Four poems




lawrence

the miracle of boredom is that it sometimes
begets creativity.
and masturbation.
and, on really good days, creative masturbation.
for instance, today the sexy big-dicked teenage boy
stirs himself from his boredom and
strips himself naked and paints his
nipples red with a tube of red lipstick.
then, what the heck, he paints his
scrotum red, too,
with the same tube of lipstick.
**
the house is empty. he is all alone.
**
so there he stands, in front of
his big bedroom mirror, totally naked,
his nipples painted red,
his scrotum painted
red, his big dick hard and
smooth and throbbing.
then he jerks off with
a few fast well-paced pumps of
his fist, and
it's off to the
shower with him, where
he discovers it takes LOTS
of soap and water to
remove lipstick.
information that
may be prove useful
some day, he supposes.
**
he hums a while
in the shower,
a new tune, one
that he's just now
made up.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Gorilla Architecture, published by Interior Noise Press in 2011.)

==================================

picking daisies

pacing to the left, then to
the right,
the skinny little art major college boy
practically wore down the carpet
in his room, he paced so much.
the skinny little art major college boy
was totally naked, clothes bothered
him when he was in his worry mode,
and he was sure in his worry mode
now,
ah yes indeed,
he was quite the worrier.
everything worried him.
everything made him fret.
he worried and worried and worried
and fretted and fretted and
paced to the left and
then to the right
and outside it started
to rain and then thunder and
lightning and
then gusts of wind rattled
his bedroom window and still
the skinny naked little art major college boy
went right on
pacing and worrying and fretting.
the level of his anxiety
could be described as a 10 on a
scale of 1 to 10
and when
the rain and thunder and lightning
and wind finally stopped,
the skinny naked little art major college boy
suddenly quit
pacing,
sometimes jerking off really helped
calm him down for a few moments,
he'd seen it work that way before,
more than once, in fact,
and so he
lay down on his back
on top of his bed and
tugged on his surprisingly
big vigorously rock-hard dick for a while
until he spurted cum all
over his skinny naked chest and belly
and then he wiped it off himself
and lay there staring wide-eyed
at the ceiling, and then wouldn't ya know
goddammit this time jerking off
didn't calm him down all that
much now did it
and so then
it was right back to
fretting and worrying and
fretting some more so he
got right back out of bed
and paced some more
and wore down the carpet some more
and
by now it was well after midnight
but still the skinny naked little art major college boy
couldn't sleep,
still he worried and fretted
and worried some more,
it was all just so
fucking much -- he worried
about everything, this,
that, whatever crossed his
mind, he couldn't stop
thinking about it,
this, that, the
other, just EVERYthing --
now take
Edvard Munch's
THE SCREAM, for instance --
one of them
recently sold for 55 million,
now how could anyone
sleep after that?

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Be Kind to Strangers, published by BareBackPress in 2015. The poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue 99, Spring 2010.)

====================================






toe, and finger, nails

jamie bell
is letting me watch while he jerks himself off.
jamie bell
has been a point of fixation of mine
for many years. jamie bell is
a very sexy sweet cute handsome young actor.
i think his body is marvelous.
his crooked little smile just
sweet and endearingly sensuous.
the only time i've seen him almost
naked is in his movie "mr. foe" --
he's
almost totally naked in
that movie, but not quite totally.
anyhow i nearly lost it when
i saw that scene of him
almost naked. second only
to the scene in which
he paints red circles around
his nipples with lipstick.
**
anyhow, at this
moment i am watching jamie bell
jerk himself off, and i am
kind of
going mad
while
jamie bell is jerking himself off for me,
and,
when he spurts cum,
he smiles real big,
his eyes sparkle,
and then
he lets me smell the puddle
of cum he's left
on the bed -- in fact,
he insists that
i stick my
nose right
into it,
so that he
can see his cum
on the tip
of my nose.
at this moment
it strikes me that life is certainly very strange,
but really, quite
good.

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


=============================



indulgence is the sincerest form of saying yes

Jamie Bell (star of BILLY ELLIOT and THE CHUMSCRUBBER
and MISTER FOE), are you secretly reading my poetry?
Jamie Bell, you beautiful big-dicked young man, are
you secretly reading my poetry
about beautiful big-dicked young men,
beautiful big-dicked young men just like you?
**
Jamie Bell, i hope you're flattered, and
not creeped out, that i can so easily
picture you totally naked, lying on
your back atop your bed, and you
are so gently oh you are
so gently tugging on your big
hard smooth dick. when you spurt
cum, your eyes flash like
mystical sparks and your
sweet charming crooked little grin peeks
through your wet tongue-licked
lips.
**
Jamie Bell, are you secretly
reading my poetry about
beautiful big-dicked young men
who do the sort of things
that i imagine you do,
in the privacy of your
own room, on your bed,
alone, experiencing
the joy you experience
at touching your beautiful
body in the respectful
and reverent ways that
you touch your nipples,
and dick, and balls,
and let your fingers
linger over just the
tips of your untrimmed
pubic hair.
you are
a wild man, there
all alone, thrashing
about, dreaming of
my sweet
sexy poems,
and me.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Assaracus #3, June 2011. It also appears in my book Saline, published by Interior Noise Press in 2014.)