The Poetry of Danny Kemp!

Well,  we had quite a bit of stir over our little blog here yesterday.  It seems someone took exception to the type of material we post.  How ridiculous!  It clearly states on the preceding page before you get here  that it is not suitable for anyone under 18.   Oh, the  lack of understanding in the ignorant. 

 Our usual featured author is away for some rather important business.  Ben is turning in his Master's thesis; a huge accomplishment that not many even dare to tackle. 

 KUDOS BEN! WE ARE PROUD OF YOU!  

 In his absense, another gentleman from the UK has  shared some of his poetry with us.  Please welcome wordsmith Danny Kemp!  

 

 I Am Me.

Don’t label with a name,

Don’t label me by colour,

I am me,

I am no other.

Don’t foster on me your bigotry,

Nor peddle me your deception.

I’ll live my life as it pleases me.

Through my own perception.

My life has been surrounded,

by sycophants like you

With words full of nothingness

Thinking they will do.

Never can you fill my mind

With hatred and detestation.

I will live it in my way,

With steadfast determination.

Take your petty criticism and

Take away your disdain.

Live your life removed from me,

As I quickly forget your name.

Love Of Life.

A laugh is infectious.

A tear, shed alone.

A love never offered.

Is a fear never shown.

Passion can be passing.

Love can last forever.

Life can fall apart, but can

Love can bind it together?

To seek but never find.

To look but never see.

To want but never have,

that love that can never be.

To rise from the broken.

To love someone new.

To taste what’s forgotten.

Is to find the real you.

Take this heart from my body

Lay my soul bare.

Take every thought that I have.

Treat my love with care.

My heart is now dead

but my soul lives on.

I was a man once

Now that life has gone.

Reality Or Not?

Indifference built the walls, that locked creativity in.

Self-interest added the wire, that compounded that sin.

Expression was apprehended as complacency swallowed the keys

There was no public trial, and no-one listened to the pleas.

Innocence was the next to fall, trampled and crushed.

As to the deviance of wickedness all had rushed.

Greed played its hand, and what a hand it held.

Untiringly inviting, ‘til all felt compelled.

Step forward compassion, with the purest of heart. “Where do we begin,” it said? “Where do we start?

The battles have been lost that’s true, but the war is yet to end. We must stand together as one and this world we must defend.

This world existed before us, and will survive beyond our years. Hide away your diffidence and shed no more tears.

Creativity will be our sword, expression our eloquent speech, And innocence, it will be you, that bursts through the breach.

That which those four bearers of evil, has bestowed upon us all. Is now ended, and this will be our rallying call.

We must conquer and divide. We must succeed this day. That is my pledge of allegiance I offer to God to whom I pray.”

Hope was recalled, where deep in memory it lie. It joined the side of righteousness and raised its banner high.

The skirmish was uneven, as conscience won the day. The forces of evil were vanquished and sent far, far away.

Suddenly I awoke, as the day shone into my room. It was a dream you see, and I was engulfed, in the unchanged GLOOM.

Along The Way.

“I am heavy, I am tired” said the old man to the child.

“My life, is drawing to an end. It is not what I have done to life that has brought me here today, but what life has done to me along the way.

I was strong, I was fierce, I took no-one to my side, simply brushing them aside with no need of them. Now I find that I’m alone, but don’t pity nor disown those memories that I’ve sown, along the way.

My path was never straight, sometimes narrow, sometimes wide but along it I did stride to find you here. And I am pleased that I did, otherwise you would never know what I managed in my life, along the way.

I have reached that final bend, the one that leads me to my end, and now I leave you here to make your own way through this life. Tread your path with care, and always be aware that there is no such thing in life, as a mistake.”

 Thank you Danny, for sharing your heart and your masterful ability in poetry with us! 

A Bio.....

            Let me first confess something to you, I'm vain and like talking about myself. Usually I'm surrounded by people who only want to speak about themselves. I call them selfish and myself; misunderstood.

            I will not bore you with my likes and dislikes, there are far more interesting people out there where you can measure your own against theirs. Instead, I will give you an example of what influenced my life. Just past my seventeenth birthday my Father died suddenly leaving me, his only child, and my Mother, who was verging on blindness. I was studying to be a Chartered Accountant, having changed my aspirations, from becoming a Helicopter pilot, on getting my 'O' level results from Shooters Hill Grammar School. I was a disappointment to both parents, having concentrated more on becoming a competent cricketer and the best open side wing forward never to play rugby for England than on my academic studies. Anyway, there I was on my way to the office when, without rhyme nor reason, I signed up to become a Police Cadet.

