Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 434: ‘Our Flight Leaves at Nine, Love’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (127)


My Angel,

So you feel my work has taken something of a wrong turn?
Veered have I toward the native black reparations cause,
Babygirl, an artist of integrity must reflect the times
Today, however, I’m putting my political ferocity on pause

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,


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

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®


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Posted by on August 10, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Romance by Rg2®: ‘Michael Eric Dyson is Not a Coward’: “The Political Letters by Rg2” (2)


Dear Dr. Dyson,

‘Michael Eric “Dynamic” Dyson is a coward.’

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,


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

© 2019 Romance by Rg2®


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Posted by on August 4, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 433: ‘Are You Fond of a Picnic by the Pond?’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (126)


Dear LaWanna,

Might I be on your mind as the sun descends
On this easy July SoCal summer’s day?
I’m wearing white kakis & a white billowy shirt
Visions of you matching me on Pamper-Her-Friday:

Flowing summer dress, white, adorning your mocha body
Reserved, have I, a space only paces from Lovers Lake,
Edibles and romantic incredibles I’ve prepared for us
Flower arrangement touches I took the time to make

Granted, I’m no florist nor exactly a horticulturist
I’ve kept it as simple as a summer’s evening breeze,
Clarity of mind I intend to engender in us both
Your heart’s been locked all summer but I’ve the keys

To the inner reaches of your most intimate thoughts
You wanna free yourself of those failed loves of the past,
A fresh-over, a do-over, woman, you need a new lover
Babygirl, my hand is slow, methodical, it’s hardly fast

Take it, will you, place it gently astride your soft skin
By all means, rest your chin inside my palms awhile,
You need not say a word if your voice escapes you
I can interpret the language in your closed eyes and smile

Yes, woman, I feel you, this is pure synchronicity
Might there be a confession or two you’d like to reveal?
Mine? I’ve been anticipating the texture of your lips
To kiss a handsome stranger may be the ultimate thrill

What, you don’t kiss on the first date? Aww, shucks, now
Behold, woman, I’m no ordinary fella, this is Rg2,
Never have I coerced a woman into her discomfort
I’d much rather elicit what it is we’re here to do:

Consume champagne, sweet fruits, and one another
Holding you as we watch the summer evening sun descend,
Careful, woman, you may not want to leave my arms
Isn’t it a shame that Pamper-Her-Friday has to end?

Then again . . .

. . . intimacy is even better when dusk sets in . . . .



Pamper the woman . . . and her soul belongs to you. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®


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Posted by on July 20, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 432: ‘Dream ADOS Date by Low Tide’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (125)


Dear Heavenly Matchmaker,

I need an ADOS mocha woman tonight
One whose lineage is slavery and she’s not ashamed,
North American chattel, can she, like my father’s line
For her bottom-caste status, she cannot be blamed

Shoreline table, seats for two at sunset’s low tide
That I may gaze deeply into her optic nerve,
To gauge whether she cares for her oppressed people
Is she a straight-shooter for justice, or might she swerve

When the reparations fight becomes rough and tumble
I want the woman to clasp my hand that much tighter,
“Baby, we will get to the other side together”
A mocha warrioress, damn, that’s sexy, my co-fighter

I need a soft, strong, resilient ADOS woman tonight
Sexual relations, I’ll show her, are not my aim,
But to share strategies for the liberation of our people
That our fires for ADOS redress is mutual—the same

Might a man be so lucky, what, in this sell-your-soul time?
Would she understand that these are days of grace,
My shoulder is a welcome haven for her tender head
It’s quite alright were she to slap my bearded face

For entertaining taking anything less than $15 trillion
Federal protection of our tribe, a census ‘ADOS’ box,
Both an online and offline dedicated economic base
Healthcare that includes as-much-as-needed mental detox

From the centuries-long Post Traumatic Bondage Disorder
Lurking within our wounded-walking and the half-asleeps,
That she sees the homeless are looking more & more like us
That freedom must be repeatedly seized—or away it creeps

Given to others who have in no way endureth
Why have they been bequeathed our ancestors’ wealth?
More than 200 years of uncompensated labor
Mocha woman, we are the disinheritors . . . by stealth:

Crooked laws, avarice, integrity-less leadership
Our righteous claim is myth and hear-say no more,
Our forebears’ bones are kindling to this ADOS fire
A hastily written “universal” campaign pledge: What for?

A mocha ADOS woman, Heavenly Matchmaker, yes
Who’ll accept my hand for a second date—post-Reparation,
No, she won’t owe me another, but that ocean beckons
From agony . . . to ecstasy, to the joy and jubilation

But should this be our one and only summer’s night
Carry my heart, ADOS woman, as you make your way,
To a future for which our ancestors sacrificed their lives
Until we meet again, same table, on Pamper-Her-Friday

Love in the Struggle,


Pamper the woman . . . and repaireth her soul. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®


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Posted by on July 13, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 431: ‘Picnic by the Sea: Romance’s Introduction’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (124)


Dear Meyah,

Is there truth to the prevalent whisper that a majority of women are less than happy in their current relationship—let alone marriage? I dread to think. Say it isn’t so.

Could it be we’re a never-satisfied people? Might it be that she’s seeking an elusive nirvana with him that she, alone, can’t seem to self-generate? Or are our ever-amped expectations of love on the edge of a constant lie?

I haven’t the answers, babygirl. I’m no psychoanalyst. But I am a poet. And, woman, I believe in love. My belief comes with precautions, however. Well, one in particular: How does it feel in my company . . . on a spontaneous picnic . . . on a random summer’s day . . . at the edge of a cliff overlooking a calm, deep, blue sea?

