Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Contrary to rumor, beautiful men get lonely, too.

Who am I to assume Prince Rogers Nelson was lonely. After having lost his babyboy soon after his birth, I can only imagine the devastation; an heir gone much too soon.

Remember when his father, John L. Nelson, forewarned him, “You plan to marry? . . . don’t ever get married.” I don’t think Prince ever forgot that haunting advice. Who could?

As much as he may have internalized it, though, he didn’t allow it to deter his free will. A young man becomes a man when he makes his own decisions and faces the results. Prince was his own man.

I wonder if he ever found peace. Inner peace. Sure, being a genius in one’s artistry, which he was in every sense of the word, is the easy part. I mean, ask Michael, ask Steve Jobs, ask Kobe and Tiger.

It’s the “life” part that, where, the devil is in the details.

I mean, when one has attained a bounty of fame and fortune, how do you truly measure the sincerity, the integrity, the genuineness of another’s heart, their intent?

Celebrity can’t help but breed suspicion—I imagine. I mean, a man of assets, a woman of affluence, can ill afford to be naive in the affairs of the heart, no? Hence, the loneliness. Lurking there, somewhere, in the sanctum. Does it ever truly go away?

Man, I hope Prince didn’t pass away with loneliness in his heart. For he gave legions of music lovers around the globe every ounce of what his Maker had bestowed to him: Love.

I’m sad. Not so much that Prince is gone; his body, mind and soul are now at holistic peace. He’s up there now getting ready to put on a show with his idol Jimi Hendrix. Imagine trying to get tickets to that performance!

I’m sad because, as much as a genius is said to be born somewhere on Earth each day, who’s gonna measure up to Prince and Michael, in whom love and humanity were the very essence of their creativity?

Gosh, we’ve lost another of our giants, love. Prince Rogers Nelson may well be the last of that very rare breed of life enhancer unparalleled.

I want you to come over this evening. We’re going nostalgic. I’m pulling out the VCR from the closet and the “Purple Rain” VHS tape.

I’m hand-tossing a homemade brick-oven pizza and chilling a couple bottles of Cabernet Franc, vintage 1999.

I’m pampering you tonight, woman.

God, pamper Prince Rogers Nelson.

Tender are my thoughts,
Rg2

_______________

***
Heaven hues purple with a paisley-covered gate . . . a Prince is called home, the doves cry, I relate. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Dear Vanessa,

The 60 points of light on a magic-filled night
Some say it was something of a parting gift,
Honestly, I hit those in my sleep—next to you
I leave enough stats for the historians to sift

But the one that matters most to me is the years
You’ve unflinchingly remained by my side,
The mistakes I’ve made, my human flaws
The sacred vow by which we promised to abide

Vitti once said ball, for me, comes too easy
Perhaps, but the countless hours certainly didn’t hurt,
The court was my sanctuary and you my refuge
I knew you wouldn’t abandon me, you wouldn’t desert

The man into whom I could eventually evolve
You proved willing to see this journey through,
Adulation I didn’t seek–respect was my demand
I had to earn yours, Vanessa, I’ve done all I can do

Jordan I was chasing, immortality my private goal
No angles taken, my teammates I cut no slack,
There isn’t a shot I ever took about which I regret
Except what might have been a couple more with Shaq

A selfishness, they said, but greatness toils alone
I poured it all: Blood, sweat, injuries, hidden tears,
A war of attrition I approached that hardwood zone
Determined to expose my opponents’ fears

If I harbored a few, surely no one knew
That one unspoken fear that haunts me still,
That I might lose my anchor in the storms—it’s you
An invaluable partner for this new soil to till:

Kobe Inc., philanthropy, documentaries to produce
Above all, our two most beautiful angels to raise,
This second act of life I cannot do alone
I need you, babygirl, to clear the fog and the haze

Of a purpose yet defined for a life off the court
No other in the world knows better my inner needs,
Mamba’s strike need no longer be deadly
When my chest is cut, it’s your heart that bleeds

Thank you, my Love, your fidelity and strength
For everything this basketball life has put you through,
My commitment no longer divided by hoops and family
I left it all there . . . now this is what I vow to do:

Pamper you and the girls like a father in full
The Black Mamba’s “in,” what more can I say,
Father Time didn’t win–you, my angels, did
We’re going to Disneyland this Pamper-Her-Friday!

