Category Archives: Waves

Far From The Madding Crowd

Alone.

Acutely aware of everything
Retreating inside
Feels reassuring
Heightens every sense
Even as inactivity
Stomps around your room.

A not so gentle reminder
That you are summoned
To be judged accordingly
Even though
You just want to
Breathe.

A single breath
Would release these bindings
Let you open that window
To find
Who owns that desperate cry
That will not leave you

Alone.


Under My Covers

Each candle
Spills shadows o’er us
While their aroma
Intoxicates
Freeing our minds
From all
Except us.

Gently your fingers
Trace across
My entire body and soul
Breathing ragged
My moans
Urge you.

Gently
Holding me
Our eyes lock
Desires entwine
As heartbeats
Together in unison
As we kiss.

Your tongue
Hastens my desire
Exploring
Caressing
Tasting me
As you fingers
Coax.

Succumbing
Free falling
Over the edge.

Embracing
Pulsating
Reaching
As I pull you
Deep inside
As rhythmic whispers
Work in concert
With our bodies
Towards
Orgasmic ecstasy.


Levels

Suddenly awake
A subtle shift in ambiance
Or my own fear realized.

Dare to move
Dare to dream
That this feeling is real
Wanted it,
Desired it,
Demanded it.
Never contemplating
Consequences
For me
For you
Our Life.

Now but a used courtesan
Watched and treated
As a plaything
To Have but
Never to Hold.

Imaginations run wild
Guffaws of laughter
Prove a cruel partner
As lipstick
Is smeared
Without thought or remorse.

Light ebbs
As your darkness
Smothers
Yet guides me too.

Your smirk
Reveals me
Only to please
Only to serve.

Abandonment complete
For tonight.


Staten Island: Someplace That I Used To Know.

“Oh Sandy the aurora is rising behind us
The pier lights our carnival life forever
Oh love me tonight and I promise I’ll love you forever
Hey Sandy Girl…”
Bruce Springsteen circa 1973

As I sat watching Hurricane Sandy start to pound Staten Island late on Monday night (October 29th), I was thinking about that song. The power had been out for a couple of hours and the titillation of
lighting candles, had long since passed, as mobile phones were turned off to conserve the batteries, because the storm could last all night, and who knew what the morning would bring.

Monday had started with a trip into Manhattan. Driving my sister-in-law and family, who were visiting from London, to their hotel in Times Square. The Governor’s of New York and New Jersey had already declared a ‘State of Emergency’.  The Mayor on NYC had decreed that all bridges and tunnels in and out of NYC would be closed at 2pm.
So off we went, 6 of us on a journey through the wind and rain. The traffic as expected was very light, and after dropping them off and making sure that their room was still available, we headed back to Staten Island, not knowing what lay ahead over the next 24 hours.

Midnight passed.
The wind was bending trees at a 45 degree angle, the fence next door had been ripped off, and the patio furniture was doing a macabre dance back and forth across the yard.
I stepped outside the front door with my torch and saw a black and white beach ball in front of my driveway.
WHOOSH….the windswept the ball away, I tried to follow with the torch, but I lost it and had to take a few more steps into the blackness, before I spotted it again.

For the next few minutes, there took place, in the middle of the most destructive hurricane to hit NYC since forever, a pantomime soccer game. Of course there were no players (that I could see), but I know they were there. And as if Sandy was paying homage to Sam Allardyce, the ball was hoofed up the road. Possession, quickly lost, as the ball was now winding its way back towards me, some neat one-two passing. Yet again, the big tackle robbed the ball and possession, and again the ball moved quickly away from me. I was getting soaked to the skin, the wind was ferocious and everyone else in the house was asleep…the old line of “Mad dogs and Englishmen” popped into my head, but I was hesitant to move.

Finally the decision was taken out of my hands, as the ball was at the end of the road and turned sharp right and was gone from my torchlight!
The game was over. I claimed a 1-0 victory for West Ham and retreated back inside the house.
For the next few hours, I fought back some water that was trickling into the house above the back door, and went off to bed, hoping that my make shift “towel barrier” would do the job.

Tuesday morning. The storm was over. Out back the neighbor’s fence had settled down and the broken furniture had taken up residence in some strange places, so I headed out front. Branches and tree limbs were scattered everywhere, but no downed trees. A couple of blocks away, people were not as lucky. Huge trees downed, streets ripped up and now impassable.
Who knew that we were the “lucky ones”.

