Devil Girl Diaries 6 – (Where Did She Go)

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Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

the moving train rocked gently

Devil Girl moved back and forth

against the groin that pressed her bottom

causing a smile on construction workers face

I had enough of watching

muscle man and my Allie

do the subterranean lambada

the train pulled into the station

perfect time to move toward them

the doors opened

an elderly woman boarded

I slowly helped her to the nearest seat

my gaze returned to Allie

she was gone

my eyes darted from left to right

pushed through the crowded subway car

where could she be

the train door shut

my heart resembled jungle drums

I glanced out the window

there she was

talking to the construction brute

smiling at his words

nodding as he spoke

her skirt lifting in the air

the train pulled out of the station

into the dark tunnel 

You hurt me Devil Girl

You know the drill; to be continued.

 

Bridge of Broken Dreams

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This simple verse is for an unnamed blogger friend dealing with lost love.

 

Bridge of Broken Dreams

Going to the Bridge of Broken Dreams       

to dump your caresses in the river

cause it’s so painful to remember                       

how easily you forgot me                                      

On a mountain I’ll dig the deepest grave

for the crate of empty vows you made

perhaps for you they meant nothing

so buried treasures they’ll be

On the highest cliff I will be standing

When my heart and I finally agree

To toss your photos in the ocean 

’til currents drown your memory

Devil Girl Diaries 5 – (Subway Surprise)

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Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

 

the 1 train pulled into the station

bringing a wind with it

lifting Devil Girl’s skirt to heaven

exposing her bare derrière

sending my poor heart to hell

so much for the shy girl next door

Allie boarded the train

followed by a horde of men

I entered through another door

she clutched a metal bar

a construction worker stood behind her

she pressed her butt into his groin

his face reacted with surprise

the gentle rocking of the train

did the rest

breathless, angry, confused

I wanted to rip them apart

yet, I wanted to see more

what was wrong with me

she looked over her shoulder

at the brute behind her

he moved closer to her

pushing against her white skirt

rubbing himself against my Allie

I had to stop it

my feet refused to move

my aroused groin betrayed me

what the…..

oh you confuse me Devil Girl

You already know the drill, to be continued.

Jessie

Normally, I try to post a poem on Thursday, however due to the holiday, I will post one today.

 

Jessie

They buried Jessie’s older brother today

he just finished turning five

she never had a toy, tv, or internet

yet she’s grateful to be alive

her brother taught her one through ten

by counting her fragile ribs

now she smiles when her stomach growls

as Mama feeds the newborn in the crib

Jessie runs barefoot down a dirt road

in a tattered dress of white

with baby fed, Mama has only one concern

will Jessie eat tonight

According to the United Nations World Food Programme statistics, approximately 3.1 million children under the age of five die each year from hunger or poor nutrition.

Jessie

Devil Girl Diaries 3 – (Pandora)

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Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

shirtless in Allie’s bed

Pandora kissed my broad chest

her hands undid my jeans

my desires slowly got the best of me

how could I be doing this?

Pandora freed me from my denim shackles

clutching me as if she won a proud trophy

she looked back at a dark corner

you didn’t warn me she sighed

a mischievous giggle escaped the darkness

reminding me Allie was there

before I could protest

a warm accomodating mouth devoured me

I moaned, trembled, stroked Pandora’s mane

pushed back on the bed my passions rose

fours hands and two mouths explored me

teasing, caressing, pleasing

Allie is this what you want?

she smiled and whispered

yes, I am your Devil Girl

I coupled with Pandora

hours later exhaustion got the best of me

resting between two sleeping sirens

voluptuous Pandora on my right

Allie in fetal position to my left

I recalled my Christian beliefs

and sighed

what have you done to me Devil Girl

Happy Saturday. More next week.

x

Dark Paradise

A tropical paradise plagued by power outages.

A serial killer strikes when the lights go out.

An American cop too proud to admit he is afraid of the dark.

