The Secret of the Hidden Booth

European Men do say, so I've heard,

"B.D.S.M. is a Choice!"

Only in the conservative mind

does a 'Being' find this a joke.

Silent practice of what this is all about,

an act of Life long interest.

One does not happen upon,

it's birthed inside of us.

I witness not to what I can't,

I know that most condemn this Art.

My interest in my childhood facts

is nothing more than good.

A life like mine,

I know it's rare,

I've seen so much more, it's true.

Most of you, the general view,

is get away, please shew.

Why must people point at what

they never could comprehend or even have understood.

Just turn your head, hold up your hand,

state your view of lust.

Instead, you sneak and look upon the Internet to see.

Your interest peaked by what is neat,

the fear in you will drive you too!

You'll ask.

What am I missing?

What could this be?

Behind this iron curtain for me?

All in secrecy.

It's Red in fact,

if memory serves this person who writes/declares on here.

It's meant to hold the cowards back, 

a heavy drape of truth.

Separating you from the view of the Lurid Fair of two.

Dungeons go deeper still,

down stairs, 'round bends and turns.

The excitement of such a steep decline

into the heart of must: Trust!

A pit of the vocal kind of sight,

I dare to go this path once more,

stop me not! from this I go,

it's you who does resist the pull.

This flavor of what can't be dreamt,

upon my mind does rest this tempt,

of journeying to this place.

Going there, is not a dare,

I stare at you and think,

"Why must you always blink?"

The Dungeons serve Eclairs.

Nerves of steel are not so real,

anticipation rings!!

My mind does reel, with the film,

I saw in places of.....

A Nightmare? "No"

This is so true, if not fact for fact.

An honest stay back in the day,

of the Sixties, this is so.

Lasting longer than one day,

dependent on your vice.

Sometimes it seemed a little rough,

you would say it was not nice.

What is this that you do protest?

They're memories to Me.

To see inside my Minds Eye,

would cause you envy and you may cry,

but, what I say is true, 'cause why bother to lie.

All for the sake of the hidden booth!!



The turn of Innocence. A Star? A Circle? An interest in the Dark...

Where are the places that I've been?

In my youth I saw.

Where are these places stuck in my mind?

Where are you hiding?

In all time?

You spoke the Incantations of the Dark,

my eyes, wide open!

Trained in the protection of hearts and souls,

I did not protest as we went below.

The room began to distant itself,

I was merely a child in your midst,

a gentle persistent move from where?

I often ask myself.

The deepest and darkest beings appeared,

speaking in archaic verse.

I heard them clearly,

I understood, did you know of this?

Sit quiet, I heard in a whisper,

so near to me, this tone of he,

speaking on his own. 

Men in robes with hoods or cloaks guarded this realm around.

Swaying to the tune of found,

gave weight to the levity.

Demanding those to produce themselves,

I shook in fear.

I witnessed this frightful scene.

My youthful innocence protected me

 from the curse of such an act.

Not once, not twice was I brought to be.

More times than I could count.

My nights were filled with these strange times,

"a child of the guild" I was;

Where did you all so go?

Now that I am adult,

in venue I do act.

I wonder and I miss these days

 to know the truth of this: I yearn, please don't resist.

Will you guide my way?

The Beings that spoke were Red to me,

I see them in my mind.

My inner eye recorded such,

my ears did hear the words you lust.

Does this practice,

of the Dark Arts,

exist upon this Earth?

Active after each account,

 I know the members were.

They spoke of times that I saw,

the sexual prowess it did ignite

 bewilderment, madness and what seemed like fright.

The strangeness of all the night,

 never mentioned, it seemed so tight.

The Men were filled with motive,

to do more of what they'd done.

This thirst filled each and everyone,

the quench of which did run.

Does this tale of what was then,

interest you today.

Do the dungeons and lairs persist in silent prayer?

Do they want to play?

Or, is this type of privileged act,

held in silent accord? 

 Is it in the safety of the mansions and the more.

Does night fall here,

while the Sun rises where the men are kept at bay?

Dangerously I live with this,

I seemed to have gone astray.

Trained without regard to where I might reside in life.

I hid myself and held my tongue

until this very day.

I'm old enough to finally see,

the curious part inside of me

 desires the answer for..

There are these videos I see

 reminding me of times

when I was young and scared.

To fetch me now,

would be just how,

to know my actual means.

Silently I do report, I go about the way.

