Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

PRESS RELEASE

Press Release

My Ever Changing Year

This has been a year of introspection, reflection and monumental decision making.  Very early in the year D. D. Story began to realize that her supply of word was beginning to diminish. While at the same time the flow of words greatly increased for Richard Nurse.  (The true owner of the D. D. Story pen-name.) 

While the physical form, in which D. D. Story resided, was still completely intact, the words became less erotic and more suggestive in nature.  The stories that the characters were telling now also were evolving.  Instead of erotic stories of lesbian love, the stories now about mystery, detectives and crimes.  While not all of the characters in the new books are lesbians, each new story still has a central figure in the story that is a lesbian.  Just as D. D. Story's books were always told from a woman's point of view, the new stories are also written from a woman's point of view. 

The following is the last few sentences from the first review of "Out of the Chaos" written by Richard Nurse (Richard Nurse has written a romantic murder mystery, if there is such a thing. He wrote from the woman’s point of view surprisingly well, and the dialogue moves the story along at a fast pace. For people looking for more than a straight murder mystery (especially female readers), this book is for you! ) the full version of this review, can be found on either Goodreads or Amazon.

As Richard Nurse and D. D. Story, I am proud of what I have written, no matter which name it has been published under.  D. D. Story is not going to leave the scene, now or in the foreseeable future.  D. D. Story is now going to be the author of erotic love along with purely erotic stories, which might fall under the LGBT Rainbow.  While Richard Nurse is planning to write stories in either the crime, mystery, or romance genres, along with poetry and stories in verse.  In fact the next story is complete, and simply awaiting its cover art.  It is planned to be a Short Story Detective Series with a series name of "Jasper, Street Fighter & Me"  with the first Episode has a title of "Candie is not always Sweet"

While it is tempting to provide a sneak peek here for the "Jasper, Street Fighter & Me" series, I am going to resist, and simply say to look for my Nursesnook&Books blog, Nursesnook&Books which will always appear on D. D. Story's Fan Page.  I also am planning to do a re-write of "Lost" Trish's Story, and re-issue it as a Revised Author Edition.  This was probably the first book that was published with the D. D. Story pen-name, which was not written as an erotic story, which makes it the perfect candidate for a re-write.

I realize that there will be some that will be angry with me, and fell as if I deceived them.  That was never my intent, nor did I ever state that D. D. Story was anything other than a pen-name.  However, to possibly help my readers to understand my situation a little better I have attached a poem entitled "The Women in Me" I hope that you notice that it is authored by both D. D. Story and Richard Nurse, for we are one in the same, and always will be.


The Woman in Me

Expelled from within with each muscles squeeze
Nouns and pronouns; supported by a preposition or two.
Mingle with verbs, adverbs and colorful adjectives to
Reds and yellows mixed with brilliant orange hues,  
Flowing in a stream; traveling on a continual breeze.

While the method of conveyance is equal on each side,
Some opt to ride the cells going to the right,
The shy and secretive for there is stability and safety there.
While the majority take highway that leads to the left,
Eager to move, on to the adventure, that waits outside.

The right side filled beyond its capacity back a few years.
To the point where words and phrases long hidden there
Began to wiggle and squirm looking for a way out.
Some were small and found the opening called the keyhole.
While others; formed a chain, together slipping under the door.

The door has cracked open, fully open, it might never be!
But, those words that surfaced; to me were never new.
Words like, sexuality, gender, depression and unsure
Have been long locked away, my personal cross to bare.
A cross, that for some reason, I have now chosen to share.

I made my choice, some fifty-five odd years ago
To live my life as the physical gender that I was born.
Knowing but never telling my mother, who did, oh so long
That she did have a daughter, it just arrived in the wrong form.
She wanted one to call Nancy, but I preferred D. D.
  
D. D. you see, was the best form of therapy there is for me.
She took the words and thoughts that slipped out from the right.
D.D. then, blended them with the colorful array, expressed by the left.
To create stories, some short, some long, and poetry too,
That allows the woman in me, to tell her stories to you.


©October 2, 2015
By: D. D. Story, and Richard Nurse
The Antique Poet






Wednesday, June 3, 2015

A New Naughty Poem - From D. D. Story

Tick Toc popped into my head, and guess what rhymes with Toc :)

D. Dee

Tick Toc

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
Another night alone
Not a soul around
To hear my moan

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
Naked as the day I was born
And not a soul to see
My nipples grow erect from prone

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
My wet finger comes into sight
Sliding over the left
Then circling the right

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
Most guy’s would say
That all that I need
Is a big cock to make my day

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
Those that have known me,
Know that I have never needed
A man’s cock, to make my day.

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
Time seems to stand still
My fingers are moving closer
I am starting to sense the coming thrill

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
Like the hands of a clock
Perfectly aligned at mid-night
Two fingers, better than any cock

Tick Toc, Tick Toc
Wet fingers slip between my lips
Coated with nectar way beyond the tips
So easy now, to slip in, my big rubber cock.

