“Percy Sledge Sang” When a man loves a woman, can’t keep his mind on nothing else, he’ll change the world for a good thing he’s found. If she is bad he can’t see it, she can do no wrong; turn his back on his best friend if he puts her down. If she plays him for a fool he’s the last one to know, loving eyes can never see...
Today it’s not the words that I’m feeling; it’s the feeling from the words, I know the gut always takes what it wants, and it takes guts to swerve off the road of one’s own destiny. I think sometimes I try to blame failure on the shame; the truth was I probably was to tame to turn the tide for the ride with this woman. It was like being inside a Niagara Falls barrel slipping over the edge endlessly tumbling head over heels, spinning, falling and waiting, knowing the final impact would shatter the protection inside, an the impact from this love would be fatal to the heart. From a preconceived sexy splashdown into a sorrowful pit called loneliness. Nonetheless it didn’t stop me from trying to make strait lines turn; trying to stop a heart on fire from feeling loves famous burn. Flames always catch fire when a weak man lies next to a woman’s strong desire; I think I knew all along that her pink pond would eventually drown me. But for the present I said who cares right? She’s frigen hot. I convinced myself that I wouldn’t miss her once she’s was gone. So what if a picture of her is tattooed on the inside of my eyelid, that doesn’t mean I fell for her, right? So what If I spend all my time and movements throughout the day preparing for our next meeting with endless anticipation, that doesn’t prove that she’s been virally planted deep in my skull. And when she comes in close proximity to me and concrete butterflies fills my words from my stomach to my mouth, that just proves concrete butterflies can’t fly, right? Perhaps I’m a horn dog who believed he had wings and could eventually fly with this beautiful breasted robin, so what? Oh what a fool I’ve been falling in love again, whom I kidding. Why must the heat from such a luscious woman retreat into embers of slow smoldering friendships? I’m so tired of trying to stoke the fires of something that should be blazing like the sun, something that should heat up to match the way love can burn. Someone must have created a crème with an S.P.F. 100 that women use on their heart. They’re just intent on not getting burned. But that also prevents the soul from being warmed.
I’m older now and I realize man never stood a chance against the woman. Their scent, their skin, their lips and eyes and hair, fifteen drinks of courage and still she had the most beautiful lies I’ve ever heard. And that incredible feeling we men get during sex; how is it possible for women to feel that f-in good. I understand why all women wish for one night they could know what it’s like to have a man’s dick and a cheating heart. I tell you girls you definitely got the short end of the stick, “please forgive the pun” because although you may have the better feeling organ, you need ours to understand just how absolutely incredible it feels! No amount of imagination will suffice, the real feeling inside of you is incomparable. And those envelope me slowly in tongue deep kisses, fresh with a wanting breath that seizes your swollen lips, oh to die for. Those little nibbles on the ear lobe with their warm exhales that brings a man to his knees and changes his life forever, or at least until morning, and of course the built in sweet pink slide down a woman’s life, God it’s great to be a man. Nothing else in life will ever dance this close to those moments of music strung by a woman’s heated up heart. A woman in the mood can make a man finish love making faster than a lap down the quarter mile in a Dragster. Still one has to wonder why such a devious mind has been planted and intertwined into that one time pretty little shy girl curls. Lets just say it, you’ve come a long way baby. Insecure but still a major manipulator, the weaker sex but able to break a lumberjack’s heart with just a toothpick between those lush lipstick lips, protect me kind sir for I am so frail and weak she say’s; while spinning her master plan of destruction right into his unprotected heart hole. Perfume masquerading with mascara as a painted masterpiece of pleasure, just prior to the ignition of her
Hiroshima bomb of love she has just dropped. Poor big lug never stood a chance the other women say. I’ve heard he hugs trees now and cries in the middle of the forest night just like a lost baby. Poor bastard just didn’t see it coming, whoa, hold on girls look at that one that just came in, I’d like to take a few chops of his spruce tree, and afterwards throw his remains and memories on the fire to keep me warm on those long winter nights. And of course laughter falls out of all of their mouths.
Why? That’s all I want to know girls is why, why must you help in your own self destruction of love with the man of your dreams. Why must you destroy your life long girlfriend’s relationship over an evening with a male stranger? Why is so important to you to mislead even your greatest admirers. Cut the heart that loves you, break the trust closest to you, can you understand that the beauty on your outside is capable of soaking all the way to the inner side of your soul. When a man loves a woman and shares your body and secrets, the universe collides with his heart and he’s willing to die three times for you because he believes you deserve it. But death just isn’t enough for you is it, you immediately think there must be more, always more. In fact enough is never enough is it, at least until love comes to you and someone uses you as the city dump, then it’s a completely different story hey? You’re such a beautiful self destructive explosive device and just as unstable as a vile of nitro glycerin, so clean, so pure, and so unpredictable deadly. Power sometimes becomes self imploding.
But still us men cannot and will not live without you. How could we, your better than us, you just have more flaws. For the many faults that you do have, you have ten times that in a delicate and delicious wonderment. You own the most powerful weapon known to exist on a planet of men. That incredible pink slide of life, if women ever figure out that not only are they good enough for us men and simultaneously lose there addiction to insecurity, perhaps they’ll realize the fact they are way out of our league. You’re so much cleaner, lovelier, capable of incredible warmth, and just maybe if you let the sunshine wash away the need for your own misery nothing in the world could hold back that essence of a woman. Not sunrises, no sunsets, waterfall dancing or hummingbirds hovering, not gold or silver shadows phantoms and Ferraris, not even rainbows in a warm mist of gentle rain can sustain the inner sanctum of a woman who is willing to also be really good human.
I’m back on the market again after another devastating crash of the heart, and my mom wants to know why I’ve been such a shit to women lately. She says I should open up more to women, try to understand the gentle side of their heart, being a man is learning to be kind and sweet to the girls, you’ve got to take chances, take care of them she says, allow yourself to fall in love, become vulnerable and you’ll never be sorry. Spoken like a true member of the other team, thanks mom.
So mom I replied; I just have to ask you one thing mom; as a mother how can you pitch for the other team after the hell I’ve been through? Don’t you know some of the women out there are like sharks or barracuda’s, nuclear device’s just waiting to go off; they have the ability to make the holocaust feel worse. Hell mom; remember dad ended up shooting himself in the mouth after telling you your new dress made you look fat.!
That’s because it didn’t make me look fat she replied; and I’m not sure if it really was suicide, but I know one thing, that bastard won’t say that to me or any other woman again!
What are you saying mom, did you murder my father? Well she replied; let’s just say I get a lot of complements on this dress now days, besides you know what they say; “women” can’t live with em’ can’t live without them, you just can’t live. Ha, ha, ha, ha. By the way son, do you think I look fat in this dress?
What the hell ma! Really, I’m your own son and no, of course that dress doesn’t make you look fat. But in my head I heard a small insignificant voice whisper “if you don’t think a greyhound bus is very wide.