It is the year to expose

 "The Secret of the Hidden Booth"

Play me

As the Years roll, the Seventh Year approaches so quickly and without change

Waiting as the years pass with a slow and hurtful pull: I go alone.

Thoughts of what was, I close my eyes and dream while I sleep to the memories of old.

All has disappeared, no photo's, no calls, no place to visit, just gone, no where found.

No reason to ask the question, "Why?"

The answer shows up everywhere.

In disdain,

in constant hurt,

I hear no appeal to my cry or try to connect.

There was no purpose to such abandonment that I see,

until, Six Years later, told so plainly,

"I never want to see you again!!"

Not once do I find reason for this discord,

just comply with the wish of the ones that have spoken their peace.

Dissolve and absolute,

no room for discussion.

The choice was announced.

I bow out and find that which was never there,

a presence of what I could have only perceived as an imagination of my life's dedication.

A Life changed in one singular stroke of another.

I abandon all of what I thought I knew and had held in comfort and love.

I run with the Wolves,

I have been given an opportunity to run wild and free,

I will return to youthful dreams.

Six and one-half years have passed.

Upon the Seventh the words which I have spoken shall come to fruition.

Upon the stroke of such I shall leave and go a different way.

I wish luck to all of those who need such in their lives.

Each and every person upon this beautiful Earth who survives such a break,

be yourself in such an ordeal, be no other, you are amazing as you are today.

Listen to your inner person,

fill not yourself with the self-help books of other experiences,

take not advice from strangers.

Be Wise, be peaceful, be calm.

Know that all happens for reasons of your own personal growth.

Be discreet with your feelings,

-or- those feelings will be exploited by predators upon sight of such abandon of such.

Feel your birth into this Society of Hate and choose to Love instead.

In loss, you will find the greatest gain,

no matter the possessions you may be missing,

you exist and can live to begin again.

You are not an option for them to reap you of yourself during these tumultuous times. 

A stern approach of defense of your will to be will show and be your truth.

Be free to relish in this little known fact.

Believe in your presence upon this Earth as not random but a gift.

The very sake that you survive such challenges

proves your worth to yourself and will hold at bay any intruder upon your being.

Be pensive.

Consider the cost of the toll you have already paid thus far,

in your life and in the lives of others that may have advantaged you in the past.

Regard not your future,

care for your present, your body, your mind, your heart and your soul.

Surround yourself with what is natural, Nature.

Avoiding the noise of all the options that other Human Beings present to you will benefit you now.

Instilled within our very selves

we have been blessed with knowledge and capability to know repentance.

Accept these natural and eternal gifts which came with your birth.

Forget not your travels to all the troubled places that have plagued your life.

In these places you have learned to exist and live again.

You were before, you will be again.

Should you accept yourself as you are,

simple, uncomplicated, intelligent, able to learn and to adapt,

than you will continue, I trust this fact in myself.

Find strength in difference,

not sanity in the unclaimed pain in which you may still exist.

Freedom comes at such a great cost.

That is why it has the greatest expense and yet the rewards are unending to each of us.

Expression of Truth and to put a voice to our communication of our existence

should not be filled with lies to pacify the listener or passing stranger.

To do so will only prove a disservice to every man, woman and child.

In this instance of no regard for our existence or what should be told with frankness,

speak with your own freedom to express what you feel is correct within the bounds of your life.

Should you curb what is said and cannot speak with the freedom of your own personal thought,

you will only further the extinction of what is real:

The fight for all of us to live free from such oppression of the embarrassment brought on by others and their words of callous disregard towards each of us and with no thought to our well-being .

The Revolution Of A Single Life

Travel the imagination that birthed your Mind.

The corners, the turns, the dead-end appeals.

No wonder can enhance your brain,

if you stop your interest in yourself.

A Heart! A Soul!

Let it cry in agony, delight or relish in its choice.

Do not put constraints of others on your being.

Be Human.

Plea to no invisible..................!

Just because of what you are told is there.

Look up, look out, look all around

before you dare go to these places.

Belief in so much that we are told.

Where are our own convictions?

Do we bury each of them?

Complying with their truth?

Could or can we be so free,

to experience rivalry?

With sexual pleasure or tender thoughts?

Should we give-up with no sight of what is rammed down our throats?

I say to Mother Earth,

to Creation and I am sure what is worse.

Is it Evolution that takes away our choice?

I do not know but, I do ask,

these questions in me grow.

You have to decide which way to go.

Independently and on your own, all by yourself.

