Search of Avalon. For whom do you search, my love?

as one

Fun with Erotica (Fill in the hot little blanks)

He gently lay her down on the 1_____
and button by button,
his anxious fingers
opened her 2_______.
She sighed.
Slowly, he put his 3____
to her 4________
and gently 5_____.
She moaned... "yes."

After a few moments,
she sat up,
taking his 6______
in both hands and
proceeded to 7______ .
He groaned with 8_______
for this was all new to him.

Then she was ready...
She pulled him down
onto her.
He fumbled for an instant then
eased in the 9______
of his 10_______ .
They began 11______,
He couldn't believe this
was really happening

Sweat glistened on their 12______
as they 13______
moving, rocking
back and forth,
locked in embrace
for what seemed like hours,
14________ and 15________.

Until
in a creeping eruption,
when they couldn't
stand it any longer;
couldn't fight it-
couldn't hold back-

they 16_________
together,
in a giant cresendo,
both crying out
in exquisite ecstasy.


guess i woke up today
feeling a little randy...Naughty Poly

Fun with Words

Saddam and Gomorrah,
Immaculate regurgitation,
Phychological fiesta,
Vagina martyrdom,
Sensuous lungworm,
Disgruntled homosexual,
Shameless infantilism,
Chopsuey conquistador,
Holy holocaust.

Paxil ejaculation,
Subversive healthcare
Illiterate intellectual,
Cromatic urination,
Figleaf elevation,
Spasmodic penis,
Pipefitting piosity,
Imbecile savant,
Chemotherapy propoganda.

nonsensical Polyman2.

wanderer

God is....

God is;
the light
that is the spark
of life in a newborn.
The spark of hope
for a world
that has long
lost it's way.
A prayer that maybe
it is possible
to learn from
past mistakes;
to right past wrongs
on a new day...
and maybe
just maybe
that baby
will be the one that
shows us how.

God is;
the light
in your eyes,
and mine,
that lights the way
radiating confidance
that no matter
how dark it gets
inside or out,
or how lonely and
frightened we find
ourselves
that we do not
walk alone through
that menacing valley.

God is;
the loving hand that
leads a child
onto a path that is moral
and right.
A strong hand the grasps
a drowning hand
bringing it
to safety.
A broken soul
mended with compassion
and love...and
3 simple words
to travel through
life with,
the hardest words
ever to obey,
since the beginning-
sin no more.

God is;
a tugging feeling
we experience
in our guts
that makes us
turn away
when we witness
mans lies, brutality
and carnage
in the guise
of personal pride, flags
and religion.

God is;
everything
if you believe,
and nothing-
if you don't.
But there is
no denying
that we are
all here together
for whatever reason
on this one
wonderful little
pathetic planet
until the
day comes
when we
finially get to learn
that God is
everything or nothing
we ever thought
he was.

Merry Christmas World!
JPS aka Polyman2
Xmas 2005

capitalist in training

Office at the Top

He had arrived.

It was a difficult journey.
One that took years.
But it was well worth it.
He was a Professional.

He put his nose to the grindstone
at a early age and did what
he had to do to get to
The Top.

Armed with a cutthroat
reptilian ego, feirce determination,
sharp focus, nerves of steel,
saintly patience and unyeilding
p-e-r-s-i-s-t-a-n-c-e...
He had conquered all!

...and he had made it
to that wonderous place
he used to only hear about;
dream about... the office
on the top floor,
but, for a brief moment
it felt... lonely.

He had arrived
and he was alone.
There was no one
here to celebrate with.
No one left to congratulate him,
admire him...
but he supposed
that came with the territory
and he was learning.

Because on his way up
he had burned all his bridges
and squashed his rivals
like grapes.

Of his subordinates,
not many survived.
Those that had were beaten;
and pummeled into submission
to glorify him.
Besides, he could
always find new ones
to replace the old ones that expired;
fresh underlings that would
exalt and worship him;
treat him like the
cooperate God he was.
For he understood finance,
his company turned a profit,
and he was on his way!

