Random Thoughts

Typing the thoughts as they come…

I am feeling some kind of way. Like a ball of passion, lust, and boredom, coupled with morals and the need for a good healthy debate which all lead to me being a big mass of frustration.

I try to keep most of my thoughts to myself, because if some of the people I know knew what really goes on in my mind, I would be all kinds of names. I wear my sentiments on my face, though.

I love words. I write because I am not all that great at relaying what I feel verbally. I feel things vividly and intensely, therefore I write. I am a woman of few words unless engaged in playful banter or debates. I am usually never what people expect me to be. I love hard. Yes, I do. I love deeply.

My vice is lust. We all have a drug of choice or thorn in the side. I think Lust lusts after me and pursues me with reckless abandon. I try my hardest to be good, to keep my sensual self to myself, and it never fails, someone comes along and ignorantly begins to play around with the fire that is my mind. I should come with a warning sign: Owner of the body housing this mind is not held accountable for your pending addiction. I know that I am highly addictive. By no means am I being arrogant or haughty. I don’t mean to be addictive.

This causes me to wonder what kind of women my sons will run across in their lives. I want them to have women like me, but I also know what women like me are capable of if not handled properly.

I think women should be more confident. It’s uber sexy. And stop making it so easy for men. Yes, we know that it doesn’t take candy, flowers, and a bunch of other material possessions to get into our panties because 9 times out of 10 we already have it in our minds whether or not he will be feasting at our tables anyway, but whatever happened to a nice hearty helping of mental jousting and stimulation? That’s far more erotic to me than saying or doing anything sexual.

When I was married I thought that single women were the devil. (Not really). Now that I am single I know how to be a better married woman. Weird how life throws you curve balls, making you walk in the very same shoes you once despised.

My Muse

She left me. I miss her.

I can still taste the complexness of Merlot on her lips from the last time she placed her ruby red kisses on mine. At night after showering she would lay next to me, play in my hair, and fondle my breasts. Our playful giggles manifested into the most erotic, heated, and creative love making sessions known to man.

Her passion was as powerful and magnetic as watching a ribbon lightening display across the sky. She made love to every part of me, flowing in out and throughout the entire entity of me. Her raw emotions penetrated the core of me, producing mind and body quaking orgasms that left me faded and high for days. I am addicted to her. I need her. I crave her.

Wait...is that her I see in the distance sexily strutting up to me? Hinting eyes, full breasts, round hips, thick thighs

My muse has returned to me...but for how long?

This Love Right Here

I find myself no longer worrying if my ass is too big, hips too wide, belly too pudgy, breasts too buxom

I don’t wonder if I’ll have to relive the hurt, hide my true goofy, witty, nerdy self, or if I’m smart enough, good enough, or proper enough

Rather I find myself laughing for no reason at all, smiling like some deranged woman out of touch with reality, and going to bed with this childlike innocent grin in my heart and my soul frolicking in the emerald green grasses of rebirth

I hold my head high, care not about the world’s opinions of my unconventional self, smile and shake my head at those that come against me followed by a deep and hearty “hmpff” as I strut off and roll these wide hips, phat ass, and thick thighs

Honey I haven’t a care in the world because I have a God sent man that loves me beyond my faults and through my fears

He inspires me to be the best me that I can be all the while loving everything about me from my naturally beautiful wavy locks, sapphire heart, all the way down to the high arches of my feet

Yes, I am loved indeed. I guess I have never really loved or been loved before because it sure as hell didn’t feel like this

Because this love right here...yeah, this love is fiyah

An Ode to You...Our Brothers

Thank you

For understanding that we are not bitches because we are assertive
And that we are not weak because we crave your sweet kisses

For working to provide for us
And for appreciating the safe havens we provide for you in return

For taking the time out to discipline the children we created
And showing them the irreplaceable love of a father, even if they don’t share your DNA

For your love that comforts and heals us
Of the hurt caused by the ones that made us cry

For realizing that our hair is our glory
And for getting overexcited if you let you pull it while…

For appreciating the phatness of our asses and width of our hips
It brings out our fierceness when we catch you peeping

For banging our backs out
Like only you can

For making tender passionate love to us
Like only you can

For creating a want in us
That only you can fill

For satisfying a need in us
That only you can feel

You are many things to us, but above all, you are love. Love…suffers long,
is kind, does not envy, does not parade itself, is not puffed up, does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil, does not rejoice in iniquity, rejoices in the truth, bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, and with us by your side you’ll never fail.

Storm Dreams

Lines in black - Sojourner G
Lines in pink - Queen of my Castle

Sometimes memories of you
Overtake me as a tidal wave assaults a lonely island’s palm
That wraps its roots around subterranean rock deep
And hangs on for dear life
Until the storm passes

Sometimes daydreams of you
Drift over me as a delicate mist seducing a flower
That freely opens its petals
Allowing small tear-shaped droplets to form
And glide down its stem

The hurricane force wind gusts
Carry the screams of your passion
Drenching my trunk
With the salty sweet spray of moisture
Dredged deep from your limitless reservoir

The soft spring breeze
Delivers the moans of your pleasure
Filling my stigma
With the pollen of your anther
Sweetly released from your endless reservoir

And it’s all I can do
To breathe through my screams
And panicked state of mind
Hoping to survive your onslaught
Or die happy

And all I can do
Is pant through my moans
And blossomed state of mind
Hoping this love rain will last forever
Or leave a gentle kiss upon my petal

*We never finished this piece*

Black Widow

The vacuum of her beauty
Sucked out my very breath
I found myself immobilized
Nearly choking on my own heart

I inhale your spirit
And exhale insatiable yearning
Bewitched by the flawlessness of my strut
Malevolence slyly clutches your heart

My knees began to buckle
Driving me to the floor
Manhood has deserted me
Contemplating crawling to her feet

Behind these lusty eyes lies a spirit of perversion
Driving you to your knees
And into my ample rich bosom
The heart of the abyss

Which bank accounts can I empty
Which keys can I put in her hands
How much soul do I have left inside of me
Can I be "Mr. Whoeversheis"

With bankrupt emotions
Lost keys to dreams
And no soul left
You've unwittingly become "Mr. WhoeverIam"

I can hardly wrap my mind around
The perfection she defines
Conforming to every fantasy
Creating more yet unimagined

These full pouty lips
Spew true lies
A master of disguise
I'll be who you want me to be

My heart swells with joy
As she passionately receives me
Signing over the deed to my existence
For one moment to claim her as mine

Marveled are you by my curves
As I welcome you inside
While you bask in my warmth
I knit your soul to mine

Consumed I am by her power
Lost in my own reverie
I realize too late
That Venus is a fly trap

I have no mercy as you grasp at love
Trapped in my web of deceit
I place a venomous kiss of trickery upon your lips
And trot off to the next lame

Lines in black-Sojourner G
Lines in green-Queen of My Castle

Begging, begging me to accept you into me

Deny…I continue to deny you

Killing you…killing you softly with my sweet, sexy, soothing words

Yearning…you yearn for my lips hips and thighs (I yearn for your heart)

Lust…longs to drip from your lips to my thighs, willing to sacrifice all that you are and have for one dose of me

How…how can I deny you my body yet walk away with pieces of your soul?

Because I am saving yet enslaving you

Be careful…be careful what you ask for, for one dose of me could prove to be addicting, for I am all encompassing, all consuming

I am…a woman and servant of Sensuality



How nicely the bitch Sensuality knows how to beg for a piece of the spirit, when a piece of flesh is denied her. –Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche