The Final Tiger

March 24, 2018

This particular expiration
was the end of the show.

He did not think of extinction.

He did not look around as if to acknowledge
similar tigers yet free, others breathing in his moment.

His memories, if he had memories,
were not of the long sentence
of his kind, now resolved.
His worrisome, glass-edged memories
would have been of the need to start
with a burst of low, leathery, unbottled

speed – acceleration and not endurance –
an angle to cut off the most
laggard of the herd. Only the most laggard.
Never the best: the best could go on,
breed, build an ever stronger species, a species
that would last past the sacrifice
of its slowest, the sacrifice of the ones
at the uncelebrated back of the pack.

His loss was foretold to us by those of us
lingering unchallenged at the back of our pack.

They are looking over their shoulders still.

Ken Poyner

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

Charles Bukowski

Sucking on Your Cock

March 18, 2018

There is nothing more that I would love to do to you,
Something that I know that you would also want me to do,
Than to take my hot, wet mouth and wrap it all around you tight,
And suck on your hardness until morning light,
Playfully flicking my tongue across the tip,
Waiting eagerly for that pre cum so that I can sip,
Doing my very best to take you all the way to the back of my throat,
Oh…if feels so fucking good don’t it,
Placing my hands around you firmly as I begin to suck,
Imagining how I wish your hard cock I will get the chance to fuck,
But for now I will continue to do what I do best,
What’s that, you say that you wanna put it on my chest,
No, no Mr. I want to swallow every last little bit,
I have had a craving for your cum I have to admit,
I feel your cock begin to get harder and more pronounced,
I think about your hard dick that I soon will sit upon and bounce,
Ahhh, you are getting ready to cum,
I cannot wait until I get to taste some,
Cum on baby, blow your thickness all inside my mouth you know you can’t hold it anymore,
Cum on let me be your cum guzzling whore!


Pain & Pleasure

March 18, 2018

I can feel every cave in your paradise,
I know every wisp of smoke in your memory
I can catch my breath
on the back of your neck
and I want to keep you
forever warm.

We’re not just touching
we’re exploring
the colours wrapped in
a wheel of me and you.

You pull me up the slope
all I can see is hands and skin and thundering need

Your torture rises to my peak
Our sounds dip and curve to the beat
Our pleasure, our pain
is the kingdom we’ve won
sheer desire we both welcome
with open arms.

We are each other’s cracks and
bleeding weaknesses,
we lift each other up
on pure sinful wings
And after all we’re breathless

We rise as one, crash to earth,
our bodies glittering with the chaos between us

Together we are everything,
we are nothing,
tangled in each other
and breathing for each other
and gasping for everything we could be

we are so much more now.

Maya Hanson


March 18, 2018

Snow is both sides of the same page
It covers the grave and the tulip
It holds the heat in and reflects it back
While falling it hides your passage
When finished it documents your path

Richard L. Ratliff

You would become a sultry verse
in this anthology of every day
lodged between the rush and
vacancy of broken hearts
and anguished limbs…

Day Closes

March 17, 2018

Across the lake
wind ripples
choppy waves
like goose bumps
thrilling over
my skin.
On shore
ducks flap wings
in a feathery applause.
Aspen leaves giggle,
like children
supposed to be asleep,
and a cricket chirps
the sunset
into basic black
trailing like a whiff
of lilac before closure.

Diane Webster

Girls night out

March 16, 2018

She wore blue eyeliner
to reflect her wistful mood
satin black mascara
to mask her empty soul.
Smoky grey eye shadow
to create the illusion
of a picture perfect life
in its premier role.

She slips on stilettos
to reach Aquarian stars
a matching evening purse
that holds her veiled details.
Applies red to her lips
as if her fire was not enough
and a mysterious smile
in case all else fails.

Out into the cool night
walking behind her bright dreams
searching for a heaven
she has long lived without.
Dancing to the motions
moving to tomorrow’s song
singing the hopeful promise
of a girl’s night out…

Evening in the city
posed in suggestive essence
starring and acting in
her unreality show.
Sweet perfume lends its taste
in the absence of honesty
spotlights create the shine for
vacant eyes that glow.

Empty heart bears armour
weapons that smile and glean
preparing to do battle
for love she holds in doubt.
Act One, Scene One is set
for the romance of her life
the curtain slowly rises
for a girl’s night out…

Tina Culp Barton

Sorry for being a Bitch

March 6, 2018

I don’t like those good boys
Fresh faced, bright eyes
Chewing on their white lies
I like the rough lips
Rugged on his cheek bones
Who would have known
I don’t belong to anyone
I held him captive
In my skin
My whiskey lips
Held him in
And exhaled his ghost
Where’d you go?
You’re somewhere in the body sleeping next to me
But the left side of the bed is cold
Who would have known
I’d break the bad boy
Boy, you should have known
When you saw me drinking straight out of the bottle
When I smoked all your cigarettes
I’m nothing but bad news
When we first met
You asked for my name
I said it was trouble
It wasn’t a challenge
It was a warning
That you didn’t heed
And now look at us
Broken and bent
Shattered pieces on the bathroom floor
But I’ll get better
I’ll put myself back together
I don’t think you’ll be so lucky
Because I can see the look in your eyes
You’re used to breaking
Not getting broken
And I can tell you won’t be getting over this soon


A Vampiric’s Lust

March 4, 2018

eyes the colour of gold
there is a story that must be told
a passionate soul that is true
could i be the one for you?
within the darkness of night there is a secret i must hide
could you be the holder of my pride?
through the paleness of life,
you will never let me bring down my knife
with you buy my side i may never die
because i make you form a gentle sigh…
you tell me i have no strife
but what is the point of immortality if you deny yourself the simple pleasures in life
the immortality i declare is not the answer so beware

Aubrey Silver