The first time I held an acoustic guitar I was probably 13 years old. My father had borrowed a guitar from his friend so he could see if he really wanted to try to learn how to play. I remember the guitar sitting in the corner of the living room for two weeks. I don’t even really remember my father picking the guitar up but I’m sure he did because he was trying to learn the Marty Robin’s song Streets of Laredo. I think he got frustrated and just quit trying.

What I distinctly remember though is feeling drawn to that guitar. Nancy Wilson of Heart was and still is my guitar hero. The first time I heard the Dog & Butterfly album – particularly the song Dog & Butterfly, I knew I wanted to play the guitar.

One day, in direct defiance of my father’s instructions to leave the guitar alone, "It’s not a toy" he’d say, I picked up that guitar and started trying to figure out the song which had frustrated my father into submission. My father wasn’t used to failure. He dropped out of high school in the 9th grade, lied about his age and joined the Air Force long before I was born. When he got out, he worked at a steel manufacturing company, and worked his way up and eventually started his own business which to this day is very successful. How my father let this piece of wood and steel get the best of him is still a mystery to me.

(more…)

I had planned to take my time
To savor every sensation
To will myself into a hyper state of awareness
I wanted to remember every touch
Every taste
Every breath
Every beat of your heart

The door opens and all thoughts escape
Like the breath I held awaiting your arrival
The vision before me too much
Too powerful to feign nonchalance
My vision a blur of movement
As I touch you with my eyes
From every curl
To every curve
Waiting has never held such worth

In a wave of desire too strong to resist
You are in my arms
You are in my senses
You are in my blood
Every touch a warm shot of electricity
I am dizzy and unsteady under your pull
Torture has never been so deliciously sweet

7/18/08
 

Are you vulnerable in the peaceful quiet of your slumber?
Where does your mind go when it is still from the stresses of your day?
Do you dream in color?
Do you remember your dreams?
To see you lying there,
Eyes closed, relaxed and unguarded
In all your exposed beauty
Would be like looking at the sun too long.
Eyes closed, that vision would be all I could see
 
Wait. Yes, this is a lovely thought.
 
Sleep. Rest your hiding mighty heart,
Weary from holding your soul earthbound,
The weight of responsibility holds you like gravity
Rest your sentry standing poised to strike.
Close your eyes and slip away.
Let the calm take you like a lover
Quietly, soothing you into submission.
Sleep well beautiful one.
But wake soon.
The colors on my canvas
Are always more vibrant when you are in the painting
The textures more interesting
The strokes more titillating
Yes, sleep well angel full of fire
And wake to a brighter day
 

Tue 1/8/2008
- For O

You have awakened my dreams again
Blissfully ignorant of reality
Passion filled visions of you arouse my senses
I am helpless against your sway
Captivated by your presence
Lingering between gentle slumber
And supple thighs
Awake?
Asleep?
It matters not

Gentle kiss ignites the flame
Tongues dancing, dueling for control
Your lips are soft, moist and welcoming
Inviting me to explore further

Tension building
Sultry eyes glazed from hunger
I want you to beg
Could I make you beg?

You move against me
Into me
Around me
Above me
I move inside you
Savoring the slow deliberate caresses
Devouring every inch of flesh my tongue discovers
You have mastered the tease
Taunting me with retreating full lips
Baiting me with perfect breasts
Awake
I am definitely awake

Sweet ache of longing
Craving
Wanting
Desire pulsing through my body
Driving me
Enticing me
Compelling me forward
Urging me deeper
Salaciously moving to the erotic rhythm of your breathing
You rise to meet my curious tongue

I bathe in your pleasure
Bask in the sweet pain of your delight
As eager nails engrave my fiery flesh
Blindly tracing the curve of your hips
Abandoning all remaining self control
I am a prisoner to all you stir inside of me
And yet I have never felt so free