This was the way of the world,
the way he was taught to do things,
and this was business.

He was the
COO-Cheif Opreating Officer
and a heavy hitter,
a highflyer, a major player;
The Head Honcho!

and be certain;
heads will always roll!

O'kay

You know where I'm going.

Yes Polyman, there is a Santachrist.

Behold: He has come
to shop. He knows
everything must go!
It is written.

I will not use
his name in vain.
I fear eternal damnation.
but I can also spot
a great bargin.

Please have commpassion
on our wallets
and pocketbooks
this holy season.

I now know
he is real.
I see his presence
all around
in the form
of crude decorations
and plastic images.

Santachrist.

Thou art heavy!

My cup runneth over.

so kind.

Oh, you all are
so kind...
for commenting
so favoribly,
and I am happy.

I didn't think anyone
read my glob.
I mean blob, sorry...blog
silly me.

I think my brain tries
to slip out of my ear
at night,
onto my pillow.
I find traces
and remnants
of thoughts
and earwax
mixed in the bedshheets
upon rising...
but I can't
seem to remember.

I feel weird,
naked as I sit here
shivering
in front
of my computer screen.
I look down-
and I am naked-
and limp
and small.
The horror.

I dreamed I was
a giant.

Animal Revenge

Woman in Chair.

The Emperors new clothes

At odds with myself.

I like bunny rabbits, kittins and playful puppies.
It makes me fuzzy just thinking about them.

Why can't everyone be happy?
Take a minute and smile-
Doesn't that feel great!

How's your bowel movement?
I'm am very regular.
I think that's important for a happy long life. Don't you?

I am trying so hard to be normal- not a negative word, yet.
I'm very proud of myself...so far.
No sarcasm, no profanity.

I really like it when the sun shines-
but it's OK if it rains; we can still have fun indoors.
We can bake cookies with lots of sugar...ummmm.

This posting is so nice.
I don't know how long I can continue...
it's beginning to hurt.

I like to wear shoes. They make my toes happy,
and keep my feet warm and toasty.

Butterfies are nice. They are so colorful.
Remind me of summer.

The laughter of children is like the sound of music...

I hated that f@#*ing movie...No-No! Stop that!
It was a nice movie, filled with singing and hope and... and...love.

I love love, and sex.
Hard wet sex!...Oh no...no...must not regress- must be strong!!
Ohhhh baby- Yeaaaa Do it!
TAKE IT BITCH!!!!
F@#K EVERYBODY! I CAN'T BE NICE ANYMORE...I just can't!...
AAARRRGGG!!!!

I'm sorry dear reader, I think this post has gone terribly wrong.
Polyman2 is having a breakdown of sorts.
We have to get him back on his medication.

Please accept this as a formal apology and stay tuned.

My Open Letter

I know I can be happy
as long as
I have you by my side;
on my side.
I am not a bad person-
just a little biffed-up
bent-up and
bewildered.

But I can still smile,
and laugh
and work
through my pain.
Sure, I am older
and I hope wiser.
But is age
an immenant
death sentence-
is it?

Please, be kind.
Do not judge me
on my past actions;
but listen to
my words-
I will not lie
anymore.

It is true,
I was coarse,
self-centered
and cruel causing
lots of pain
on those that
cared the most-
but today,
I am redemptional.
I have repented.
I am not that man
anymore.

Physically, Spiritually and Emotionally Bankrupt

I am guilty
of letting it all
hang out.
They gave me
enough rope
and guess what?
I hung myself.

Now I must pay,
and play their game
for the rest
of time.
You see, it's all
about the money
that I burned through
falsly thinking
it could bring
real happiness.

I was wrong my freinds.
I bought into their
unattainable dream
and now
I am fucked...
and I fear I will never
play the piano again.

