Showing posts with label smoke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label smoke. Show all posts

Monday, September 17, 2018


"We have no reason to mistrust our world [mind], for it is not against us. Has it terrors, they are our terrors; has it abysses, these abysses belong to us; if there are dangers at hand, we must try to love them. . . . we must hold to the difficult, then that which now still seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful. . . . Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us" - Rainer Maria Rilke

There’s seldom room for fear or doubt in my life... I’m very blessed & grateful for all that I have and feel for anyone that struggles with paralyzing fears and doubt. Especially when someone tries to force them into action.  Forcing anyone is often counterproductive. Having a little faith and letting your love guide your hand goes much further in helping others. Just because you know what's best doesn't mean it's the best way.

Buddhism sees doubt as a hindrance of the mind. It’s the loss of faith and self-love that fuels fear and doubt. Often people self-medicate instead of dealing with their bullshit. Makes them push people away because they're afraid of what the future holds. It leaves them feeling they’ve failed those who care after they push them away. Self doubt often paralyzes one with fear of failure which erodes away at their self-confidence. No, the meditation stuff doesn't always work and can be more damaging when it doesn't. Once doubt has a hold of the mind, it's very hard to break it's grip. But, much like smoke, it's not there. To shake it's grip you have to realize that you must face some truths about how things really are and not how you believe they are. 

When I am sick and not feeling well, I let my body rest and seek to heal the physical symptoms. Much like a physical illness, doubt plagues the mind. It's important to realize that these fear and doubts about the future won't go away on their own but also to know that anyone dealing with them can still enjoy the wonders of life by remaining present. There is no reason to mistrust your mind, it's not against you. The doubt is, in a sense, the mind's way of trying to protect something from happening out of fear. 

Do your fears and doubt paralyze you? Don't doubt or fear the unknown. And don't let anyone make you question your confidence. You know what you're afraid of and how to overcome. Have faith, and if you can't, I have a little to spare for anyone that needs it. 

Here's one from Smoke that I never posted... you can find the book on Amazon. 


Slowly I part her lips with mine.
Quietly she breathes into my mouth.
I’m overwhelmed with emotion.

Holding it back.
Keeping my inner feelings
Under control as she reaches up and around my neck.

Slow and easy
She steps in and out of sync with me.
Carefully we tease each other with an almost kiss.

Surrounded by smoke in the back room of this bar
We playfully miss each other.
Simply looking at the fine patrons of this establishment
Reminds me that it’s not a place we should be.
No where I should’ve brought her.
But we’re here.
Waiting for a patient.

A woman who won’t tell me her given name,
But she’ll tell me to call her Babe.
A babe in a bit of trouble;
Something I don’t want for my Ava.
In these dark hours of night.

We continue to grope and insist while waiting in the back.
I don’t think that this woman is showing when my girl
Plays with my hair.
The short hair beneath my neck.
Curling it between her fingers.

I hear a shotgun in the alley.
It snaps me present.
I grab my gal by the waist.
My heart quickens.
Attentive and steady she works my neckline over.
I’m afraid what could come.

Asking if she’s fine
Gets me a sigh and a kiss on my chin.
Smiling she looks into my eyes and I know.
Knowing that there’s nothing like smile comforts me again.
She feels safe and trusts me.

I’m leaning in for a kiss and she pulls away with a laugh.
The bar empties out and it feels like we are alone.
Alone with her almost kiss.
The potential of our union intermixes with the smoke in the room.
Calm and hungry;
She makes a move at me very…


Monday, September 10, 2018


A lot can happen in a month... a habit can be formed or broken in a month. Something I’ve learned over the years is that people ultimately stay who they are always. People don’t change who they are.  Not unless they want to or something scary-fucked up happens to them & forces them into it. Social media isn’t an excuse of any kind for anything including judging others. Sometimes it’s the most immature person calling everyone else little children on social media, who doesn’t want to grow up. Pay attention. Hypocrisy isn’t a good color on anyone. 

For moi, I call others by their names instead of labels and respect their boundaries when they want space and patience. My hands are always there to take a hold of when someone needs it. Loving & holding space for others is the easiest thing when you realize its not about you. 

Here’s one from Smoke... May you all find peace, balance and the time for it all including the things you wish to change. Change starts within and has nothing to do with others, even on social media, no matter how much you judge them.

Do you blow smoke? 
Kisses, m.

Innocence Lost

Innocence Lost. 
Or is it just your mind you’ve lost.
No one can take what you don’t use. 
You have the choice to take it back.

When you were only a child
You lost it. 
That thing that makes you want something else.
It’s 8:15 am and you decide to change your name.

You’re dressed up like a train wreck. 
You don’t want a cigarette. 
Claim you don’t even smoke. 
But you check your purse for cash.

In the middle of the road 
Just like another victim
You brought a friend and she’s got you wearing that bad look again.

Take a drag. 
No one can take it for you. 
Just another smoker.
Claims she’s lost. 

Lost without the last him 
Until you remember he’ll take a swing. 
You got the choice to stay
You take a drag instead
And leave 

Your friend is bringing a pack of Indians by
She wants you to wear that bad hair and kiss another man. 
He may as well be a John. 
You don’t love him. 
Don’t even want to. 

Middle of the road with your bad hair and bad lipstick. 
Your innocence is never lost. 
A cough precedes your drag.

