Showing posts with label Ebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ebook. Show all posts

Monday, March 23, 2015

The L Word

Ah my loves, my little loves we've been through this before. Love is not lust and lust is not love. Ms. M adores all of your eagerness for amore but you must not confuse things... Because you all are capable of love right now.

The definition of love in Buddhism is wanting others to be happy. It's odd to me that more people do not love when it's so simple. I love people but I do not care for unkindness. It pains my heart to depths of melancholy to see instances of cruelty. And it doesn't make you a bad person to behave unkindly. I'm human and on occasion I am unkind in response to difficult situations or unkindness. It doesn't make me mean. It demonstrates my desire to treat others in the manner they've mistreated me. Bottom line: I'm only mean if you're being mean to me... So guess what? This rule applies to everyone too. Try being kind & others will respond in kindness.

Why? Truly if we are capable of mistreating people, we are capable of loving them too. But first you must learn what it is to love. Until you learn to love yourself you will always seek love from an external source. And be at others hand for unkindness.

Being In romantic love...?? Hmm? I do not know how to start this but let's begin here:

Someone tells me “you write the most romantic things! the man that inspires you must be quite amazing.”

My reply to her: “I write about love. Love is perhaps personified. But when I start it is not centered upon a person. It is about actions & feelings more or less of habits of being in romantic love. It's unknown to me if it is about a specific person. But it is about love. A feeling that has yet to be.”

So... I am not in love although I have written lovely things. And yes I have wasted time on unkind men in the past. But currently I am not in romantic love. I will admit I have & have had feelings for someone and can do nothing to see them through still so I continue to live & meet people. C'est la vie!

So my loves, if you want love... you must be love, give love & accept love. Start by loving yourself, want happiness for yourself & others and life will love you in return. 

It's not so hard. Life is simple. People make it hard. 

Here's a story about desire & lust... from the ebook of the same name! It's in the amazon kindle store! Check it out if you like!

Kisses, m.

Between The Sheets
(May 2012)

In the fading darkness of night we've found a moment
We're between the sheets when he tells me to leave the 
lights on.

"I like it with the lights on" he says with a devilish grin.
It's both of us thinking the same thing but we know it's nothing.
There's a need that neither of us can run away from.
There's only a kiss to blame when it starts.

I'm telling him that "I want more" when his hands show me what he's got in mind.
It's hardly a secret between strangers anymore.
Louder than anything I'm telling him, showing him, begging for more.
He's pressing his hands in harder and whispering for me to tell him if I like it.
I like it and he lets his fingers go looking for my pleasure.
What seems to be unreal is waiting to become a reality.
It's in this moment I know there's no going back.
Slowly his kisses stop and he moves backwards.
Reclining, he sits partly on the soles of his feet, watching me spread out
I have an insatiable appetite for more but he rests.
Laughing at my hunger he tells me that "it's late."
So I slide myself upward until I'm against his body.
My hands reveal that I want this feeling to expand.
He shows that he wants more by pressing me back into the sheets.

The heat of his breath collides with my face.
Our tongues dance in the darkness of a kiss.
My hands and legs react with force to his kiss.
Within seconds I'm wrapped around him not wanting to let go.
In this moment he's all I need.
Each passing moment we're running toward release.
When it comes we're shaking in unison.
As daylight slowly emerges we're together between the

Monday, November 10, 2014

Nothing More Than Feelings

Feelings are what you make of them... meaning? They belong to you and you alone. When in love or hate... you can hope and wish that the other person feels them too but you can not count your life on it. You can only trust yourself. Feelings don't come and go like seasons. They are there or they are not. Yet... Fickle people are just that with feelings. Our emotions aren't ruled by the heavens. 

The stars and suns of astrology are fun to waste time with but if you truly rely on the stars to guide your life you are not dealing with reality. The fantasy of which sign is compatible might work in the book but it's not very methodical for life. I love my horoscopes! Mostly to prove them wrong. And I love the sun, stars and moon for they bless me with amazing light to shoot by. 

