Saint

I rarely post in here anymore. No time. Been working on my book for almost forever. Casey, blueangel, was one of two (her & Mitch), a two, when merged, could erupt giant fireballs of cream from their single, golden halo and melt Voltron with but a glance broken from a French kiss. I remember the first time I met her and Mitch. It was in...in...in Twilo, I believe. Yeah, it was Twilo. I was with CrystalMethod and a few other CNYC peeps, waiting around for the beats to frolick amidst our skin follicles. They looked like they were teenagers. Crazy young, energetic, boisterous...living large and high on traces of life. Casey and Mitch decided to work on the cover of my book a while back. We'd been talking back and forth, exchanging ideas and visions. Our discussions and meetups were brief, but intriguing. They were a couple of adornement, resembling the Three Stooges and Harry & Sally (from the movie When Harry Met Sally). If you loved one of them, you loved the other, because they were joined at the pupil. With Casey gone, the world has been void a soul of peace. Being a few blocks from the WTC, I expected to know some people that were in the building...but not her. To keep this post as short as possible, I will end here: The world is full of soul Our lands, blessed with hope Let us cling to life like barnacles And follow our spirits home Casey, save me a glass of heaven, for I'll be seeing you momentarily. Peace luv...peace...Saint!!!

I will be looking for artists (writers, at the moment) that are...different. Many have skills on this board but are unable to get their stuff out there. If you're interested in being published one day, let's hook up sometime and discuss our visions. Saint!!! www.stjamesr@hotmail.com

...me Seek Find my abacused rhymes Inhale the sweat of testicular times Wade your tongue billowed tastepools Question the mental of those that never pull Drag switch perspectives with cannabis heads Every line I write but a manifest (Sup sup. For those that don't know, I'm Saint!!! Been clubbin since I was 13, back in the days. Limelight was my first club...Palladium...original Sound Factory...past times of good times. The old heads on this site knew me through the sex shit that I popped, my intricacies--specialities. Now they will get to know the entirety...For those that know, I have been writing a book. I have yet decided who I will sell my book to, for mainstream society will not understand the symptoms I display whithin it's papyrus. I know, however, that many of you will feel my words, for I have bled sweat with clubheads and extremists alike...and within each of their eyes, a demised sunrise of truth rest in their pupils. We are shunned by those who've developed malnourished morals. We eat and savour the cries of a clitoris done right. We drink and let the soul in Gods mother highlight our ciphers. We are merry and gag, on the world. To the underground: My home. Recluses in truth How we all bite with the same tooth The suguar-tooth of bass The illuminated rays caressing our face The mist of lust employed by our cocks Who shall the prophets summon to heaven...the lost...the brethren...the heathens, give-in's for existence Survival of the sin'est sinner Whom else shall tongue my woes? Whom else vibes my flow? Schizophrenic symptoms...we are...like them Saint!!! sin

I'm a guy, so yeah, I love me some tang Drop a coat on my boat...BANG!!! Create worlds in my tongue furl Squished grapes in toe curls The omnipotent clitoral binky Figure in some math with my nutsmack-attack Like you said Mofo's are wack like an asscrack Opinions are the minions of effect beCause I drained my balls into pink sinks My children sink deep in drains that I banged They did the math and had a blast with my thang tappin their brain Bing Bing goes my thing on thonged things Never came till I saw jaws opening I feel for you but your man got this mental Problems from his past...you see he stares at your hair like it's replaceable Couldn't see what we see through this screen You got that beauty that makes bitches moody. Yeah, it's a past but the past catches up to the sucka that flash-backs on their past Trust me You will have the last laugh...Saint!!!

Sex Music I wink at a slow beat and sink into melodies Fuck it raw with my ears What is fear but a long lost parody next to harmony? In my grave I will slave in holy raves Take hits of celestial beats Sucking on the titty of endless centuries I will climb the thighs of compromise and drink enharmonic rhymes Iyyy Iyyy Iyyy put to beats Dancing feet wrapped by aching backs Fling your hips into the tarmac of atmospheres The most high is near when your fear runs for cover Hide behind vaginal folds The pink ozone is a clone of your foe when you're exposed to the truth that music can rule you like a lion in a jungle Give in to the crave to rave Blue-balls in your bones make you ache Sweat like a fat man on a dune That glowy thing when you cum is a typhoon zooming off the crossfight of the stars in your sky If you feel what I write the you've witnessed the disguise of my might...trapped in caramel skin Where's a WITNESS Amen? Who can spend their breathes in a poem like the ocean? Close your eyes and devise in your mind a dream as I make you cream This has never been written as it's seen before thee Only I can trap the skies between my pinky and it's nail Watch me prick my veins like the lamb that hanged for us to reign like the hip-hop of droplets on a rock Can I stop Like life NEVER! Saint!!!

