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Samstar
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New Munch for Eureka Springs. Third or fourth week of the month, hoping to start in November 2011, or Dec. RSVP only. Contact me for details!
I DO NOT YAHOO INSTANT MESSAGE AT ALL. You can communicate like a real peson here or I will IGNORE you. Hello. I am a lifestyle dominant. I seek compatible submissive(s) for real time exploration of this lifestyle. I am articulate, and financially secure. I am seeking my age and younger only.
Having tried for real time meetings here, I recognize that most people seem to only relate to a dungeons & dragons fantasy roleplay, not an intimate connection involving trust, power exchange and real emotions. I won't tolerate communications with slaves who can only grunt, and beg to serve me, expecting acceptance without even a meeting. don't ask. It seems people can only say stupid things on that system. I DO NOT YAHOO. so Stuff like this will not impress me enough to pursue further. If your job is so high level you must be secretive and mysterious about everything, you need to date James Bond's ex-girlfriend, not me. I find it particularly hard to relate to doctors and lawyers as this is a favorite posture of those in that profession. If you are so compromised professionally you can't be real on this system, I am not interested at all and I will IGNORE you.
While my relationships with slaves is never vanilla, there are social aspects that I require, so if you are looking to "session" I am not available. I like articulate men, tall, athletic, and usually having a broad skill base that does not fit easy categories. Intellectual without the baggage would be very appealing.
I don't mind yah IM, but frankly, if you are looking to take a role, and play on IM, I won't have time from you. I won't exchange long without a phone call and at least the possibility of a face-to-face meeting. Be practical if that's your goal. If not, I will disappear rather quickly, and I make no apologies about that. I WILL DUMP ALL THAT INSIST ON ONLINE FANTASY. I do not work for you, and you cannot reuire me to work, so the answer is NO.
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After the Great Inventions
the maps changed,
land sank to sea,
sea rose to valleys
of stone trees.
The gray bird flew
but could no longer find Nebraska,
the white-suited American,
or his tinted-window Cadillac.
The stars rescued the migrant.
People talked about lost cities
and the new age.
Who would listen to the singer improvise
Chicago blues without a beer
in New Orleans Resurrection Hall?
@concretedog, all rights reserved.
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Web Monkey Rebel
Yes, I'm a Web Monkey Rebel
with too many causes
and not enough laws.
I've got my tools,
I'm nobody's fool.
I don't bite people
except for that one time,
but he wasn't upset,
really didn't seem to mind.
Yes, I've got code
and awesome imagination
if I can remember where I put it.
I never understood it
until that angel explained,
carefully folding his huge wings
and positioning his crutch.
He struck a light to his joint
and passed over as much
as was humane.
He told me,
"Somebody in my family
had to be born with wit
and somehow I got out of it.
I'm just a monster,
and them, out there, are big monsters.
I sleep all winter, and eat lawyers
all summer. I have bad patterns.
But the test of the question is:
who is the most monster?"
Crutches don't lie, so I replied,
"Build it
and they will click through."
"Amen, little sister,"
and he lifted and swooped away
above the cubicle walls.
I can still see his smoky trail
of grass blue.
@concretedog, all rights reserved.
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Two Appaloosas
I once believed the moon above the dessert
blurted escape routes to me across the sand,
and that the murky scent of hurt, or murder
would unfold my excuses. Selfish and bland,
I thought a one-legged dance through Interstellar Space
would sustain a misfit. I mean, I did finally learn
to move on. How do I know this tune
unfamiliar to my ear?
You must have grown choices like turnips
in the black soil of your tangled yard, and this day,
I am a freckled horse cut from the herd,
running at the red crack of sky.
Countless Appaloosa streaks
cross the hoof horizon and for you, ugly man,
I have broken free.
@concretedog, all rights reserved.
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Outlaw Heaven For Fucking Freaks
To live as I have, in cheap hotels,
parked on freeways, under bridges at night,
is surely stupid and censurable. Why else
am I called obscene, vulgar, lewd,
disrespectful, politically incorrect and hateful,
unless other people have some point, a beef
with my acceptances and hobbies.
On the inside I am bathed in love --
On the outside I am screaming:
this alone is enough to send a peon
straight to hell, yet that's not
what happened. Jesus,
the great death bodhisattva,
was a better comic than I first thought.
Art and politics are rotten jobs,
especially together.
Thank God, forgiveness is general
and here in outlaw heaven
there are no saints, princes, or presidents.
So outlaw, if I can tell you anything
about getting into heaven
it must be to drain the wine,
bitter and empty,
stroke the crippled boy,
toast the blind pussy under your hand,
kiss the wind and spit.
@concretedog, all rights reserved.
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Some Startling Sharpness
The knife's startling sharp
Brings up a sprig of blood
Lays open the finger's personal belief.
Every small slick pain still sinks deep,
Thinks of its own heart beating alone.
Pick up your pieces to get whole again --
Pull the strings that wire your bones.
Work that puppet mind. Get up and rattle.
Sometimes I stare at a stone, and while
I don't believe it is alive,
I still don't rule it out.
Sometimes I can slink over these ideas,
Think without thoughts
And rhyme without particular reason.
As I see it, pirates speak
Of beasts sinking their teeth into keels
Just before the storm breaks.
No one knows what strikes below.
Gory, depressing poems are fashionably rich.
Stories of the afterlife
And those beautifully tragic no longer move me.
I don't rule out changing this, too.
On a good day, I can see nothing --
I am evil in every way,
A heretic in the temple of justice.
One of my crimes is radical.
One of my crimes is political.
One of my crimes is moral.
One of my crimes is Federal.
To confess a few crimes is not surprising.
Please allow these small fractures to serve
As a blueprint of your salvation.
The Enemy of the State has many friends
In the tumble words of the weed --
"The startling sharp of the knife
Brings up a tarp of blood."
@concretedog, all rights reserved
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Rebel Truck
Rebel in Missouri, rebel in Cheyenne,
Rebel in Kissimmee, working for the man.
Rebel in Tacoma, rebel on the lam,
Rebel in L.A., no one gets who I am.
I may drown New Jersey, on my trek to the sea,
Maybe walk to Little Rock, carve my name on a tree.
If you see me coming, lock down and hit the phone,
Tell the law you saw me, and say I rode alone.
Rebel lights the civil rules, rebel bites the judge,
Rebel lights the cold thin fuse, rebel holds a grudge.
Rebel drives a tall red truck, rebel blows a tire.
Rebel loves to fuck a cop, rebel cuts the wire.
Rebel rolls to El Paso, there to take a nap --
Rebel shot the hotel clerk while asking for a map.
No one saw me cash it, no one saw me run,
rebel knew she blew it when she stashed the gun.
Rebel in North Austin, rebel in South Bay,
Rebel stuck in traffic, tied up along the way.
Someone waits to nab me, anywhere I go,
Law man set to grab me on the curvy road.
Rebel of those Harlem nights, rebel's dirty world,
Rebel in the red street light, a one-ton rebel girl.
@concretedog, all rights reserved
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| Age: 21 |
| South Hadley,
Massachusetts |
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