Forever yours,
Kobe

______________

***

Romance . . . through the storm . . . lives. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

One is enough for the shareholders meeting
We’ll make it a recreational excursion, feel?
Besides, I don’t want you to mistake obligation
For what is a sweet, harmless pamper-her deal

Looked at Apple . . . and it’s essentially a bank
But Steve the Genius is gone–can they still innovate?
There’s whisper that phone sales will disappoint
And the long lines of yore have begun to dissipate

Even looked at Tesla, the eCar manufacturer
Making clean-tech inroads, have you seen the Model 3?
Some 325,000 deposits at a thousand duckets each
That’s $325M upfront for Musk to deliver . . . we’ll see

Let’s test drive one first—the proof is in the cockpit
And consider the still-not-prevalent recharge stations,
The overwhelming majority of vehicles are fossil fueled
And of course the other makers have rival inclinations

Still, I like Tesla as a disruptor of the status quo
The others are forced to continually up their game,
Like a market of romance writers fighting for lovely readers
If I only attract one, God, let her have your name

Why? Because it takes only one to feel the scribe’s touch
Perhaps she’ll share his creative with a few friends,
Before one knows, a domino is in full effect
And an amelioration of collective life begins

Oh, before I forget, I did another stock study
I like what Zuckerberg and team are doing with facebook:
The Oculus virtual reality headsets are ready to ship
User volume of WhatsApp and Instagram is off the hook

And Facebook Live is TV in the palm of your hand
I’m getting ready to broadcast Romance by Rg2® to you,
If you’ll give me 3 to 5 minutes of your Friday, woman
There’s no telling the sheer magic this creator can do

Yes, some shares of the network I’ve placed in your name
No matter what the market does, we’re holding on,
Why the gift? It’s Pamper-Her-Friday, my lovely reader
Think of it as a small jackpot we’ve mutually won.

________________

***

Pamper the woman . . . just because. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Will you consider a fling to inaugurate spring . . . ?
I sense your winter hibernation’s eager to expire,
The awakener, I, of your flora/fauna spirits
An open-air space where we can gently retire

To hints of warm sun to bathe your bare shoulders
Giving way to flower songs through to an easy dusk,
By chance, are you the owner of a billowy white dress?
Fresh coconut smoothies . . . I’m cracking the husk

Barefoot in the meadow so rich with golden hues
We’ll pick dandelions, relive a second innocent age:
Blowing their feathery crowns aflutter in the wind
Your enthusiasm’s awakened, as far as I can gauge

Photos of you amid the daffodils and marigolds
We’ll pluck and then sample the honeysuckle sweets,
Does it remind you of how carefree we once were
So out of touch we’ve grown from nature’s visual treats

Come, I wanna take you to the edge of Kyle’s Creek
Whispery quiet we’ll be as the birds take their drink,
See the tadpoles and minnows evolving their lives
Isn’t this the perfect hiding to get away from groupthink?

You know, we’re losing these—nature’s geographic gifts
Federal and private ownership their only saving grace,
But development is avaricious and couldn’t care less
God help us our addiction to the relentless money chase

I’m babbling on . . . How are you, truly, angel, how are you?
How’re your mother and father . . . how’s everything going?
Sometimes we lose sight of living from existing
I wanna open my spring with you lest the unknowing

Stay lodged in my mind like the ask I never gave
When February escaped and the Ides of March, too,
Is there a chance of romance in a second spring fling?
We’re deserving of a rendezvous with nature—Part 2

Next Friday?

________________

***
Pamper the woman . . . . -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Can I be your psychiatrist tonight?
I have no other clients—I’m exclusively yours,
Mental debris you need to unload, I can sense
It’s time we attend to the partially open sores

Not yet fully healed—the past has not passed
You carry still the stayed-too-long and exit wounds,
Why did Mr. Right turn out to be Mr. Flight . . . ?
Having left you stranded amid the romantic sand dunes

Your sarong blowing helplessly in the dusty wind
Woman, I’ve got you focused in my binocular lens,
Lost in the relationship desert you’ve been wandering
But I won’t attempt to rectify their past sins

Too heavy a burden, that challenge has no winners
I wanna listen, I wanna learn … the anger, the hurt,
Lay back and relax … we’ll expunge the anxieties
A forum is needed by the most guarded introvert