©June 3, 2015

D. D. Story

Thursday, May 21, 2015

The Woman in Me

A new poem written for a friend by me.


The Woman in Me

Expelled from within with each muscles squeeze
Nouns and pronouns along with a preposition or two.
Mingle with verbs, adverbs and colorful adjectives to
Reds and yellows mixed with brilliant orange hues,  
Flowing in streams, driven by a continual breeze.

While the method of conveyance is equal on each side,
Some opt to ride the cells going to the right,
The shy and secretive for there is stability and safety there.
While the majority take highway that leads to the left,
eager to move on to the adventures that lay outside.

The right side filled beyond its capacity back a few years.
To the point where words and phrases long  hidden there
Began to wiggle and squirm looking for a way out.
Some were small and found the opening called the keyhole.
While others formed a chain, and slipped under the door.

The door is still closed, and probably will never fully open,
But those that have surfaced, to me are not new.
Words like, sexuality, gender, depression and unsure
Have been long locked in there, my personal cross to bare.
Which for some reason now, I have chosen to share.

I made my choice, some fifty-five odd years ago
To live my life as the physical gender that I was born.
Knowing but never telling my mother, who did so long
She did have a daughter, it just arrived in the wrong form.
She wanted one to call Nancy, but I prefer Dee Dee.


Dee Dee you see, is the best form of therapy there is for me.
She takes the words and thoughts that slip out from the right
Blending them with the colorful array expressed by the left.
To create stories, some short, some long, and poetry too,
That allows the woman in me, to tell her stories to you.


©May 20, 2015
Written for me
By: D. D. Story





Wednesday, September 17, 2014

D. D. Story Page, Vol 8. Issue 3 - Tease Partial poem



Smashwords Link
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/456066

Amazon Link
http://www.amazon.com/Dreams-Collection-Erotic-Sensual-Poetry-ebook/dp/B00LVHYU1G/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1410996898&sr=1-7&keywords=suzy+q.+stories+publishing


Sunday, August 3, 2014

Double Sided Mirror - Poem

I turned my hat around on Friday, and spent a portion of the day at the Antique store that I deal out of.  I had a lady bring up what appeared at first glance to be hand mirror with a floral silver plate handle, and I assumed back side also, as the mirror side was facing me.

It was definitely a ladies mirror, and actually mirrored on both sides, with only the handle and frame decorated.  Both mirrors produced the same image, and we kidded about would someone look better on one side than the other.  

As soon as I said that I knew that there was a poem in their for me.  
So for your Sunday Afternoon or Evening reading pleasure here is the poem the mirror inspired me to write:

A double sided hand mirror
Begs for the question to be asked?
If you look good on one side
Will you look the same or better on the reverse?

The evil queen had a special mirror
That would show on its one side, the most
Beautiful woman in all of the land,
Even if it was not held in that persons hand

My dad had a shaving mirror
Of which one side made everything fat
But I know of no woman
Who would look into a mirror like that

Could it be that this mirror only reflects moods
With a happy side and a sad side for which to look
On one side, there is always a smile looking at you
On the other, you’re smile is always upside down

But I think it more likely
That both sides are the same
Happy if you are, sad when you’re not
True to your image, whether you like it or not

By: D. D.

©August 2, 2014
Suzy Q. Stories Publishing
P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY  14514
All right Reserved


Sunday, June 22, 2014

It could only happen in the Big Apple

Thank you cousin dear

Oh My God
Look at that
A hot pink limo,
Wish we were in the back

Oh my, it just stopped here,
The hotel doorman is beckoning us near
The driver is in a tux, top hat and stiletto heels
She is holding the door for us, lover were a big deal

Our little black dresses naturally rise high,
Making even the limo driver let out a sigh
I am at your disposal all weekend ladies,
Your cousin and his wife to be send their regards.

There are champagne cocktails in the bar for you
So sit back, snuggle and enjoy the view
I should only be twenty minutes to the restaurant
So feel free to embrace for I am a lesbian too.

The driver shut the door,
Kathy took me in her arms
Twenty minutes is too long
But I want to make it with you.

As I do with you
But we must use care
It’s a big society party
We won’t be able to redo our hair.

With a laugh my love hand me
A cocktail with champagne
And slipped her hand under my skirt
Where there is no hair to mess up or redo.

I sipped my champagne
And followed her lead
And when we entered the party
Not even the bride’s smiles were as big.

