Jump to content
Zachary_Holmes

A lover of poetry, inferior attempts to write it justly. - Writers Nook

Recommended Posts

Zachary_Holmes
Posted

The Death of Poetry!


A time of old where words roamed free,
Everyday poets expressed their glee!
Freedom of rhythm, alliteration and metaphors,
Figure of speech ruled at a time of many wars!
Letters washed upon shore, rearanged and presented,

A poet sales a raft held together by silly string,
A poet writes his best work in the dark,
A poet flys with a broken wing,
Poems, written upon my heart.

A new age where rhymes are only heard and seen in song,
In the top 40 chart is not only where they belong.
Poetry is as fragile as a flower,
Yet remains in lingering bloom annually, defiant to time, reluctant to cower.

There is an art to writing poetry, but no greater than the art of reading it correctly.


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

I love to hear a poet read his poems cos then you get to hear how he heard it in his head.

Yours os ok and I think I read it ok, but the second verse should be "A poet sails..." not a poet sales...."

I love the way you say a poet is hurt or injured when her writes cos I seem to write better poems when I want to get a bad feeling out of me than when I feel happy.

Thanks Steven


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

Hehe, thanks, i noticed the "sale/sail" part after i posted, kinda embarrassing haha! It's true what you say, it is always better to hear a poem from the person who wrote it. When i read other peoples poems i read them as if it was me who wrote them. I get a better picture when i do this.


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

FULFILLED

Can love exist untouched?
Can those unseen caress, yet be untouched?
Can distant lives entwine?
Can Eros' barb be hidden in a word?

Our bodies have not touched.
We have not spent our time in passions hot.
But you have kissed my mind,
Aroused in me feelings more deep than lust.

I read your words with care,
Learning, loving, absorbing all you teach.
Words I hold in my hand
Fly skyward, fall, then nest in mind and heart.

Somehow you touch me deep,
Fill my life's pool, yet leave the surface still,
Succour my very roots
Yet seek, demand, nothing in return.

Others have aroused me,
Evoked a baser need, awoke a lust.
Not love, but selfish need
My body sold to satisfy their love.

No love was nurtured, shared.
They loved themselves alone and had a need.
I searched for love. they knew:
And used my need to gratify their lust.

You feed my life with dreams,
Open my eyes to things as yet unknown,
Show me how things could be,
That life and love could yet be free, and clean.

You risk so much for me
If others knew they would not understand.
You'd stand condemned, pervert
They'd say, and shun, but never comprehend.

But I know what is true,
You ask for nothing, give to me so much.
Arouse in me a love
For life, for learning, and for future hope.

If I could kiss your heart
Return to you some part of what you give.
To lie in silken sheets
With him who stirs in me the wish to live.

Then I would be fulfilled.
But not as others maybe understand.
But in a simple way
Fulfill a love that makes my life complete..


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

wow...a lot of this echoes in my friendship with a high schooler here in the states.

Thanks for sharing, Dean. Your own writing...or...?


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

Wow, you must of been very deep in thought when writing this, I read through it and read it again and again until I completely grasped the meaning behind each and every line. I'm going to go on a whim and assume this is a personal poem. If that's the case then you really shouldn't worry about returning those feelings to said person your writing about. If they could read this poem or have the kind of insight to you that this poem portrays I'm sure they feel that your love is actually fulfilled.

This poem underlines that you realise that people are beautiful no matter age or looks and that connecting with a person and experiencing true love and synergy is all that matters. That when seen by others it is through a mist and unclear therefore misinterpreted. Your poem has deeper and deeper meaning behind each line the further you read on, I love it, well done! :3


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

I agree. I need to savor it some more. Steven gave it a few twists that I hadn't considered. Well down...BOTH of you!