Lost in the smoke remembering what he felt like on top of you. 
His new smell, grunts and it’s the only affection you know. 
You don’t have to do it but the weight,
The stranger’s body, makes you feel whole. 
Comforted by the feeling of physical touch. 

It’s a shame the way you hid behind the fake blonde hair
Pretending to be something you are not.
It’s a shame that they never see you.
Because you’re so busy avoiding yourself. 

Innocence remains beneath the layers of disillusion. 
You’re not lost. 
Don’t even want to be. 
Check your cash and take a drag. 

Monday, June 19, 2017



When youre completely vulnerable and authentic things can be very warm with others... sometimes it's so cold you need a fur coat. Here's an old one from Smoke about the pleasurable perfection of being completely open and honest with your intentions.

Do you stay open or need to close yourself off?  Why? 

Kisses, m.


A single cigarette.

It's my idea of perfect. 
Waiting to give him pleasure.
After a long day he's wasted more time.

Time & minutes I can count as the cigarette ashes fall to the ground.
Silently I listen to the sound of smoke.
Filling the air.
Touching my bare skin.
Goose flesh.
Hard nipples. 
Nothing like being bare waiting for his touch.
Fur coat.
No need.
I'm taking it off. 

Taking it all off for his pleasure. 
The cool air dances across my skin.
I watch the infrared glow of the lights in the darkroom.
I've left the door ajar.
Carried away thinking of him.
Film can wait for developing.
The flavor in my mouth can't wait.
Tasting him with his favorite smoke in my mouth.
Thinking of his hands running across my ass makes me wonder how long I've been waiting.

When I think I've been waiting far too long. 
I know it's not long enough. 
The clock is still ticking up to six.
Tick. Tock.
Hips rock.
Legs shake.
Can't wait.

So I sit.
The seat of his chair is cool.
Soft to the touch of my legs.
Take a drag.
And rest.
Just my smoke.

Leaning back I think of his smile.
That dirty grin that lets me know he's in.
He's in. 
Deep in my mind.
Just watching for me to react.
I can't help but react.
Wanting the one thing that makes my heart jump. 

His fingers touching my bare skin. 
Sliding them gently up my legs until they reach my ass and spine. 
Once he circles my breasts I remind him with my mouth that the pleasure is all mine. 
All mine to please him. 

Pleasing him with my hands across his waist. 
My lips trailing across his neckline. 
Removing his clothes to nurture his tired body
Letting my hands wander downward along his chest until they find home.
My free hand is already occupied thinking and wanting his body.

Outside movements stir and shake my mind back to now.
My body knows. 

The sound of the key in the door
Sends shivers up my spine.
A quiver in my lip.
I hold back from running over to greet him.
Wait for that grin.
The sheer pleasure of watching him walk into the room and look at me with his hair slightly covering his face...


Photo Credit: Ben Hassett

Monday, March 2, 2015


Outside... Oh I get out here & there. Spent the last few days outside after spending nearly a week with my legs propped up healing. Fun times! But the real question is do you ever get outside of yourself? Very few people do. They go for what's always easy instead of stepping outside of themselves to try feeling something new.

Here's a 400 from last fall about getting outside of yourself... 

Do you get outside of yourself?

Kisses, m.


I'm so very emotionally interwoven.
Mentally craving the unknown.
Wanting the connection of his kiss.
Magical, the energy of him dances in front of me.
Teasing me with a look. 
A smile.

Close enough to taste the smoke but he stops.
Running his fingers between my fingers.
Innocently whispering in my ear.

I can't stop looking in those eyes.
I'm in heaven when he stares.
Comforted by them and longing for more.
It's too far when he's standing front of me.
But he's enjoying the wait.

Testing my patience that hangs by a breath.
A breathe that takes in his emotions.
Closer until that magical kiss misses
And doesn't connect.

He relishes in this game. 
Knowing that I do too.
We like to watch the other 
As we're circling inward.

More intimate than ever we are face to face.
I'm touching him while the swallowing the smoke.
In his space, moving toward his face.
Climbing up his neck with my free fingers.
Trying to harness this connection.
Hold it steady.
Keep it safe. 

My hands harness him completely. 
But I want more.
Letting him move in.
On the brink of ecstatic 
When he slides his arm around my back.
Pulling me closer.
Giving me another taste of his breathe.

Smoke that leads the way of intention.
A promise of a kiss. 
Magical energy ready to be shared.
Vibrating beneath the skin my blood pumps fiercely, 
Fastly with passion.

The passion in electricity shocks.
And those shocking eyes send volts up my spine.
I signal for no words.
I could read his mind through his actions.

Breathe, touch and taste
Are showing me more than words.
Words are meaningless. 
Useless vowels can't compete with his hand caressing my face.
Lips tracing the skin on my neck 
As the smoke climbs up and up around us.

But there's only intention.
Anticipation of more.
Tension mounting in my grip.
But I don't concede.
I lean in to pull him closer.

Up close and personal but oh so far. 
I don't know my own patience
When I slide my fingers out of his and around his back.
I pull him nearer to me. 
Taste the smoke and kiss his cheek.

My tease causes a turn. 
He pulls me back
Kissing me hard.
I feel the magic as his heart beats against mine fast.

Without a thought he's become...

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...