Wednesday, November 29, 2017



PROLOGUE: By Bigdaddy Blues

Difficult as it is to capture the emotional essence of what we believe to be true love in plain words I believe we must at least make an attempt to do so. The documentation and study of love is the most neglected science in twenty-first century culture… Love it might be argued, is practically completely ignored if not altogether mistaken for sex…

But every man who has been fortunate enough to experience the very best of both love and sex will agree they are related but otherwise remarkably different creatures in their own right… 

I do not seek to define either love or sex through poetry, that would be impossible. Love and sex are as uniquely branded as the two or more people who share in them… this means that the role of poetry is rather to document the experience. If any definition for love or sex exists it would be credible only as a purely explicative tool fashioning a virtual but esoteric model of life. A poem like a newspaper conveying a story about something someone did should pull the reader into the very soul of an event that is already past or future history.

When I write about love, and this poem is mostly about love with accessory sex… I aspire to tell the audience what I learned about love and of course sex… It is as much a training manual as it is a fanciful mirage intended to freeze my memory of something profoundly moving and inspiring… I write about love because it is always upon my mind and when it is not a dark and story reflection as in this case it can actually be quite gay… pardon the pun… most important it is the documentation of a real experience.

So what I am saying is that I enjoy the sensory dynamic of my man… spending quality time together close and intimate. Our response to one another is mutually enchanting but it is a magic based in real life practicality. In other words we are both sexually and spiritually compatible… After years of painful experimentation with appeasing the worlds opinion of our relationships we have both decided to ignore the extra-social dynamic and spend the energy previously squandered there on understanding and appreciating one another. Since we are both mature men the prospect of living out our lives together is far more poignant and the reality of both our mortality is a reality we cannot ignore… This makes our journey all the more serious and at the same time it is cause to make the ultimate concession to each other’s truths… If this is the man I think he is I look forward to growing old with him and dying with him as my last and ultimate earthly love…


As long as my man's, ebon-skin and the many handsome parts of him,
touch me, or lay near,
i’ll be a lion basking in recumbent bliss,
adoring the aparitif-cocktailed-whispers of his vernal kiss…

Because I know the timbre of his heart,
is but the gentle stroke of a chamelion’s brush,
fond of painting a joyous landscape,
upon the strata of my soul…
composing a familiar roar twixt loves intermittent hush…

Our un-solicited program boasts a seasoned cast of volcanic affections,
erupting from the lusty ambitions we’ve molded,
into gentlemanly doses of sexual nonfiction,
each climactic episode defines a rustically masculine cinematic direction,
keen to dramatize erotic hallmarks subtly floated above evidentiary detection…

My man and I have disobeyed the worlds intrusions, so our anonymity may replace the pretense of illusion,
freed from life's circus I’ve decided to always make him smile,
Rejecting love’s burgeoning basket of promises but for his,
believing the years will martyr me for trying,
Should I live to find my peace with him… I shall rejoice in it whilst dying...


Saturday, October 14, 2017




When y’uh come a court'n,
please walk past my door,
don’t y’uh come a'court’n,
cause I don’t love y’uh no more,
I guess that is the reason I am a lonesome man,
Content with cryin I ain’t even try'n t'uh score...

Love has got me hide'n,
but I still got my pride,
keep’n my pain inside and,
I can’t look int’uh my lovers’ eyes,
love stop pushin me t’uh try, another time,
I gotta tell y'uh before I love again I’’ll  die…

Love is like a sleep-walk,
without no road or shoes,
I says love feel like a sleep-walk,
d’aint no road or shoes,
e’ry time I goes that way my heart gets abused,
lawd I swears I ain’t playin roun no mo w’id dem sho-nuff blues,
I thought love would save me,
but t’ain't never been my friend,
betrayals have enslaved me,
haunting my soul again and again and again…
I’m consigned t’uh solitude,
till my final days,
while memories of sweeter times,
wash the bitter ones away...
When I sees it comin,
y’uh know what I mean,
man I starts a runnin,
so far it can’t be seen,
ain’t no lovin good enough a'n I ain't  addicted t’uh the stuff,
can't no sweet romancing make me stay,

Now don’t you go undress’n,
For I find I'm inclined t'uh look,
an lawd what an eye-bless’n,
sept I’d never bite the hook,
a'int trying t'uh pay no bills for d'hem midnight thrills,
baby you will notice nothin a’int been took...
Love can never find me,
cause I ain’t in nobody’s news,
love will never find me,
I can be quiet if I choose,
I walks too slightly for any pleasure that delights me,
t’uh turn me inside-out without a doubt I got the hideout blues…

One day love could save me,
though It’s never been my friend,
betrayals and lovers envy,
haunt my soul again and again and again…
man if I could trust your heart,
it might find me free,
growing memories in sweeter times,
washing the bitter ones away...