Cause that's part of my issue: I'm a mature man...who's head over heels with an intelligent, caring soul...sharing many of my same interests. We've talked HOURS over the phone (5.5 hr conversation is our record) and will be meeting this summer. Still, there are these insecurities...realizing (poem here, Dean?) that I'm much older...will he want to be truly part of my life...will these become fleeting or a deep friendship...do I want to avoid sexuality so not to eff up a good FRIENDship...can one have both (do they need to)...I want so much to be a part of this person's growth...I care deeply...on a purely NON-abusive friendship, being very careful that I want I say/do is truly helping the other grow into the bright young man he is...and will become.

So, see, your poem, Dean, and Steven's reading, made me rethink my situation.

One can't ask more from a poem!


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

Thanks Steven that was real nice stuff to write. I don't think it is that good but you made me feel good reading your post


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

@DEAN & @ STEVEBL Hey, would either one of you consider CREATING a poem...utlizing the scenario I posted just above Dean's comment? I'd "pay" by inviting either or both of u to a fun-filled weekend our Nation's capitol city (Washington, DC!) LOL~


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

I will give it a go, I don't really know much about you but I will try my best to adapt the poem to suit you, I've already given it a try and have a nice opening verse and title.


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

Its finished, I won't post until I know your here to read it first! :3


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

WOW...cool.

Not that you want to change it, but to give you the details:

He just turned 16. I'm old enough to be his father...lol.

Yeah, when we first talked...I wanted to make sure who I was talking to...it lasted 5-1/2 hours! We've talked then, but can't seem to do it less than 2 hrs average. So we text a lot.

What struck me about him, was his rugged good looks at first. Then, I "fell" for our concidences. His interests mirror mine! It got to be so incredibly ridiculous, I was glad we found one (political) difference. It was like "Wow," thank gawd he's not my clone.

So what intrigues me about him, Steven? His INTEGRITY. His OPENNESS...vulnerability. His HONESTY (there's not much that I don't now know about him, from his FB account where I've interacted with some of his friends, pics of his parents, full disclosure of all issues he has, and just...well, as corny as it sounds, it's like, Steven, sitting down and talking to a good friend. I keep forgetting how old he is (definitely an old soul in a young bod) and when I talk to him, I forgot how old I am!

Sex, is something now, that I almost don't want to pursue -- neither of us is in a hurry -- as I don't want to eff up the friendship. I've been in sales and other business long enough to spot a phony from a mile away: this is about as genuine as it gets.

We'll be meeting later this summer. I and his best friend will do things one night (restaurant) then he and I will go to a local pride parade. Anyway, nothing as sickening to an outsider as hearing someone moon over someone else.

That's about it: "Your honest persona radiates out from you...that I hold back thoughts of fleeting sexual intimacy as I don't want to disturb the ebb and flow of our friendship...that far outweighs any momentary sexual pleasure."

Okay, see: I'm a writer -- def not a poet...LOL

(Thanks, Steven.)


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

Oh...and the really bizarre thing: we didn't meet here...we met on another website about our mutual interests. A conversation started...and at one point, he opened up and shared something about himself -- thinking distance was a safe bet...lol -- and we've been friends since.


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

Hmm, will post up what i wrote last night later today after work, in around 8hours. Hopefully it still fits, wrote it before the stuff you just said ofcourse so.


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

Its very hard to make a poem look as appealing and free flowing as it could be on a website that has many limitations to formats and layouts. The version I have on file looks very dreamy and cute, if you like this version I will email it to you, if you want me to try again please say and I will see what I can come up with.


~ A Silent Love ~


I have travelled the seas and the skys,
I have flown higher than the mountains,
I have seen man and woman wear disguise,
So far I have been, so much I have seen,
A silent love showered by enigmatic fountains.

Everybody tells me its wrong,
So why does it feel so god damn right!
Who are they to decide in whose arms we belong,
When our hearts beat in sync when in eachothers sight.

When true love, wears a fingerless glove.
Visions are clear, fates work is near.
Am I thinking fairytails, is love a boat that never sails?
All this doubting, a silent love is sprouting.