I know you’re not needy, but bitterness is greedy
Life grows shorter with each cancerous thought,
Big girls don’t cry, oh, what a tender lie
In my emotional safety net you’ve now been caught

Go on, I’m listening, and I believe I understand
It’s quite alright to pause into the flames, very well,
What was it about that decision you now regret?
You were living the limit of your experience, exhale

We can’t go back, unfortunately we can’t
A do-over is impossible, but what about a do-better?
Yesterday a survivor–today I see a thriver
No more bad love investments, no longer a debtor

By all means, lay back, spread your wings and release
Let me pour you a silky warm cognac, I’ll share,
Vignettes of life appear as we gaze into the flames
Talk it out, let it go, I’m listening, woman, I care

I know you’re not needy but lust can be greedy
I’ll keep a safe distance in the middle of the floor,
But, I swear, I’m on the verge of professional violations
A breach would occur only if we open that door

What are you saying, woman, are you sure . . .
Gosh, maybe I’m in need of a little therapy myself,
Must you rest your hand on my chest that way?
You’ve got me talking to myself, I say, “Self . . .

. . . you realize neither of us is a licensed psychiatrist….”
But mutual therapy tonight we’re willing to co-pay,
How is it that you’ve turned the table on me, woman?
We’ve talked enough—Pamper-Her-Friday wants its say….

______________

***

Pamper the woman . . . and she’ll give it back. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Invariably the Pamper-Her-Friday suite is a
G-rated experience … but not on this starry night,
I’m not asking if I can come; I’m on my way
Much more Mr. Passionate than Mr. Polite

When was your last sweet thought of me, woman . . .
Was it Tuesday morning or Thursday late afternoon?
Was your chin resting in your hand—daydreaming . . .
Did my poetry surface during the middle of an iTune?

Did a tingle germinate somewhere navel-north . . .
Or did it uncontrollably crest south of the border?
Did you take a moment to read a post on your phone . . .
Did I appear across the table as the waiter took your order?

Yes, I was there, so figmentally there
I gently napkin-dabbed the corner of your lips,
I blew on your spoonful of matsa soup to cool
Of my spiced cranberry tea you took several sips

You like the taste of me … I’ll make no haste of thee
Why don’t we play this out in real life, in real time,
We’ll explore everything your mother told you not to do
What she won’t know won’t hurt … honey, salt and lime

Stem glass-rimmed confessions and toe-dipped sessions
Who gives a damn if your hair becomes frizzy,
Girl, I’m gonna flesh-pamper you 360 degrees
Then we’ll take it slo-mo, lest you become dizzy

Let me hydro-stretch you and finger-etch onto you
Write poetry on your thigh with soap ink, I will,
Leg-clutch me at the waist and laughing all the while
Whirling you and swirling, we, oh, what a thrill!

I promise: No sudden jerks; I’m giving you all the perks
of a pamperee who’s entered my hidden Shangri-La,
Scalp-to-heel massage, woman, this is no mirage
And you’ve a glute-tickle fetish I’ve discovered . . . aha!

Your giggle is so infectious, your romance so precious
No, no, just relax, I’ll pour the drinks and come to you,
What, you don’t wanna let go so we won’t lose the flow
Well, climb a little higher and squeeze—that’s my cue:

To calibrate and instigate the second phase of our night
Face down, eyes closed … the candles flicker as you lay,
No wish will go ungranted from dawn to morning light
I’m all for you, woman, on this Pamper-Her-Friday.

________________

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

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Why the element of spontaneity?
Some of life’s best moments often go unplanned,
I will savor the eye-speak upon your arrival
I’ll want you to take my extended hand

A gentle pull of you into my embrace
I swear, I can smell your sweet fragrance now,
Did you really do your hair just for me?
Man, you’re clutch on short notice, woman, wow!

I really appreciate your making time for me
You may’ve wondered why I need “us” tonight,
Well, good company correlates to good health
And I couldn’t ask for a greater social delight

But more than a sate of my pleasure jones
I seek your counsel of a business sort,
Have you any knowledge of trademark licensing?
Smart and tight deals sans arbitration or court

A lend-lease arrangement a la Roosevelt
A couple of manufacturers want to be allies,
What’re your thoughts on a George Foreman approach?
A clean, front-loaded pact unburdened by ties . . .

