Pontifications of the Penis

A cross section of the penis as we know it

I have a penis so it goes that I'm man. That adores women. And admires men. So it means I'll get on my knees for the former. Not the latter. And for the most part, I enjoy wielding a penis. My penis. Not yours. Or yours. You sick bastard. I admit it's not the 15 incher most guys in their first flush of porn would crave for, but you can bet it's not something to pick your teeth with after you eat. More like a slow melting ice cream that doesn't melt ... kind of thing. 

Actually, I don't like the word 'penis' because it sounds so clinical, so formal, so I need to wear gloves before I use it sorta thang. I like 'cock' better. It sounds dirtier. More sinister. Infinite possibilities abound. And it also rhymes with 'rock' and partially with 'fuck'. The downside is that it also rhymes with 'lock' but who cares. I'll never rhyme cock with lock because it sounds a little offensive, and I just fucking hate sounding like some offensive 15 inch cock wielder. 

Which I'm not because I don't have the number. 15 to be precise. These days I've learned to be happy with what I have. Which means not having 15. That's what experience does to you. Or rather growing old. Sometimes though I can't quite tell the difference where one ends and the other begins or if it even started in the first place. And experience has taught me why I won't be content with 15.

Firstly, the surgery would hurt a lot. What's more, if I grafted a 15 incher, I might just get a massive stroke or heart attack whenever I get a boner, so that's no fun. 'Hey watch it honey, you don't want to turn me on! I might just die on you. But you can ride me after if you're into that.' What's more, if I had a 15 incher, it'll in all probability be black in colour. Like the Macbook out now. If you want a bigger hard drive, we only got them in black honeh! I may be Asian and all but big cocks are black. That's that man. I've never seen a 15 in any other colour. And, and I'd have to be all rapper like, wear big gold chains, swap my teeth for gold ones and get tattooed up. I'm just not into all that. Plus my rapping sucks and I can't play basketball or run really fast. So even if I had 15, it might be wasted on me. 

And the vagina can only fit up to about 6 inches. So what's the point of having a 7 course meal when the diner only wants 3 satisfyingly full courses? Yes, a vagina can stretch much wider to accomodate a child but let's not dismiss comfort and extraordinary circumstances so readily shall we. That niner is not just excess... it's waste. And I abhor waste! Having a 15 incher swaying on a windy day will just conflict with my intense sense of moderation and reduce me to schizophrenia, if not multiple personalities for me and my cock. The latter may have psychological problems pretending to be a stout 8'er when he really is a hefty 15. There are somethings you just cannot fool yourself about. 

A 15'er will never get the whole thing unless he's into horses. Even then, watch out for the kicks, cowboy! And, and, he won't be able to wear shorts in public that end at the thighs cos then the package will be showing. He would have no career in speed sports be it swimming or running because of the drag his cock caused. He cannot be terribly clever because most of the blood is usually swirling around his tower of cock. He would have to take many breaks to read, especially erotic stories. Even if 15 can be considered a super power, he can never have a cool superhero name because all of them will sound funny. Nobody will want him in their superteam and he will end up doing straight to video porno and die a lonely death naked in the tub in some cheap motel after overdosing on a potent mixture of viagra, cialis and cocaine with cheap German porn repeating silently on the television.

I guess it's hard being a 15'er too. 

Poor chaps. 

Spare a kind thought for the 15s yah? They're human too. 

Back to Basics

Ulu Yam
September 2008

New article at ARTiculations...

Hi everyone, ARTiculations... is launched in order to publish articles on contemporary issues. Navel Gazing will be kept for writings on other topics, as originally intended. Both myself and Mr Daef are the contributors to ARTiculations...

The latest entry at ARTiculations... is here.

Happy new year everyone.

Death

 

I am here. I do not know whether I am lying down, standing up or sitting down. I can just feel my existence although I cannot feel the usual rush of blood through my veins nor do I inhale and exhale. I feel like I am constantly floating, from a place to another, without boundary. I am sure I am in a room although I could not feel the constraints of 4 walls, a floor and a roof. If I look in front, I could see far and yonder although not before long I would be at the place I was looking at a moment ago. I seem to move, and move fast at that, although I feel I am stationary all the while.

If I proceed to touch the walls, I would know of their existence. But they lack stature as walls and as physical boundaries. The room is lighted. White, blue, bright and dark, shades of gray and black, dawn and twilight, constantly interchanging as my mind wanders and my emotions  vary. Speaking of which, the only tangible matter being present was my mind, and probably my emotions. The others are intangibles. It is as if I had lost all physical and biological matters. It is as if I am defying all laws of physic. It is as if there is no physicality to anything anymore.

After some time, I realise that I am free. I am free from all physical constraints. I am soaring. I am wandering in this huge matter of nothingness although at the same time I am aware of its fullness. I feel I am alone although I don't feel lonely. And although it is quiet I am not moved to seeking companionship. It is like I already have whatever and everything that I need. It is as if I am deeply satisfied. All my hopes, my expectations, my aspirations, dreams and fantasies are fulfilled just as I think of them.

And just as I am aware of my existence, I could feel Your presence. But I am not moved to seek to see You. Nor do I feel the need to touch You. Nor do I speak with or to You.

I finally understand You just as much as You finally embrace me. 

Something out of Nothing

Expectations. They cost nothing to conjure. It can be meaningful. It's usually whimsical. and plentiful. They are more easily felt than grasped, like gravity. Though it has no corporeal form, it has a great deal of force. The amount of force or weight of an expectation depends on the quality and/or quantity of persons. The more significant a person or the greater the number of persons, the heavier the expectation. The weight of an expectation can rival the weight of Atlas. Once an expectation is brought into existence it takes a life of its own. Sometimes it merges or fuses with the expectee's personality and lifestyle to the point that when the expectation begins and his life ends cannot be detected. It is possible to live entirely in an expectation, but it is not encouraged because there is no air in an expectation. Suffocation or asphyxiation is common within the expectation atmosphere if the weight does not first grind one's knee into the ground. An expectation is often misunderstood as a right. This is incorrect. An expectation is a wrong thought right. It can be about something impossible or possibly unnecessary. It is nothing but we make it something. We are good at making something out of nothing. We are not so good at making something into nothing. There is more litter in our attempts at annihiliation than the fruits of our creation.

Temple

Her body is my temple

Where I go to worship
To offer my body and soul
In return for Her sighs

The Space in Between

Thank you
for being
the space in between
the relentless drive for perfection
and my not caring a damn
for being
that pause in between
the deafening din of dreariness
and the sensual allure of flattery
for being
that long deep breath
that inhales you into me
and feel you as I would my second skin
for being
that fine line between
What it means to live
and what it means to be alive
Thank you
for being