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One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Fell Off the Celibacy Wagon……

It is no secret that my journey in being and remaining celibate has been a struggle.  It is also one that I ultimately lost a few battles with. At the time it was so easy to succumb to my most primal of desires. Sex is like a drug because it activates the same hormone pathways in your brain. Naturally, I found myself guilt ridden and angry afterwards.  I had managed to maintain my self control for 18 months, only to flush it all and be back at square one in a matter of minutes. 

So why does it even matter so much?  Well first there is the understanding that my situation won’t change until I do.  In the process of deciding what things I yield some level of control over in life and what things I wanted to do differently,  having a sexual relationship very easily ended up on the chopping block. 

Even though I have a pretty healthy relationship with sex and my personal sexuality; I wanted a different relationship overall with sex itself.  Sex in many ways I felt clouded my judgement.  Being caught in the patriarchal paradigm of what it means in society for a woman to have the audacity to have had more than one partner can leave many a woman (myself included) locked in a less than favorable situation.  Therefore in an effort to master myself, and also find the traits I value most in a mate,  I put sex on the shelf. 

So I’m sure some of are wondering if it was worth it. All I can say to that is in this instance satisfaction is subjective.  In the moment was it enjoyable absolutely.  Was it worth it in relation to my long-term goals and desires? Probably not. 

 The sexual encounter was an entirely selfish interaction.  I was only concerned with I wanted in that moment there was no give and take. Its important to note that I’m not referring to a physical reciprocity,  but rather an emotional one.  I now see sex between two uncommitted people as an act of aggression.  They both take something from each other they can never give back.

In the process of forgiving myself,  I was able to reflect positively on the things I learned about myself through falling short of my goal temporarily.  First I reminded myself that even though I was made perfectly my actions won’t always reflect that.  I’m human and mistakes and failure come with the job description.  Whether or not I learn from them or dwell in them is a choice. A competitor by design I can’t stand when I fall short, but the champion in me is always satisfied to finish. Even though I lost this round and let it drive me a bit bananas;  I’m back on the wagon and not looking back.  

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Poetry Break: I Am In Need

I am in need

of peaceful days

and restless nights

lost in the tangles of love’s clutches

silhouettes dancing in candle birthed shadows

soft, firm caressed as you take hold

of my breath

chest against my back

warm sweet breath on my neck

already I’m breathless

hands running to breasts

feet

thighs

gently massaging

swiftly arousing me

sweat slowly dripping down the small of my back

goose bumps survey my flesh

awaiting your next caress

already I’m breathless

your lips softer than baby’s bottom

address me with the warmth of your mouth

the sweetest conversation

see I am in need

to be sucked and rubbed

and pinched and smacked

and flipped until I’m overdone

Hell sometimes a lady just wants to be fucked

but oh no

‘cause if you go for what you want

you’re a slut, tramp, bitch, ho

oh no

don’t get me wrong making love is what I love

but tonight

ooooooh tonight

I want to arise to an afro leaning to the front

back, and the side

I am in need

of a man who is man enough to dive into the depths of me

to explore me like Jacques Cousteau

love my body no follicle untouched

un-kissed

un-caressed

no inch of flesh left behind

I am in need of a man to make me sing a soulful love song

while he works my clitoral on and off switch

to bring out the opera of my soprano

from the rising and death-defying gliding of his phallus

to bring on my crescendo

and push out my most primal

make me growl like the panther that I am

devour me in the jungle of my heart

when my body has done its final quake let me rest in peaceful

joy-filled slumber

let me awake once again a lady

breakfast in bed

ham, bacon, pancakes

potatoes, eggs

and oh, special for you a little head

see while last night was all about me

I truly feel it’s better to give than receive

or give and receive

whatever way you fancy

never selfish always ancy

but still you can’t just give away these panties

no matter how erect the direction of these nipples

pointing you out

or how wet this pussy

trying to pull my card

I’m a lady

and the whore trapped inside

tapping my mind

and a working on my nerves

with all the thoughts of what you could do

she don’t run shit

so here I sit

in need

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Poetry Break: Monkey Me

See I’ve been wrestling with this monkey called depression for some years, and he occasionally, hangs out with this gorilla named alcohol, and for a while in high school, he hung out with this baboon, buffoon weed, and every time I swear I got him beat and I love my life or so it seems he comes round with his reel to reel, and replays my life full of bullshit themes, from love story to the dramas, and crazy action horror flicks. Hollywood has no idea what real 3D, breathtaking life is, nothing worse than watching bad shit happen, except that goes on with innocent kids who had no decision on their existence, sometimes I used to wonder if I’m the master of my destiny, who is anyone to deem me wrong for politely conceding and ending my journey? But every day I still strive this monkey see, and do, and do lie, do wrong, make me strong……sometimes,weigh me down, stall my breath, feel like death……some days,   I keep on going, because those days when the monkey is too exhausted from fighting, when he can’t immobilize, and his lack of opposable thumbs gets him down, these are the days, weeks, and months for which I live,  absent shaven head and umbrella sword fights, no delusions of grandeur, or depraved indifference, just even keel, favorite meal, that’s my jam, singing off key happily, everyday type flow, man o man, the days without that monkey yo, a clear day in LA where you can see forever, But this thoughtless fool, he  knows my address, sees my progress and at a moment’s notice will take the time to ascend my thighs, and claim jump my peace, distracting me with his incessant gorilla chatter, attempting to convince me to sit, out this round, this passage, this life, un-scratchable itch, mean ol’ monkey bitch, why me, why harass little back, small hip me?  Fight him off one more time, as he smiles at me that’s life baby girl, don’t you get it, see, deep down inside you appreciate me, I make some of your days amazing, I dredge you into exhaustion and encourage you to refrain from success, and wallow in this stress, but it’s me that gets up and my weight presses you on, ungrateful whiner God sent me to make you strong, what could I say, what in reality was there to do, I slapped his little monkey ass, and said bring it on boo
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