I've run across women that have never masterbated. I've banged into ladies on the street that hate penetration. I've even met this one girl that said the only way she gets off is if her pussy lips are squeezed by her partners nails. Obviously, there's some unique mofo things that get people off. For the most part, if you're doing something that feels fu(K!n good to me, I'ma emit soon enough. However, the strangest freakin phenomenon for me is when I run into women that say they've never, you know, been electrocuted by heaven. I can do nothing but feel for those women. Are there women on this very board that have never been boinked by radiant flashes of petroleum fire? Please, please say no...Saint!!!

Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, HELL YEAH!!!! Shit, what'ya think I'd say? Hope your marinating your tongue in a basin of sin, cause this fallen mofo can burn you like inscense. Saint!!!

I lurk towards special appearances Sup sup. Just trying to get back into doing normal things. Been crazy busy doing poet-type-stuff. Almost finished my first book...almost...shit. Anyways, I've been out of the whole club scene for ages trying to get down to business, and I'm almost ready to get back into things. You'll be seein me around...Saint!!!

JennEfer Funny, never called anything...'poetry' Never labeled your rhymes...monotony Never hijacked an asscrack for dollar stacks Never wiggled my stick like a prophet What I did done did WAS prolific Just one hit of my dick vein you'll witness What I am will be and always shall be seen I am the memory of your fallen poetry Not that your shit IS shit But a poet knows the difference and stays silent For every word turns to verbs in a certain context Every mattress that I freak on gets wet Every drop that I spit is milky substance Drink my beverage for a decent boneage Saint!!!

The suckage is amazing when I'm on the phone. It's like, I'm on an important fucking phone call and all of a suddenly my freakin loins are being tickled by the yummy wetness. It's fuckin great! Sex, well, shit...I can't speak for everyone, but as the minutes pass, like a tree glistening in the sun growing ever so gently, so to, does thy techniques. One favorite of mine is the mouthification. It's fly tongue-kissin the yummy high flyness when it's just your tongue...just your single, solitary, itty-bitty fuckin tongue that brings destruction to a woman's defense mechanisms. Anyways, enough blab, those who are familiar with me know I can keep going...Saint!!!

It happens every now and then The heavens emit false erections With our mouths wide open, we swallow these perceptions as orgasms Fondling my nuts like the sun atop horizons at dusk, we fuck, me, the Earth, and the sky, the afterbirth of a God's whisper Who gives the jitters when a tongue flickers tastebudded whiskers on pink pussycaps Only the oldschool cat that taints morals with dickslaps Saint!!! Saint!!! Who the fuck be this drifter, the giver of shameless bliss, the forecaster of creamed thongs, the owner of platinum bongs and golden cannabis smoke? WHAT THE FUCK, BE YOU DEAF? Have you not inhaled my scent? Your erection is but dead in my Pinocchio silhouette I am the blush in your pussy Who had the liberty to envy my dignity Only the lucky Only the lucky charmed my third arm Polish my mushroomed-fist with a kiss of your dripping lips Horny I be like a rosy bush Like Sumo, I push And push And blow your labia down to the ground to its knees—it’s lips Boned like a skeleton Consuming tear-moistened cheeks, I devour her meat…to the bone Saint!!!

It happens every now and then The heavens emit false erections With our mouths wide open, we swallow these perceptions as orgasms Fondling my nuts like the sun atop horizons at dusk, we fuck, me, the Earth, and the sky, the afterbirth of a God's whisper Who gives the jitters when a tongue flickers tastebudded whiskers on pink pussycaps Only the oldschool cat that taints morals with dickslaps Saint!!! Saint!!! Who the fuck be this drifter, the giver of shameless bliss, the forecaster of creamed thongs, the owner of platinum bongs and golden cannabis smoke? WHAT THE FUCK, BE YOU DEAF? Have you not inhaled my scent? Your erection is but dead in my Pinocchio silhouette I am the blush in your pussy Who had the liberty to envy my dignity Only the lucky Only the lucky charmed my third arm Polish my mushroomed-fist with a kiss of your dripping lips Horny I be like a rosy bush Like Sumo, I push And push And blow your labia down to the ground to its knees—it’s lips Boned like a skeleton Consuming tear-moistened cheeks, I devour her meat…to the bone Saint!!!

