Tag Archives: relationships

Boys & Girls – Alabama Shakes (Why Can’t We Be Best Friends Anymore?)

Song: Boys & Girls

Artist: Alabama Shakes

How? Why am I just discovering them? Their album has been out about a week over a year.

I’m completely in love!

Love their live performances, and I would looooove to see them in concert.

The band is amazing, and Brittany sings with her whole body and she’s pretty amazing to watch, as well as listen to!

Alabama Shakes
The Shakes!

Alabama Shakes – Boys & Girls

Had to add some more:

Alabama Shakes: Hold On

(No, I don’t wanna wait!)

Alabama Shakes – Rise to the Sun

All I believe in is a dream
I haunt the Earth though I am fully seen
In all my years I’ve never felt more sure than now
Well, I got to get off this rock somehow

I feel so homesick
Where’s my home
Where I belong
Where I was born
I was told to go
Where the wind would blow
And it blows away – away

Well, my eyes are full of stars
But I just can’t reach ’em, oh, how high they are
I got to believe what I’m seeing , ooh  maybe it could come true
But in a modern world that can be so hard to do

Good stuff!



Glorious (3.24.2013/Poem 13)


I don’t want a lifetime—
that’s too long
I don’t need a decade
for your love
But you’ve caught me at my peak
And this I’d like to keep
in mind
For as long as remembrance will allow

Push me to my Precipice
Help me to my Zenith
Bring me to my Crowning Moment
And Kiss my Feet

Make this one sticky memory last
The rest of my Glorious days
And please make it Good


Dante – Cheerleader Chant (3.21.2013/Poem 11)

Having a little fun ;)

Dante (Cheerleader Chant)

No more
I’m done
Baby it was fun
but I am gone
hope you crash
your car and Die
You and that girl
you Fucked,
you’re shit out of luck
I hate your guts
live loooong
long After you die
in a stony pit of fire
where constant Pleasure turns to Pain
the women always Scream your name
and are forever Playing games
with all you
hope you love the titillation
more than constant stimulation
the attention you receive
from every type you can conceive
and the feeling that it brings
to have the bitches of your dreams
My King

I love you

Stay with Me: In the Style of Lorraine Ellison

My Beautiful Blog, How I Have Neglected Thee…

It’s been over a month since I’ve posted anything, and this was not at all my intention. I haven’t been too busy, so that’s not a valid excuse, I just kept putting off writing a post to the next day and the next day and the next day…until over a month had passed.

But in my defense, I have been finding it difficult to write lately. This one short story I’m working on just won’t come together on the page the way the scenes look in my head. Hate when that happens.

In the meantime, all I ask is that you “Staaaaaayyy With Me Baaaabyyyy!! Pleeeeassee Staaaaaayyy With Me Baaaabyyyy!!” ;)

Lorraine Ellison – Stay with Me

I discovered “Stay with Me” by Lorraine Ellison recently and I’ve been listening to it non-stop. It breaks my heart every time.

There are other versions by many different singers (The Walker Brothers, Bette Midler, Duffy, Ruby Turner, Sam Brown, Kiki Dee, Terry Reid, Karise Eden from The Voice: Australia, Mary J. Blige weaved a part of the song into her Grammy performance in 2007, Melissa Etheridge sang a live version for the iheartRadio Live Series…etc. I’m sure there’s plenty more versions out there), but for me, the original by Lorraine Ellison is the best!

And while the lyrics are nice, I’d bet it’s her arrangement and gut-wrenching performance that inspired the other singers to perform the song in the first place.

It’s powerful, as hearing/seeing/witnessing someone bear their soul usually is.

I’m not sure if begging for someone’s love or trying to convince them to stay is an indication of deep, all-consuming love or an unhealthy obsession (are they different?), but to witness it is beautiful.

True and honest raw emotion is always beautiful, especially when it’s pain.

People hold back their feelings so often that watching someone else go all-in on a lost bet makes them look like they’ve won the jackpot, even though they’re too damned hurt to celebrate.

So, readers, just in case you’ve questioned my love, I’m not too embarrassed to plead for yours.

If you loved me here once, how could I not beg you to stay?


His Will (9.17.12/Poem 10)

His Will

If you let him walk all over you,
He Will
If you let him disrespect you,
He Will
If you want him to break your heart
Consider it Broken
Don’t ask why

If you revolve your life around his
He Will Let You
If you abandon your thoughts for his
He Will Let You
If you want him to complete you
Consider Yourself Deficient
Don’t ask why

If you trade in your family for his
He Will Embrace You
If you give up your dreams for his
He Will Embrace You
If you want to disappear
Consider Yourself Consumed
Don’t ask why

If he is all you need
He Will Never Let You Go
If you do not wish for more
He Will Never Let You Go
If you want to feel alone
You Are Deserted
Don’t ask why

If you praise him as a God
He Will Love You
If you worship at his feet
He Will Love You

If you wish to feel lost
You Will Never Be Found


The Sex Question (8.20.12/Story 6)

Jason went for it, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she smiled.