            At the age of nineteen I was an up and running Police Constable, and here comes the thing. One day, whilst on duty, I found an eight year old boy who had been reported as missing from his home. Dutifully I returned him there to be greeted by a thankful Mother and a contemptuous Father sitting next to a roaring fire, stoking it with a steel poker.

When I saw the fear in his sons' eyes I knew immediately what had caused the inch wide festering wound on the boys face. I'll let you imagine what injuries I wanted to inflict on that man, but I didn't; and I've been ashamed of myself ever since.

            I had a short career in the 'Job,' but no less eventful. I was the first to arrive at three deaths. One a sudden natural death, one a very 'bloody' suicide and one, where a jealous soldier shot his wife full in the face with both barrels of a 12 bore shotgun. All three were horrific and disturbing, but nothing has haunted me as much as that eight year old wounded child. I wonder if he ever lived long enough to extract revenge on his Father. I guess, in the age that we all live, I shouldn't say that, should I?

Why I started to write.

             I was at work ( I am a London Licensed Taxi Driver) one sunny November day in 2006, minding my own business, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to Hospital and kept in for while, but it was not physical injuries that I suffered from; it was mental.

            I had lost all confidence in myself, let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin, and the anxiety attacks would start.

            I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly but I wasn't, I could not cope with life and thought about ending it.

Somehow or other with the help from my dear wife, and professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly, rebuilt my self-esteem.

            It took almost four years to fully recover and become what I now am, somewhere close to what I was before that day, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write.

            My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless it was there. After telling me to write another story, he said that there were two choices open to me: One, wait for a traditional deal. At sixty-two, with no literary profile or experience; little hope. Two, self-publish through New Generation Publishing.

This, I'm delighted to say, I did.

            The success of my story, The Desolate Garden, is down to my sheer hard work, luck, in meeting a film producer and the uncompromising stance taken by Daniel Cooke my publisher, who never 'massages my inflated ego,' as he so often puts it.

From my Amazon Profile Page.

            Once arrested for attempted murder in England, Danny Kemp decided that a career in writing was for him. No different than Nicholas Sparks, Mr. Kemp's first novel The Desolate Garden was picked up in a snap, and is currently being rendered into a movie. Outside the field of "run-ins with the law, Kemp draws on decades of experience, encompassing the Metropolitan Police, the tenancy of three English Public Houses, and the Licensed Taxi Trade in London, as well as being a radio voice-over artist in several radio plays, where he honed his sense of story and pacing.

(I was not found guilty…LOL)

Links. (Four chapters on Amazon)

UK) http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Desolate-Garden-ebook/dp/B008BJWJ2Y/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

(US) http://www.amazon.com/The-Desolate-Garden-ebook/dp/B008BJWJ2Y/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

WATERSTONES http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/products/danny+kemp/the+desolate+garden/9142641/

Filming is due to begin this year with a set being built in the Unites Arab Emirates, and then locational work here in London. The budget for this project is $30,000,000’s. The production company is English, based in London.

Oral Dilemma: Match

Luke and Roxy have been training pretty intensely over the previous ten weeks.  It's towards the end of the semester, nearly time for them to go home for the summer, or find a summer job.  Roxy has a standing offer to  work at her dad's company, but if she can win this  match, she'll win more than she could make at the plant working the entire summer. Let's see how things develop. 

Read part 7 here.
Read part 6 here.

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here

Match

by 

Ellie Mack

As the trainer wrapped my hands, I cracked my neck. I was as ready for this as I would ever be. I was more in shape than I had been for the previous match:faster, leaner,stronger. My competition was a chick from Baton Rouge. She was 3 inches taller which meant she had a longer reach, her legs were thin with little muscle definition. Still, I wasn’t going to assume anything.

On the other side of the arena building Luke prepared for his first fight ever. He’d trained hard, given his all. He was far more serious than I had given him credit for. Luke was in the zone, but I couldn’t watch his match.

We had fallen into a routine. Workout, showers, back to his apartment, a healthy meal, great sex, then studies till midnight. In the mornings I’d go back to my room, do our laundry, study, go to class and do it all over again. It had been a full week since I stayed over. Midterms had me running like crazy, and we decided that we should both concentrate on our school work. Tonight, win or lose our matches, we would be together.

I wanted to watch his match , but I couldn’t. I had to focus, had to get my head in my own zone, free from other distractions. My friend Kayla was taping both our matches so we could view later and review what we need to improve. The trainer tapped my partial gloves “You can take Aleysia, she’s thin she has been sick. She’s not looking good and you’re in the best shape of your life. Make quick work of her Roxy.”

