How Does a Man Knock on the Door of a Woman's Heart?

 

 

How does a man knock on the door of a woman's heart?

(Asking for a friend.) 

 

Two examples: 

Does he pound on it heavily like 

a looming, sweaty, brutish, 

Stanley Kowalski?

("HEY, OPEN UP!!! I LIKE YA, GODDAMMIT, SO C'MON, LEMME IN ALREADY!!!")

Or tap it so shyly as to be nearly unheard by her

by a small, nebbish, anxious

Woody Allen?

 

("Oh, hi, hey, uh...heh...jeez!...um, e-excuse me, nice lady, I...uh...was-was, heh, wondering...w-would you, um...w-would you...um...please let me into...your...uhhhh...)

Ehhh... 

 

Or will it ultimately be some firm, quick, evenly spaced raps

and that's all,

but she'll hear them?

And if she's not not interested

does he play the troubador, or

do the over-remembered "Say Anything" bit?

Strew the path to her heart with sweets&sweet nothings/flowers/semi-fine dining/wine&spirits? (hmm, maybe that last one...)

 

Ehhh...

too much, too soon. 

But wait, though. First let's see things a little from her view.

 

She might not be having any of it,

be having a bad time in her life,

scream "Go away!",

the door locked or,  

worse, soldered shut,

never to open.

That's a bit pessimistic, though.

Let say she's receptive,

and if he can get through to her

(and she deems him sufficiently non threatening

but not quite close enough to hand him her spare key),

she may open the door a tiny crack,

even slide it open more than an inch,

but never throw it wide wide open 

(no, not that, yet, 

which is much more than fine for now)

or reach a hand round for a quick shake-"How d'you do, sir?"

(And remember that famous saying:

"The operative word in gentleman is 'gentle'."

-Dan Beardgild (who?))

Further, he can offer to drink in carefully and attentively

her daily narratives through the mail slot.

Listen-- 

then maybe...over time...maybe...juust maaybee...

that will lead to sssssss-eeeeeeee-ehhhhhhh----

platonically slothin' out on a couch-Netflix and chill snackin', drinkin' 

and fartin' into the couch cushions.

Also, remember that other famous saying:

"Sex is on the table but it need not be the centerpiece."

-Dan Beardgild (*pfft* this guy again?--name sounds made-up and anagrammatic) 

So,

anyway, 

yes.

Finis?

Finis. 

No, no, I won't wait here

(got things to do)

but... 

 

this poem is also a door, ladies,

I'll leave unlocked 

and the porch light on

for you.

 

 

*knockknockknockknockknock*

... 

 

 

DB/9.2026 

 

 

Left (Fantasy Left-Wing Heavy Metal Band Idea)

 

                                             AI Generated Image

 

                                                     LEFT

                                    Karl Marx (Drums, Vocals)

                         Friedrich Engels (Electric Guitar, Vocals)

                           Emma Goldman (Bass Guitar, Vocals) 

          Jessica "Decca Do-Right" Mitford (Electric Guitar, Vocals) 

     Guests: Dorothy Parker, Ida B. Wells, Helen Keller + Paul Robeson

                                    DEBUT ALBUM SONGS 

                               O Communards! (Soft Version)

                               O Communards! (Loud Version)

                                      Means of Destruction 

                                          Slutzz in Suitzz

                                             Labor Pains 

                              When the Children Cry/Diss-rael

                                                Cancel

                                 The American Way of Life 

                                         Transportations

                         EVERYBODY SINGS IN THIS ONE!!!

   

DB/7.2026                     

                                     

 

 