I am walking, sometimes I run,

mostly I am halted in all this fear.

The attacks for such a lack of this blanket belief,

extracts a mighty toll: I pay.

The cost is high, I do agree.

The road is rough, the pot holes I do still fall in.

The chance I take to be free,

I give not thought to me.

To be free from sin is the way I've done,

since my own begin.

Gingerly I warn to those,

who think that these roads aren't worn.

Not only are they not repaired,

but many lives are lost out there, not one that I have seen has been spared.

For holding the same or similar belief,

each one that I did know in person,

we were blessed with the wisdom to be.

Our fortune came with this simple note

our lives, they were not free.

One day, I may or will protest.

I need to hold still long enough to face,

all that happened, all those Cons.

I witnessed, I did protest.

Although I am only one now,

a single being it's true.

I understand the study of the land which I do live.

It only takes one to change,

the Worlds view today

of all the Masses and not just a few.

For this challenge of life itself,

I simply say, "I do."



The Sundown of a best friend named Eden

I am in loneliness of pain itself.

Never knowing that with age brought death.

My Best Friend, Eden Sundown no longer lives,

he hanged himself at home.

Alone I am, so many gone, not even one Comrade left,

to sit and watch this life of ours,

my tears are all my own.

The need or want to speak leaves me

with each passing day that sadness grows.

These feeble words or verses here,

just attempts at redemption to plea.

My thoughts are torn,

his demise is felt, in heaviness and fear.

Who thought that he would take his life,

all be it, it was his choice to do.

Society screams, it does declare,

such rules and horrors,

I'm scared.

I worry for his Soul!

Do you keep your Heart?

These are not worries for the faint of heart,

I just worry in silence, I have from the start.

I sent a letter to the ones,

I thought could offer solace.

The Dali Lama is to old,

and India was not so bold, no contact or rapport.

My quest for such did end with this,

I sought no more advice.

Such bounds or prices he must pay,

upon this one lost life.

I wish to be the debtor here,

to pay the price for he.

For Best Friends we will always be,

he'd do the same for me.

I give up not at all to do the right thing that I think.

Should you be subject or feel such loss,

I wish for you the best.

It's difficult enough to feel, is this just a test?

To Consider the Shock of the Light and the Dark

Lightning, Thunder, Nature Rolls,

a natural riddle rhymes.

With salt & pepper, a super wealth,

no country desires this stealth.

I glide into humanity.

The view is of a Sty.

I look to see it is not me

and guide myself from thee.

In such naked exposure,

a shot to never take.

Will my life turn over

or does the Clover make......?

Prepare for bedtime stories,

of flights in life not made.

Dream at night of what you'll be,

while I bow out so gracefully.

No Deed will go unpunished.

No Song will ever play.

In what a life of strife has done,

no interest: I am threw.

An easy and a planned escape,

look out for past mistakes.

Don't point the finger at each other!

I heard four point you.

I'd ask for an opinion,

but, so many judge this road.

Perdition was a Movie.

My life, I try to live.

Although I seem to just exist.

Do not knock this path I'm on.

I do believe you must do this

before you try to row.

To try to do or complete such feats,

will prove to be a song.

Getting on with all you must,

I levy,

"Who do you trust?"

Questioning does not beg itself!

It's the indifference that is in between.

Spouting out your next move,

"Do you play Chess with Life?"

So easily you count; You do!!

Make sense to me?  "I don't think so."

The noise between us seems to grow,

while yelling out the score.

Do you stop to smell a Rose?

How does this plan strike you?

Complaining words is all I hear,

it streams across everywhere.

To end the madness one final time,

will cause most skin to crawl.

Spout out the reasons to listen to

on how it's treason due.

Be not the voice that needs to speak.

Leadership is more!

The greater a person walks to be,

the less the fight in Me.

Falter at Never

Children need no appeal.

An ear, a voice, a stand,

most definitely.

For at that point, no genius helps.

For what good would such a talent be?

When crushed by family.

A heart to give, a soul to take,

it is easier to say these days.

The years have passed; blindly I stare.

At nothing, but, "I'm hosed."

A cold and hardened plight,

it does grow rather old.

So many years to put away,

all before my 18th birth arrived.

When Legal hit a freedom fight

to breath the air of might!

Hours never passed, the minutes held the time.

In negativity I did count

the seconds of my wealth waned.

I found the struggle incomparable.

NEVER, put pen to paper.