Sunday, July 30, 2017



I kissed you in places that invited you to moan,
then discovered access was not mine alone,
but I could not suffer men who had visited before,
Just their rumour keeps me from visiting anymore…


Thursday, June 8, 2017



After chilled-goblets have kissed and lay emptied,
when heart-shaped dalliances reservoir evidence of recent plunder,
then the slow-waning spirit of our lost-effervescence is cut asunder,
by recollections of distant, brilliant moments when we were more gaily arrayed with love...

O’ but to be so arrayed in a celebrated fashion when by our emotions we are formed into a fleeting masterpiece of unscripted passion, O’ to lay upon seduction’s very bed displayed... its a kind of instantaneous stardom that cannot be underplayed, a statement celebrated many lifetimes before it has been made…

Who would not like to know how to be that archetypal bas-relief of o’er-embellished, earthly pluperfection… in Edenistic repose, freshly defoliated and unencumbered by external fetters, naked unto a wisdom that realizes how much less can actually be better, cool but not overly self-conscious, not unbelievably suited to exceed rigorous inspection…
to be serene as each naughtily-entangled escapade unwinds, to explore uncovering more of lifes undocumented, erotic finds, at least that was how we were ere fates cooling fever bent our minds toward comparative reflection, ere sex and its philosphic rival love cut and set before our scrutiny entirely different cosmologic transverse and longitudinal sections, love was lost in a battle of critical-masses in-between the two or so infinitesimal directions it simply vanished! if for no other reason than because its mojo had no garantees or surplused protections…
we found that love was not exempt from the corrosive inevitabilities of corporeal-clay…
it matteted not to be cleverly spoken with a handsomely seductive inflection, gifted with a manly eloquence confident in its expression…
we longed again to be blessed with non-decay, sweeter every day, inviolate,  sumptuously talented at erotic play, posessed by a full-moon lust lasting into  day and e’er coming back to stay… to stay..
O' how sensuously grand it is to understand a players most talented argument, orchestrated for the aquisition of virtual trophies, won in a tournament of lovely things to say... but fortified at the end of the day, with a genuine gentlemanliness forged to overpower orgasmic fever, even when brewed with the blessings of a bed-shaking session… in the throes of a genital-induced testosterone-aggression, penetrated by the pinnacle of manly expression, living up to a mandingo legend carved from the fat of celebrated moans, ceiling-piercing ecstacy-screams and seductive overtones, enamored of the densely coagulating, vaporising lust-musk of mutual arousal, preoccupied with the utterance of un-metered gasps poured liberally o’er sex-sweated linens,  

There was a time when i was otherwise too focused on the prize to litter random commentary away, there being no lovers manual i am copelled to betray what silence has built as an art to keep eavesdroppers at bay, but there is nothing harmful for the nameless to say, who bring only the handsomest pleasure to my day...
Cheers to an unbridled lustiness too intrinsic to be an obsession, too natural to qualify as a lesson and too distant now from our pathetic ritual to expect a sympathetic rekindling, the romantic re-enactment of a love whose absence magnifies its distance from the habitual, our love has degraded to a soul-less malaise trapped in a bottles bottom as a dense bitter residual...

What is more, love has been absent too long to elicit pain and yet still speaks to an un-quenched yearning that laughs ironically midst the refrain,

But a rusty soliloquy manages some poigniant utterances evoked more as a lesson to lovers written in the thoughtful moments of dying days that says...

