Ten

Do you smoke? It's a deadly thing. But it's your choice... You could have ten years of living and celebrating or ten years of killing yourself? Here's another from SMOKE! Preorder it on amazon! Out Oct 4th!

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Ten

Today marks our tenth.

Ten years. 

Ten days. 

Ten hours.

Ten.

For the last 10 minutes I've watched her waiting.

Nervous.

10 minutes each of her 10 fingers and 10 toes have twitched with matching red polish.  

10 breaths before I catch one. Up down. Up down. 

Excitement.

10 heaves match timelines in her face. The tension matches wisdom lines stolen from her youthful grace.

In ten minutes we're boarding a different plane at the airport to our final destination.

Ten 10 minutes again I'll ask if I can bum a smoke. 

10 minutes from now she'll say come on.  10 minutes from now they'll wrap up & let us board. 

10 days from now we'll still have each other and be married again.

10 years we were together I can remember the first smoke that we shared I can remember the first time it blew in her face she coughed but still smiled.

10 years ago when I bummed that first cigarette that we shared together.

10 years I can remember the conversation.

10 years ago I was the reason that she never got on the plane to Paris.

10 years ago she quit smoking.

But she never quit on me.

10 beautiful years filled with two beautiful children separated by two years born 10 days apart one beautiful house 10 years and they're the most amazing wonders I know.

10 hours I've sat by her in this seat on the plane. 

10 hours she held my hand.

In 10 minutes they're going to tell us its time to descend. 

I have 10 minutes to show her my love. 10 hours hiding a ring while adoring this extraordinary creature. I catch my breath when I realize I'm going to ask my wife to spend another 10 years with me. 

Superstition

Do you believe in superstition? Barbie makes her own lore and believes in a bit of the earth's lore. Buddhism and balancing energy works for this doll and she encourages others to believe what they want. Why? My way is right for me. I don't know what works for you but I do know this: a naysayer criticizing your beliefs & telling you differently isn't right either. Make your own way.

Here's another from SMOKE! And to answer someone... no I'm not in character to write these. There's nothing personal about SMOKE. It's interesting what people will believe when they allow others to convince them. Ha. Believe and trust yourself... People who don't really know you and don't take care of your business, lovelife or health when you are down, you know what... Fuck em. Believing a stranger is giving them the tools to run your life. Trust & love yourself.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m

Superstition

Smoke is simply smoke. Transitory. There's no superstition in it. Love is within you and you can avoid it. Avoid it by dressing yourself up and wearing love like an invisible dress paired with bad wig or you can simply just be yourself. But you'll never be yourself. You're just a pale comparison of the real thing. A common whore no better than the black cat combing the streets in heat. At least the cat is still itself. You're nothing wearing nothing and hiding everything. Drag. Take another drag baby. Choke on your tears while you walk the streets afraid of the one thing you say you crave the most. Love.

So afraid of love and your need to follow a path. You run from every man who ever loved you. So cruel with your words. The most violent of lies injure your spirit. 

Superstitious. Heartless. Vile creature.

Take off your wig. Bare your soul not your body. Find your dignity. You can't keep doing that to yourself.

One day love will find you. And you will be ruined. Your deception and self hate will no longer be veils you can hide behind when someone you truly love destroys your heart. Stop. Before love ruins you. Love should be a savior. Be it. Follow it. Be superstitious of it. Create new a tradition.

Put away that bad wig and invisible dress. Begin to love. Learn to walk with love instead of carrying the shame of not even loving yourself.

Just another drag from another cigarette. Another man just as disposable as the cig. He matches the color of your fake dress and hair. 

Another day and you'll find another stray. Any one that crosses your path makes the cut. 

Maybe this one will be different.

Lucky smoke is simply smoke.

Superstition...

Bubble Gum

Do you like Bubble Gum? It's Damn Tasty isn't it!? Also hides a smoker's breath...

Another 300 from SMOKE! Preorder it on Amazon!

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Bubble Gum

Bubble gum.

Damn tasty.

Sweet. 

Pink.

Gently grazes his mouth against my cheek.

The taste of his tongue

Reminds me of a memory.

The sugary sweet mixed with the smoke from his cigarette wrapped in a kiss.

Bubble gum. 

The little girls with their bad wigs and grown up dresses blow a bubble.

As they quickly hide they their cigarettes with a pop of pink.

Blow a gentle bubble.

Leave a hint on the lips.

Wash and clean the taste of smoke

From their false immoral smile.

Bubble gum.

He opens my mouth and places a piece on my tongue.

Watching me distracted by the sadness of youth gone too quick

He kisses my forehead and holds me close.