By: D. D.
©June 22, 2014
Suzy Q. Stories Publishing
All Rights Reserved






Thursday, June 19, 2014

New Poem by D. D. "Telling My Secrets Too You

Telling My Secrets Too You

Alone on an old shaky wooden dock
At the edge of the old farm pond
Where I once was a child until I grew
Into a young woman that no boy knew

Though a few tried, none got through
Well except for one, when I was twenty two
Five years and one daughter later,
He was gone, with someone new
  
I've come back to this old dock once again
To rethink my youth, and talk to a friend
A big old tabby, who I knew as a kitten
One who’s always been there both now and then

She listens without comment
Except for an occasional mew
No matter if I tell her
Something shocking or new

Even when I tell her of
My making love to you
She rubs her face against my hand
Telling me that she understands

She does not judge me
Because you are another girl
She returns my love and affection
Just as you did when I was with you

My time has come to leave this pond
For one last and final time
But I won’t leave you behind this time,
Come and live with me old friend of mine

It’s time for you to meet
This new friend of mine
I know you won’t mind
If we cuddle you all the time

But you have to give us our time
For our kitties like to cuddle
And play from time to time
Just like two kittens with a ball of yarn

By: D. D.

©June 19, 2014
Suzy Q. Stories Publishing
P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY 14514
All Rights Reserved








Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Why Must Love Hurt

Why Must Love Hurt

I have hurt a friend
That I find so dear
It was no intent of mine
It hurts me in my mind

My own mind is in a dilemma
Brought by a call 2 weeks ago
From my companion of old
About whom not much have I told.

We had parted ways
Some four plus years ago
And had talked rarely in
Over a thousand plus days

She invited me to dinner
At a bistro, and not at her home
I accepted her invite, both because
I missed her and was curious

I found her sitting at a table
That we had often shared
Two glasses and a bottle of wine
Waiting with her for me to share


She rose as I approached
And kissed both of my cheeks
I returned both kisses
And sat at my regular place

She filled both glasses
And handed one across to me
“I bet you wonder
 Why I chose meet here”

I held my glass to hers
“It had crossed my mind”
Her glass touched mine
And a light came into her eyes

“To apologize to a lady I loved
And hurt so very badly and made cry.
I miss that woman I loved, and know
I my heart that love for her is still here”

She caught me off guard
Of that you can be sure
“What of your young friend?”
“I haven’t seen her in three years.”

I cannot tell a lie
My heart skipped a beat
I still missed her and loved her
But my heart still hurt too.

Dinner was lovely with wine and cheer
To old friends beginning to renew
But with caution on both parts
Decide to date and not immediately renew.

By: D. D.

©June 18, 2014
Suzy Q. Stories Publishing
P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY  14514
All Rights Reserved


Tuesday, June 10, 2014

New Poem - Idle Hands & Erotic Thoughts

Idle Hands & Erotic Minds


These hands of mine
At this moment in time
Have nothing to occupy
Them except for idle time

Which for someone
With a mind like mine
Where erotic thoughts
Lurk in hidden nooks of my mind.

What happens when you mix
Hands with ample idle time
With the erotic thoughts
That keep surging in my mind

Hands which were once idle
Become hands with a singular mission
Their mission, why to act out
The erotic thoughts in my mind

One hand slowly unbuttons my blouse
As the other slips to my lap
Lingering only long enough to add fuel
To the fire started by the hand at my blouse.

While one hand has finished the buttons
With, practiced ease and slips under my blouse
The other hand slides down my thigh;
To my dresses hem, and deftly slips inside.

One hand free to caress
My lace and satin covered breasts
While the other hand slowly travels
Up my naked skin in search its satin goal.


Nipples, taunt with erotic desire
Beg my hand to bring them pleasure
I feel my dampness begin to flow;
Darkening the veil of satin; shielding the goal.

My upper hand slips under
The covering of satin and lace
Caressing the sensitive nipple
Painting a smile; on my face.

While my lower hand has found
That ever so sensitive G spot
At the heart of my flowery petals
Causing my body to emit a lovely sound

Idle hands and idle thoughts
Now a part of the past
Replaced by multiple erotic thoughts
That guides my hands and brings me pleasure.


By D. D.
©June 10, 2014
Suzy Q. Stories Publishing
P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY 14514

All Rights Reserved







Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Lost in a Wistful Dream

Lost in a wistful dream
As I sit curled up
In an old wicker chair,
Beneath an old shedding, tree.

White eyelet and lace,
Has replaced the all black.
As I watch fall hued leaves,
Drift into my special place.

My thoughts drift toward
You and this space we once shared.
With you no longer here
I feel nothing but deep despair.

My heart is filled with pain,
Without the touch of your body
Tight against mine, or simply
The feel of your hand in mine

Time may heal this pain that I feel,
But will it ever, just once reveal
The reason why you chose to end
Your life that to me was so real.








This is for all of us who has ever lost a friend or a friend of a friend through the taking of their own life.
This is not where I expected this picture to take me, as I began to write, but this is what flowed out of my heart.
Love D. D.

©June 3, 2014
D. D.
Suzy Q. Stories Publishing