It was time. My stomach churned as I took a swig of Gatorade. There it was - my cue. “Roxanne Winters” As I jogged to the ring, the roar of the crowd seemed to fade in the distance. I was there for one reason, to win. I bound into the ring, spinning myself on the top rope, landing squarely on my feet as if I’d done it a million times but it was just the adrenaline rush. Bouncing form toe to toe waiting for the command of the ref. Aleysia flashed me a disconcerted half smile. I wasn’t sure if it was a cocky “I’ve got this”, or if I’d rocked her off her game. We were about to find out.

I took a hard blow to my cheek at one point, and a foot to the ribs. My game was on my feet, I tried my best to stay off the mat. We danced around the ring, exchanging blows, testing each other. I could tell I w as stronger than her just by the lack of impact of her blows. A flying roundhouse kick followed by a back kick to the back of Aleysia’s thigh and she was down. As I suspected, her legs were conditioned with cardio, lean with endurance, where I’d been interval training, weight training, and plyometrics. It didn’t take much for me to get her in a headlock when she was disoriented. Then I heard my name announced, what a rush!

I had to wait, had to go back to the locker room. I didn’t want to throw Luke off his game. It seemed surreal, my match was already over. I could have gone longer. I had so much energy I was literally bouncing. I stood ringside watching the other women. Inevitably I would be fighting these women at some point. I watched their moves, studied their techniques, noted their nails even to get my mind off worrying about Luke’s match.

After what seemed like hours, the winners were announced. I accepted my prize, but was more interested in the check that came with it. Also I’d gotten endorsements for local gyms, free membership, and more supplements than I would ever use. Then I waited. Waited with baited breath to hear Luke’s name. My eyes down, waiting, listening then Winner of round 3 men’s middleweight - Luke Reed. My eyes shot up and I saw him for the first time that night. His eyes were locked on me. He mouthed “ I won!”

My eyes welled with tears, as I watched him collect his belt, and other prizes. Once he was off the platform I ran into his arms, nothing was going to keep me from him now. I lept into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, our kisses frantic!

He called in the biggest greasiest deluxe pizza and a 2 liter of soda for us, picking it up on the way back. We ate the entire thing then he got out the bottle of champagne he’d bought to celebrate.

“ I had this chilling since I left for the match Roxy. I knew you’d win baby. You are amazing, and you’re in the best shape of your life. You look amazing, but that doesn’t compare to the woman inside. The woman inside, the one I fell in love with.” He gave me the glass of champagne and set his on the coffee table. He knelt down on his right knee, taking out a small velvet box.”Will you marry me Roxanne Winters? Spend the rest of our lives together?”

I did not see that one coming at all. My chin nearly hit the floor, I was stunned. I sat there gawking at the ring for a while when he asked. “ Well, um babe are you going to answer me? I need to get off my knee here - its’ bruised form Leon’s kicks.”

“Of course I will Luke. Yes!” I pulled him up to me, the champagne forgotten in our kiss and embrace. Instantly I was on fire at his touch. My lips parted slightly as he persuaded me wit his tongue. His hand roughly cupping my breast, massaging and kneading, teasing until tight little buds rose to the occasion. I tugged his shirt off over his head and tossed it.

Luke grinned slyly and did likewise to my shirt. He dipped his head to mine, then moved lower taking one of the traitorous buds into his mouth, my back arching as the sensation rippled through me.

My fingertips trailed down his spine, into the waist of his jeans. I worked, fumbling to unfasten his jeans. My mind hazed with desire. Pushing the jeans down his legs into the floor. I don’t even remember him removing my own jeans, but suddenly he was there on top of me. I could feel his hardness pressed against me. His lips glided over mine roughly. “Roxy, sweetheart. I love you.”

There was no more talking after that. He plunged his tongue into my mouth at the same time he plunged into me lower. OH gods it was divine! Instant flood of fire throughout my entire being. I wanted, needed this.

Our rhythm went from slow gentle lovemaking to wild tantric movements. Fueled by the adrenaline of the days events, we pushed ourselves beyond anything we’d done before. My fingers trailed down his lean torso, outlining the hard muscles, while he put one leg over his shoulder, slamming deep inside me, causing me to scream in my release.

Luke didn’t stop, he kept going, pushing me on further. Another wave rolled over me as I lifted my hips, tightening on him, feeling myself contract again and again. We stopped long enough to each take a drink before he flipped me over, my ass in the air. His tongue flicking over my slit, over my puckered backdoor, and sucking my nub. I was moaning, begging when he entered me. It didn’t take much at that point for me to come again. For the very first time Luke wanted to take me anally. We started slow, but I was already so turned on it didn’t take much for me to speed up quickly once he used a little bit of lube. He kept scrunching his eyes, saying “ good, so good baby”. He’d go fast and deep then slow down, wanting to make it last even longer. Then he couldn’t wait any longer. Another squirt of lube and Luke pounded into me. I loved it. I came two more times before he began that jerky broken rhythm right before exploding.