My poem for you:

Rest your body atop my soft-to-touch blanket
Hand-stitched so as not to damage the fragrant grass,
The air’s velocity is tender, so we may share the splendor
A summertime moment has come for us, it has

Tell me where your heart lies at this time, woman
No, the question isn’t loaded—I’m just being real,
Is it on the verge of migration from a cruel host
Few men can interpret a woman’s capacity to feel

Vulnerable yet strong . . . and fragile yet stern
Willing to love, though much less so to trust,
If you entered his life, and he yours, in a haze
The premise was false: relationship or bust?

Nah, babygirl, that mustn’t be how love goes
I can speak from experience, I’ve made mistakes,
I regret not sharing a simple, elegant picnic with her
Having written, alone, my poetry by the ponds and lakes

That have since dried up from a benign neglect
Summer rain, by God, has replenished a few,
I promised myself were I to cross the path
Of a distinctive woman, I’d know just what to do . . .

Slowly, maturely, less cautiously would I
Allow her my company and the privilege of hers,
To share the warmth of an early summer sun
That she may release her truths and if that occurs

Mine, too, will be less inhibited to pour
Into the summertime air that we share on a cliff,
The seaside view we can freely speak into
Just breathe on me girl as I take a slow, deep whiff

Of your fragrance and a gaze into your story-filled eyes
My name is Roy, as was my father’s, too,
May I feed you the comestibles I brought—and my prose
I’m an emotional writer, girl, may I emote on you?

Like no other man alive can, I swear I can
Relinquish those fears you’ve harbored overlong,
If love letters are foreign to you, that neglect is past
Consider this poem the first of a throng . . .

Slowly, maturely, less cautiously can we
Introduce ourselves to one another and say,
It’s okay, it’s truly okay to befriend this writer
Over a cliff’s-edge picnic on Pamper-Her-Friday

Will you join me?



Pamper the woman . . . for a summer’s romance. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®


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Posted by on June 28, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 430: ‘If Only For A Night: An Idea by Rg2’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (123)


Dear LaJuana,

I set a table for three for this evening: You; I; and romance.

But before I unleash this intense-yet-tame testosterone upon every crevice, nook and cranny of your mocha body, I’d appreciate your ear on an idea that has consumed my creative mind all day.

Michael Eisner, the former head of Disney global, once said the best ideas can be expressed in a sentence. Here’s mine, love: A make-up/lipstick consumer, in the market to buy, clicks on the Pamper-Her-Friday video channel, to gaze at the latest cosmetics made just for her. On her phone/tablet/desktop, her face appears on the screen; a hologram of her face’s exact dimensions, along with samples of make-up/lipstick, some her favorite brands, others new.

She, via virtual/augmented reality, “tries on” the various products to determine the perfect shade, gloss, hue and/or tint for her unique face. Boom: she chooses what looks best and clicks to purchase product. No need to visit a brick/mortar store to buy the product(s); no gas wasted on a drive to the mall.

The hologram, which is an exact replica of her face, reflects her cosmetic choices for trial. She chooses and buys exactly what she wants without mistake and without having to return an ill-chosen product.

What do you think, love? I’ve already applied for a patent of the idea—it wasn’t yet conceived/taken. Once cleared, we’ll be sitting on a handsome revenue-generator for years and years to come.

This is the age of ideas, after all. And I have another that will presage this cloudy, overcast, unusually cool, Southern California evening before us, this first official day of the summer season: How about I split the patent profits down the middle with you . . . on one condition?

That I may nestle in-between those thick, sweet-scented thighs of yours into the night . . . and simply refuse to come up for air?

Unless I just have to . . .

. . . on Pamper-Her-Friday.

Please come, love.



Pamper the woman . . . for beginning a summer’s romance. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

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Posted by on June 22, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 429: ‘Return of the Candlelight Poet: Yours Tonight’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (122)


Dear Sensual Woman,

Forgive me my absence.

Two months have transpired void of my heart’s writings. Allow me to compensate for the unintended disappearance.

My body is in a state of craving—I need you tonight. I need you to inhabit my thoughts, my fantasy, my very bare-naked soul tonight.

Are you available this evening? No, are you emotionally available? I need the unadulterated, mentally unoccupied you, woman. Tonight. My poetry? Please read further:

Flirting with temptation is worth the risk
I must insert the Sade, Cherish the Day disk

Take me, will you, to your secret pre-summer garden
Should you misinterpret my night kiss, beg my pardon

The body fragrance inherent to you, god, I gladly surrender
All I ask of you tonight? Please don’t be a pretender . . .

Fake not that helpless, pit-of-your-belly flutter
My erotic bravado has me parting the cheeks like butter

Spread to utter perfection, allow me to go to work
Like a skin yeoman bringing gifts—and the ultimate perk:

Warm, gentle oil over these outsized hands
Woman, you’re the crux of my Pamper-Her-Friday plans

Panties are superfluous, yes, indeed, they are
My apologies if my touch leaves your sweet mouth ajar

Have your way with me, this erotic, hypnotic writer
Tonight your designated, exclusive poetry reciter

Has come back to the sacred environs of your soul
To reaffirm I am your one and only lover, my goal

Forgive me my absence as I ignite the candlelight
It’s Pamper-Her-Friday, woman, and I’m all yours tonight . . .




Pamper the woman . . . like an erotic reminder. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

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Posted by on June 8, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday

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