Complete the Story 2

The soldiers had been hunkered down in the abandoned building all night. It had cooled off a little when the sun went down, but now sunrise was promising another sweltering day. They had to keep clear of windows, or the snipers outside wouldn't hesitate-to shoot at the first sight of even a helmet, which did happen to Pvt. Moskovich (who survived but gained a sizeable gape in it, making it unusable), and surmised that the tiny desert village they were trapped in was "lousy with fuckin' Kraut snipers!" Sgt. Dunleavy stood arms akimbo as he shifted his cigar from one side of his grimy mouth to the other. "Anybody got any idears?!" he roared. His squad traded silent glances, then Pvt. Merriman, an egghead who brought a bit more insouciance to these situations than was really required, posed a curious question to his anxious comrades. "Any o' you bookless worms know what Roman soldiers did, how they used t' defend themselves?" And he nodded to a stack of corrugated iron sheets leaning against the far wall. As the others looked blankly at him Sgt. Dunleavy, at first unseeing, slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, Merriman, I getcha...I ain't without some learnin' 'bout Roman soldiers, but...hell..." He rubbed the back of his neck roughly. "Hey, Ogilvie!" he shouted to the radio opening hunkered down under the windows.  "Any word on that truck comin' to save our asses?" "Yeah, they said it's waitin' just outside of town, but we gotta cross the square to get there." The sergeant carefully peered through his binoculars out of a window facing west. "Good. I see it. Alright, Ogilvie, get ready to call in an airstrike. The rest of you, grab a sheet and get ready to run for your goddamned lives!"

And so, with much more speed than grace, Sgt. Dunleavy's squad ran serpentine and in single file across the wide square of Teinte Douce, Algeria, each man holding aloft a sheet of corrugated iron (Pvt. Moskovich wanted to carry two sheets to compensate for the loss of his helmet but found the weight too cumbersome) as bullets whizzed all around them, some even piercing through the sheets but, incredibly, not inflicting any injuries. On Sgt. Dunleavy's frantic signaling the men thrust away the sheets and scurried into the back of the idling Army truck waiting in the lee of a mud brick one-story house. The shooting continued even as the truck lumbered away into the desert. "Brother, what a getaway!" Ogilvie exclaimed, wiping his brow. "You said it, private!" seconded Sgt. Dunleavy. "Hey, Merriman, I think your idear with them iron sheets might've been either the smartest or the silliest I've ever heard! Good work, though!" "Thanks, Sarge!" Pvt. Merriman shouted over the rumbling of approaching bombers. "And you don't hafta be in Rome to do as the Romans did...just do it the American way!"

 

DB/7.2026 

 

Complete the Story 1

 

 

In the above book that I recently purchased one is given 200 opportunities to write a one-page story, but with each begun with a few sentences penned by some other author. I chose the one below at random, and my text follows the words "Every word-". The original title of this post was "Am I the Cheater?" because I'm essentially building on someone else's work, despite it not being all my own, yet not actually being cheating because that's what they want from me, for me to complete the story. And so my final answer to the question of "Am I the Cheater" is: Eh. Nah. It's only a mite of concern in the grand scheme of things, after all. *tsk* Conscience, man...

  I think I'll try some more of these from time to time, though this one was a bit hard to craft within such narrow limitations, but I did it. Hope you enjoy!

 

Juan Carlos brought a book for his weekly hour of leisure at his favorite local coffee shop. As he sipped his coffee on the overstuffed couch, he suddenly realized that he was reading and hearing the dialogue at the same time. He wasn't imagining those voices. No, they were coming from the couple at the table beside him. Every word-filled him with a feeling of awe as he listened to what they said. "Excuse me," he interrupted, "but I could not help overhearing, but--did you say you have found God and have found proof of His existence?" The couple, an attractive man and a woman both appearing to Juan Carlos to be in their mid-fifties yet appearing at least ten years younger, smiled brightly at him. "Why, yes, we have," the man replied. Juan Carlos clutched the cross-shaped indentation inside his button front Hawaiian shirt. "Tell me," he said excitedly, "is it the Holy Virgin? The Baby Jesu, or--" The woman chuckled and raised a halting hand. "Of course not, sir," she replied calmly, then glanced over to the man, who continued, "Simply put, sir, we see God in everything and everywhere--good, bad and ugly." "Could use a bit less of the ugly, though," the woman added as she bit into a biscochito cookie. Juan Carlos' face suddenly turned crimson with rage. "No! No! You are wrong!" he shouted as he stood up and moved quickly to the front door, then turned to the couple, thrust an accusing finger in their direction and a with final bellowing "WRONG!", jolting the shop patrons, crossed himself and slipped out into the torrid New Mexico heat.