The taste of the bubble gum isn't the same sweet as his kiss. 

With a quick look he knows what I want.

Bubble gum.

Little girls still are chewing but they're smacking their lips and smoking. 

Instead of blowing a bubble 

They're choking on smoke.

Aging quickly. 

Innocence gone too soon.

Bubble gum. 

His tongue in my mouth.

Hints of tobacco and substitute sugar 

Taste like heaven on my tongue.

Dancing in the cool air my hair presses against his cheek.

Once again I'm filled with his taste.

Bubble gum. 

Between the girls pretending to be grown.

Spurting it out and trading it for smokes.

Little girls, they should not linger in the dead grass.

They are filled with purity

And a joyful spirit. 

Return to innocence.

No more bad hair and cigarettes.

Plenty of time for the grown world.

Bubble gum. 

My bubble pushes against his lips.

Cherry sweet pink goodness.

Let him taste my mouth.

A damn sweetness that sends him reaching for more.

He's touching my neck, my face and dropping his cigarettes to the floor.

Bubble gum.

Innocence Lost

Innocence is never lost unless you let yourself lose it... Love yourself more!

Here's another from SMOKE... are you excited for the ebook? I am. Presales are coming!

Enjoy!

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.

Stay…

Check your cash and take a drag.

What I can tell you? I'm Happy!

It's all love with a hint of jealousy in the air these days along with the smoke. I personally love to see the love and ignore the jealousy of others! Love, it's amazing! Especially when it's the last person you thought would ever jump in. Lots and lots of blowing smoke. Smoke... why smoke. I couldn't tell you. In buddhism it is a very bad self-harm behavior... but yet I love a cuban cigar!

What I can tell you? I'm happy and I can tell you that none of the stories in SMOKE are about any one person in particular and they can't be. I am not doing this the same as my earlier work. Much like the 'D' series it is a dedication filled with pieces and parts of living moments, real and fiction. Nothing I wrote in the series was about 'D' per se and he was amazed and overjoyed how much I created after we parted.

So for Smoke... I simply stole a quirk, a really bad habit from someone for the idea of the series. Yes they upset me professionally and on a bit of the personal level too. It breaks your heart but... You see a lack of support from someone in your life or work isn't on the level but you forgive and move on. My favorite people and I are mutually supportive. When someone stabs me in the back I keep the knife so its needless to say I took the unkindness badly but instead of holding a grudge or seeking revenge I forgave then stole a quirk.  

So I've been in the biz for photo and writing work for a while now on the solo tip and it's a challenge. And yes 'Oh how the jealously' does persist.... I could never burn anyone personally or professionally with rumors, that would be blasphemy so kisses loves! Be kind to each other. I'm not jealous, I love to see other people succeed. And I'm overjoyed when others appreciate my work. It does not go unnoticed. 

Sorry I don't make a production or single some people out more than I already do. So sorry if I have overdone it. Tell me! :( I've typically got a good barometer on shy people since I am one. I really am. It's all bravado most days. Weird huh? So please know that I really get it! Oh please try to be gracious and appreciative, I try to be even though I'm shy too. Photogs love it when you love their photos. So please be kind and realize that it takes courage to share my work too. There are better artists than I. Ok?! Kisses! :) 

Here's a new one from SMOKE that I wrote at a writer's workshop a few weeks back... Best thing ever about workshop's or circles is actually meeting other writers. On this occasion I met new writers, mostly poets and a non-poet whose work I would like to read now but I think I'll bug one of my favorite Ken's for a link... Cause I'm certain I acted like a fool because "real" writers are the only one's that truly get the fiction thing along with the drinking like Hemingway thing. So I tend to get excited and fall on myself when I meet one and bond... Male or female makes no difference. It's awkward. Oh well... Such a spaz! Lol!

Enjoy!
Kisses, m.


Happy

Happiness is my heart. In a small moment I’m alone in a crowded room. Surrounded by the love and happiness of the souls around me. The warmth that fills my soul expands and contracts with my thoughts. The essence of the trees shifts with the wind.

Slowly the switch of the light changes the mood of crowd. A man flicks his cigarette and I’m lost in the sea. I can smell this morning in the puff of smoke that carries across the sea of faces. I can see his face in the dusk cascading off the white wall. His eyes smile. I wish this moment was the present. But it’s not. It’s a memory where I know he’s sitting across from me. I’m happy thinking of him. But I know I need to return to the present.