 

Raised in an orphanage, Mike Archer often found himself locked in a dark closet. Thirty years later he chased a drug lord into a dark alley and barely survived a bloody ambush. One year and four gunshot wounds later, he is hired by a friend to stop “El Diablo,” (the Devil) a serial killer responsible for the deaths of nine teens. Can Archer venture into the darkness?

To stop the devil, Michael Archer must overcome the demons within himself.

 

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Paradox

On the two year anniversary of Lisa’s disappearance, Detective Jake Cross vows to quit the force to find his missing wife. Hours later, a devastating alien invasion reduces Earth to ashes. Jake awakens in a strange hospital where a secret message on a paper cup advises him, “They are watching.” Thus begins his journey through an alien controlled Earth.

Seven billion dead, yet his heart only mourns for one. Jake joins forces with the last human colony, a somber community reeking of death. Battle weary survivors wander the underground city, their eyes devoid of hope. The humans have food, medicine, and ammunition to survive another week. Anointed the Great Liberator, our last hope, Jake is advised, “Our destiny is decided by the sacrifices that we make and the ones that we don’t.” The reluctant detective rejects his fate until he learns of his wife’s capture and impending execution.

In a deadly race against time, he leads the survivors to the alien metropolis to fight mutating aliens with futuristic weapons, unmanned flying motorcycles, hormone injected canines, and an evil as infinite as time. Mabus, the ruthless alien leader will not rest until every human has been exterminated. Jake must kill this immortal enemy to stave off his wife’s death sentence, but how can he be expected to defeat a God when thousands have already failed?

With time running out, Jake confronts the ultimate sacrifice, rescue his wife or prevent our extinction.

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How Do You Get In The Mood (To Write)?

How do you get in the mood?

No perverts and pervettes; I meant in the mood to write. (Please note: Any ladies wishing to discuss mood setting in non writing topics, please write via my Contact Me). Enough already.

Odd puppy that he is, Lonely Author has changed in his ability to write. Used to be I needed total silence. Now, I can write in the epicenter of a storm. (Still need to edit in total silence). For certain chapters (or scenes for my screenplays) I seek mood setting places.

For romantic scenes, I dim the lights and listen to soft jazz (Kenny G.) or love songs (Waiting For A Girl Like You, Lady In Red, My Heart Will Go On, and many others). When I want to write about an alluring woman, I begin with Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight.”

For dark moments I seek solitude. I once wrote a dark chapter locked in a closet. I exited sweaty, tearing, and exhausted. But the chapter had the mood I wanted to convey.

Dark Paradise, my novel waiting to be transferred from hand written notebooks to computer, written by candle light. While on a month vacation in the Dominican Republic (an island that suffers from power outages), I received the inspiration for a novel based on a serial killer who strikes when the lights go out and an American cop hired to stop him. The cop obviously, has one phobia – he is too proud to admit he is afraid of the dark.

I penned half of the book by candle light, setting the mood within myself.

How do you get in the mood to write?

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Devil Girl Diaries

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Devil Girl Diaries

Every man has that one unforgettable female that will haunt him until the end of time; the chick that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. My muse had a nickname. Devil Girl I called her. My name is Andrew. This is our story.

Determined to explore the depths of sexuality

Devil Girl took me to heights I had never known

our exploits began on a sunny day at a mall

returning from the ladies room

she jammed her wet red thong in my hand

the act left me trembling like a frightened deer

her short skirt threatened to expose

the sweet treasure I refused to share

the image of her bare ass caught my breath

teasing, taunting, and provoking me

she strutted away in high heels

intoxicated by her swaying skirt   

my heart pounded against my ribs

devoid of saliva thirst overwhelmed me

Devil girl slinked into the food court

sat across a ravenous construction crew

before I could beg my nymph to stop

her beautiful pale legs parted slightly

exposing the paradise that was only mine

my life would never be the same

More Devil Girl Diaries next Saturday