Empty bottles belie captive happinesses when released,
may not represent the expected and uncertain outcomes of wine,
wise lovers tend to rely on more reliable signs distilled from sexier times, farmed from healthier vines,
whose less-sober details do not conveniently evanesce when poured…
retaining most of the seductive profile that famously tempted each thirsty habit presented deliberately as a magicians rabbit marketed to titillate a lusty pallette rendering it pre-aroused as a stealth feature accessory to being lured...
Therefore, when life flows it’s vital vibrancy should be attended, for this reason provocateurs of cute naughtinesses come highly recommended, under their tutelege a soft, leisurely decadence is happily defended, offended by nothing save on the occasion that frolics should be prematurely suspended by prudence decorated as the most convenient wisdom thst can be ptetended…
Life knows only to continue spilling untill notified that it is ended, for the river it is preserves no instinct for conservation, extinguishing itself at the same time it effervesces in a glorious conflagration… after ever staging one last magnanimous cessation, as if death more so than love were mans last and most meaningful act of universalization…
The unknown promise of death threatens every breath and like the uncertain status of love paints indecipherable murals upon the firmament of life, without deference to the fates, its elements meander for eternities beyond the quaint embankments we occasion,
flirting with different shores as a glint of lapping waves gainst sun and moonlight with nautically-blown kisses... there is the burning and meaningful element an extinguished love misses!

Soliloquy ended!

Mostly our love has degraded from a visionary ceremony to an obsequious game a symbolic love mistaking habitual proximity for sacred intimacy once culled from the source where love was mined… its essence departed leaving no latent clues, nothing remains of the elements from which old passions were refined, we breathe the wind of a new situation and the past is a stepping stone to rejuvenation its deed is drawn and we have only to sign…
I say, nothing remains of the elements from which old passions were refined,
save an abandoned love  and the trappings it left behind, it is a ruin licked-away by time becoming the sullen scene of an after-valentine…


we’ve witnessed as pledged-affections are conquered,
by avoidable circumstances guided into being
we wonder how could old affections be forgot
denoting precisely what love is not!

Sunday, January 15, 2017



On a time if my partner, (or whomever I was having sex with at the time), did not immediately comment that our sex-session had been amazing I’d have concluded they did not enjoy the sex. I had every aim to please and since back then I was as they say, “Young, Dumb and full of... well… you know” I’d immediately re-start my engine and get back to the good work of pleasing my partner(s)!


A lot has transpired since those days of inexorable sexual robustness. Back then I’d imagined that I had a reputation to uphold. Today the erotic landscape is stratified much differently. There is a psychological, spiritual and physical buy-in, a “Trilogy” if you will not unlike for example, Experian, Equfax and TransUnion, the three credit bureaus whose combined/averages scores tell us what our credit-worthiness is. The sexual trilogy works the same way telling us what our sexual happiness is, it is an averaged-score of the psychological, spiritual and physical elements of sex which interface to produce a final sex-rating. Do you know what your sex rating is?


The psychological element of sex is the most fundamental and instinctual process. It governs whether we are initially sexually attracted to a person. It acts as a sensory device that processes inputs such as appearance, olfaction, touch sound and taste. 

The spiritual element of sex varies greatly because it requires an interpersonal connection that goes far beyond the physical and emotional, it is an intangible dynamic that ignites a unmistakably powerful fire which continues to burn even after sex. The spiritual sexual fire burns more intensely with each successive sexual encounter. 

The physical element of sex is the practical and utilitarian application of sexual styles and rituals and arsenals within a dynamic motivated and orchestrated directly from the psychological and spiritual elements of sex. 

So how does this academic efflorescence explain in simple terms what good sex consists of? Good sex is a balance of the sexual-trilogy and this means simply that it takes positive sexual chemistry to create good sex! Nothing could be simpler to understand. Theoretically then the more we allow ourselves to cultivate a depth of power in the regions of psychological, spiritual and physical expression the better and richer our sex will be.

Being a pragmatic man I believe in the power of practical experimentation. This means in order to really understand the sex-trilogy theory you have to applying it while having sex. Sex should never become a clinical thing. Human sexuality is all about doing the damned thing, having a good time, taking pleasurable notes then extrapolating the data in order to surmise what works to create a better, healthier more fulfilling sexual experience. The wonderful thing about sex is you’ve simply got to have more sex in order to get it right!

First of all there is no perfect score. Sex cannot be rated really as it is such a subjective phenomenon. It is difficult even to compare one sexual encounter to the next because the variables encompassing them are bound to be so vastly different. Learn to accept sex for what it is and walk away from it with the experience you get knowing that you put your best effort into making it as enjoyable as possible. My best advice for those instances when sex is not enjoyable is simply to stop, get dressed and walk away! you do not have to explore all three elements if you find a happy medium with one or two of them. Don’t be afraid to add an element you may find that it really does play a big part in your sexual fulfillment. I recommend to just be honest about what you like sexually and experiment! Experiment! Experiment!