     "Different strokes," the man said with a shrug, the woman chuckling again as she nibbled another biscochito.

 

 

DB/5.2026 

 

 

She Hides Her Face in the Blue Fan (Part 2)

 

  

"As I am a gentleman and your swain,

And have accompanied you thus far,

Lady Bellabella, I shall do so still, and most willingly." 

 

He bows, she smiles and curtseys.

"I am most grateful to you, my friend!

There is much more we may see tonight, 

  

So as much as I adore viewing these lovely Sybarite ruins 

We ought to continue our journey up and east 

If you are so inclined." She takes his hand,

 

He bows slightly. "The pleasure is all mine, " he says.

"But if I might be so inclined, would you share with me

your 'Carminatif' so that your precious little bunghole 

 

Shall not be our only means of transport--

So that we may rise higher and travel faster?" 

"No, not as yet, dear Florodon, but I thank you.

 

Now, let us fly on. Are you ready?" 

Florodon nods, and as Bellabella sips some more

'Carminatif' they grasp on to each other again.

 

Soon aloft, they wend their way due east across northern 

Hellas, floating onwards towards the silent, impressive

Mount Olympus, when a brusque, unseen force flings them

 

Far north, to the outskirts of Thessaloniki 

And as they dive rapidly to the earth

Bellabella quickly uncovers her bosom, and

 

Florodon's member thrusts violently

Into the soil of a rocky beach,

Jolting them both and hurtling them apart.

 

Upon their reunion, where they lovingly 

Affirm their welfare to each other, they both 

Jolt to see a woman's miles-long,

 

Alabaster-white arm reaching down to the Aegean

From an aperture in a dense cloud bank,

Her hand open, still and...awaiting.

 

From out of the roiling, frothing waters of the 

Aegean a man's sinewy arm jets up to grasp

The woman's hand, and as she pulls him up

 

Into the clouds water sluices off of the 

Bearded visage and the massive, naked frame 

Of the great god Poseidon,

 

His cock engorged as he is hoisted

Up into the clouds and is met

By feminine sighs of approbation

 

And masculine grunts of disdain.

But anon there is a din unheard of before

By Bellabella or Florodon, and even as

 

They seclude themselves in the lee

Of a rocky outcrop a nascent storm

Disturbs the once-placid night skies, 

 

And from amongst the prolonged grunts, 

Moans, barks, and howls cast from above,

With sweat, cum and blood raining into the sea

 

Along with a tumult of windy, stentorian farts,

It becomes violent enough so that Florodon and Bellabella 

Decide to quit Greece and fly elsewhere. 

 

So again the 'Carminatif', again the flight,

But soon they are blindly caught in the maelstrom

Of the Pleasure of the Gods

 

And whisked violently northwards, 

Nearly separating high up into the smoky clouds

That Florodon futilely attempts to clear away,

 

And in the attempt bats his hand against 

And with Bellabella grips onto a long, thin solid object.

He unexpectedly feels folds of flesh...and hears a woman's scream

 

Yawp over the winds...then a horrible cackle.

"Oohh! Do that again, boy!" a reedy voice demands. "Push up!"

"Or I shall drop ye and your schatze into the sea!

 

"Also I may suffer ye to take your chances with 

The violent Gottenorgie o'er us! But why should

The verdammten hochen Hellenes have all the fun!

 

"So do it, boy! Push up your hand beneath me!

Into me! Now!"  A frightened Florodon obeys, 

Eliciting mad sighs of pleasure as Bellabella

 

Hangs on next to him, feeling something akin

To jealousy, as they depart the aerial maelstrom

And in full view of clear, radiant moonlight

 

Both are shocked to be clinging to the

Broomshaft of a beautiful skyclad witch,

her wet skin glistening, dirty black hair whipping 

 

Behind her head as they fly northwards.

"Thank you, m'lad!" she shouts gleefully.

"That did me a welt of good! 

 

"For your reward I shall slow up 

And you may climb up behind me 

As we travel the rest of the way back home." 

 

"Home?" Florodon asked, wiping his hand. "My home!"

The witch exclaims. "North to the Brocken!

North to the Harz! North to Germania! North! North! NORTH!!"