I will never understand how and why others make situations that have nothing to do with them solely about them but nonetheless I know the moon has nothing to do with being bad mannered. It's a lovely scapegoat for human nature but far from reality. The fantasy of believing you don't control yourself is nice, but it's just a myth. I know what I feel and I am in control of those emotions daily. My feelings are my own... when they have nothing to do with someone else, I suggest that person minds their own business. I don't interfere in others lives. I support, I encourage and give praise when I feel like it. I expect nothing in return. 

When I love and it is true, my feelings rely upon me not the man I love. Whether that person changes or leaves my life should not change how I feel about him. When you love, it is certain. Not waning with the tides... It doesn't come and go. You never stop loving someone. And sometimes I think you love them so much that you find a way to let go because you want their happiness even if you can't give it to them. 

Here's a 300 about missing and trying to reach a lover when you've been gone too long... it's published in my book On The Other Side. You can find on amazon & barnes & nobles for nook and kindle. 

Ever miss someone? Have you ever used a landline or listened to messages on an answering machine? 

Kisses, m. 

Been Trying 

Darling, you there? Pick up. Been trying to reach you for a while now. Just once it would be nice to catch you home instead of getting the machine. Talking like this has become a habit. Out on the road and nothing makes sense without your voice. Forgive me if the machine has 35 hang-ups before you get this message. It’s soothing to me. Your voice. That little lift in your tone brings me a sense of comfort in the busy day to day of this unnatural life. I could stand to hear it again and again. Small relief for a simple man. Actually I’m calling cause we passed through Ves Perti, Texas yesterday. Remember that place? Yeah, I was thinking about you all night. Our first trip out on the road and good ol Ves Perti, that four-way stop out in the middle of no where. That place was hardly an excuse for a town. That small diner next to the gas station is still standing. I found our table in the back with our initials carved into the wood. Dinner and dancing to the old jukebox while the boys in the band laughed us on. That seems so incredibly long ago. Damn. All I can think about is you. Missing you is unbearable. How about next trip out, you come along? For old times sake, come cheer me on. I know what you’ll say, but just think about it. Please? Look, I’ll try calling again before I leave town. Yeah, don’t worry I’ll check the message service and see if you left me anything. Please, keep leaving them. It’s a just a piece of paper, but all the same it’s comes from you. Love you darling. Have a good day. Oh, try not to miss me too much.

Friday, October 3, 2014


Smoke is fleeting... not the people connected by it. It's a wonder though. Some people treat others like they can use them and discard them. Then they believe that there are no consequences and can return without dealing with what they've done or how they've treated others. It's karmic. There's something attractive about a man that doesn't use people. You use cigars, cigarettes, plastic bags, paper towels and a myriad of other things... but you don't use people! There are consequences and I'll be honest: No you can't be friends with someone after you used them or they used you. If you've found that you are in this situation... Look, sometimes you have to realize that you fucked up and move on. It's a life lesson and don't repeat the mistake.

Well SMOKE... came out today on AMAZON which means I'm off of writing for a while again. I love going back to photography and design. I'm more myself and find my time submerged in writing is becoming less and less. You never really change as a person you simply evolve into what you always were meant to be. Got to let it happen sometimes. :)  

SMOKE may get a special edition soon to include images and the stories I had to leave out... Keep an eye out! And yes this doll did indeed celebrate this accomplishment with a cigar unfortunately without the man. Thankfully I'm sure the right guy's out there somewhere smoking a cigar too and perhaps just wasting time with the wrong women. Ha! This doll isn't worried, I don't have time to waste. Family & friends are the best support for any dream.

Anyhoo! Here's one about a guy that treated women as disposable. If you haven't dated one... consider yourself a lucky doll! 

Kisses, m. 


Ephraim Rybe was a man who knew that nothing lasts forever. Because of this knowledge he wasted no time with anything. Ephraim kept himself moving at a constant rate to take it all in. He firmly believed that if you stayed in one place too long you might miss what’s coming next. Moderately the world moved around while Ephraim sped through it. He felt that everyone and everything was a portion sized serving meant for consumption at the most appropriate time. Everything in its specific amount of time. No more. No less.

And he came to this understanding by a lesson life once handed him. A lesson that no one ever forgets. Ephraim had once been engaged to a lovely young woman. A beauty known throughout any and all of his circles. However, it was not to last. The young woman decidedly broke the agreement for their pending nuptials and left Ephraim moving on and on by wanting less and less.