Swirled in circles till her clitoris said "HELLO" Tongue fenced with her ankles...the arch in her feet...the tender spot behind her knees. I drank her tears with a straw Blinded by the prize between her thighs, I saw the fall in Eden was a prize Welcomed her lower lip between mine...and licked while I tripped her alarm with a wet fingertip Dug her nipple into my mouth and watched her frown bloom into upside down rainbows Her womb started to glow as I steamed her cream with a tease of tongue flutters around the edge of her pussy Flattened my tongue and swiped from her alpha to her omega...south to north...inside her shores..."Holy shit she tastes good"...pulled down her hood and treated her good with the suck-down and the rub down of her breasts and ass with my large fucking hands Could have did her with my finger...that alone can sway her seas Pinched and squeezed her olives...nibbled her collarbone, bit her earlobe, ran my nails through her scalp, tugged on her hair in both places at once, then finally stuck it in Wiggled my head into her vagina Slowly Slowly exploding in size Reaching the garden of Eden in her fallopian bone I stroked NOT!!! Just let it rest deep within her as I rocked her body near and far, her head in my palm, her back supported with my other arm...thighs wrapped around me like they were a part of me Supported her weight and rocked her like a canopy An hour later...screaming...simultaneously...without stroking Saint!!!

Too many red devils...lost track of time. Saw many delicious creations of heaven walking around with delicious lips...and other ligaments appealing to my loins. So yeah, I'm waking up, it's 10:30, I have to do this little gig thing up in Yonkers at 11:30 and I'm still in Jersey. The floor is moving. My balls are moving. My stomach is turning. I had a fucking blasttime last night. Mad cool mofo's. Shout out to...to...to...oh shit....I'm nauseaus...ahhh...I'll be right back...I think....pray for me...Saint!!!

Something I wrote for a lady-friend of mine: “Heart Murmurs” I tried washing you out of my mind through tears of not sharing my entirety with you My nights consist of migraines in my palm and genitalia The pain bears the color ocean blue and smells of fresh salt due to never-ending waves of sweat crashing against my temples I can’t have you!?! And I don’t know what hurts more than being locked outside the gates of heaven than to have visual access through peepholes beyond my given jurisdiction My fingers are but erections of my palm reaching out to you for physical oxygen My fingers are naturally trained to dive deep into a lover Fingers trained to hold their breath until they’ve found pearls clasped between her clam Yet I am where I am Dry Warm but not warm enough The only way I’m able to breathe out is through cursing I wish God were nursing my imagination Your imagination Our combination So many things to say but more so so much silence to break You’re that dangly thing on a graduation cap Soft to my touch A remnant of what success tastes like As I write this Clouds be my tissue cause I miss you I see visuals of your aroma and it looks like the glory of creation wedged snug into a sundae bowl Drowned in syrup with encircling strawberries floating on rafts of whip cream I lick it And it smells good I smell it And it tastes outrageously luscious My tongue flails through it like experienced arms swimming in Triathlons Like my eyes running marathons around your thong I taste your parent’s creation through visualization My knees buckle My heart unbuckles and flaps gently in the wind Roll your passion into a Dutchmaster so I can experience what it’s like to be high on your mind We’re not fucking I could probably never just ‘fuck’ you I’d untuck you Wash your flesh like you’re Jesus and I’m his prostitute I’d be subdued by your face when it’s remotely controlled by my automatic twitches I’d leave you with labia stitches as I make laceration with my pinky My ring finger My middle finger ringing the doorbell to Eden on your fallopian bone You’d know I could never just ‘fuck’ you by the way I’d hold you Sometimes soft Sometimes hard A delicate combination of emotions poking at the theory that time is not our enemy You and me Time I don’t think it cares about us Us as a people Us as individuals It doesn’t care And if we’re not careful it’ll force us to think like it does Am I too late for time with you? I try to doubt it for I can still smell your hair from here I can imagine what you taste like on various regions of your body Sometimes sweet Sometimes tangy I want to end this writing but you’re a mighty mouse trapped in my bowels I’m digesting your words They fuel me But time is sneaking its way past my sanity and I’m trying to keep that sunbitch from degrading me Time is laughing at me I’m sweating you he tells me But in truth it’s more like sweating for you for truth is far more exerting than a one-night cipher of your contraband More physical than naked all night-handstands It’s harder to descend into your thoughts than it is to descend your sautéed breastbone Your navel Your spiced hams The dam that controls a man with the enticement of a breath mint guaranteed to extinguish bad breath To extinguish his search for enjoyment cause he knows he found it upon your lips Can our tongues ride seesaws to determine what’s omnipotent Time or intimate gluttony I’m on a waiting list I never expected to acknowledge It’s cold outside and I know the solutions I thought I knew the solutions I wish I knew the solutions I wish we were materialized solutions But time’s a nosy motherfucker Time’s a nosy motherfucker Time’s a nosy motherfucker It fucked the mother of my wonders It bought my thoughts for dirt-cheap He tag-teamed with the Holy Trinity and Mr. Bean They laugh at me trying to defeat them laughing at me But I’m writing this poem so who do you think is winning I think time is grinning I’d rather be writing this on you than for you I’d rather not write this without a witness checking if I’m delirious I wish they invented Kleenex for the soul I’d pack my bags and hitchhike my way to wipe it down To pad it all around so when it falls on its ass it’s unbreakable Just like in the commercials I’m vibing you Minus all the theatricals Time used me as a prop in its debut tragedy Standing applause filled my ears like gauze in an earache pulsing from every sound you make I’m an ape squishing your grapevine Bottling your wine so I can show other women how to knock me off my feet But I’m stubborn and give them and time the finger I think you’d feel something seeing me kiss another woman Absorbing her cream like it belonged in my coffee But maybe you wouldn’t and time could stand still and be right before that seesaw has a chance to choose sides I bear a heavy case But heavy in whose brain?