0 Comments

I write to appease
the monster within
that growls and howls
at the rising moon.

Why can't you understand
it is a need that is never
satisfied, never fulfilled,
like a festering wound
that can't be healed.

Mother, you were right
to turn me out
so many years ago,
I am a miserable bastard
with nothing nice to say.

This is why I write.

Chared Remains

I search
the innermost folds
of my mind
and can't remember
how I wound up
down here.

I was at the top
of the hill,
top of my game
and I stumbled
and fell hard.

There was no safety net.
What could I do?
except tumble
and fall,
crash and burn.
and I still can't get up.

Reading the F#$@king Papers

I was there when the planes hit the towers
turning the sky black
that sunny morning
in September.
And it rained down fire and ash.
creating so much death and destruction
in a city known for it's
living and hard love
George took us to war to war
and sought revenge
out of anger
upon the wrong bully
who humiliated his daddy
many years ago-
just hadan old score
to settle.
Now, we have another 2000
to mourn of our own
with God who knows how many innocents
on the other side,
all sharing the same
black body bags-
freedom bags I call them.
Osama, you have created such a mess
in your quest to turn back the clock
and padlock peoples minds.
But I think the cat
is out of the bag
and catch you we will
if we happen to
stumble upon you,
but I hope it is not
the last thing we do
in our mission to free the world
from its own deception
and make it safe
to spread our own brand
of happiness
to be imposed
upon the unwilling
of the world.

Beyond Love

I have nothing to say,

I sit here in silence,

alone on a shelf

of the worlds design,

waiting for night to come.

Then I sit alone

in total darkness.

I hear the sound of rain

pinging off the plastic roof,

and feel abandoned

by all I hold dear.

Except you...

You will not leave me!

You are my lifeline;

my continuation.

When I fall,

which is sometimes-

you are there to cushion

the impact.

What I feel for you

is beyond love,

beyond

understanding;

All I could ever imagine.

Is there a Santachrist? I ask in my naive confusion.

He comes from above in a chariot overflowing with gifts and blessings. I tremble and bow low before his shadow. He has imitable power over me. I know I haven't been my best this year and I know he was watching.

I admit I have had lusty thoughts, I have been envious of those who live better than me, and have entertained dark desires of assaulting those who have wronged me.

I am racked with guilt, so as penance; I will sing 5 Christmas Carols and add 10 extra bright light sets to my house when I decorate. It is all I can do to appease him.

He has reindeer, 12 of them; they are his eyes, ears and engines. I will sing the special song about a certain reindeer I was taught in childhood to try and placate them. Yet, I am apprehensive of hearing hoofsteps on my roof in the middle of a cold wintry night in December; for they will bring him.

Santachrist...I whisper the name out loud. I shudder at the sound of my own words and genuflect; I am in awe of his grandeur. For he is very old and I know he has been around the block a few times.

As a small child, I would often wait on long lines for a chance to sit on his lap and dare to ask for things. I knew even then that I was unworthy. But, sometimes he would grant my wishes, sometimes not. That is his way...so they say.

Now I wish he could hear my needful pleas. For now that I am older, my needs have become greater and more desperate.

I will pray:

Oh Santachrist- Please hear my words...I ask not for more than I am entitled to; for I am still a sinner and still unworthy. But this holiday season, my greatest wish would there to be Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men and please don't forget the Harley Davidson Sportster...
Amen

Venom for RS

My lawyer speaks in tongues.
The only language he knows is dollars and cents.

He cares for nothing and no one else; not even his family begging for love; their smiling happy faces stare out of gold framed photos adorning his cold gaudy highly polished desk. The pictures were placed there by his wife for the sole purpose of reminding him of his responsibility to feed, cloth and support them.
It is that hard cold fact he is assaulted by each and every day as he hunkers down.

He is friendless, but a friend to all. He is polite to the T. The words flow off his slimy tongue as he smiles reassuringly. When he shakes your hand, it is as if grasping a large spineless lifeless fish that leaves your hand dank and soiled for days.

