Four poems
minimalism: what's it all about?
In a world full of shit
murders + robberies
+ anomie
+ 50 quadzillion people
and a hundred zoozles thousand
more being born every
day
sometimes
it's nice just to sit
and stare at a
brick with
blue paint on
it.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Shy Boys At Home, published by Chiron Review Press in 1999.)
============================
parsley between the teeth
he still remembers living
in the dorm in college and being
hunky and 20 years
old and waking up that
afternoon from a sexdream and
finding a pool of his own cum soaking
the sheet from the sexdream he's just
been having and the sunlight is streaming in
like golden shadows
lighting up the cum-wet
tent he's erected
over his own cum-wet
belly.
he feels warm and friendly,
a young sex-god
banging the sunlight.
**
he's middle-aged now,
and, now, when he jerks off,
he finds that he still thinks back to that
afternoon in the dorm:
the cum-soaked sheet, the sunlight,
things that happen
when you're 20, good-looking,
lying naked on your sweaty back under a
gossamer tent in the stunningly bright
rays of the sun.
--Carl Miller Daniels (2015)
==================================
resistance is futile
two sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys
are in the shower, jerking off together. they
watch each other
do that. they watch
each other
spurt cum.
**
then they're
in the kitchen, eating
a sandwich.
**
then they're back in
the shower,
jerking off together,
watching each other
do that.
**
then it's back to
the kitchen, for
another sandwich.
**
seemingly, nothing's changed
at all.
still ham and cheese.
and both sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys
are still horny. so they head back upstairs.
**
this time, though, they
don't get in the shower. this time,
they climb into bed together.
**
now
a warm kiss on the
lips.
a soft sheet
on hard
facts.
--Carl Miller Daniels (2015)
===============================
peripheral vision
goodness gracious, the lullabies have come to life and
turned to screams.
the sacrosancticity of the midmorning
jerk-off break
has been challenged.
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys everywhere
are being told that they must engage
in this activity all alone,
without friends,
without comments,
without the communal sharing of ecstacy.
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys everywhere
are told that they
must do what they do
in an empty little room,
in a bathroom, perhaps,
and all by themselves,
and just shut up about
what they are doing.
the jubilation of jerking off
and spurting big gooey gobs of
hot drippy cum
is just a solitary feat.
nothing to share.
nothing to get worked up about in a large
group, even of like-minded,
and similarly endowed,
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys everywhere.
everywhere,
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys are
told to hide it,
don't stare at others while they are doing it,
don't make it a group
activity,
don't share,
keep it to yourself.
shut up about it.
if you've got to do it, then do it, but
don't let on.
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys everywhere
yearn for company.
yearn to watch each other doing it,
yearn to watch each other jerking off,
spurting cum,
gasping, panting, joyously out of breath,
nipples sweating,
balls furry and damp with musky aroma.
but,
nonetheless,
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boys everywhere
must enjoy this activity alone.
shhhh. quietly.
out of sight, but
not
out of mind.
--Carl Miller Daniels (2013)
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