Despite his unfulfilled destiny, Ephraim Rybe had been known to be quite the ladies man in certain circles. A many times confirmed bachelor he had a new gal pal on his arm every week. And it wasn’t for a lack of interest in the opposite sex that he continued in this manner. In fact it was Ephraim’s distinct fascination with women that kept his interest peaked consistently.


Some women will tell you they love a man with ambition. That it’s refreshing to meet a man that knows wants and wants more of it. Ephraim Rybe wasn’t that sort of man. He always wanted more but less and less of what was involved in that equation. He was never satisfied by one woman when he could have five, six, seven or eight. Tonya, Felicia, Amber, Tiffany, Renee, Sandy, Mae, Claire. There were so many more than he often kept a list. The list continued onward and grew by five more every time one name dropped off.

A man will tell you that his idea of a perfect woman might be the combination of some supermodels with a few characteristics of his mom. And Ephraim Rybe wasn’t one of those men. He didn’t believe in the existence of a perfect woman for him. The idea of some epitomized goddess seemed like complete horseshit when he had his list. Ephraim repeatedly thought why settle on one when there’s always the next girl to fill that void. At current he could decidedly pick from a few different girls to fulfill these needs that other men want in one.

If he wanted to bed a supermodels ass he could call Christine. When needing to talk about his feelings with a sensitive matron he could dine with Anna. For the eyes and lips of an angel came Claudia. An ideal woman mattered very little when he could have a single serving portion of variation whenever he wanted. And soon enough he would be rotating in another set. The changeover had become a necessary a change routine. Some women loose their charm the same way eating the same meal does. There wasn’t an exact science to it, only that they needed to go when they lost their flavor. And it was never the quite the same flaw.

Some had too much hair while others had too little. Some appeared tall while they were really short. Others had laughs like hyenas when others giggled in a way that sounded like a drowning puppy. It wasn’t that any of those things made then unattractive. It wasn’t that at all, it was only an excuse to move onto something else.

To ask this man what he wanted from these women would be meaningless. He wanted nothing in particular from any of these girls, only to make sure that there would always be one coming next. Beat the disposable woman to the plate. Leave her before she can leave you. And he had it down to a science. From the looks of any new woman he could tell you how long he’d spend time with her. Knowing full well how long he would take before he used her up. Ephraim didn’t care if a woman knew she was getting the boot. He figured he was gifting her with some knowledge. In a sort of sick way he thought he was sparing a woman the trouble of getting attached when things were already over.


Onto the next one. And without much to it, I just so happened to be next. The next on his list. I happen to have had my fair share of experience dating men with eccentricities.  Although none of which included beating someone to the punch of heartbreak. To be perfectly honest, “no” wasn’t an option with Ephraim. Ephraim pressed and pursued very insistent that I be at the top of his agenda. When Ephraim told me that our involvement would last exactly two dates and a few rolls in the sack, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. So I laughed even though Ephraim seemed quite serious. But I went along with it.

Going with the ride longer than he said. Long enough to know about the others which soon revealed more than I needed to know about the situation. You see there are some men who will tell you that they’re seeing other people. While others will lie about it. And then some want to pretend that there’s nothing before you happened to them because its taboo. Ephraim wasn’t at all like that. He kept things as real as possible. Too much real as a matter of fact. He nodded and smiled when he said there were others. It wasn’t news to me, but I could hardly contain what it all meant until he explained.

On an interesting cab ride back to his place, Ephraim took the time, that he never takes to explain about the others. Others that shouldn’t have been mentioned but needed to be explained once they had. And I insisted on knowing and encouraging. A curiosity that couldn’t be quenched once he’d mentioned it.
Something that I didn’t need to know as it never left my mind. The thought of being disposable and simply replaceable seemed to overwhelm my mind with thoughts that didn’t matter. The openness of his confession put him at ease and sent me wondering. I was consumed by the growing thought that nothing I did mattered in the slightest as he was already three deep into his next list of women.

