Wednesday, October 15, 2014

For the Seasons: Signs

For the Seasons by Sopphey Vance. Cover by Nathan Alan Schwartz.

For the Seasons is the first ever collection of gender queer romantic poetry, albeit erotic at times. The poetry, like the relationship it's based on, moves through four seasons--between two genders and timeless genres of love.

Because the romance is so different, I've decided to present the poems here first. I do warn, some of the poems are lovely while others are downright devious. It's not my intention to offend anyone, but some works should be read with caution.

And now, we're in autumn.
~~~
Signs

Brittle leaves on the ground,
a signature for a fall.
Long boots, long socks,
long drawers, long sleeves,
and best of all long scarves.
Supplements to warmth,
on that beloved man of mine.

Hush dear,
don't let the wind brush your lips.
They'll chap and that's unkind.
Nothing but the best for you,
the softest for you.
A bed of roses and a crown of singing doves.
The joys they'll sing
of the tenderness within me.
The birth of eternity in my heart,
the heavenly tune of our love.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

For the Seasons: Wind Chimes

For the Seasons by Sopphey Vance. Cover by Nathan Alan Schwartz.

For the Seasons is the first ever collection of gender queer romantic poetry, albeit erotic at times. The poetry, like the relationship it's based on, moves through four seasons--between two genders and timeless genres of love.

Because the romance is so different, I've decided to present the poems here first. I do warn, some of the poems are lovely while others are downright devious. It's not my intention to offend anyone, but some works should be read with caution.

And now, we're in autumn.

~~~
Wind Chimes

Open the window.
Let me put these cupcakes
into the oven and
you can clean up my mess.

Our mess. Flour in your hair,
down your clothes.
Take off your clothes.
Clean our mess.
I'll watch you wring out the batter
from the wet cloth.
See you matte your hair,
adjust my ring back on your finger.

Dishes all sorted.
Tables all cleaned.
Join me by the window.
Let the quiet comfort you,
let it wrap its arms around
you like I do. Be very still.
The wind loves you like I do.

Pressing small kisses against you.
Like a little draft that makes
the wind chimes ring around us.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

For the Seasons: My Queen and I

For the Seasons by Sopphey Vance. Cover by Nathan Alan Schwartz.

For the Seasons is the first ever collection of gender queer romantic poetry, albeit erotic at times. The poetry, like the relationship it's based on, moves through four seasons--between two genders and timeless genres of love.

Because the romance is so different, I've decided to present the poems here first. I do warn, some of the poems are lovely while others are downright devious. It's not my intention to offend anyone, but some works should be read with caution.

And now, we're in autumn.

~~~

My Queen and I

We're out to paint the town
in hues of orange and lilac.
My queen and I,
her broad shoulders hidden
under satin and sequins.
My meager chest existence
wrapped in shame.
We're going to kiss in public
under the scrutiny of drag night.
Queers, queens, and Kings alike
celebrating happiness that only we understand.
And when our feet are spent.
and her dress sleeve slides
over her shoulder.
I'm going to kiss her in private.
Love her as woman, on a bed of roses.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

For the Seasons: Boy or Girl

For the Seasons by Sopphey Vance. Cover by Nathan Alan Schwartz.

For the Seasons is the first ever collection of gender queer romantic poetry, albeit erotic at times. The poetry, like the relationship it's based on, moves through four seasons--between two genders and timeless genres of love.

Because the romance is so different, I've decided to present the poems here first. I do warn, some of the poems are lovely while others are downright devious. It's not my intention to offend anyone, but some works should be read with caution.

Today's poem falls in the second season of the romance: Summer. And with Summer comes Summer Love, passion, and lust.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

For the Seasons: Beating Drum

For the Seasons by Sopphey Vance. Cover by Nathan Alan Schwartz.

For the Seasons is the first ever collection of gender queer romantic poetry, albeit erotic at times. The poetry, like the relationship it's based on, moves through four seasons--between two genders and timeless genres of love.

Because the romance is so different, I've decided to present the poems here first. I do warn, some of the poems are lovely while others are downright devious. It's not my intention to offend anyone, but some works should be read with caution.

Today's poem falls in the second season of the romance: Summer. And with Summer comes Summer Love, passion, and lust.