Certainly do not speak with voice.

The levity of such a crime

brought beatings with no choice.

My spine is racked with pain.

The daily grind I bare that's mine.

In spite of all of you,

I knew the term....

Begin again.

A Direction of Difference

 

Waiting at the end?

Don't.

No reply is ever needed,

if you cannot rely on any one person to show.

Assumptions seem to layer most of the minds today.

In death you think the same way too.

Your curiosity, it seems,

still does interest me.

Why would "They" be waiting?

A relative, you persist.

Do you take so readily?

That which you hear; Exists?

Why than do you sharply

turn from other words of difference?

Not only do you close your mind,

but, you stop!, to turn away at any and all kinds of different thought of the same or similar.

Renouncing all that is said,

do you even read?

Any word? Or maybe just one?

No, you judge and throw behind this verse,

so blindly you disregard.

Underneath this cruelty

that the critics seem to spew.

Even more of this new dynamic thought,

it just seems to bother you.

Is it the unspoken language heard?

The never written verse?

A Riddle in the making,

or, the unending of perverse?

Could it be the very,

indecent proposal of,

what is not just supposed,

but, spoken and written in Love?

Confusion does not merit,

an interest in my life.

For if you were to tarry,

you would find I'm not so nice.

I charge for all my mights.

I will come both day and night.

I am so simply bored,

with assumptions and the more.

It seems there's always digging:)

A delightful excitement breeds,

not just for the anxious,

but for the curious I see.

Fight the impending tide,

of all that read, not type.

You get for free a show from Me

of wonder and delight.

Am I so uptight? A Riddler that just likes?

Of course I must be, but do I sound,

I pose the question lightly,

for I write only, what challenges me, upon this Earth tonight.

I write the words and develop the prose that causes so much strife.

Do you ever seek?

That which is "The Meek?"

For if you do not possess,

a talent or a test,

than left you are for all of them

and Death is left for Me.

Assisting A find

Adoring what?

A question for whom?

No calls, never answer,

a voice not heard.

You will miss, not.

A heart beat: No sound.

A rhythm not felt.

Walking into a set-up?

Forward facing recommended.

Life, Death, Existence?

Which one frowns upon a self-made being?

Reading Mans words fills the voids.

Writing ones thoughts, is it a sin?

Dependent upon the stimuli?

Everyday a vixen.

Abhor?

No better... No worse.

The ready pace,

neck in neck,

down to the wire we go.

It's by a nose.

A winner?

I loose.... once again

I do not fraught at such a task,

better lucky than good any day!

To not win.

I ponder nothing in this turn,

a rival is gained.

A site upon what could change.

Look upon my Sunrise, not my Sunset.

You are a Founding Sire.

A friend found, a target sought,

no loss in a photo finish.

I gain the sight of so much more

by proposing a HALT, not charge.

An Equine term to salivate

for a clever is a bit.

My poll is soft, I foam.

Could the stance of a rider be such?

To mount a horse astride myself,

not for the faint of heart.

For that is not a Lady's call;
Side Saddle is what I do recall.

Sexual thought bounds this tact,

the bending of the novel approach.

I dare not!

Please, re-coach!!

The stars I see in wonder-dust

 I plea to the dream of never.

I enter the room: Ride me.

Kindly I listen to hear.

I Implore for more?
A term to serve,
a prospective job to look forward too.
I yearn for tomorrow and yet I am still in this day.

The Mire Of The Lonely One

The isolation of one's needs

requires little when alone.

There in lies the death of so,

inquiry's were few.

Solitude doth desire,

no person to be told.

Where does this person now exist,

if All were in the "Know."

The Arch of such demonic toll,

'rounds the World today.

The slavery of many warn;

"do not go this way."

Not One will listen,

but, Two will go,

drug out in Chains and broken links:

To past mistakes; don't blink!!!

The changes to the clock presents

your guilt to know such guise.

Do snuffs exist? Or do you lie?

Each time you print your list.

A count of three,

it takes from thee,

leaving you............. thrice?

A cycle of: Entice.

If you do, then I'll be "knew."

The dollars will be nice.

To think upon what will be lost,

is simply; "Roll the dice"

A win declared for most is paired

with what happens to the solo, torn.

Who will care? The devious impaired!

By nothing that's not a vice.

Trapping what will cry so loud

be heard, exampling too.

Not for Me, I did get through

the screaming and the reap.

The tripping of my simple mind,

blew away and loosened the bind

upon my being of Truth.