The last night while he leaned in to kiss my neck, I sat thinking about Ephraim talk about the next one, Shelly or Sheila before telling me about Olga the dancer he had met after lunch with Hera. Somewhere between lunch and dinner, he’d been making arrangements with another woman and all I’d been doing was deciding what shoes matched with my new dress. My attention to him was disposable. It had simply been a choice of who to take home tonight.

Where did I fit on this uninvolved man’s list of disposable creatures? Not that it mattered in the slightest. His hands between my thighs mattered in the least. They mattered as much as which number of choice my Spinach salad ala carte with raspberry vinaigrette had been from dinner.

Ephraim wasted no time moving downward with his focus. Already thinking ahead, quickly his kisses found their way to my legs and I let him keep moving inward to work. It wouldn’t be long before it was over and I was merely someone else. And the more and more he pressed into things, the more I wondered about his list of women.

Even when Ephraim was moving his mouth in a rhythm all his own inside of me, I kept wondering the same thing: Would he be doing this dance with the dancer tomorrow night or the next. To Ephraim this was practice and preparation for the next act, with Olga, Hera, Shelly or someone else. When it became clear to me that I was no one’s trial run, I would get what I came for and leave him with none.

Closer and closer until the moment of release comes and goes. His arms find themselves around my waist when I say “Thank you, that was amazing. I’m done” and sweetly pat his face. His eyes look with alarm and his heart starts to race. Ephraim says “it’s my turn?” with the serious stare. His lips trembling waiting for something else when I tell him “there’s none.” So I tell him “I really have to go but I’ll get you later. Maybe next time. You understand?” and watch his thoughts crawl inside his head. I wait for something, anything to be said. When there is nothing I tell him “thank you again for understanding. I’m sure you can make other plans. After all you have Olga, Hera or Shelly.”  What more could a man need? And with that thought I left that impermanent man with his list of disposable women.

While Ephraim Rybe was too busy worrying about missing what would happen next he completely missed it without a thought of permanence because he couldn’t understand the meaning of disposable when it looked him back in the face.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


SMOKE officially comes out Friday but hopefully it will up be by today or tomorrow afternoon/evening for you to buy!  I'm very lucky and blessed to be able to publish these small books for those who still ask me too. I know it's a small thing without money, accolades or fame but I appreciate even the tiniest of support. Here's another from the book...

Kisses, m.


Clay Mask.
She wears a mask everyday.
Yet today I come home to see
The emotional wreck of my wife.
She's been smoking & having a martini.
I know she's not happy.

She's been reclining in my easy chair.
Tears have spilled down the clay mask.
It's a moment when she's been herself without a mask to hide or hold them back.

Even after she wakes up and washes off the clay, 
She'll wear a mask that hides her. 
It has a smile.
A laugh. 
Lines of wear. 
But she'll still put it on. 
That invisible mask.
Like a dress.
Her favorite dress.
And she's grown used to it.

The Mask is nothing like her.
Yet it's for my benefit.
I just want my wife to be happy.
I think she likes pretending to be, 
Even though she's bad at it.
It makes her happy
So I let her wear the mask.

Quietly I watch her rest. 
I wish she'd stop being so strong & let me care for her.
Gently I remove the cigarette and place it in the ashtray.
Take a sip out of her drink.
I can recall how this emotional creature used to set my heart spinning.
I know I can't catch her like this. 
I will have to give her time to wake up. 

I wait calmly & watch her breathe. 
One more look before I walk out of the room. 
This private vulnerable moment was not for my prying eyes.
Yet she takes my breath away in her present state.
I wish she'd tell me what's wrong.

Instead, I sigh then turn & walk out.
Slamming the door behind me. 
Ten steps out the stoop, return jingling keys and fumbling with locks.
Knowing she's inside scrambling
To put herself back into the...


Sunday, September 28, 2014

The Ballerinas

 Jesse Gerstein Photography

Photographing the Ballet & Ballerinas has easily become one of my favorite things to shoot. Hahaha... You flatter me with your messages! While I didn't shoot this image, I have been working on a performance series and so far the ballet has been really fun. You can see a thousand different photo's of ballerina's but not one will be the same. You can imitate something but you can never truly duplicate the moment or impulse of the person behind it. Here's another from SMOKE from the perspective of one of the lovers... Have you figured out all the characters? It comes out on Amazon this week!