~~~

Beating Drum

I love you like a beating drum.
A kaleidoscope for danger
and a blood curling echo.

I love to love you,
hurt you, fuck you.

Use your body for
my body's pleasure.
Play you, love you,
kiss you all night long.

Pain's not your pleasure,
but for me you play to faint.
Love you, hurt you; bang.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

For the Seasons: Bad Girl

For the Seasons by Sopphey Vance. Cover by Nathan Alan Schwartz.

For the Seasons is the first ever collection of gender queer romantic poetry, albeit erotic at times. The poetry, like the relationship it's based on, moves through four seasons--between two genders and timeless genres of love.

Because the romance is so different, I've decided to present the poems here first. I do warn, some of the poems are lovely while others are downright devious. It's not my intention to offend anyone, but some works should be read with caution.

Today's poem falls in the second season of the romance: Summer. And with Summer comes Summer Love, passion, and lust.

~~~

Bad Girl

I recognize my red lipstick.
I kiss his lips and smear
it down his chin.
Biting the valley of his neck.

Look at my bad girl.

I nip at the silver silk
over his chest,
tasting the expensive fabric.

She recoils against my teeth
but doesn't move.
Spending money on clothes again.
I gnaw on the fabric
pulling it down revealing
her broad shoulders.
She whimpers.
I push her back against the wall.
Paw her legs open.

Look at her.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Monday Morning: Aug 25


If I had a playlist for those times where I just have to run out of a place, be it a bar or protestetc, crying... this would be it. It was that kind of weekend for me.


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

For the Seasons: Petal Kiss

For the Seasons by Sopphey Vance. Cover by Nathan Alan Schwartz.

For the Seasons is the first ever collection of gender queer romantic poetry, albeit erotic at times. The poetry, like the relationship it's based on, moves through four seasons--between two genders and timeless genres of love.

Because the romance is so different, I've decided to present the poems here first. I do warn, some of the poems are lovely while others are downright devious. It's not my intention to offend anyone, but some works should be read with caution.

Today's poem falls in the second season of the romance: Summer. And with Summer comes Summer Love, passion, and lust.

~~~
Please go to Bare Back Magazine to read Petal Kiss.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

South Beach “Diet” Has Stolen My Soul

You are extremely fortunate if you've never heard of low-carb diets. Even more fortunate if you have never tried a low-carb diet. I, on the other hand, find myself refreshingly miserable.

Sugar is a beast, an addiction that has a reputation of providing the same high consistently. It's a menace that requires more input than output, input meaning that it likes to be paired up with fats. Such pairings like ice cream and french fries. Bacon, jalapeno, cheese burger. Margaritas and hot dogs. White Russians and pub food. Chips!, 50% fat and 48% mystery carbs.

Output—I have found no efficient way to output high sugary foods through movement to date.

But sugar is dangerous, like all addictions. And like most addictions I've been avoiding, I must make away with. That's how I found the South Beach Diet. Seemed simple, you avoid added sugars, bread, pasta, fruit, and carrots for two weeks.

Yeah, there's no way I could stop eating carrots. Or croutons. Crackers, I like crackers. But, I've been doing well without bread—aka I could really go for some French bread with butter and cheese. I really miss fruit.

But, all those missing feelings and cravings disappear when I look into the mirror. I stand there facing years of addictions and I'm so grateful to not feel so bloated.

I'm so relieved that what can seem extreme feels so nice to me. That I can lay in bed in the morning without escaping into a lifeless void. That I can go throughout the day without sugar highs and lows. And really, what's more important than ice cream? Ice cream with a friend, enjoying the time not the food. Enjoying company not the food.

The memories I want to create revolve around people. The life I am living revolves around friendship and living. It's a nice, simple, life.

Monday, August 18, 2014

MM 18 Aug 2014

The music I listen to is a direct reflection of my mood. I haven't been posting music playlists lately, and that too is a reflection of my mood. I've been working on that over the weekend. And I settled on a nice upbeat, yet very laid back playlist.