Meeting My Muse in Melbourne

MEETING MY MUSE IN MELBOURNE

This time
the two of us
come together
as if we had
never been
apart.
We know
each other
as only
old lovers
can.
And we realize
our time
together
is too precious
to waste.

I Love It When She Starts to Respond

I LOVE IT WHEN SHE STARTS TO RESPOND

Seven p.m.

and the sun

still streams

through my

window.

at least

it’s cooler now.

The writing

continues.

The day calls

for it,

and my muse

has actually

begun to respond.

It’s going to be

a good night.

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Now, I Follow Her lead

NOW, I FOLLOW HER LEAD

I’ve finally gotten old enough

to give in and get comfortable

with my own rhythm.

Actually, the truth is that

I’ve finally wised up enough

to listen to the voice of my lady.

When she wants to dance

I’m ready and waiting. When

she wants to play, I’m right here.

God, we’re having a grand time.

A Fugitive at Rest

A FUGITIVE AT REST

I’ve traveled far enough

to escape from myself,

even if only temporarily.

I know it’s not much,

but, at least for the moment

I can catch my breath,

swing my muse around

a time or two,

and thank my God

for the overwhelming joy

of pencil and paper.

For now, it’s enough.

She Keeps Me on the Edge

SHE KEEPS ME ON THE EDGE

We’ve been playing footsy

this entire trip,

and both of us love it.

We’ve been together

long enough to know

exactly how far we can go

before having to back off

to catch

a creative breath or two.

It’s sensual as hell,

a dance we have practiced

for years, and one

that keeps us both

begging for more.

Both of us know our roles.

That’s the fun of it.

She teases. I beg.

And both of us stay

hot, horny and

hard at it.

Whirl me around one more time

WHIRL ME AROUND ONE MORE TIME

Nine-thirty
and the words
are still coming.
The divine dance
hasn’t slowed,
and it’s obvious
she’s not going
to let go.
Neither am I.
So let the music
play on.
Drums and trumpets
do your thing.
We’re not going to stop
until my pen
runs dry.

Sweet Release

SWEET RELEASE

There’s no time for foreplay.
There’s no fooling around.
The need is too great
and she knows it.
This morning, she gives me
exactly what I need, and
exactly how I need it.
Wham, bam,
thank you, Ma’am.
Words don’t flow
but gush
in an unstoppable flood,
pushed by pressure
far beyond containing.
Her touch is magic.
It’s been too long,
far too long,
since I allowed myself
the pleasure
of letting her
have her way.

her touch

HER TOUCH

Tonight has started off
extremely well.
She slipped
into my arms
with a look
that couldn’t be
mistaken. At times
like this
it’s a toss-up
as to who’s
giving
and who’s receiving.
All I know is
that the longer
we’re together
the more
she turns me on.

“Don’t Even Try”

My muse and I have been together too long to play games. Each of us knows exactly what we want, and we know each other well enough to know whether we are going to get it or not.

DON”T EVEN TRY

My muse
seems as cool
this evening
as the service
here in
the hotel restaurant.
She’s not
playing coy.
She’s just
really not interested.
What can I say?
It’s her choice,
and I have
been rebuffed
more than once.
I will live.

“When the Words Flow”

WHEN THE WORDS FLOW

Sometimes,
like tonight,
there’s just
no hurry.
Both of us
are relaxed
and both of us
just want to
make it
last.
There’s no
pressure
on either
of us,
just the quiet
anticipation
of seeing
just how long
we can
keep it
going.

“One Hot Lady”

This poem first appeared in MOUTH MUSIC, a collection published in 1997. It is one of an extended series depicting my lifelong relationship with my muse.

ONE HOT LADY

While waiting
for a mocking muse
to loosen her lips
I continue stroking,
caressing every key
I can reach. Who
knows which one
just might unlock
the barely contained
passion, passion
powerful enough
to convulse us both
in an orgasmic frenzy
so frighteningly forceful
neither of us will be able
to walk for a week.
It’ll be worth the wait,
and both of us know it.
I can feel her
starting to squirm.