His eyes are dark, wild,
So much like a beast, and yet
They’re almost human…
(C)2012 H. D. Hunter
Quote of the Day: “It is a wise father that knows his own child.” -William Shakespeare
Nearby, so close and yet, untouchable
Always strong, always firm, and yet,
here, in the dark of this room, with music playing in our ears and smiles upon our faces,
I see another side of you, something so obvious and yet, quite unplaceable,
To the point that it startles me
when I see the shimmer of tears in your eyes
and you say
You say, “Daughter, I’m proud of you.”
And I don’t know how to reply because I’m proud of you, too, but,
it’s difficult to say over the lump growing in my throat.
It’s hard to speak simply because it’s the truth, and yet,
you don’t wait for me to answer
you just keep on like you always do.
And then again, there’s silence, and I
I open my mouth to speak
but the words die on my lips, and I only smile, hoping
hoping that you know just how much you mean
always near and yet, so far away
but here in the dark of this room, with tears in our eyes, and pride on our faces,
I see a different side of you
and I want to speak, but the words go unspoken
because I know
and you know
and that’s enough understanding
as I stare back at you with the blue eyes that you gave me.
(C)2012 H. D. Hunter
Dear Fellow Soldier,
As a thriving, picturesque member of the homosexual community, I recently found my calling in the muscular, camouflage-clad poster boy for the United States Army, even though camouflage is never in fashion outside of any military function. However, I’ve decided to overlook the obvious lack of fashion sense on your propaganda, bear the burden of sporting such gag-worthy attire, and join this captivating institution. I am beside myself with excitement to enlist, hang out with a group of rugged men all hours of the day, and get paid to do it. What could be better?
When I have been incorporated into your faction, I will try very hard to get to know each and every individual; we will be the closest of friends, and I’m sure we’ll find creative ways to benefit each other. Of course, as a member of your company, I fully intend to comment on your rear end, whine when I break a nail, and parade around in women’s clothing when I can all for my pleasure and your discomfort. You should also know that, should I find you attractive, you will have gained what I like to call my ‘special attention.’
Now, in regards to the uniform, you should know that I will petition to change the mandatory attire into something a bit less nauseating. I understand that the classic camouflage is recognized and revered by people across the nation, but to be honest, it is a new century and time for something fresh and innovative.
On this not, I will also try to avoid doing anything that forces me to get near the ground because, after all, it would be a shame if I got any dirt or grass stains on my uniform as stains will only add to the dismay of having to wear camouflage in the first place.
Now you may be rather confused and find my joining the army an inconvenience as I honestly don’t intend to do any real work, but as a human being, not just a fellow soldier, surely you can understand the brilliant idea that is equal opportunity. As a fellow American, I know you can appreciate the thrill of patriotism. And as a fellow man, I hope you can fathom the want of having someone to wait patiently for your return, someone that would smile their sweet smile only for you, someone who would sit anxiously beside the phone and hope that the next call is you saying, “Baby, I’m coming home.”
To ease your confusion on this subject, I have only five things to say: I’m human, too. I can be patriotic. I can fight. I can love. I can die.
Of course, as I’d like to avoid fighting at all costs (blood stains are a mess to get out and will surely stain the cotton fibers of the issued uniform), I think I’ll just walk behind the rest of the men and enjoy the view.
The New Recruit
(C)2012 H.D. Hunter
You rub your face across all things, sultry,
sharing your essence, leaving your gentle, musky smell.
You move swiftly, rubbing, scenting, one cheek and then the other,
soft strokes of fur whispering over my arm, my foot, my bent knee
as you claim my body and steal my heart
with your small, slender form, your gentle grunt,
your round, large dark eyes that watch as if they never blink,
as if you’re always afraid.
But when I touch you, when I stroke your fur,
when I nuzzle my nose against yours,
fur to skin, that soft contact,
then you relax your form completely,
and your tireless eyes drowse and close slowly, almost hesitantly,
as I seduce you with my touch.
Your ears, like silk, fall back and lay flat against your tiny, fragile body
as if you have nothing to hear but your own heartbeat in your little chest.
I can see the movement of your torso
as your tiny heart thumps and thumps and thumps away,
your nose twitching madly with each quick breath.
But it slows when I touch your face,
when you drop your constant guard in that single moment
of perfect seduction,
and for one sliver, one fragment of a second,
your heart seems to just stop beating;
you are so taken by this sharing of warmth,
of gentle love between human and animal,
between a woman and her pet,
between living beings.
And now as I release you, you pout and charge away.
You dig tirelessly at the carpet which will not yield to your efforts.
You bite and tear and eat my papers,
ignoring whatever importance they may have to me,
ignoring the sadness or irritation I may feel
at your having soiled my belongings in your anger.
But I love you enough to forgive your indecencies.
And you will be quick to forget your anger at me
because when I put skin to fur, when I touch my face to yours…
You will be seduced, and you will never realize
that I am the one to whom you have given your tiny, fragile body,
and I am the one
who owns your fluttering heart.
(C)2012 H.D. Hunter