At 3:14 a.m. We collapsed on the bed together, spent.

The rest of the weekend was spent in each other’s arms, the outside world forgotten.

Butterfly Kisses-Finale

Butterfly Kisses: Finale

By

 Cathy Brockman

Storytime Trysts does not own this photo

Party night got here much faster than I would have liked. I wish I had more time to get to know the imp whose name by the way is Ivan. Obediah has avoided me like the plaque. Oh well I guess if he is happy being a drone to the queen when he could be my prince then more power to him. I don’t need a man than doesn’t want to be with me.

I really don’t want to just pick a man like I’m shopping for clothes. It just doesn't feel right, but mom isn’t giving me the time to go traditional and fall in love. I told her I would choose a mate tonight, I never said anything about setting a wedding date. Perhaps I can buy some time and get to know this prospective mate. If things don’t work out mom can always throw another party for me to choose again. She loves throwing parties.

As usual mom went all out and the party was spectacular. There were fairy lights everywhere twinkling in the dark like millions of tiny stars. Being out in the courtyard garden there wasn't a need for a lot of decoration since the garden was beautiful enough with all the fragrant blooms and the fountains flowing. There were several large buffet tables set up with a variety of foods for all tastes. There were vegan tables, vegetarian tables and a table with meats and cheeses for the carnivores. Something for everyone.

It seems as if everyone in Fae has come to the festivities. Not only was there a smorgasbord of food and drink but a smorgasbord of men. And that one was meant especially for me. I guess the other ladies of Fae were waiting in the sidelines to choose from the leftovers. The funny thing was I still didn't want to choose. I would rather fate choose for me but I guess that wasn't going to happen.

Since Obediah made it perfectly clear he had no interest in being one of the chosen, I narrowed my sights down to Draecon the dragonfly prince and possibly Faelord the firefly prince for the first part of the evening. It didn't take long for me to realize there was no way in Fae I could live with Faelord. The man was just way too flamboyant for me. I finally got away from  him.

Draecon bored me to sleep with all his tales of battles and the like. I just don’t see me in his dark kingdom watching him practice sword fighting and all his jujitsu, boxing and gladiator games. I’m not the violent type or the outdoorsy active type either.

I’m more creative and colorful and nature friendly. I like sunning in the sand, and have recently discovered I like fishing. Well I don’t like to fish. But I enjoyed watching a certain sexy Imp fish and tell me stories of hiking in the woods, bird watching and life in the woods. An Imp that didn't show up, which is probably good.

 If I was to choose an Imp my mom would split a wing. But she never said I had to choose an insect Faery, her words and I quote were ‘LaRae, it’s time you choose a mate, this weekend at the end of the ball you will give me your choice from the suitors in attendance, and I will make the announcement.’ Nowhere did she specify species.

I had hoped that Ivan would show bu, no such luck. I had not figured as much since he let me know he wasn't a party type person nor did he like crowds or big fancy galas. I didn't tell him about the big reason mom was throwing the party. Mainly I didn't want him to know that I was choosing a man like most people choose food or clothing, second I didn't want to think that the only reason he came was a chance to marry into the royal family. If he came it was to spend time with me, to meet my family and friends and no other agenda. I didn't figure in just a few days he would be interested in me enough to come meet my family since he told me he was too shy and just didn't do crowds.

The night was half over and I had no clue as to what to do. I felt like just running away. I was avoiding mom all I could. I slipped off to the back of the garden to a big patch of toadstools near a small cascading fountain. There sitting on a toadstool skipping pebbles in the small stream was Ivan.

My heart skipped a beat. He came. Even though he made it clear he even had panic attacks around a lot of people, here he is. Does that mean he likes me? I take a deep breath.

“Hi Imp.”

His eyes light up as he takes in my long, flowing, fuchsia dress that has a seashell bodice. His broad smile sends goose bumps all over me. What is it about this man that just revs my engines?

“G’d  Evnin’ Faery. You look lovely.” He grins impishly as his eyes rake over my body, he folds his large hands across his lap but I already noticed what he was trying to hide.

But does he just lust after me or does he like me? Will he run like a rabbit when I tell him the real reason for the party and that he is at the top of my list?

“Ivan I need to ask you a couple questions”

“Okay.” He goes back to tossing pebbles.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“You invited me.” Plop, plop, goes the pebbles.

