Blog Dis

This night,
oh, night of thereafter
I come to you in desperation,
my madness compels me,

To love you
in wiles, in ways
unimagined.
I cross the oceans.

To lead you to my bed
I beckon you,
to be with me,
this night.

I leave behind
all that I know of love
and give myself
to your heart.

COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy

We are fond of demarcation lines, to separate and part the ways, as though there's no associative link to be made between one and the other. I see this plenty enough whenever men throw out opinions about the behavior of women, who according to them, have lost their place in modern society, and are out of control.


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Do you have one? Be honest. Do you regard yourself as someone who believes in observing a sense of fair play? For if you do, then consider yourself to be one of the few, who go unrewarded for striving to treat each person with a sense of fair play. It means you will not knowingly take advantage of someone, no matter the temptation.


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He uses a long timeline to judge me,
to monitor my swinging moods
across the scale of hunger.

For his sex,
a migratory pattern of venturing
into other women,
I broke him.

Away from all invitations
save my own,
and a fortnight alone we spent
in a small room.

We talked and petted in intricate detail.
We explored our crucial feelings.
In the bed, we melted.

COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy

A misleading title, if ever there was one, knowing fully that narcissism is here to say, a gross fact of life, so long as there are people. Granted, we can choose to step away from the narcissists of this world and, sometimes, just sometimes the narcissist will collapse in on themselves.


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I turned my back on my freshly brewed espresso with a healthy dollop of creamy whipped topping and no sooner had I done so when the quick darting, pink and adorably cute tongue of my hooligan love-kitty, Nutmeg, was making fast work of my weekend pleasure, even before I had taken my first sip.


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When he touched me,
I became like water in his hands,
my peace of mind barely held together
in a swimming head.

I found myself
in the comforting perfume of his flesh.
How sweet he smells
in the early hours of morning.

A taste I shall never forget
when I kiss him
and love his body,
I think of no one else.

COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy

It's a privilege to be able to mouth off without fear of reprisal, as much as it is to express opinions in public or on any social platform that observes the right of free speech. Well, this is the ideal, though not always the reality.


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Men are a curious species. I'm not a man but I've lived with them since childhood into adulthood, and I've worked with men during my professional career. So when I refer to men as a curious species, it is from the perspective of another species scratching their head, while attempting to figure out why men do the things they do. It isn't always obvious to me. But then nothing is obvious about men, any more than what women do is obvious to them. We women are a curious species too.


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One kiss upon my soul
I stole from Lucifer
his reason to worship.

I became his fallen angel
on whose wings I descended further,
my feathers blood-stained,

My despair worn thin
on the veil of hope
I am held in his heart, steadfast.

Mouths pressed upon lips, kissing wet.
I leap and soar on wily currents of free will,
like Lucifer, I am lightly in love.

COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy

It's been over six months since I stopped working full-time for an organization, while continuing to blog and write my eighth novel, during the week regardless. Honestly, I wish I could admit that I've been able to fully decompress... well maybe a little bit. 😆


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Every new decade is believed to usher in a newer and better representation of change in ourselves and our personalities. Some might agree that even preferences are affected, what we scale back and with what we push forward until kingdom come.


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