For sake of the hidden booth.

A Title To Pain

As I sink into this divide,

the darkness of the pitch on this night's display.

The mystery of what may seem sleek:

to shun the difference between.

Left & Right

is to know death from life.

Cover your eyes before you see,

the discomfort of my soul.

It aches while not at home

in another lies the store.

Clinging not to what may be,

I cannot even tell.

What for?

The win of the Immortal!

Fighting what is not ever known.

The pain within each one,

personal and held discreetly,

I plead!!

Know the distance of your cry.

It screams the delight of only time,

ticking across this Riddler's path,

I'll never need:  I'm blind.

Scorching heat has passed along

the smear of the Midnight Hour.

As in long ago, the ghosts of low declare:

Creeping steadily in, so slow, I tow.

The deepening of the blue sea

likens itself to me.

Kindly, I respect its wonder,

illusion and the grandeur.

To ripen in the years it takes

to comfort an Old Soul.

He glances upon the she.

Bringing title's to all of Thee.

The Truth or "The Consequences" of War?



As we plod along, I ponder my existence upon Mother Earth.  Appreciative of my ability to still breath, I can slow my pace to a steady crawl across the floor.  Exhaustion fills my being and yet like a Machine, I continue.  The ready pace of any pulse beating rock song, shocks my heart into pumping out the beat so that my life begins again.

The beat of a brand new Hymn.

Musically challenged, I sing to the howls of the Moon.  Looking only for the Mate of my Calling and finding that he too is held in the brief instance that the chill of reality seems to deliver to you when you blink.  Looking around, a normal, yet seldom seen reaction to extreme trauma, I wonder.  Do you ever look at the Sun and say, "Thank you for being so bright and warming me tonight?"

Amazement at the walk of Humanity into darkness and despair Halts Me!  Why are "The People" so willing to sell out anyone for their well-being?  Do they not realize that in life, Death is watching and in Death, Life is carrying on with its daily grind, called, business.

I must respect the Men and Women that have belief.  I see that type of passion in only one place on this planet.  It is the curious part of myself that raises the eyebrows of most anyone it seems.  I am prevented from doing what comes naturally to me on a daily basis.  Instead I am hammered with questions. So, once again I must move my place of residence. 

I will one day find that these simple things that I have written down will be the words that move me around to convey to you and many others that fighting for existence is not a waste of time.  For without existence you cannot learn to live.

One day I will wrap my arms around whom shall be the one that decides I'm not such a bad person.  This Man will bring the relief that I need, a partner in crime so to speak. At least that is my hope.

Believe it or Knot!!

A young child came into my home in Mill Valley and placed a picture on my Frigidaire.

It stated, "My Mom is beautiful too."  A drawing of her was under what was so written.  It was a lovely surprise to witness upon my return home.  I have written this for your Mother so she may know how much you and your Father must love her. 

 Be strong my new FRIEND, for nothing shall separate you from your boy now.

Choice is a matter of opinion!

Do you have one?

Or, has Fate taken what you only thought you had?

Conveniently, people use this as a Con to excuse their Moral behavior,

or is it the lack thereof.

When put to the test.

You have an excuse and expect a pardon.

All based upon your plea to Humanity!

Just like a Record Player skips,

on a well worn out play;

Your cry is Old and Tired.

At least plea, "A new Defense."

The most tiresome words,

are the ones you repeat with ready response.

I mean, "Why bother to speak?"

You have already judged, condemned and Hung

every Man on this Earth.

You would presume,

to know your case against Man has been heard.

But, now that it has infiltrated both races. 

Why bother to affirm.

Who is to know! Who is who?

I wouldn't know, "You all scare me!"

"Run"

But, my feet won't go.

I seem stuck,

a spectator in a Show!

You can't be Fat!

You can't be Thin!

You can't be Ugly!

You can't be Cute,

let alone Beautiful!

Who makes these final calls?

Just curious: Cause I could loose a pound or two.

I've been sick, Homeless, Heartbroken 

Maybe my body is a body that is broken or my emotions are exhausted.

I tried to give those emotions away when I was a kid,
the day I gave my Heart to my eldest sister.

But, I guess they stayed.

Back to the Body Image thing!

I would have been considered acceptable or O.K.,

a Century or two ago.

Bummer I missed my time.

However, there is a reason for everything,
or, at least that is what I've heard.

So, maybe with a little luck,
some day, some Man will think that I am acceptable again.