Deanthepoet's profile

Seventh Sense (Erogenous Senses) Eyes are closed. The rocking of the train to and fro feels like my lover cradling me in her arms. Morning has arrived but night still lives in my eyes. The sounds of early morning commuters struggling to get their minds and bodies to embrace a new day is in revolt as they sip on various concoctions of caffeine to stop the mutiny. My lips speak Braille to my steaming cup of caffeine and a quick sip test determines it’s still too hot for consumption. The strong...

Look not to my words To know who I am In between the metaphors, similes Verbs and nouns, they’re merely a futile attempt At unearthing the façade, the mask Beneath the words Listen to the words unsaid Follow the trail of the unfinished sentence Periods are but a pain in the ass annoyance Giving you false hope that there is an end I prefer run on sentences They’re like a jumble of emotions with no direction Or a misspelled word that catches your eye Like a bad accident, You can’t look away it ...

Getting this interview with Jack Bauer of “24” fame was quite harrowing. Through a series of secret contacts, meetings, and promising Chloe O’Brien a state of the art laptop to rule the world, she put me in contact with Jack Bauer. She promised that if I did anything remotely resembling a hatchet job interview on Jack that she would personally hunt me down and beat me like a dog with her furtive looks and sarcastic wit. Under the cloak of night (where else would you find Jack Bauer) we rendez...

Loving Ain’t Easy A man wakes up in Somewhere, USA his body still tired from a hard night of hard labor. He is tired from his life, but there are people depending on him to find the strength to live another day. His wife and three children are the only thing that keeps him going once he walks out the door and into a world which seemingly has no use for him. Light hasn’t yet greeted the morning and their small bedroom is covered in darkness, and sleeping soundly as if she doesn’t have a care i...

Outside it was a blistering winter’s day in Manhattan. According to the weatherman, Al Roker, today would be the coldest day of the year. Inside though, Tara was seated in her cubicle experiencing extreme seasonal changes from fall to winter and now summer’s warmth was giving her heat strokes from the pulsating sun throbbing between her legs. For the past hour, Juan from the mailroom had found a reason to deliver material to Tara’s row that she didn’t even need, but it was his childish way o...