The Dreaming Tree: 2010

Thursday, March 4, 2010

We've moved

Hi there readers!

We decided to buy a domain and move :) I now blog here

http://www.warmtongue.com/

All my old posts have moved there as well, in case you wish to browse the archives. Do bookmark the new URL!

Thanks for visiting and as always, your opinions are welcome.

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Sunday, February 7, 2010

Love Handles

You don't stop pumping,
It's a fair way to the peak,
That violent climax, the perfect carrot,
Dangling in front of your beaded brow,
You grip her harder, she whimpers,
You smirk, such is our love,
Your thighs scream for mercy,
Your heart reminds you of all that metal,
She knows you're inching closer,
The anticipation grows,
A little more, a little harder,
More intense than ever before,
That last drop of sweat drops off of your chin,
Onto her shimmying body,
And as that final gust wind greets you at the top,
You know nothing can wipe that grin off your face,
There are few things as orgasmic,
As a well earned downhill,
And fewer things I love more than Mother Gravity.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Hump Ahead

This is inspired by my daily bicycle commute to work in Bangalore.

Note: Well mannered drivers please excuse.

I'm no swanky motorist, no gutsy over-speeder,
I just stick to the pavement, I'm the bottom feeder,
But when my butt is off that saddle and safely on my bed,
I curse and scream and choke your memory till it is cold and dead.

You know who you are, on your zippy bike,
Of all the torture in my head, you know what I'd really like?
To take your scruffy, grinning face and feed it to a ravaging mutt,
Take your charred exhaust pipe and stick it up you butt.

And you know who you are, Mr. Classy IT guy in a sedan,
Oh how many poseurs I've seen from your mighty clan,
How I'd like to pick you apart in debugger mode,
Parse you through a paper shredder into a million bits of code.

And you know who you are, SUV metro boy with a chick,
(By the way, we know you bought that Pajero to make up for the tiny dick)
If only your driving was half as good as your dressing sense,
I'd spare your manhood of the excessive violence.

And as you ignore my obscene rebel yell,
I know for sure that, with me, you too will burn in hell,
Just that your oh-so-pretty broads and better halves,
Will be ogling at my bulging quads and feeling up my calves.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Happiness is a Warm Tongue

So the other day I was feeling rather down,
With global warming and Copenhagen and white versus brown,
When I felt this squishy nose poking my butt,
And turned around to see this ecstatic mutt.

No, seriously, this was the happiest dog I ever saw,
And he began to jump and shove and lick and paw,
In canine worship he pranced around,
Till I grabbed his ears and held him to the ground.

But that tail wagged on, it only got faster,
With eyes that adored his new found master,
And a tongue that darted at his closest skin,
Love that I love remembering.

It took me some time to notice his unstable walk,
How he rocked and swayed like a sunflower's stalk,
In a gloomy, windy, monsoon mess,
That cheerfully shone nonetheless.

Turns out the dog as happy as a college kid with a beer keg,
Was actually missing his right fore leg,
What joy it gives me when I recall,
The 3 legged dog, who was blessed after all.

The Dreaming Tree