Presents are spilling out her bag as she walks up. I love the way she wears her hair in a bandana. The instant I see her messy curls spilling out and bouncing in the wind. I think of the hints of color in his hair, her black highlighted curls and I’m spinning backwards into his smile.  I’m involved in this self-centered thought where he’s watching me quietly. But he’s not here.

Here the warmth of the day surrounding me like a lover’s absent hug and I’m imagining the touch that matches his smile. Returning from my thoughts I watch a couple across the room giggling coo’s of tenderness.

Tenderness in their touch sends me aching into a memory anticipating what could come. I’m struggling for the present moment when all I can think of is the future and the past in my mind’s eye. When I stop to breathe I think of the electricity in those eyes.

Damn those electric eyes. 

I’m happy.

Cherry

There's nothing provocative about a child smoking or pretending to be a seductive adult... Ask any father if that's what he wants for his daughter. Especially when it's nothing new. It's really a sad reminder that times haven't changed and neither have people.

Here's a new 300 from my next ebook SMOKE... It should be out in October! I'm so excited! Presales will be available in September! Have you bought or read any of my other ebooks?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Cherry

Smell of smoke.

Hint of red.

Taste of cherry

Words that are misled.

She's younger than you.

Smaller and weaker you think.

Looks can deceive.

Smarter and more cunning than sweet.

Innocence lost.

Too soon to be grown 

Too old to be ignorant.

A Harlot in a school girls dress.

She's a Vixen in youth.

A threat with cigarettes.

A puff of smoke releases toward her intended.

Coyly she smiles and licks her lips clean of the smoke.

Pursuing a married man she should forget.

She holds her cigarette far too maturely.

As she stares emptily he realizes their difference in age.

More than half his age.

A woman wouldn't stare at him the same.

He's merely ...

A conquest. 

A trophy. 

A notch.

He's just another game to this cunning creature. 

A daddy for the taking.

A sucker instead of a winner.

Ready for the sacrificing.

Another puff of smoke graces the air. Her older sisters cheer on.

Pressing and pushing the smaller one to act.

Promiscuity in training wearing her pigtails too loose.

It's more sad than provocative.

A pity she can't feel his disgust.

Sexy can't even describe her innocent frame.

Placid and smooth are her full eyes.

Tiny and frail arms that empty into small legs.

He watches and wonders if he'll get caught for returning her curious glimpse.

Less intrigued by the young unprovocative child.

He feels concern for her life.

The thought of Lolita sliding on a man's lap presses his mind to change.

To quickly look away.

Empathize a deep sorrow for the child and her lack of self love.

Turning away he finds a pair familiar eyes.

Welcome the reminder that his wife is still there. 

Smell of smoke breezes out of sight as the child looses her mark for the night.

Calm

Are you calm when watching your boyfriend talk to another woman? I'm pretty secure with myself and do not feel threatened by other women. Some girls are not... It's fun to watch. And yes I will keep my distance from kens with jealous girl or lady "friends" or etc. And no dolls don't try to friend me because you're jealous. I offer my friendship out of sincerity to other women. Here's another 300 that's newer... from the jealous perspective.  I'm sorry I have to keep my distance from my favorite Kens sometimes. But jealous girls are adversarial! Especially when you find their intended attractive. It's hard knowing handsome men sometimes. ;)

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Calm

calm

his lips curl into a smile

he says nothing

I’m calm

Alone and reflecting

The scent of his skin remains in my mind

When he’s away

a moment of closeness between us

races my heart

but I appear calm

look at the sky

look at the ground

hold the breath before I release the smoke

there’s nothing like his touch

words I can’t find the courage to say

I fake my calm

Inhale and exhale

Building my bravery

But he doesn’t notice

reclining back he takes a drag of a cig

I want to ask for one but don’t

Stay calm

I don’t know that I look

into anyone’s face

the way I look into his

Electric eyes they make my pulse speed

He smiles when I stare too long

Be calm.

Words he says drift away quiet

The stillness of his stare wanders

My forehead then my hair

he pushes away from my touch

he looks away at another's face

I behave calm.

There's only din in my mind

Fury in my hands

He dismisses me

Smile when he’s looking

Smoke a quick cig when I’m alone

Pretend to be calm

It’s not my age

I’m old enough yet.

A girl and yet a woman

He wants to be with her

Older, sophisticated 

I’m anything but calm

She’s everything to me

A version of life

I’ll never be

He smiles and waves at her

She looks happy to see him

Calm down

He leaves me to talk to her

Their words overlap

Few but enough

I want to rip out her brown hair

Her smile matches his face

Calmness evades me

She’s letting him go

I’m watching her stand alone

Smiles looked intimate

Her voice is quiet but she watches him

Never going over to press futher

Calm