A fragile flower grows in the eyeline of a stampede,
Protected by a man knighted as Sir Care,
This is not just another good deed,
This means more than honey to a bear.

The stampede closes in, but they do not see sin.
From a distance things seemed clear,
Once within touching distance it was crystal.
Sir Care and the sprouting flower no longer need fear,
The echo of love spread as if blown from a whistle.

(The sprouting flower begins to bloom and speaks out to Sir Care)

I have not travelled the seas and the skys,
I havn't flown higher than the mountains,
I havn't seen man nor woman wear disguse,
So far I havn't been, so much I havn't seen,
An echoed love showered by glorious fountains.


~ The Echo of Love ~


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

WOW....blows my mind!

Nice how you weaved that in.

Can I ask a favor (says the greedy hungry man...lol)

Can you tweak it or change it to fit in any of those things that I mentioned?

Then I plan to FRAME the damn thing and give it to him!

(It also makes me to want to know u better too...lol)

Thanks for what you did, Steven!


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

Just reread it for about the third time.

So much to read...so many lines to think about.

(PS What's an eyeline stampede?)

Again, Steven, thank you...thank you...for reaching out with your pen/keyboard to reach into the recesses of my heart.

That reminds me of the famous story of Cyrano de Bergeac. Cyrano's love for the beautiful Roxane, whom he is obliged to woo on behalf of a more conventionally handsome but less articulate friend, Christian de Neuvillette.

Our relationship has a touche of that. Except ur the handsome guy but writing on my behalf since I'm less articulate, poetically speaking

[Side note: when I was checking facts on Cyrano on Google before writing this, I was surprised to find out he had a male lover! Then that lover had a thing for adolescent boys...lol. Oh, the coincidences of life...lol.]


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

"A fragile flower grows in the eyeline of a stampede"

The fragile flower is the boy, i'm sure you got that part, the stampede is the outsiders, the public, he is growing in line of the outsiders eye. The outsiders will see and know what he does and shall judge him upon it. I used the word stampede as its displays the recklessness of judging someone which outsiders would do after seeing you together from distance as the poem goes on later to explain.

Some other lines i'd like to explain how i perceived them are

"When true love, wears a fingerless glove."

When you wear gloves you fumble things, its hard to control things, its difficult to do quite alot of things, fingerless gloves are perfect, they keep your hands warm and give you the ability to do as you wish easily.

My comparisons should be easy to see now

Love -------------- true love
glove ------------- fingerless glove

"The echo of love spread as if blown from a whistle"

easy one i'm sure or?

Oh and the ending, what is in brackets should be removed, but, it needs to be know that the bottom part is the boy reciting the start of the poem in his own words to tailor himself and his feelings.


I shall attempt to add a couple more verses in but i shall keep this poem as an original piece as i i'm rather fond of how it flowed together neatly and i'm afraid more verses may complicate things or make it less sweet. Will respond with the extra verses and completed edited version soon!


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

Thanks, Steve. Yeah, I really liked it.

Thanks for the explanations.

When I get the complete version...I want to sit down...and s-l-o-w-l-y read...comprehend...and SAVOR your poetry.

Thank you, again, Steven

(PS let me know if u ever visit the states)


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

Not bad Steven, not bad at all.


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

IT'S NOT WRONG

Why do they say our love is wrong
Because you're twice my age and more?
The more the world condemns us both
The more I know our love is pure

What can I give, I have but youth
To pay you back for what you give.
Your wisdom, care and concern:
Encouragement to make me live.

I steal your wisdom for my own
I pick your knowledge as I need.
You help me grow and to mature
My seeking heart you help to feed.

Our tender moments oh too brief
A special time two bodies share.
A man and boy the world condemns
They cannot know, I do not care.

I know that what we have is good
Your age can bring what youth can't have.
The world may say that we are doomed
But I'll love you so long I live.