What's up Rob. It's been a while. Yo, my book should be available late summer, but I'm performing this Friday at the Nuyorican's Poet Cafe. If you drop by, I'll give you a few poems from my book, or just email me and I'll send you some. I'll try to 'pop my head in here' more often. Peace, Saint!!! stjamesr@hotmail.com

So it's been ages since I've dropped in here. Been working on my book n' shit. Things seem different in here, more mellow. Everything changes eventually, I guess...or at least it revolves out of sight for a while. I'm wondering, within this calm messageboard, if there's any room for radical conformity. Is there any room to mask the masks we place upon ourselves. If the world is mundane and conformed, is an underground but a twist in that conformity? *Saint unbuckles his pants and flaps his ----> in the wind, letting it smack against his laptop a coupla times.* So yeah, hello. Saint

Passing through to say hello Not much more to say Knees are chaffed from wishing too hard I got a North Star shoved way up my ass Saint!!!

Becs...mad cheecks kisses to ya. Hope your chillin. I'm wading through confusion---gagging on reality---dropping to my knees---not a whole lot changing I'm hoping the fucking Coast Guard will rescue me from this dark fuckin ocean I'm drowning in...hope your coolin'it'out. Lunch soon? Saint!!!

I inflicted a vision into the twisted Pinkies wiggled their way into your universe And dispersed a portion of my sanity within your blood stream A female is a being with unforseen capabilities While man does everything with the sword between his knees The last time I was clubbing Me and two girls started hugging It transformed into rubbing and molded into sucking Above and beyond the normality of licking...I was kissing with my entire being Nipples became perky and panties became muggy Twitching of the skin was never, ever questioned As I licked their excrementing hole Gallons of Zima dropped atop my dome And as I moaned My goosebumps humped their follicles With a tightening of the testicles I erupted sexual vestibules And such was my afternoon Saint!!!

Sup sup peeps. Long time no fucking see. Things have been mad hectic for me (as usual). Anyways, not to make anyone sob n' shit...I miss the way I used to be at work, typing my lustness on this site as my penis fermented thoughts of getting wet with lesbian tongue....shit, seams like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. Anyways, a phat shoutout to all my horny mofo's. I'll be back in full effect shortly...just, well, nevermind, you'll see soon, very soon...peace, Saint!!!

Pox, did you get my messages? Your celly automatically blocks perverted voice mails so I've made an appointment with my local church for some repentance...maybe then I'll be able to get through Talk to ya soon...Saint!!!

Sup sup, just got back from Disney and had a blast. I'm tanned and ready to lubricate (female)club cheeks once again. Clubmaster, I'm waiting patiently for that DVD player that I won on here, so if you could get back to me A.S.A.P. I'd be much happier. Peeps n' peepettes, hope everyone is chilling. I'm officially quitting my job today...not sure what the horizon holds for me, but I figure it's not going to get worse, only better...again, I hope everyone is healthy and horny...peace for now...xo, Saint!!!

I was invited to his crib this Sunday. Let me just say that he is a really outgoing person. He had an outdoor picnic to raise money for his foundation to help kids...I met up with the governor, Christine Whitman, and talked with Laurence Fishburn for a few seconds. All in all, I didn't want to leave his estate (which is named 'Who Knew', by the way) His estate was the size of 4 football fields, maybe more. It was butterz...that's all I can say. I'm just waiting to be invited to Jennifer Lopez's crib now...I'd find a way to never leave...Saint!!!

You female magnet you...tell me you found it!!! Hahahaa...yo, I peeped your # the other day and didn't get an answering machine...I'm bouncing to Florida this friday. Oh, I'm going to email you right now...I have something to say...Saint!!!