Kisses, m. 

The Ballerinas

Three ballet dancers stand before me.
One step two step

I reset the shutter and look through the lens.
I need less than a handful of moments.
Between heads and tails there’ll be no more
I’ve lost the fight.

Fighting with an editor
Teaches you nothing about photography.
He tells me I’m a beautiful dame and not bother with photos at all.
I nod when he talks and shake my head when I leave.
All I’ll need is three.

Three minutes pass as they pose.
Carefully with care and grace.
My camera is the loudest sound.

Until a. strike of the match
fills the space behind me with smoke.
Enters my lungs.
Shutter releases.
I spin around as the ballerinas continue their dance.

Dancing in my mind when I’m in the darkroom.
Finn tells me to keep after it.
I smile when he looks at my negatives upside down.
I know he prefers that I’m happy.
I’m happiest with the photos and him.

The ballerinas rise and fall with the movements of swan-like perfection.
I bum a smoke from the stranger and let the moment exist.
One breathe, two breathes,

He is an older dancer with a click in his hip.
Watching the three ballerinas,
He says that life is like a dance.
Rises and falls,
Graceful while clumsy.
Takes strength to follow through.

Following through with the negatives,
Finn tells me “it’s a shame they only wanted three.”
It’s his way of encouraging me
All I want to do is encourage him.
Enjoy a moment with him smoking in his chair.
Watching the smoke escape his mouth,
Run around his head.
Leading me to his kiss.

Three kisses.
Airy and light.
Three ballerinas lips find their places on each other’s cheeks. 
Celebrating the moment.

One, Two… Three.

Saturday, September 27, 2014


The first time you see something isn't always the way you think or where you think... Perhaps you've seen it before for the first time elsewhere. Vertical Film Strips are kind of unique, not uncommon and absolutely stunning installed. Yes! They're pretty neat to look at and some people love to decorate their homes with prints of them! I can think of a few design clients homes I've helped acquire filmstill prints for in the past. They are beautiful! It's very exciting to see them! Here's another piece from SMOKE! Comes out next week... 

Have you ever seen vertical film print strips? Do you remember where first? 


The first time I saw her she was vertical
Head tilted back laughing while smoking a cigarette.
The lines in her mouth turned into a smile when she looked my way.

It wasn’t the first time we’d laid eyes on each other
But it was the first time I noticed how much I loved her laugh
And the imprint of her stayed with me.

Tonight, again I’m vertical.
Looking at her
As the crowd parts,
I can’t help but smile.
I’m not sure why she’s looking at a guy like me.
I don’t want her to stop.
But she does.

Turning her head.
I know what she wants.
She wants me to come to her.
So I do.
Walk over.
Find my place by her.

I try to talk to her.
Interrupt what’s she’s saying.
I think I’m always interrupting her.
She always tells me I’m not.
Blowing a puff of smoke at me
There’s a hint of nostalgia in her playfulness.

The first time she was smoking a French cigarette
Toying with it in her mouth.
Up down and around.
Making me laugh.
Asking me how I’m doing.
I just talked.
I’m sure it was fine, because she laughed and asked more.

Tonight she’s just reaching out at my arm.
A puff of smoke as she grabs at my hands.
Pulling me down.
Looking into my eyes.
Hinting for a kiss.
I don’t ever want her to stop looking so I concede a kiss.

It’s not enough and she looks away.
Every time she does my heart pulls back and into my chest.
The pressure is unbearable.
The thought of losing that look entices me to sit.
But I don’t.
I tease her with the thought of leaving.
My hands move to untangle from her grip.
She releases smoke at me without a smile.

I know this game is for keeps.
Playing to win.
If win, I get her hand.
She wins and gets mine.
Bend to her will or let go.

Finally removing her fingers from mine
Results in the pout of her lip.
A small reminder that she’s not happy with my actions,
But will proceed.

And proceed she does
With a stroke of my leg.
My hips lean forward.
A physiological impulse that reminds me
To get control.

Unprepared for the reaction of my own body
I edge back until she’s reaching for me and…