Share this post


Link to post
Zachary_Holmes
Posted

Wuhooo, thanks dean! Means alot, what i've posted on here so far are the only poems i've wrote that i've actually shown anyone and thats you guys, so i'm very unsure of my ability. I don't care though, i'm just glad you like them!


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

FULFILLED

Can love exist untouched?
Can those unseen caress, yet be untouched?
Can distant lives entwine?
Can Eros' barb be hidden in a word?

Our bodies have not touched.
We have not spent our time in passions hot.
But you have kissed my mind,
Aroused in me feelings more deep than lust.

I read your words with care,
Learning, loving, absorbing all you teach.
Words I hold in my hand
Fly skyward, fall, then nest in mind and heart.

Somehow you touch me deep,
Fill my life's pool, yet leave the surface still,
Succour my very roots
Yet seek, demand, nothing in return.

Others have aroused me,
Evoked a baser need, awoke a lust.
Not love, but selfish need
My body sold to satisfy their love.

No love was nurtured, shared.
They loved themselves alone and had a need.
I searched for love. they knew:
And used my need to gratify their lust.

You feed my life with dreams,
Open my eyes to things as yet unknown,
Show me how things could be,
That life and love could yet be free, and clean.

You risk so much for me
If others knew they would not understand.
You'd stand condemned, pervert
They'd say, and shun, but never comprehend.

But I know what is true,
You ask for nothing, give to me so much.
Arouse in me a love
For life, for learning, and for future hope.

If I could kiss your heart
Return to you some part of what you give.
To lie in silken sheets
With him who stirs in me the wish to live.

Then I would be fulfilled.
But not as others maybe understand.
But in a simple way
Fulfill a love that makes my life complete..


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

A Friend in Need

It had been a good day. Nicky had been to London. A bit of shopping in the afternoon and then to see “Phantom of the Opera”. Now he was curled up against the window on the last train back to Winchester. He had only just caught the train, it was just about to go. He settled down for the just over an hour journey to Winchester. The coach seemed empty, he had not seen anybody in it when he clambered in the door. He settled back for a quiet trip listening to his iPod.

It was a very uneventful journey until the train stopped at Basingstoke, the last stop before Winchester. Three noisy guys got on. Nicky guessed they were 17/18 years old. Although he was 15 the age difference seemed bigger than it was in years. They had been drinking and were shouting and laughing. They sat further back in the coach and Nicky was thankful. He closed his eyes as the train started moving again, lost in his music.

“What the fuck you listen to?”

Nicky jerked to full consciousness at the loud aggressive question. The three guys stood in the aisle looking at him.

“I asked you a question!”

“Just music” Nicky replied.

He moved, and the programme of “The Phantom” dropped to the floor. It was quickly picked up by one of the drunks.

“What’s this, you listening to this music? Thats queer music”

“No I’m not” replied Nicky. “It’s trance”

“Give us your iPod and I’ll see if you lyin’”

“No”, replied Nicky

“You wanna get done over or you gonna hand your iPod over? We’ll take you phone too”

“Leave him alone!”

This was a deep, mature voice that appeared to come from the next set of seats. It was not an angry voice, but sounded confident.

“Piss off old man” was the reply from the drunks.

A hand appeared on the arm rest followed by the uncurling of a body, that seemed to go on and on. Eventually a man of about 40, over six foot six and almost as broad as he was tall stood in the aisle and looked at the drunks. He slowly crushed the coke can he had in his left hand, with no effort.

“If there’s one thing I hate more than bullies it’s bad manners”

This was said with extreme confidence and a hint of menace.

One of the drunks moved towards the man, who seemed to grow another couple of inches. He was pulled back by his mates, and the three of them slunk off down the coach and through the door into the next coach.

“Thanks Mister”

“Welcome kid. I hate bullies and bad manners. Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yeah it was great” Nicky replied, the man sat down and they started to talk about the evening.

It seemed no time at all before the electronic voice announced the approach to Winchester.

