Aidin writes poetry on her StumbleUpon site. Her poetry is always evocative, often erotic, sometimes wry and never, ever mundane.

Aidin's Stumble Upon screen name: CherishMe

Some samples:

I'd rather be remembered
for the
strength of my character
than the
strength of my heart.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Just because you've
come across me
alone on this swing,
it doesn't mean
that you're entitled
to what my playground
has to offer.

Stop trying to push me
and maybe,
just maybe,
I'll meet you later
on the slide.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Tonight I long to be
skin on skin
heat upon heat
just let me in.

Let me tangle
my fingers
deep into your veins

Let my need
find it's voice
and get into this game.

Let my wish
twine the length
of your duty to me

Let my heart
set the beat
to our symphony.

Let our ache
take on form
and thwart all that is right

Let our tongues
taste all wrongs
like the sweetest of wine.

Let our love
test the waters so
it knows that it's living.

Let our souls
dance as free
as the will we've been given.

Tonight I long to be
skin on skin
heat upon heat

just let me in.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I should
tie up
my tongue
with a
licorice
whip just
to punish
it for
longing to
taste you so.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
That thing you do
does this thing to me.

Deftly,
darkly,
it bends my six senses
and twists tight my reason.

:::

That touch you have
always touches me.

Softly,
lightly,
it shatters my free will
like emotional treason.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I feel
inadequately dressed
to be holding back
the gates of hell.

Yet I'm resolute
and stoic.
The chill rolling
off of me
so glacial that I
believe it might
create that snowball
in Hades
we've been praying for.

No matter, though,
for as strong as I am,
even denied of my glance,
you open your mouth
and say something stupid
again.

Bloody hell.

The Man Who Loves Women

I couldn't find much out about the artist, Fabian Perez, except that he's Argentinian and has traveled all over the world. I find his paintings of women sensual, respectful and romantic.

He has an extensive gallery of work on his site FabianPerez.com

Here are a few of my favorites:

Analie

Selling Pleasures
When the Story Begins

Breathtakingly Beautiful Sculptures from Martin Eichinger

Gaia's Breath
by Martin Eichinger

Cross My Heart
by Martin Eichinger

You can see more of Martin Eichinger's work and the spectacular works of many other Romantic artists at the Quent Cordair Fine Art Gallery website.

The Westerner

This is a slightly edited version of the poem, The Westerner by Badger Clark

The Westerner

My fathers sleep on the sunrise plains,
And each one sleeps alone.
Their trails may dim to the grass and rains,
For I choose to make my own.
I lay proud claim to their blood and name,
But I lean on no dead kin;
My name is mine, for the praise or scorn,
And the world began when I was born
And the world is mine to win.

They built high towns on their old log sills,
Where the great, slow rivers gleamed,
But with new, live rock from the savage hills
I'll build as they only dreamed.
The smoke scarce dies where the trail camp lies,
Till the rails glint down the pass;
The desert springs into fruit and wheat
And I lay the stones of a solid street
Over yesterday's untrod grass.

I waste no thought on my neighbor's birth
Or the way he makes his prayer.
I grant him a good man's room on earth
If his game is only square.
While he plays it straight I'll call him mate;
If he cheats I drop him flat.
Old class and rank are a worn out lie,
For all clean men are as good as I,
And a king is only that.

I dream no dreams of a nurse-maid state
That will spoon me out my food.
A stout heart sings in the fray with fate
And the shock and sweat are good.
From noon to noon all the earthly boon
That I ask anyone to spare
Is a little daily bread in store,
With the room to fight the strong for more,
And the weak shall get their share.

The sunrise plains are a tender haze
And the sunset seas are gray,
But I stand here, where the bright skies blaze
Over me and the big today.
What good to me is a vague "maybe"
Or a mournful "might have been,"
For the sun wheels swift from morn to morn
And the world began when I was born
And the world is mine to win.

Quotes for the Day

A desire presupposes the possibility of action to achieve it; action presupposes a goal which is worth achieving.
-Ayn Rand

No dreamer is ever too small; no dream is ever too big.
-Unknown