Borrowing a famous line from the vintage espionage TV series Mission Impossible:



Gentlemen, your mission has been assigned. Remember that only you can define what makes good sex but in order to be successful you should experiment with the sexual trilogy if only to add variety to your sex life. Good luck and many happy sessions!

Written By: Bigdaddy Blues


Friday, December 23, 2016


I meant to be naughty,
having kept an unpublished list,
of handsome desires…..
that flirted with my lips,
remaining yet un-kissed….

I lay awaiting offerings,
from votive lovers promises,
of softly denuded gifts…
set upon my passion,
in a fashion like festive garnishes…

Then a smile of arousal,
broke my gentle calm with mischief,
and dedicated cheer…
that kissed my body,
with a very sexy christmas gift…


Wednesday, August 3, 2016



When circumstances lead a married man to explore the dating world of gay men there is legitimate reason for the single gay men he encounters to wonder why. But why? Indeed why not? I’ve refreshed my double old fashioned glass with a handsome pour of bourbon to help me answer just that question. Should you do likewise I assure you it would be an observance of best practices… I should not assume straightway there is anything wrong with dating a married man as long as all parties involved are satisfied with the outcome. By all-parties I am referencing the married man, his male/female partner and the single gay man completing the cast.

Many people tend to categorize the intimate arrangement also known as an open relationship as  problematic assuming it constitutes a fundamental evil. Typically this assumption has been made without actually vetting out the circumstances at hand. That would require a more intimate understanding of the human variables involved consisting of facts and emotions which are unavailable to the casual observer. For this reason it is best to ignore dogmatic biases when evaluating human lifestyles. It could take an ideological transformation for some people to objectively comprehend the interpersonal dynamics.  But it could only make sense if it were accompanied by a basic familiarity with the specific circumstances that defined the relationship. For this reason I have always kept my distance from gossip…

There are two types of open relationships but only one of the two qualifies as actually open. When a married man cultivates a relationship with a single gay man without the knowledge or consent of his partner he has established a blind-open relationship. When a married man establishes a relationship with a single gay man with the knowledge and consent of his partner he cultivates an open relationship.

Transparency is the mature, civilized way to cultivate an open relationship. If you look closely it is clear that such an arrangement in spite of its tendency toward public admission is truly a personal phenomenon. Its inner sanctum typically exists as a covenant between two primary partners one or both of whom initiate sub-contracts with additional parties in a pyramidal matrix leaving the primary couple at the top of the food chain. As exotic as this may sound it is actually quite typical of the singles world regardless of sexual orientation. The model, simplified as a triangle relies on each person for structural and emotional stability and for this reason the entire ménage must be evaluated from a triple parallax. To some that is its fatal complication. To others it defines the threshold to simplicity. The pyramid necessarily excludes some parties from full access to the cache of associative benefits, whatever those may consist of but that is also an integral part of the buy-in.

Consider this poetic fable: 
“A married man, his spouse and a single gay man are performing an impressive tabletop dance. The two table legs barely sustaining the vigorous show hazard a glimpse of the ensuing, precarious fate when the two legs break under the weight of the three dancers. The drunken crowd watches noisily waiting for gravity to end the show revising an old, outdated phrase, “it takes three to tango… but WHOA!”.”

As a mature gentleman in my early fifties I have noticed an increasing frequency in propositions from married/committed men the identites of whom shall of course remain a mystery. To this unexpected but much appreciated attention I now raise a toast! Flattery however shall get a handsome sigh of regret since I have never had the temperament to follow up on all the offers. Like my single, gay brothers who I am certain absorb the majority of these entreatments I find myself wondering where this trend comes from, where it will and could go; does anyone know?

Just for the record I have consistently rejected these offerings primarily because it contradicts my gentlemanly ethics and it unbalances the positive nature of the spiritual karma I have worked so handsomely to cultivate. Let me clarify that my personal choice has nothing to do anyone else’s, with either religion or any specific brand of blind-faith, it is not a penance suffered to absolve past sins of the flesh. I find it quite sexy to know I have past sins of the flesh… they validate me as a normal, sexual being. That being clarified allow me to affirm that if I ever slept with a married man, (and I have), I made it the most enjoyable fall from grace a brotha could ever survive…. Cheers to that revelation because while living my life I’m not adding up my sins I am simply enjoying them?

So what does a brotha do when propositioned to digress from his good common sense? Does he call his father for gentlemanly advice, does he consult his well-worn first-edition of Emily Post? He just has to look the married men in the eye and let him know where he stands! But before you do be certain you know where you stand!