“Sorry Mister I been gassing away. This is my station”

“I get off here too kid”

As they stepped down on to the platform Nicky noticed that the three drunks had also got off.

“How you getting home from here kid?”

“I’m gonna phone my mum and she will come and get me”

“How long will that take?”

“About 30 minutes I guess”

“Could I give you a lift home?”

“Ah” thought Nicky, “Here we go, another man hitting on him sexually.

“No I don’t think so thank you Sir”, he replied politely.

“Then I will stay until your Mum arrives. I don’t want to leave you on your own with those three around. They may take their revenge for me out on you”

Nicky had not considered that. He distrusted older guys after what had happened in the past, but tended to trust his own age group as he did not consider them a threat.

“I’ll be ok I’m sure”

“I’ll wait just to be on the safe side. I’d prefer to give you a lift, even to another spot where you can meet your mum, it will be quicker for me”

Nicky thought it over carefully. He didn’t like the idea of keeping the man waiting, but he was anxious about getting into a car with a man he did not know. In the end he made a decision.

“Ok then, take me part the way and drop me off, if it is on your way”

“I’m going to Southampton, so it is not far out of my way. By the way my name is Paul, and would you like to make a note of my car number before you get in, just so you can be sure I’m not up to no good kid. I expect you have been told never to get into a car with a stranger, but leaving you here might result in you being beaten up and loose your phone and iPod”

The two walked to the car park and Nicky noticed that the drunks were hanging around watching them go. They reached a big Jag and the lights flashed as Paul opened the doors remotely.

Get in kid, and tell me where to go”

Nicky explained where he lived and his route home.

“So if you find somewhere on that way that fits in with where you are going then drop me there and I will call mum”.

As they drove Paul asked Nicky about his hobby, school, his ambitions. He seemed to actually want to know. Nicky responded to the strange situation of having an older man actually interested in him for him, and not for sex. This had not happened since his Dad had died. He suddenly noticed that they were at Colden Common.

“This is not the way to Southampton”

“Yes it is, I can go through Eastleigh. We are almost at yours so if you are ok with it I’ll drop you home”

“You sure?” replied Nicky; “Its a bit out of your way”

I would not be happy dropping you off here in the dark at gone midnight. It’s just trees and fields around here, a bit dangerous for a kid your age to be wandering around. I never did ask, how old are you 16?”

“I’m 15” Nicky responded.

“Shit, I can see why you were nervous. It was wrong to ask you to get in my car. I thought you were 16. Look your mum might be wondering why you haven’t phoned, so why not give her a call and let her know you got a lift. I will explain things to her if you want, when I drop you off”

“Oh I’ll phone, but she won’t be worried, she never is. She’ll just be glad she didn’t have to come out: and have another drink”

“I’m sorry Nicholas. you got a few problem I reckon”

“I’m kewl, and nobody ever calls me Nicholas, except my Gran when I’m in trouble. Everybody calls me Nicky”

“Ok Nicky it is, and I think we are almost at your home, you better direct me I don’t know this area at all. And can you tell me how to get back to the main road after as well?”

Nicky directed Paul to the end of his road, and the explained the easiest way back to the main road, the way he had to walk to the nearest bus stop. He had stopped Paul going into his road so he would not know which house he actually went in to. He still had a suspicious streak despite the way Paul had helped him.

“Thanks for everything Paul, on the train; and the lift”

“No probs Nicky,thanks for your company”

The car turned and slowly drove off into the night and out of Nicky’s life for good.

He sighed. Paul had been an OK guy after all. He felt bad about not trusting him. he also thought he was a real neat looker, big and broad. With another sigh Nicky walked to his house and turned the key in the door. His mum was in the front room a two thirds empty bottle of white wine on the small table next to her. Her large glass half empty too. She must have had quite a bit in the short time since he had called, or she had been drinking earlier and so would have driven drunk. It had happened before. The way she was speaking Nicky guessed it was the latter.

