Several poems


do you say "supper" or "dinner"?

magritte the wallpaper and turn out the lights.
confess your sins to anyone who will listen.
promise to be good every single minute of every single day.
if you've been doing something bad, swear that you'll
stop it at once, and swear that you'll never ever do it again.
stick to your diet. watch your alcohol intake.
watch dirty movies only if they have
some meaningful artistic statement to make.
just get yourself together!
**
while walking down the road to complete and
total recovery,
the sexy naked big-dicked young man
told himself that he needed to stop
all sorts of things that he'd been doing.
too much drinking. too much
masturbating. too much
cynicism. too much criticizing
everything and everyone. he
needed to develop a sweeter nature.
a kinder attitude.
a more forgiving stance in the world.
soon the sexy naked big-dicked young man
sat down on a big smooth rock in
the middle of the woods and
thought about all these things
while he was jerking off,
thought about all these things
as he was tugging gently and rhythmically
on his big sturdy dick,
even thought about all these
things during the all-too-brief moments when
the cum was spurting out of him.
then,
the sexy naked big-dicked young man
pulled the bottle of whiskey out
of his knapsack and he sat there,
on the rock, in the middle of
the forest,
drinking whiskey and smelling
the musky scent of his
own fresh cum.
really, the world at
this moment was
all too beautiful.
how could he ever
have an
unpleasant thought
about it, or
himself, ever
ever again?
in fact, at this moment,
a bright
orange butterfly
landed on his
left nipple, and
the touch of
its delicate
and brittle little legs
made the
sexy naked big-dicked young man
grin like an
idiot, a sweet and harmless one,
with a heart
of the finest and
purest gold.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in And So On...The BareBack Anthology, September 2016.)



string bean

i was secretly plotting my own suicide
when fate intervened, and i got
sent to a mental hospital for 3 months.
i emerged from the mental hospital
only half-crazy. no longer suicidal,
but kinda half wild, half terrified,
my thoughts of an
undefined and
gauzily amorphous
nature. i was just 18.
now,
i'm 63, long ago met
the man i love, and have been
living with him
for over 30 years.
we're good together.
i feel lucky.
now, when
i think back about
a lot of things in my life,
i feel kinda nostalgic
mellow, and
puzzled, actually,
by the apparent happenstance of
it all. who knew things would
turn out okay?
i'm looking out the window at
this very moment. it's october.
autumn leaves in all those
pretty autumn colors.
yep,
i'm almost 64 now,
and
just kinda
amazed.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem "string bean" is the title poem to my book String Bean.  The book String Bean was published by BareBackPress in 2018. The poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #104, Summer 2016.)


oligocene chastity

while wiling away the hours,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
likes to tug on his big hard sturdy dick,
and spurt big sloppy gobs of hot gooey cum.
**
also, he runs many miles alone in
the bright sunny forest.
he gets stronger and sexier
and even better looking.
**
also, he likes shrimp puffs.
**
now you take yer average
shrimp puff
and savor it with
the tip of your tongue.
yer teeth crunching
on it till
there's next to nothing
there -- a bit of
wet dust in your
mouth -- and
that's all.
**
doesn't seem like
the average
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
would be "into"
shrimp puffs.
**
but he is.
**
life's kinda like that.
**
unexpected, barely
semi-logical.
**
you wish everything made
more sense than it actually
does.
**
but there he sits.
eating shrimp puffs.
**
and it's not even noon.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in And So On...The BareBack Anthology, September 2016.)


steadfast magenta

"masturbation is the solution, not the problem,"
says one sexy masturbating young man
to the other sexy masturbating young man.
as they often do, they are performing
this activity together, naked, and talking about
it, and anything else that might
occur to them.
"the actual problem is of course
the relentless hardon," says
the first sexy masturbating young man.
"exactly!" says the
second sexy masturbating young man.
then he continues: "i mean, you
can't just walk around with a hardon
all the time, can you? it's just
not culturally acceptable!"
"of course it's not," says
the first sexy masturbating young man.
"and you can't fight culture," he adds.
the two sexy masturbating
young men are standing about 5 feet apart,
facing each other, talking,
watching each other masturbate.
they are young and sexy and big-dicked and
ridiculously good-looking.
they are staring intently at each other now,
anticipating the moment of orgasm.
"just about there," says the first
sexy masturbating young man.
"me too," says the other sexy
masturbating young man,
the dusk licking at the door,
and, suddenly, they both start spurting cum.
they spurt cum and spurt cum
and spurt yet more cum, until,
they're done. they stand there staring at
each other all sexy and beautiful and
big dicks starting to get a
little bit droopy.
then,
"wanna get a pizza?" says the first sexy young man.
"heck yeah," says the other sexy young man.
"extra pepperoni?" says the first sexy young man.
"of course!" says the second sexy young man.
those two: once again they agree on just
about everything, and, once again, life
is pretty dang good.

--Carl Miller Daniels


now now diurnal tryptophan

the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
stood at the edge of the meadow,
looking down at the little
white flowers that were blooming
profusely in the warm light of the summertime
sun. he was in a great mood.
he felt like giving himself a thousand million
orgasms, one for each and every
flower that was exploding there in front
of him.
**
"god, what a beautiful day. god,
what a wonderful day," thought the
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
as he tugged gently on his big smooth massive
dick, hard, and thick, and shiny,
until, very soon, he
watched the cum explode out of its
tip,
savored the moment, savored the
sensation of harsh orgasm and
its gentle nerve-soothing after-effects.
**
now, the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
wanted another one, another orgasm,
right now, right this minute, and he
wanted it immediately!
but that was pretty much impossible.
his dick was now soft, and he would
have to wait a while for it to
"re-charge".
but he didn't want to wait
he didn't want to wait
he never ever wanted to wait.
**
his good mood evaporated.
**
it was a beautiful day,
but
way too long,
and all those goddamn little white flowers,
well, they
could just go
fuck themselves.
**
when the earth is a zillion
years old,
how does anyone
go on?
and why do they
do it? with
the hint of summer
fading, and the
breath of winter
feeding on the
curly twists of time.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Be Kind to Strangers, published by BareBackPress in 2015.)