No power. No phone service. I had a portable radio and that was the only contact to the outside world. Highlight’s, (actually Lowlights) from the first 30 minutes;
– the tide had crested at about 15 feet, the expectation was 12 feet
– Downtown Manhattan was under water
– Atlantic City and the entire Jersey Shore was devastated
– Brooklyn coastline was hit hard
– Out of control fire had claimed more than 100 houses in Breezy Point

Then the story moved to Staten Island.
Staten Island is the 5th Borough of NYC. It’s 5 miles from Manhattan on the Staten Island Ferry.
Most if not ALL Staten Islanders, think that we are the “forgotten” borough.
We have no sky scrapers; no financial district; no meat packing district; no fish market.
Staten Island is not Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens or Da Bronx.
What we do have is a very diverse borough filled with hard working families, who often buck the voting trend of the overwhelming “Democratic” NYC.

Sandy had given us…..
– a tidal wave that had taken 4 houses out to sea, along with a father and his 13 year old daughter
– a mother that had tried to escape the storm, her car was immobilized by a huge wave and when she got out of the SUV with her 2 children aged 2 and 4, the next wave had ripped them away from her forever and ever
– a 28 year old off duty Cop who had got his entire family up to the attic, but then went looking for his dad and stepped into his flooded 1st floor, which had a live wire hidden from his view
– a father and son huddled together in their basement. Later found in a final embrace

Our power came back early morning on Wednesday. Every local TV channel was showing Staten Island. The devastation of the eastern side of the Island was incomprehensible.
Shocking images of neighborhoods that we all knew; that we had friends in; that I had coached and played soccer in.
In total 20 deaths. Each a tragedy. Each one with its own story. As the death toll rose, each death was told, and re-told by the media.

“…And me, I just got tired of hangin’ in them dusty arcades, bangin’ them pleasure machines
Chasin’ the factory girls underneath the boardwalk where they all promise to unsnap their jeans
And you know that tilt-a-whirl down on the south beach drag
I got on it last night and my shirt got caught
And they kept me spinning, babe, didn’t think I’d ever get off…”

Even though Springsteen wrote Sandy about the Jersey Shore, these words were sadly true about all places along the Eastern seaboard. Boardwalks were now gone and any rides had suddenly been swallowed by the sea.

However, it’s not just the landscape that has been changed forever.
Staten Island was no longer the Forgotten Borough. We were now in the spotlight. The world suddenly discovered that NYC actually did have 5 boroughs.

For me, I preferred it the other way…


Atonement.

Simmering haze
Distorts everything
Air so hot, so heavy
Tasting the jet fuel
In my mouth
Even the most expensive
Water cannot rid me of it.

That I have dreamed about
A journey
A rebirth
For me
Along with renewal.

Eyes closed now
So hot
As memories surge
So intense
Feeling you
Fingers stroking me
Lips caressing me
As sweat trickles between us
Pulling you closer
I gasp aloud
As I hear a distant voice
Calling the faithful to prayer.

Snap back.
Eyes wide open
They tell my story
To those that look and wonder.

Time left us behind
Lives fashioned their own path
Friends once Lovers
Lovers once friends
Regale me
Dance before me
Arms wide open
As I take my first step.


Nous Deux

When we touch
Don’t ever let me go
Hold me
Adore me
Let me feel you
Climb inside my soul.


One

Petals cushion my eager steps
Subtle images
Twist and turn all around
Conjured and created
As candles flicker,
Their aroma
Intoxicating
Sensual
Perfect.

My first glimpse
As you move slowly
Amongst the shadows
Blending
Yet inviting
Waiting patiently
For me.

Nerve ends tingle
That ache
So deep inside me
Expectation and
Anticipation
Join together
Holding my breath
As I step
Into you.

That first touch
Overwhelms me
Lifts me
My breath
Rushes out
To you
I give in
Far too easily
Revealing my wanton desire
To feel your warmth
Everywhere
Needing
As you explore
Every inch of me.

Your hotness
Sweeps
In me
Through me
Across me
Delivering me
As you lay me down.

I am alive again
Gentle caress
Memories surge forth
As a single tear
Escapes
My passion fueled
Inhibitions removed
Rusty chains
Cast off now,
To experience
This new joy
That is found for us
Here in this moment
As One.