“Do you use me for sex?”

Do I use you for sex? You wish I used you for sex. The sex is good, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve had better without the headaches you cause me. I’m actually insulted by your question. Had you asked if I used you for your money, I could understand that, because sometimes I do. I also use you for your apartment when I need to escape my roommate, and your car since I don’t drive. I use you to make me laugh, to keep me company; I use you when I need a warm body to lie next to. I use you to fix my computer and various other electronics in my house. I use you as my date when I need one; I use you to massage my feet and my back. I use you to pull my hair, suck my toes, and nibble my thighs (sex related, but not sex, not really). I use your ear when I’m upset and need to vent. I use you to run errands for me, etc., etc., etc. Yes, I use you, for many things, but for sex? You struck out on that one. Wrong question completely. Any woman can go out and find herself some carefree, no-strings-attached, dirty, unemotional sex with a caveman who wants to be used, and not have to deal with anyone’s feelings or silly ass questions. And the caveman would know to just enjoy the fucking and not bog down the whole experience with a question that has insecure written all over it in neon flashing lights. When you don’t know  when you’ll see someone again, or what they do when you’re not around; and when you do see them it’s just for sex, that’s a relationship of mutual sexual usage, which is usually fun, but we don’t have that.  So please, don’t lose your cool because I like sex and I like it often. I’m enjoying myself. Don’t ruin a good thing.

Shay watched Jason as he slid down toward the edge of her bed to collect his clothes off the bedroom floor. She loved watching him move—six feet tall, lean build with thin muscles, and skin the color of freshly ground cocoa. He hopped a little as he pulled up his denim jeans; Shay watched the workings of his back while he struggled to get his head through the top of his sweatshirt. She couldn’t help but picture a well oiled, finely tuned machine working in perfect harmony underneath his dark chocolate skin.

Jason slowly turned around and worked his eyes up from the bottom of her sun-bronzed feet with her red toenails, passed the silhouette of her bare body, to the warm smile planted on her face as she sat at the top of her bed, with her back against the wall.

Jason went for it, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she smiled.

“Do you use me for sex?”

Shay paused, then slowly stood up in the bed and walked over to Jason and positioned herself in front of him. The support of the bed added six inches to her height over his. She grabbed his face with both of her hands, stared into his eyes before she closed her own, and kissed his lips. She placed his arms around her waist and put her arms over his shoulders and pulled him into her.

“No,” she whispered in his ear.


Love Widow (7.30.12/Story 5)

Love Widow (Draft 1)

They loved.

Harder than they should have, and he was a performer. He talked the talk, he walked the walk, and she relished every second of it. He was purely genuine, and she felt it in every vertebrae of her spine as he rubbed his hands along the small of her back.

She allowed herself to be pulled in and he kissed her deeply, her body pulsating in tandem with the beat of his heart as she felt him smile against her lips.

She absorbed her energy from the black of the night sky; he held on for dear life. She palmed his head and nibbled, then bit down sharply. His body grew limp. No fight; no retaliation; no resentment. He lay there crumpled—in bits and pieces— as she finished him off, and her belly rounded out to the extent of its fullness.


(Kinda loving these little stories that end around the 100-200 word mark. Definitely want to work on filling them out and really making them come to life!)

Exit Interview – A No More Love Story (6.20.12/Story 3)

Exit Interview (First Draft)

“But, I love you Kazim” Almana repeated.

“I love you too, but I just can’t do this with you anymore,” Kaz coolly replied.

She held her head back—nose in the air—to keep her tears from flowing. She wished she could bury her face in her hands, but decided pitiful was beneath her.

“Do what?” she asked, “You act like this is a chore or a game, we’re not playing Monopoly, this is my life—our lives.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Alma, I just don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore. I’m not happy.”

Kaz expected their break up to be difficult and vowed to only give the whole process two hours before he mentioned that he had plans and had to leave, but he could tell she was going to try and keep him there as long as possible. They were only ten minutes in and he already saw tears. He wanted to cry with her for effect, and to make her feel better,  but he’d never been that upset about anything except his father dying, and could never cry over a woman.

“And what about me?  Alma asked. She couldn’t help raising her voice now and looking him in his eyes, which seemed cold and distant, as they usually did. “You think I’m happy with you all the time? They’re called trials and tribulations asshole. You don’t just give up.”

Alma’s intention was not to try and convince Kaz to stay with her. Most days she couldn’t stand to be around him and he made her miserable, but she had a strong attachment to the love they used to have when it was fresh five years ago, and by staying with him and fighting for him, she had convinced herself that she was the loyal one. And he was doing exactly what she had expected of him—leaving.

Kaz met her stare and tried to look compassionate and spare her feelings, but he had long ago stopped sympathizing with her. Often, she seamlessly managed to play the bully and the victim, but she had just given him an opening by calling him an asshole. It didn’t bother him one way or the other whether or not she called him names (except if it was in front of other people), but to drive his point home, he used it against her..