“Your late” was the greeting he received

“Sorry Mum the show was long. I got back as quick as I could. I better get to bed I got church in the morning”

Whilst this was true, it was a convenient excuse to get away from his mum to the safety of his room.

A quick shower and he slipped into his bed, the cold sheet surprising his naked skin. He soon dropped off into a peaceful dream filled sleep. The Phantom was in love with him, but when the mask slipped it was Paul!!!

The cricket season had not started too bad for Nicky. At the start the wickets were often too damp to take much spin, so he had only bowled a few overs and taken just one wicket. He had managed to score a total of 60 runs in four games. Now he was off to play a new team in the league. It was at their ground so he had no idea what the wicket would be like. He had his usual lift and arrived with little time to spare as usual. Why Damian always left it so late he never knew. They lost the toss and had to bowl so Nicky was once again stuck out near the boundary. Being short he was not good at fielding close in. He was pushed out on the boundary where his height was not so important and where his speed round the perimeter could be useful. The faster bowlers did a reasonable job and the score was kept low, but they were getting tired from their efforts: time, Nicky thought, for the medium pace bowlers.

It was a big surprise when Nicky was called over and thrown the ball. He had not expected to be asked to bowl today. He thought the wicket was too wet. He walked back his few paces with his back to the batsman, turned and started his short run in. He looked the batsman in the eyes and then stopped running. It was Paul! The umpire looked puzzled, but indicated a dead ball. Nicky gathered himself and went back to his mark. He started his short run in once more.

Paul was a left-handed batsman, which Nicky did not like too much. His first two balls dropped outside the off stump and Nicky was surprised to see the ball nip back quite sharply. Twice he so nearly got between bat and pad or got an inside edge, but each time Paul just managed to jab the bat down hard and stop the ball just in time. The third ball was down the leg side, just outside Paul’s pads. It was a bit faster and Paul moved to attempt a leg glance to get it away. He missed; the ball spun sharply, the leg stump went flying. This was the bit Nicky hated, all the hugging from the other players. To him a hug from a man had another meaning, and it could produce a feeling he did not want the other players to know about. He had been hugged, and more, against his will on more than one occasion. Paul walked up the wicket towards the pavilion. As he passed Nicky he tapped him on the bum and Nicky heard: -

“Nice bowling kid”

Nicky blushed and said nothing.

At the end of the home teams innings Nicky avoided the tea that was always provided at the break. The last thing he wanted was to bump into Paul. He was glad to see the umpires walk out for his team’s innings. Now he could relax as he didn’t bat until number eight, and he hoped he would not be needed today. As it happened things were closer than he had thought. His team were getting near a victory, but their fast bowlers and their spinner were good. WIth 20 runs still needed they were down to only 6 overs left when another wicket fell and Nicky had to bat.

He nicked the fast bowler for two fours and a single. The following over he took a couple to two’s off the spinner. only seven more runs and still four overs. They should do it. He only needed a few runs off the faster bowler and he could win the game for the team. Then there was a bowling change. They brought on a different bowler; Paul!

Nicky expected that Paul, as he was six and a half feet tall and four feet wide, would be a fast bowler. He was wrong. Paul was medium pace and as a result his first ball reached Nicky just a bit later than he had expected. He was into the stroke too soon and could not correct in time. The ball went high in the sky. It looked like it would be a six. That would leave only one more run to win. Nicky was wrong. Their fielder on the boundary was almost as tall as Paul, an Afro-Caribbean guy, who rose high into the air and plucked the ball from the sky keeping safely in his hands. Nicky was out. His head dropped and he started to walk off. As he passed Paul at the other end he heard him say.

“Looks like we bowled each other over today kiddo”

Nicky went bright red but did not reply.

His team did win with two wickets to spare so the end result was good. Nicky was in a desperate hurry to get away, to avoid Paul, but Damian wanted to talk as usual. Try as he might, by hiding in corners and round the back of the pavilion, he eventually bumped into Paul.