I’m listening to you, your eyes are glistening too
I see the multi-angles of your teeming mind,
The consumer experience is crucial, you insist
Each one should denote her own rare find

Would you write it on this napkin like Rowling’s Potter
I’ll dot your I’s, woman, if you’ll cross my T’s,
Let’s add our hand signatures for good measure
In case you decide to bill me for any legal fees

That smile of yours is rather contagious
But enough about business, I’m ready to play,
Why don’t you open this velvet envelope
After all, angel, it’s Pamper-Her-Friday . . . .

_____________

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

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

What if he responds to your, “Ain’t I a woman?”
with: “That and more . . . all the woman I need,”
What if he nominated you for a platinum Oscar:
Most striking on- or off-camera—you’re the lead

Paying dues you’ve been, yet not getting your due
Are you somewhere between Mary J. and Liv Pope?
Traversing the wilderness of outward validation
Competing against odds with an audacious hope

The finish line is near but the hurdles are ever-tall
What if he extends his hands to offer you lift,
It’s an individual’s race you’ve convinced yourself
But what if you’re susceptible to emotional drift?

Stable feelings this day, vulnerable passions the next
What if he provided a soft landing spot,
His chest as cool as the other side of the pillow
Holding you like the daughters of the late Stuart Scott

Daddy’s not gone; he is risen—reincarnation
What if he simply wants to offer you protection,
To be loyal to you like his forebears in history
When even bondage failed to dampen his affection

Mind if I help you with that . . . Iet me cover your thigh
Allow me to button the shirt so treasure is hidden,
Is it OK if I stand behind you like a shadow in love
I promise not to cross physical barriers forbidden

In celebration of our history, the month’s nearly over
I wanna keep the heritage of my father and his,
Have you found your roots, I’m still finding mine
But I take the example of my uncle and aunt Liz

From lost tribes they descend upon sacred discovery
their Maker enabled, so ennobled was he,
Carried her in his arms across the river to freedom
Woman, I can feel the same river running through me

For this last Pamper-Her-Friday in a very special month
Let it play, let it play, that vintage R&B,
We’ll discover one another as links to a sacred past
We’re the fruit, dreams and hopes of a living history.

__________

***

Pamper the woman . . . . -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Consider it a dilemma you now inhabit
Woman, you’re the eye of my quiet storm,
Self-imposed in the middle of February
The last few days just haven’t been the norm

The table for two stood eagerly reserved
My anticipation met by an empty chair,
I might have easily become unnerved
But I envisioned the flower nestled in your hair

The elegant red dress with black-speckle print
Those deep opal eyes have love stories to tell,
Trust there exists no more devoted listener
This Valentine Whisperer remains under your spell

The bottle of vintage noir has since lost its chill
The white towel-armed pourer asked your whereabouts,
Had you walked in, the room would’ve surrendered
On that assertion, woman, I have no doubts

The theme of our evening, had it come to pass?
Guinness World Record surpassed—times two,
1) The longest, most creative online romance series
2) The only subject to kiss the author . . . it’s you

And I . . . past midnight dancing beneath the stars
Solo piano for the hour, violin chimes next,
What once was apprehension turns subtle greeting
The red box revealed matches the photo text

I find it interesting, you, I’m quietly pinteresting you
Ahh, discovering 50 shades of your idiosyncrasy,
Style, couture, travel and the culinary arts
I can enhance the metrics of your private economy

To spend so meagerly and save so lavishly
Let me intensify the flavor of your artisan cheese,
The monetary moat around the fortress you’ve built
I’ll add water, build a bridge, and keep safe the keys

Oh, the thoughts of a man, if you’d given me your hand
On that 14th winter’s night seems so long ago,
The Learjet awaited on the tarmac, our air chariot
A continent hop to Valentine Isle, so apropos

To what might have been, angel, I’m thinking again
About the perfect red dress and those fantasy eyes,
Mystery remains our dance, piano plays in the dark
Would you consider a post-Valentine reprise?

Stand and respond to your truth, the heart doesn’t lie
Away with apprehension, this feeling you can’t neglect,
I’ll reserve a Pamper-Her-Friday in our mutual honor
Woman, prepare yourself for the Rg2 Effect

Check one and return to sender:

□ Yes, Roy, if you promise to be gentle
□ Yes, Roy, and you’ve been on my mind
□ Damn, Roy, I’m trying to stay focused! Must you make it so hard?
□ All of the above

______________

***

Romance is even better . . . post-Valentine. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®