back. She smiled and he knew but couldn’t see it. Soft curls of brown bounced quickly in front of his face. With every movement she tilted her hips further backward. The farther back she pressed against him, the faster he felt himself climb. Eager to prolong things a bit more…
Spread a little wider is what he told her.
And that’s what she did.
Somewhere between the front and the middle Boots brought in a pinch hitter size 12 ½ double wide. And that’s exactly what the doctor ordered. A push of his heel and a press his bare hand his good ol boot came directly into play. Without much thought Sally wasn’t thinking when she felt the other player enter the game and fell right into the rhythm of things.
You might begin to wonder if a man like good ol Boots served any jail time over a little bit of bait. Well that’s where this story gets interesting if you know what I mean.
Handling business on this occasion was exactly what Boots and his underage companion were doing when it happened. It might have been the way that underage filly was giving the old boy a run for his money or it might have been that the boot fit in just the wrong way. Sure enough though somewhere between climax and carefree that little gal caught herself on the tip of his boot.
But bleeding, that’s not what happened to catch their attention. Now what stopped them from climbing any higher was something altogether different. It wasn’t even a wonder that anyone had been hurt when the siren’s sounded across from the vehicle.
“Damn” is what he thought as much as what he said when the cops pulled up to the ride. There wasn’t much to it when the ride came to an end. Sally even leaned back and kissed him when he let her down real gentle. Even with the sight of their bloody mess she kissed even harder.
These things happen is what she said with a laugh.
So “these things happen” is what he told them. But that was before they saw there was blood. Enough blood to make a situation necessary to handle.
After there was blood they said he’d be lucky to stay out of jail. And lucky he was when Sally Seventeen said she’d been expecting a visit from her Aunt. The police didn't like it much but they had to agree it was a ace trick he had up his sleeve. And in the end, the only thing that stuck Boots in jail that night was two counts of breaking his probation for the alcohol.
See Yancey Taylor wasn’t a legendary man, but good ol Boots McGhee he was such a man. And now some might say what happened was legendary and some say that’s how legends are made. But one thing’s for certain, on that night that’s what good old Boots did. He made himself a legend with little Sally Seventeen.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Quest
The quest for an amazing life begins with you... You shouldn't have to blur yourself out for the world or blur the lines to live openly in life or quest for glass to see things as they are. Love yourself more. Be honest with yourself and you'll find the courage to pursue the love you deserve. Kissing the wrong person doesn't have to happen forever unless you let it. The wrong people help you figure out what kind person you want to be with. Enjoy the moments. Figuring out what you want is a process and you can't force it. Don't be afraid of the unknown or upset at yourself for wanting more... When you're ready it won't be hard work to pursue and it won't come to you easily or organically. Connection isn't forced but as much as we'd like to believe... Truth is, the things worth having require effort but the right things will never feel like you're putting in an effort because it is what you want.
Here's a revision about nudity... while you are questing for truth or healing just enjoy it all. Realize nudity is quite boring and... hardly shocking. Naked people tend not to be the most revealed or open people.
Enjoy!
Kisses, m.
Naked
(4-10-2010)
Naked. The day we enter this life in birth our skin is open to view. Every part of you is ready to be displayed. A smooth yet firm surface. Barrier of protection from the elements. Imperfections can be seen even at the start. There is no where to hide. No sense in humility. Yet we choose to conceal how nature intended us to be.
Bare. Beauty is a blessing. Bare skin beneath sheets of glass. The frail condition of the body out on view. Her hands lay far above the head at the ends of extended arms reaching for a savior that wasn’t there. Legs spread from the gentle touch of a lover. Permanent scars show the signs of a haunted past. Face of an angel with strength of will.
Revealed. Beneath a thin layer of vulnerability the delicate nature of humanity is revealed. Covering the flesh will not deny the true helplessness of the form. There is no hiding. Everything is out on the table. Underneath the thin garments there is the soft armor that we all possess. Flesh is aging out in the open for everyone to see. A timely end that begins with our very first breath of air.
Exposed. Uncomfortable to watch a nude lay in a room where everyone is clothed. Especially when there isn’t skin visible on anybody else. Elegant angel. Small streams of sweat bead down the left side of her face onto the clear glass surface of the table. Across from the frozen moment lays a small stack of out-dated burlesque magazines. The variety you’d find in a 1950’s antique shop. Betty Page winking with hints of her naughty bits exposed.
Raw. Thousands of tiny receptors hidden beneath the surface of the skin to elicit an emotional response to every touch. Enhanced by the senses of smell and taste. Riches found in the textures of human flesh. Lines form to create a smile. Contact brings a feeling of nostalgia. Familiar relived through a sensory experience.
Stripped. Her body was undressed before the moment. Strategically moved and guided upon the clear surface so that we could see a stripped down version of flesh. A masterpiece for the audience. Tease for the camera. Up close a hint of seduction. Flash of the bulb carries the weight of the darkened pieces away. Gorgeous flesh captured. Commemorative photos will look more like the images taken from the burlesque rags beneath the table. According to the artistic genius the Angel was intended to lie in the same pose of pretty gal on page 25 of the magazine open beneath the glass table. Angel in homage of homage. Fancy artsy brilliance.
Unprotected. Helpless to the fine edge of a shard of glass. Powerless to prevent the incision of a rusted nail. Susceptible to the burning rays of the sun. Defenseless to the whims of the masochistic human. Branding a logo onto purity. Putting ink into anywhere that will allow. Placing holes in any part or opening that will allow. Piercing the fragile pieces of the body. Needles sliding in and out of the supple dermis.
Shown. The girls were used to the exposure when they frequented the events making up the art scene. Once I dated a pretty gal that frequented the skin modeling circuit. Told me the ins and outs of the situation. A girl might have to do some regrettable things to get a little face time on the cover of a mag. Seems that there wasn’t much that these women wouldn’t do to get ahead. From the looks of things, that’s my guess of how the circumstances at hand evolved as the artist leans in to kiss his muse between camera flashes.
Uncovered. Removing the layers of clothing. One by one peeling away the unnecessary fabrics that cover the true nature of our humanity. Pulling up the layers of skin to discover the muscles and tissue of the anatomy. Bones hold up the framework beneath layers meant to conceal.
Open. Laid out to view. The last time she’ll ever be seen on the cover of a magazine in this version of her flesh and it happens to be best of times for all watching. Vultures are outside the door waiting to catch a glimpse of the scene for a headline. Stunning beauty greets art world in a display of the flesh exposed to the world and the best line they’ll have is BEAUTY QUEEN STUNS IN BODY ART SCENE. Nudity becomes a publicized headline followed by an indiscreet photo. Out in the open. On display for anyone to see and be seduced by.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Bare
Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.
~ Buddha