Five poems -- all five of these appeared in the January 2014 issue of BareBack Magazine -- I'm the Featured Poet in that issue (he says, modestly)


the british are coming

calling out the guard to protect my misspent youth
is like getting a fly swatter to kill a mountain lion.
calling out a sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
to protect my misspent old age is like
commanding everyone, everywhere, to
cease masturbating, once and for all.
people keep expecting logic and
reasonable transitions from Point A to
Point B. people have all kinds of
expectations. hopes and dreams,
vaulted hypotheses of the ease of
testing what is right and what is
wrong, and sensing the earnest value of
good movies when coupled with
too much wine. i tell you,
when that sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
is lying on his back on top of his bed
at midnight, and his big throbbing dick
is hard as a rock, and he's trying to
follow the rules against masturbation,
and he's looking at himself
in the mirror that's mounted over his
dressertop, but which conveniently
shows his entire beautiful slim tawny naked
body within the confines of its
metallic frame, it's difficult for this
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
to keep his fingers off his
big throbbing dick, and
he smiles into the mirror,
as he waits for his erection
to subside, on its own, and
thereby relieve him of decisions,
and acts of retrogression, as
he slithers succinctly into
that state of mind where
peacocks stand in the treetops
and scream their heads off,
their big feathers fluffed up
and spread out, all
shiny in the noon-day sun.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in BareBack Magazine, the January 2014 issue.)


golden age penis skeleton

the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy had reached
the point in his masturbatory development where
he liked to whap his dick against his belly.
in other words, he liked to lie on his back atop
his bed,
and with the fingers of one hand hold onto
his dick so
that he could knock the top of his dick
against his belly, rhythmically, whap
whap whap.
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
especially savored the feel of his
big purple dickhead as he knocked
the top of it against his smooth
tight belly.  whap whap whap.
oh yes,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
loved to lie there atop his bed on his
back whapping the top of his big hard
dick against his nice smooth and tight
belly. this procedure made a definite
"whap whap whap" sound and one
night he was lying in bed masturbating
using that method and
making that "whap whap whap" sound
as the top of his big hard dick whapped
against his belly,
and his roommate said "what
are you doing?"
his roommate was also a sophomore
in college. his roommate was in
the top bunk.
he himself was in the bottom bunk.
his roommate was also a very good-looking
guy.
so, the mood he was in,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
who was currently masturbating
and making that "whap whap whap" sound
said: "i'm doing this new kind of
masturbation i've starting liking where
i whap the top of my dick against my belly.
it feels great, especially the part where my
my nice sensitive dickhead whaps against
me."
and, while saying these words to
his sexy roommate,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
is making that "whap whap whap" sound
as he continues masturbating using this
"whap whap whap" methodology.
in a couple of seconds, the sexy roommate
replies, "that's what i thought you
were doing," and then HE, the sexy roommate,
begins making that sound himself, as he
whaps the top of his own big smooth dick
against his own nice taut belly.
so both boys are lying in their bunks,
masturbating in this "whap whap whap"
method, neither boy seeing
the other, but both boys entirely aware
of what is going on, and very soon,
they are pacing themselves using
the exact same rhythm. their
"whap whap whaps" are synchronized
exactly, and then both sophomore college boys,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
and his hot sexy roommate,
are chuckling good-naturedly,
lying there masturbating rhythmically,
and the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
says to his roommate,
"any second i'm gonna spurt cum" and
his sexy roommate answers back "me too"
and
the "whap whap whap" continues right along,
until a moment of silence,
during which hot smelly cum is being spurted
in great big gooey gushy quantities.
then, both boys get out of bed
and start wiping the cum off
their chests and bellies with
dirty t-shirts,
and
the lights in their room are still
off
but
suddenly
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
turns on the overhead light
and both boys stand there
staring at each other,
their big dicks still mostly
hard, their bodies young
and beautiful and sweaty,
they've never done anything like
this before, nothing sexual like
this, with each other, or with
any other guy for that matter,
and
they just go on staring at each
other like this is the most
amazing thing they've ever done
in their whole entire
lives
and, years later,
all graduated,
employed, with attractive
wives and smart sassy kids,
each of those two guys
occasionally thinks back
on that night in the dorm,
and then each of those
two guys grins, licks
his lips, and
smiles really really
big.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Saline, published by Interior Noise Press in 2014. It also appears in BareBack Magazine, January 2014.)



