Title blurb




"From one LIGHT come many colors." ~GJ Dürrschmidt

Friday, March 30, 2012

Midnight Oil (Or: Ass, Gas, or Grass: Nobody Writes for Free!)




I'm still awake writing
his paper,
while he's on the couch
fast asleep.
The assignment's due by
tomorrow.
What I'm sewing, oh yea,
I shall reap.
Today, he first realized
and panicked,
then begged me to bail
his ass out.
“You're a writer, for
Christ's sake!”
he reminded.
“Your help was
never in doubt!”
He knew to stroke more 
than my ego.
Midnight oil now burns 
‘til first light.
Once more he'll turn in
an "A" paper.
Once more I’ll get laid
tonight.

~gj duerrschmidt



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Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Boy In An Orange Bow Tie




A boy in an orange bow tie
smiles as I leave my house each day;
and
when I return each evening,
he smiles at me in the same way.

If hurried, I dash quickly by him,
knowing full well that he is there,
making
no attempt at eye contact,
still he smiles not having a care.

Sweet, that smile, the innocence,
sad how quickly boys do grow,
into
men with old framed photographs
of those they used to know.


~gj duerrschmidt

For more by this writer, visit:
The Orangenous Zone 

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Hugged a Poet Lately?




Have you 
hugged
an eclectic,
eccentric,
native,
creative,
long-haired,
half-scared,
witty, giddy,
tantric, romantic,
semi-elated,
ego inflated,
handsome, and
then some,
man o' the quill,
sublime 'n chill,
wired, inspired,
willy-nilly,
too often silly,
passion igniter,
poet 'n writer
lately?

~gj duerrschmidt
 
More from this writer at:

Monday, March 26, 2012

Vote No to Fundamentalism!



 
If everyone in the world
looked
fundamentally the same,
thought
fundamentally the same,
believed
fundamentally the same,
behaved
fundamentally the same,
shared the same
life goals
and
world view,
we would all just naturally
be fundamentalists,
(fundamentally speaking)
and
life for everyone of us
would be perfect, uh,
at least fundamentally.

Wouldn't it?

~gj duerrschmidt


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Sunday, March 25, 2012

Balls: A Gripping Story (Hey, It's a Guy Thing!)




My favorite time of the day is bedtime. That’s when I get to crawl under the blankets, snuggle up among a half dozen pillows, and grab hold of my balls. There’s nothing more comforting and soothing than the feel of big, warm, fuzzy balls after a long, stressful day. Their spongy softness simply begs to be squeezed. On typical nights, I squeeze them both at the same time; but every now and then, I seem to favor one over the other.

Most nights, I simply hold onto them with both hands, eventually letting go when I finally drift off to sleep. But, regardless how much I toss and turn throughout the night, I almost invariably wake up holding one, if not both. The feel of my balls first thing in the morning, often makes it difficult to get out of bed. I don’t want to let them go. They’re irresistible! But, hey, it’s not just me who thinks so. 



When my buddies come over to hang out, and they see my balls, they too, can’t seem to keep their hands off of them. At first, I was a little put off by their not so much as even asking first, but simply grabbing at them, and tossing them around. I’ve since gotten used to it, and don't mind sharing. I mean, after all, they are my buds, right?

Of the two balls, I like the soft, plush football the most, though there are nights when I seem to favor the larger, firmer, basketball. I’ve considered adding a third, cuddly soccer ball to the mix, but somehow I don’t think it would be quite the same. I don’t know about you, but something just strikes me as odd about having three. Truth be known, I’m perfectly happy, and satisfied, with the two I already have.


 ~gj duerrschmidt

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Monday, March 5, 2012

Lunch: The New Missionary Position


Across the street, 
beyond the spire,
gracefully lighting 
upon a wire,
high above the 
evergreen pine,
white and grey, 
poised so fine;

a skillful hawk, 
with prey in claw,
tears at flesh, 
warm, wet, and raw.
I hear a knock,
and have a hunch, 
I too may now have 
prey for lunch!


~gj duerrschmidt





For more writings by this author, please visit 


When Straight Boys Crush: Such a Rush!



What is it about you?
I cannot explain
why I find myself
driven to stop
and take special
notice of you.

When the bus arrives,
I stand there 
waiting,
watching,
looking for that first
glimpse of you.

In between classes,
I linger at my
locker,
and have been late,
hoping to catch a
glance from you;

What is it about me?
I have a girlfriend,
yet, when she’s
with me, I cannot
keep my mind
off of you.

Christ, you’re a guy!
What the fuck?
Am I losing it,
or just now
finding it ~
my true identity?

What is it about you?
I want you so badly,
and in a way
that I fear I may
never be able
to have you.

You’re such a rush!


~gj duerrschmidt





For more writings by this author, visit