“You continuously disrespect me by calling me names, this is exactly the type of shit I’m always warning you about.”

“So, you’re leaving because I call you names?” She asked sarcastically.

Kaz almost laughed, he knew she would reduce everything they had been through, to something simple and try and make him feel silly about his decision. He waited a minute to compose himself, so he could speak to her with a straight face.

“You know that’s not all. We’ve been through all of this before, we have the same arguments time after time. “

Truth is, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what went wrong in their relationship. It wasn’t any one big thing, it was a series of small disappointments that got them to a place where they were always on opposite sides of the fence. He was banking on the fact that she could feel things weren’t going well between them and wouldn’t ask for specifics from him and just let it all go. Individually everything she had ever done in their relationship could be considered minor offenses. But a million minor offenses is major.

Alma remained quiet for a minute or two as Kaz sat and watched her. He checked the time on his phone three times during their awkward silence and this was one thing that made her angry about him. He could never be in one place at a time.

Alma was well aware that they had spent the last two years drifting further and farther apart, but she wasn’t done yet. And if anybody was to leave, she wanted it to be her. He’s the one who cheated on her a year into their relationship, but she had her indiscretions as well, so she gave it one good argument to make him feel bad and to give her an opportunity to yell freely at the guilty man, and then she swept it under the rug. He got caught, she didn’t.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and sniffed the snot back in her nose. She needed to be clear-headed and rational about this and wanted him to take her seriously.

“You know what, Kaz?”

He immediately knew she was framing him for a set up with that question and her new found resolve.

“What?” He asked.

“Would you leave your job and explain to your co-workers and your supervisor that you were leaving because you were unhappy.”

He knew where she was taking this, but couldn’t find a way out.

“Probably not,” he answered, skeptically.

“Me either, so let’s do this properly and formally. It doesn’t make sense for me to get all emotional and sappy. I’m an adult, I’m 23, you’re 27, we can have a grown up conversation and a dignified ending to our five year relationship, right?”

Alma didn’t mean anything she was saying, but was tired of being the only one fighting for a relationship that neither of them needed or wanted to be in.

‘I came over here hoping that is what would happen, but you started crying and bringing the whole vibe of the conversation to a level I didn’t want to go, and—“

“Don’t be negative,” she interrupted him, “We’re moving on. I’d just like to ask you a few questions.”

“Oh God. You can ask anything you want. But I made plans, and I have to leave in about fifteen minutes.” Kaz knew what she was doing. Almana was a writer for a local magazine and when she was angry and tried to cover it up, she turned everything into business and went into reporter mode.

“You can’t just do this for me?” she lightly pleaded.

“I said you can ask, I’m not doing this forever though.”

“Forever is a long time, and we’ve been doing this long enough already” she said.

He was in no mood for her sarcasm, “Ask your questions, Alma.”

“Okay, well we’ll start with the most important one; what is your primary reason for leaving?” she asked.

Kaz was about to repeat himself and felt they were talking in circles around each other, at this point he was annoyed.

“I told you, I’m not—“

“Don’t say you’re not happy, that’s not an excuse. It’s just not good enough.”

Kaz agreed to answer her questions, knowing that this was another one of the things about her that irked him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not fucking happy. This is not work, you’re not interviewing me. You can’t make me say anything else. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”

Not only did Kaz not like the way she questioned him, but he didn’t have an answer for her. He would have to name all of the little things about her that bothered him, with them all sounding trivial, even to himself and he didn’t see the point of wasting the time.

Alma pulled a notepad and a black ballpoint pen out of her purse.

“Okay, we’ll come back to it later, did anything trigger your decision to leave?”

She knew she was annoying him, and was enjoying herself a little bit, but for the most part, but she truly did want to hear his answers.

“Yes,” he answered, “A lot of things.”

She lost her cool, “Name them!” she yelled.

Kaz took that as his cue to leave, he had had enough.

“I’m not doing this Alma. I’m leaving. Everything always ends up the same way. I have to go,” Kaz stood up from the table.

“Yeah, you always end up leaving because you’re a coward and that’s what cowards do.”

“There you go calling me names again, but you want me to do everything you want me to do and I’m the coward?”

Calm, once again, she replied, “All I want is some answers or some type of closure.”

“You have all the answers, you don’t need me. Case closed. I tried Alma, I really did.”

“And so did I, so did I,” she said slowly.

“What went wrong?”

This definitely needs to be filled out, but I like their dialogue so far!


Photographic Memories – Poem (6.7.12/Poem 3)

Photographic Memories

A former Love sent me two photographs


 my left hand

slipped into

a Black & White diamond ring

he bought me

the other:

 a stuffed seal

who holds a red starfish

between his flippers,

 we named him Bobby Brown

and he became ours

on a trip to the aquarium

that we weren’t even going to take

because it was raining all morning,

but the sun decided to smile—

Good times

Sweet memories

Yet, it seems too perfect

 that we couldn’t snap photos of

the Yelling matches

the Hurt feelings

and the slamming of doors.