Pen is mightier than the sword

Pen is mightier than the sword
Writing what I think, before I say it!

Wednesday, January 23, 2013


Poems are a writers

dead silence, until life speaks

truth through spoken words........

By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected

GOT TO BE ME.......

Standing before you as just a plain man

left my weapons(pens) at home

I came without my papers(poetry)

I'm here to talk to you as person not as poet

I'm speaking in words, not in spoken words

so listen to me and not just hear me

undress me from the stage

silence me of my performance

let me express to you and not vent to the public

for once I want to be your charming

and not a poets poetry

I want to have an intelligent conversation

and not one of those intellectual exchanges

call me by name, my real name, if you know it

I'm no longer my stage name or that poet

let me be real for just this moment

and not the realest for the moments

Let me stand before you,

let us just look upon each other for more than 5 minutes

not onto each other as the performer to the audience

Let me re-introduce myself

without the MC doing it for me

I am *****

but not a poet called **********

I'm waiting on your approval to receive me

not the cheers and applause to receive my piece

I just need to be

I have to be

I'm trying to be

What I got to be.....and that's ME

By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected

Sunday, January 13, 2013


Is this my white light
or a dream of an after life
I say this everyday when waking up
the blessings to see another day
these prayers before I lay and after I'm awake
"Don't wake me, I'm dreamin"
I keep getting visits from this angel
this familiar unfamiliar in my sub-vision
her voice is as soft as the first 3 chords from a harp
she speaks to me with her hand on my heart every time
"Trust me"
"Trust in me"
what you think is here mortally for you
is not meant for you
"Come with me"
"Be with me"
the place I have for you
was designed by me
the me in your dreams
the me+you that equals we
the WE that is united as one
My steps are slow
I'm cautious about following faith
I'm cautious as I let my faith, lead the way
the closer I get to her life
the closer I am to getting to your light
the light gets brighter
and my eyes open wider
but it was not the heavens light to my eyes
it was the peaking light from my blinds


By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected

Wednesday, January 2, 2013


we're inches apart with breath and heats embracing the space between us. 
Heart beats are the only music playing, 
nervousness from long awaiting, 
patience is a virtue but anxiousness is our downfall. 
Wanting so much to give in on a plan that was made since day one without discussion.
Playing Russian roulette with our desires, 
hell thinks we are too hot with our mental fires, 
pauses turns to play, 
creaking of wood floors snitches on our moving, 
trying to surprise one another until bodies bump.....
exhales touch and tongues lick lips of the other when they are reaching to lick their own. 
I feel your shivers, 
silence has me hearing your secrets escaping, 
now what? 
We wanted this, 
but force keeps us at stay, so we stay until........

Hands extended, my pours excited like mini erections in my palms,
anxious to feel your skin and guess your color by its smoothness, (fiction)
overheating clashes with two bodies barely breathing
cinnamon and winter mints create new flavored airs
my manhood stands to boyish thoughts
my heart beats love as my fear of penetration
will paint visions of lust
my hand makes contact
a moan is released from the standing significant
quietness plays out parting lips, (both of them)
body shivers as my hands eases back 
only allowing finger tips to race down curves
gravity has my strength in right hand falling fast
but still light on touches
her swaying left, plays navigation to my movement
her rising to tip toes in voiceless GPS(gushing pussy slivers)
I feel her points on top of C mounds piercing my skin
she moans in stutters 
the body continues to tremble as if its 30 below bare nakedness
my feathered fingers had me palm landing on her plain fields
I felt smooth when rubbing down
a slight abrasion with my palm lifted up
my finger tips were dipped wet in heat until cold applied its cool
she jumped and sounded off in a whimper
anticipation of crossings boarders, her no longer being the
until.......................................... Registered & Protected