Monthly Archives: August 2019

Say, a few hours from receipt of this e-missive
Give you, will I, ample time that you may prepare,
Pack a carrybag of the very basic necessities
Light on garments . . . and, please, let flow your hair

Your favored lotions and emollients—I’ll bring these hands
The magic of shea butter lies in how it is applied,
Woman, you’ve an appointment with this mocha man ointment
Tonight I will succeed where other men have only tried

To elicit those long-contained moans from my pheromones
Bottled up far too long have been your erotic instincts,
Unleash your spiritual shouts as I skin-instigate you thereabouts
Provoked by the intrigue of peach schnapps-infused drinks

A hideaway nestled in the lush, tropical forestry
Lung-cleansing oxygen produced by evergreen millenial trees,
We’ll leave the tensions of rapidly gentrifying city life
In-the-buff night swims, oh yes, in the gentle evening breeze

There’s therapy in letting go, woman, this writer should know
Countless hours I’ve studied sexology and touch-ology text,
Though re-enactments are futile when there lacks chemistry
No such problem we’ll have as I show you what’s next:

From-neck-to-ankle bites is how I take it to new heights
Part passive, part aggressive, woman, request your dare,
And if so sweet and fruity is the aroma of the booty
Behold, I may very well refuse to come up for air

You laugh? Go ahead and laugh, for I’m the diligent type
Facilitating her satisfaction comprises my DNA,
Not every woman, mind you, is so fortunate
A precious few have inspired me to gift it away

But there lives this something in the interior of you
And, damn, that luscious exterior is a bonus to boot,
I promise to leave no marks as visual implication
Your reputation as my own? That point is not moot

A romantic three-day weekend beckons us both
Let’s give this summer’s end its proper send-away,
May the time go slow as I bathe you in candleglow,
We’ve only just begun this Pamper-Her-Friday. . .

. . . tonight.

-Rg2

_______

***
Pamper the woman . . . for an unforgettable summer’s romance. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Just long enough to escape with you from North America
To an as-yet-unspoiled paradise of forest, sand and beach,
Where coconuts and bananas grow free from chemicals
My love, a Pamper-Her-Friday utopia is not out of reach

Our flight departs at nine; I’ll be at your doorstep by six
I’m bringing with me a generous hug and a kiss,
If you found yourself smiling as you read that previous line
Woman, you’ve just been enraptured by the Rg2 bliss:

To instigate, not regurgitate, the gray matter of your mind
A seasoned man can make love to a woman without touch,
You’ve been reading my proseworks with many a bated breath
The moisture in your eyes and between your thighs is such

A long-held spritz of latent energy needing release
You’re that mocha woman on whom everyone depends,
The Democratic Party takes you for granted, as does family
Your bones are fragile and, late nights, the muscle ache begins

You know why? The very absence of my therapeutic hands
Has been the antidote you’ve too long gone without,
I’m just the man your body’s been calling for this summer
To pamper your tender limbs is a precious law I won’t flout

Let’s get away . . . from all this domestic terrorism and hate
The country needs more of you and me but, gosh, timeout,
I wanna gather my breath with you, take a moment or two
To revisit what being in the company of a lovely woman’s about

The tropical sunrise greets us in the morning as we lay
Your head rested peacefully atop my chest—angel-like,
Toucans and songbirds morning chirping in the distance
Daybreak poetry I’ll recite to you like a whisperer on a mic

Dedicated to you, only you, it goes something like this:
Were I to inhale the scent of your hair, woman, I dare,
To caress thee, might you hold onto me to infinity
In need of love repair, we both, for truly we care

None more than I of you . . . here, in my arms, I say
No other place I’d rather be on this Pamper-Her-Friday

. . . than with you.

Poetically yours,
Rg2

______

***
Pamper the woman . . . and forever live in her soul. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

That was my initial thought after you at first accepted, then abruptly reneged on your acceptance of my creative-poem challenge to you in behalf of long-overdue reparations for ADOS (American Descendants of Slavery).

I thought to myself, ‘What kind of honorable man goes back on his word, especially for a cause as noble as economically, politically and socially repairing the most forgotten, neglected and mistreated people in the history of the United States, since its very founding?’

I then said to myself, ‘Marianne Williamson can’t possibly be more courageous and more committed to the humanity of ADOS than Dr. Dyson, himself a member of the ADOS community and who traces his very lineage to our uber-brave forebears, the enslaved black Americans whose free labor is the very foundation on which the American economy is built.”

I quelled my emotionalism, Dr. Dyson. Who am I to mischaracterize another man, let alone a fellow ADOS? To say I was disappointed, however, is an understatement. I looked forward to the fun. But more than that? I looked forward to the gift we would have presented to our fellow ADOS—poetry the likes of which no other two individuals, the world over, could have created.

My greatest sadness? That other ADOS, and non-ADOS around the world for that matter, were deprived of your creative advocacy, if only a few stanzas of rhyme and meter, of lyrical alchemy at which even your boy Jay-Z would have likely marveled.

But I won’t question your courage, Dr. Dyson. I won’t question your heart and commitment to the repair of our fellow ADOS. I recognize this is yeoman’s work, arguably the most unenviable task of our people in this most turbulent of political times.

It’s not for the faint of heart. ADOS are on the verge of extinction, according to the data. We could certainly use your advocacy.

No, you’re no coward, Dr. Dyson. If, however, you decide to remove our doubt, my challenge to you is open-ended.

People can evolve, right?

Spit on, professor. Upward and onward.

Creative regards,
Rg2

_______

***
Be afraid to die without having done something for the betterment of humanity. -Rg2

© 2019 Romance by Rg2®