taking credit for sunday

monsters rise up out of the ocean and attack
the land. then, as if thinking they have done
something good, they wait to be patted
on the head by sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys.
then, in addition, they roll onto their sides
and offer their assholes to be fucked
by the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys who
now have full raging hardons. what
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy, and in
that state of arousal, could resist
that kind of offer? and so,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys
pat the monsters on the head
and fuck them up the ass. then,
they roll apart, these freshly-fucked
head-patted monsters and
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys
who have just head-patted them and butt-fucked them,
and the monsters slink back into
the sea, once again, thinking they have done
something good. then the sexy naked big-dicked
teenage boys lie there alone on the sand,
staring up at the sky, worshipping faith and
hope, and craving the meaning of charity.
when the time arrives
for the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys
to spurt another load of
cum, the
warning sirens go off and everyone
starts milling about.  there is
high anxiety on the beach. nothing
seems certain. and it is
only the very lucky, who
bend over, wait, and
grab ahold of
their own ankles, as
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys
roam about, making difficult,
though well-reasoned, choices.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in BareBack Magazine, the January 2014 issue.)



kangaroo vine gold rush

ralph the nation and pantomime the stars,
the manikins are coming to town. and why is
it, you may ask, that manikins have no
genitalia? males or females, the
manikins just don't have these organs.
the sexy big-dicked teenage boys are standing
in front of a window display, where
all the manikins are still nude, and
are just this moment being dressed, and
it is hard not to notice that
none of these manikins have
genitalia. "where are the guys' dicks?" says
one of the sexy big-dicked teenage boys.
"and where are the girls' cunts?" says
another of the sexy big-dicked teenage boys.
then, the sexy big-dicked teenage boys
stand there a while longer, until
the manikins are mostly dressed,
and then,
nearing sunset,
the sexy big-dicked teenage boys
head on over to the house
where one of them lives,
and they take off all their
clothes, and they look at
each other's genitals. and by
look, i mean really look.
these sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys
examine each other's genitals,
scrutinize each other's genitals,
talk about each other's genitals,
and, the general consensus is,
that everybody here looks real good naked,
and that everybody here has real nice
genitals, and that boy manikins everywhere
should definitely have genitals, too.
by then, all the sexy naked big-dicked
teenage boys have pretty much
fallen in love with each other,
and they touch each other
in warm, friendly, and
overtly sexual ways.  in fact, when
the word "orgy" is spoken,
there is instant agreement,
and
even the sexy male manikin that's
been hidden in the
mother's closet, gets to
take part. none of the
boys are surprised to see
that this particular manikin
has a penis,
or that his
eyes are startlingly
blue.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Saline, published by Interior Noise Press in 2014, and currently available at Amazon. It also appears in BareBack Magazine, the January 2014 issue.)




the evolutionary squawk

"ambrosia for the masses,
but only turnips for the elite?"
thinks the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy.
"that doesn't seem fair, now does it?"
**
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
is bothered by a sense
of fairness, by a sense of what
is, and is not, fair play in
the day-to-day operations of the world.
**
"and why should the masses
be the main market for
all the big beautiful blockbuster movies, and,
for us, the elite, there's just
these scrawny little indie films?"
**
oh yes, the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
knows quite well that his own
status is firmly with the elite,
and that he, and the masses,
have never traveled the same path.
**
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
is a worrier, too, as he
stands there in
a secluded spot in the forest,
staring up into the sky, as
if searching for answers.
**
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
is tugging on his own big
sweet beautiful dick,
now hard as a rock,
as the birds sing, and the
butterflies flutter about.
there's a droplet of perfectly
clear, and sticky, pre-cum at
the tip of his dick, and
he's just about at the moment
of orgasm.
**
"this business of equality,"
thinks the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy,
as he tugs on his own big
beautiful dick, "when
clearly i'm good-looking and gifted
and sexy as hell, is certainly
a matter for further contemplation,"
thinks the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy,
as the moment of orgasm
arrives, his cum begins to
spurt, and his tight little
nipples tingle like bright
copper pennies, hitting the
pavement, as the traffic
slows to a stop.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in BareBack Magazine, the January 2014 issue.)