  

To be continued...

 

DB/c.10.2025-3.2026 

 

Music: "...And the Gods Made Love" by Jimi Hendrix

 

 

 

American Girl from the North Country: A Sonnet

 

                                                           💖

 

"It's very strange for me now," he would say. "I'll be talking to someone and I'll overhear people saying, 'He was married to Mary Pickford.' And then someone else will say, 'Who was Mary Pickford?'

   "And that hurts me."

 

                                -Charles "Buddy" Rogers, actor and husband/

                                widow of actress Mary Pickford (nee Gladys Smith) 

(from "Mary Pickford: America's Sweetheart" by Scott Eyman (1990))

 

She was sunshine flooding from celluloid,

  Sometimes sisterly, daughterly or maternal,

She cavorted through the bichrome overjoyed,

  Nell in the flesh, Pollyanna eternal. 

A Darling in a Cocksure Age,

  From childhood she soon took a bow,

When with shears she broke her girlish cage-

  Cut!-and declared "I am a woman now!" 

As a nation gasped in disarray,

  She took more pay in hand, 

United the artists, then faded away,

  And the sun shone less upon the land.

But we can, from a cold silver and blue disc trove,

Find her again--laugh--cry--smile--and love.

 

DB/2.2026 

 

Music: "Mary Pickford" by Katie Melua 

Happy Valentine's Day, all you Stupid Cupids and Psycho Psyches!!😊💓

   

 

                         

                        

 

Tokens (Also Synonymous With Presents and Gifts)

 

 

 

        Candy Cane Hard and Snowfall Soft Holiday Mix, Vol.7 (Spotify)

 

1. White Winter Hymnal-Fleet Foxes

2. Wassail Song (Traditional)-The Philadelphia Brass Ensemble

3. All I Really Want for Christmas (from "Family Guy")-The Cast of "Family Guy"

4. The Twelve Days of Christmas (Live)-Straight No Chaser

5. Midwinter's Waltz-Nancy Lippincott

6. Hardrock, Coco, and Joe-Stuart Hamblen, Bill Lindsay

7. O Festivus-Paul Westbrook

8. The Chanukah Song Part 3 (feat. The Drei-Dels)-Adam Sandler, The Drei-Dels-Eight Crazy Nights (Original Movie Soundtrack)

9. A Christmas Carol-Tom Lehrer

10. A Japanese Christmas (Arr. K. Yamada)-Traditional, Rapid City Central High School Chamber Orchestra, Bruce Knowles

11. Joy To Your World-Drew Baldridge, Mickey Guyton

12. Christmas Eve/Oiche Nollag/High Road to Lincoln (Reels)-Eileen Ivers

13. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen-R. Carlos Nakai, William Eaton

14. New Snow-Flim & The BBs

15. You Can't Spell Christmas Without Us-Bob's Burgers, et al.

16. Sleigh Ride (fireplace)-Ludwig Bern

17. Wizards in Winter (Instrumental)-Trans-Siberian Orchestra

18. Hymne des Fraternises: I'm dreaming of home-Philippe Rombi, Natalie Dessay, London Symphony Orchestra-Joyeux Noel (Original Soundtrack)

19. The Coldest Night of the Year-She & Him

20. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas-Lee Ritenour

21. The Holly and The Ivy-George Winston

22. I Believe in Father Christmas-The City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra, Crouch End Festival Chorus

23. The Christmas Tree-C. Day Lewis

24. Song for a Winter's Night-Ingrid Michaelson

25. Gingerbread Man-Tommy James & The Shondells

26. We're Going Caroling-Dick Van Dyke, Jane Lynch

27. Bring On The Cheer-Jules Larson

28. Stille Nacht (Silent Night)-Mannheim Steamroller

29. Sing Noel, Sing Hallelujah-Michael W. Smith

30. Boxing Day-blink-182

31. Auld Lang Syne (The New Year's Anthem)-Mariah Carey

 

DB/12.2025 

 

The Happiest of Holidays to all of you! Have fun, stay safe, be cool, and I'll see you next year!🎄🎅🤶🎁⛄🍗🍷🎆💖