“You said you probably wouldn't come that you don’t like crowds or parties.”

He turns to look at me. Even in the pale moonlight I can see the glimmer in his gorgeous forest green eyes.

“No I don’t, but I like you.” Then like a slight whisper of wind, “I missed you.”

“Ivan, do you like me as a friend or would you be interested in more.”

“More as in what?” he keeps his gaze on my eyes. I can see how nervous he is and I can just feel a pull between us.

I tell him why mom has thrown the party. I tell him I like him a lot and want to get to know him more.

He smiles at me and nods. I take him by the hand.

“Would you like to go meet my mom?”

He slowly stands and nods again.

I swallow hard as we walk through the crowd. We stop at the buffet tables and I encourage Ivan to eat a little. I grab a cup of honey wine. I need a bit of liquid encouragement to face mom. I approach the Dias and mom looks up at me hopefully.

“Well LaRae, have you made a choice or do I get the honor.” She has a smug look on her face.

“Ivan, this is my Mother, queen of the butterfly faeries, Mom this is Ivan, my mate.”

Not the end, but a new beginning!

I hope you enjoyed My Faery tale. We had a blast writing it. If you missed the first episode you can find it here 

Chapter 2 here!

Chapter 3here 

Join us in May for Kiss of Fate our prequel to Love Bites and see the budding romance of Nicolai a prominent heir of a large plantation and Illia a Wicca peasant girl. Two lovers from different stations in life and how fate intervenes.

 Be on the lookout for a big announcement at the end of this story!

Realizing Love

As the Spring Thaw gets underway, let this little bit of drabble warm you.  A note of warning though,  it will do more than thaw. Perhaps have a fire extinguisher handy.

 

 Realizing Love

by 

Ben Hannigan

He lay there spent in my arms as I traced lines across his skin. His bare flesh warm and comforting. Sprawled on my bed displaying the body I adored and the scratches, the bites that I added. My own stamp on this work of art, he could be carved in stone or cast in bronze, his body so lithe and toned. He is physically perfect to me. I run my hand over his sleeping body and each time I explore I find something new.

He reaches for me in his sleep and I’m here, pulled close as he grips me.  All I can do, all I want to do is just hold him here close to me. The way he touches me when we kiss keeps me here.  The way he holds me through the nights, the way he promises me my dreams and desires. I don’t feel I’m enough for him, but when I challenge him he doesn’t argue.  Instead, he just states what he feels for me. The passion, that drive, and that confidence he is utterly right is enough. Is enough to calm my fears and my doubts and relax knowing I'm his.

As he wakes he reaches for me, I feign sleep because I don’t want to worry him.  Don’t want to admit I stay up to watch him at peace.  He kisses me greedily and I feel myself responding.  My body betraying me in a way I can't be angry about. His kisses flutter across my throat and shoulder, his teeth grazing my neck as his hand wanders lower.  He finds me waiting and wet as I arch towards him my morning nuzzles becoming more strained and breathy.

“Baaaby,” I cry begging, “God please, please just don’t ever stop.” I raise my hips meeting him as he fills me. I’m rolling up his length pulling him close, my lips tugging him into my embrace as I begin to howl.  He is working me. How does he know my body so well after so little time? 

He’s mumbling words I never catch but I feel the intensity of the emotions so well, I don’t need to. I hear his heart race and his breath catch and I know he’s close to that edge and I’m being pulled along behind by his youthful enthusiasm. 

“Come on baby please, I wont break.” This point is always where I take the lead, pulling him close, making him see its OK to want this, to want us as I pull him in deeper. Showing him, making him feel my impending crash and wanting to drag him with me.  He gets his confidence from me here, allowing himself to draw on me to lose himself, to let go.

I pull him close locking my ankles behind his back and allow him to lose his composure as I kiss his chest. And that’s the bit I love most.  That slow hitch of breath, that growl as he fires and the world contracts into just us, just this moment. He lets go and drives me with him as he melts into my body and we kiss. The world dissolves into mumbled words of love, sighs and some small tears as the guilt hits him and I have to be strong to reassure him that it’s OK, that enjoying what I give freely doesn’t mean he is Him. I stroke his back as we cuddle in this moment, realizing I have dealt with my past better than he has.  My years an advantage here and that re-forged determination to teach him and to help him see that this is not only OK, but great.

Oh the end is here, that sweet wonderful end where I’m pulled close and just held.  Where he and I kiss softly. 

“Morning sweetheart” I mumble as I am pulled into his warmth and just allowed to drift into dreams. Secure that I am not alone, not left wanting for at least one more day.