“Hi kid, I’ve been looking for you. How did you get here?”

“Damian brings me in his car”

“Could I take you home? It is on my way and I enjoyed talking to you the last time, please”

How could Nicky refuse? He was trapped. The guy had got him out of a big mess on the train, and then again at the station. How could he say no, and be rude? But he was worried. He didn’t want to be trapped in a car with a man he did not know, but who kept appearing in his dreams. The man who he could not get out of his head. The man who made him fluff his first bowl!

“OK then, I’ll have to tell Damian”

“Of course Kid, you know my car. I’ll wait there for you”

The drive home would only take about 30 minutes and the conversation was almost entirely about cricket. It seemed Paul had been playing longer than Nicky had been alive. The sun was still bright, and shining in the drivers side, so Nicky could not see Paul’s face well; just a dark shape with a bright halo of light around it. They were not far from home when Paul pulled onto a lay-by high above Morestead Down. He stopped.

“Nicky could I ask you a personal question?”

“Here we go”thought Nicky, his hand on the door handle to get out as quick as he could.

He was not that far from home and he knew he could walk from here, if he could get his cricket bag out of the boot of the car.

“What”, said Nicky rather sharply.

“Hey don;t get so aggressive. I just wondered where you realised you were gay”

“What... I.. Umm... er”

“Hey it’s not a big problem. When you are gay you can just sort of sense when somebody else is. SOme people call it Gaydar. I sort of wondered when I was 15/16, but didn’t really know for sure until I was 16/17. You seem to know, but at the same time you are scared of something. No need to reply if you don’t want to. You probably think I am a dirty old pervert anyway, but I was not hitting on you. I was just curious about why you are so apprehensive about being around men. Perhaps you don’t like older guys”

“No thats not it...... I mean.... Im not... well I prefer....”

“You prefer what?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Ok then, how about this. I have tickets to see Buddy at the Mayflower next weekend. Would you consider coming with me? It is a matinee show so maybe we could have something to eat after and then I’ll drop you home. If you can get into Southampton by bus it would help me as I don’t finish work until one o’clock”

Now this was something Nicky had not expected. Just like that slower ball in the cricket match. It was also a show that he really wanted to see, but could never have afforded a ticket. However he would be with this guy in a dark theatre for at least a couple of hours. But then this was the man who had helped him out twice now. But he had also said he was gay. But he was a nice guy anyway. Round and round went these thoughts until Nicky suddenly found himself blurting out:

“OK then I can get in by one o’clock and wait for you outside the Mayflower.

tbc


Share this post


Link to post
Posted

Then Paul was gone. However he hung around in Nicky’s dreams and fantasies for the entire week.

The show was as good as Nicky had wished. At the end, along with others, he was up, in the aisle singing along with the music. He had a wonderful time. Paul remarked that he thought Nicky came alive when he was singing and dancing. He had expected Paul to do something during the show. Maybe touch his thigh, or rub his thigh against Nicky’s, but nothing at all happened. Nicky was confused, and also puzzled at to why he felt disappointment. Outside Paul said: -

“Lets get something to eat. I know a few decent restaurants, or we could get a take away and eat it in the park” Paul paused “or at my place?”

“Can we get a Chinese. I’ve got enough for that”

No problem, but this is my treat”

They found a Chinese, one that Nicky did not know of. Rice each and a main, with some sweet and sour King Prawns as well. The walked to the car park and got into the car. Paul started the engine.

“Where do you want to eat it. We could go to Mayflower Park, or down by the docks?”

“Could we go to your please? Nicky replied, blushing again.

“I’d love that Nicky”

Nicky looked at the floor of the car, his face bright red; his heart pounding.

“My Mum is out tonight” Nicky whispered, leaning against Paul’s strong left arm encased in an expensive jacket. “So I can stay quite late!!!!!”


Share this post


Link to post

×