He has hopes of entering politics someday.
I think he will excel.

An open letter on the eve of a new Thanksgiving

We all have something to be thankful for. Whether it be so mundane as to just being alive, or something as super as finally getting that new Mercedes you've always dreamed of (I guess most of us would like to experience that thrill).
I think, just the fact that we live in this great country are grounds enough to be thankful. Where you go from here is really a personal question on the topic of what you expect from life. You may ask yourself: What does life owe me? What do I owe those that depend on me? What do I owe myself? Do you feel compelled to give of yourself something to those less fortunate? All seemingly valid questions to kick off this holiday season.
Is the welfare of your fellow countrymen a concern of yours? What about the welfare of all mankind and womankind around the globe? What about our overall flagrant disregard for the environment worldwide? More questions to ask ourselves.
We are all a day older than yesterday. What do you want to accomplish in your lifetime? If you are like me in the 2nd half century of life, what do you wish to accomplish with the time you have remaining? What is our responsibility to the future generations? Do we leave them a better world or the remnants of the world ravaged?
As Americans in this new millennium, we are besieged by news of all the turmoil in the world. Yet, we are envied and veiled in the same breath. Do we let our leadership take us down questionable paths, both hypercritical and self serving or do we stand up for what we know in our hearts is right and just? Can we reach out to help teach other peoples what it really means to be independent, free and an American. Will we still be the beacon of light that will shine brightly for all to see?
Remember the values this country was founded on. Remember our Declaration of independence, and the Constitution that men sacrificed and died for. Are these mere words on old paper or do they still really stand for something both moral and decent.
Many thoughts and questions to ponder on the eve of a new Thanksgiving as we prepare to feast in celebration of all our blessings.

Love

I gaze into her hazel eyes, those eyes I know so well, and suddenly everything is all right. The day's stress melts away in a heatbeat. I exhale and am myself again and at ease. I know I will all be o'kay for another night as long as she is here.

Not Myself.

Sex is dirty only if it's done right.
Experience is what you get when you don't get what you want.
A pessimist is an optimist with experience.
Success is getting what you want; happiness is wanting what you get.

Since an early age, I have never really known contentment. I can't sit idle for too long. My brain needs constant stimuli or else I tune out. I am on the verge of withdrawing even as I write this. Most of the time, I am f-ing bored with myself and that which goes on around me.
Sure, I go through all the motions ; I sleep, I rise, I eat, I drive, I work, I make love...etc...
Sometimes I feel it is not me, but my life by someone else. I am a spectator.

Why do I continue to do what I know I shouldn't?

Smoke filled lungs. Alcohol drenched stomach membrane. Head blanketed in the fog of substance. This is the way of life for most. I do also, but it is not my excuse.
It is the way to cope I tell myself. As I have done for the last thirty odd years. But they are all odd- that is why I indulge- I do not need a reason.
Now do you understand? Don't get me wrong- it is not that I am asking for absolution or approval.
I am far beyond that. I am old enough to know better; but who knows best? Not father- he is beset with his own demons; or maybe he is his own. He is dead anyway and hopefully beyond caring. I am a father and I still know nothing.
Now, I am a blogger; my new addiction. Most of what I read online is crap. I feel like I'm in good company because of what I see we are all in trouble. Well, at least we are not alone; we'll all go down with the ship together while the orchestra plays waltza mitilda...

Soup vampire

Day 2, entry 2 Lunch in front of my computer.
Sitting here slurping won ton soup like a fruit bat to blood. I am amazed at my hunger. The won tons pop like blood vessels as I suck at the soup and chew its meaty contents. Then, after my ravenous frenzy is complete,
I stare down at the mess I have created on my desk and feel ashamed, then clean up leaving lno trace of my feast,
then back to work.

shallow first

I am an egg. Not yet born. Fragile, yet full of promise.