Were it not for the singular fact every married man has already betrothed their plight, an unfortunate and tragically poetic  Shakespearian folly,  I should certainly invite them to make the most creative  love our imaginations could conceive. If you agree please raise another toast!  “To indulgences! may they all be orgasmically sexy!”

To be erotically honest I do look forward to breaking my own rules on occasion, to moral deconstructions and ethical erosions as they make for an interesting memoir. Also they serve to keep our egos in perspective reminding us that we are imperfect. A well planned sin here and there works to balance the equation wherein man measures himself against notions of perfection. Erotic keepsakes housed in the mind become handy when sex is but a memory... if we are fortunate enough to live that long we will see…

Whether by  mature conviction or pure folly my decision to limit myself to platonic relationships with married men speaks directly from my philosophy as a man. And I find a double shot of Kentucky bourbon-whiskey helps… I have stepped back from critique refusing to judge any man’s personal journey and redirecting that energy to assert the power of my gentlemanly values in this life’s journey. Standing back from oneself, watching yourself live is a potent draught. Yet so few of us appear to be strong enough to stomach it…

A man who fails to understand and live his own philosophy is not a complete man he is a pupal-man, a vacant-body, a voyeur, or an automaton… he is as close to being soulless as anyone could be…

The pool of available, single men between 40 and 60 has become such a rarefied draught simply by attrition leaving the subset of single, mature men even smaller. Add the personal filters that determine attraction and then step back to assess what remains… be careful choosing your poison! Love is such a private road. Clearly the absence of attractive options has created a demand on both sides of the curve. I believe it’s safe to assume many married men realize they are considered to be a desirable commodity for the consumption of single men and vice versa. What’s often lost in translation is the human side. Sex often drives the attraction but there are other human variables that surface as primary players when the matter is placed under a microscope. Specifically the third wheel in an open relationship is typically left floating in limbo without advocacy. Typically the third wheel is either oblivious and/or locked-out form the details through the craftiness of the first wheel, AKA the husband. Of course as the model becomes more pathological all parties save the married man are blind-pawns feeding a megalomaniacal ego. That’s clearly the down side of sexual deception but human to its core...

That is where I step in. As a gentleman I assume responsibility for protecting the integrity of the Third party be they a wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend, whatever the case… If a married man approaches me to participate in the violation of his vows, his associative contractual responsibilities, as a gentleman I am foresworn to decline. Until I can confirm that third parties are not being hurt everything is placed on hold! Such sterling chivalry leaves a man to wonder how he ever got the idea to turn such potentially good sex down. Were it not for the fact I have enjoyed a rich and plentiful sex and philosophical life I should probably never have realised this epiphany. Managing that potential is really what maturity is all about.  This includes being real about human weakness imperfect as I am…. I know I may succumb to desire and if that is my karma I will explore it to its fullest, guiltless and lustily so! Human frailty my friend is forgivable but predatory thirstiness is patently ungentlemanly!

The needle spins in both directions, a single gay man who targets married men and a married man who targets single gay men are both predatory driven by ungentlemanly motives. A gentleman must assume it is not allright to become an accessory in the violation of a married man’s vows and verbal/nonverbal covenant with his partner. There is a difference between a premeditated outcome and happenstance. When the latter occurs a gentleman has time to reason his way out of trouble. However the former scenario rather finds him in its pursuit. The lesson is that we will not always mind our superego and we will potentially fail to act as a gentleman at some point. It is the heavier weight of those times when we have lived up to our ideals that should always supercede any guilt. Guilt can either be a crutch allowing us to perpetuate something bad or an inspiration to do better!

Exploring my own philosophical ideals has taught me how difficult it is to live the gentlemanly life. I accept what successes I achieve building upon them as I grow in wisdom. My sacrifices have only implications for me… my spiritual buy-in is not in any way connected to that of any other man. The overlay connecting my personal ethics with other men is how I choose to interact with them. I only judge my actions. My interpretation of the proper application of the gentlemanly arts affects those men to whom my life might serve as an example. Therefore I live as an example to others poised along a similar journey.

I conclude this essay on gentlemanly etiquette advising that it is ungentlemanly to cultivate anything save the most platonic friendship with a married man. A gentleman must honor and respect another mans vows even if that man fails to respect them. A gentleman’s duty is to respect family! A gentleman will never undermine a family in fact it is his responsibility to help to strengthen it should he find weaknesses. Raise this simple virtue as a toast celebrating sex and the single man!