#stevenorr writer

[saintorr]

To be written on the back of my “Man Mask” (these are the things that I hide from the world).

[saintorr]

I HAD TO LET YOU GO

c. 2017 by Saintorr

 I had to let you go

Though we had a private peace

With a deep and steady flow

 Time wouldn’t let me hold on

To you though I begged and cried

Time told me no

 I had to let you go

Please don’t say

I didn’t love you enough

Come every night since that day

The nights are cold

Your absence rough

 I had to let you go

And like the echo of a dream

You sailed out of my arms

Into that twilight stream

Cross Rainbow bridge

Where united and free

Someday soon

I know we’ll be--

[saintorr]

MAN LOVE c. 2016 by St.Orr

Let me linger,

let me savor in

this man-love bliss.

Too soon

so soon

the best are gone;

then comes dank loneliness;

I stew in it

turn blue in it

like an old, cold

puddle of piss.

[saintorr]

from the film “Brooklyn” 2015

"when you get to immigration, keep your eyes wide open, look as if you know where you're going, you have to think like an American. You'll feel so homesick that you'll want to die and there's nothing you can do about it apart from endure it. But you will and it won't kill you. Then one day, the sun will come out, you might not even notice straight away, it'll be that faint. And then you'll catch yourself thinking about something or someone who has no connection with the past; someone who's only yours. And you'll realize that this is where your life is."

[saintorr]

Client downtime reading “Lockdown on Rikers”

Again in my search for productive activities while the potential clients don't call, I wanted to share this amazing book I'm reading "Lockdown on Rikers" by Buser. Though slow in the beginning, now I'm riveted. This social worker's memoir of the brutality and savagery of life behind bars in New York's biggest jail are heart-stopping and tear-inducing. I find this aspect of American Culture (and N.Y. cosmopolitan culture) particularly riveting because I can empathize. My own brother served 10 years at a variety of prisons in Illinois for drug-dealing. Once called "The Land of Lincoln" it's a sad commentary on that state and American society in general that the prison industry is a seedy safety net for the disenfranchised working poor, addicts, and the mentally ill. It's an industry, based on profit from keeping the undesirables locked away.

Meanwhile Tekserve just sent me spam promoting "Stories from start-up marketers and buzzwords for the tech-savvy entrepreneur." What a world.

I think I'm thinking too much, time to move my a**, dance, do some Zumba, pump-up and mount the unicycle before I work on my first client in two weeks. Oye.

Om mani padme hum

[saintorr]

Excerpt from “BISEXUAL LOVE” a transgressive horror short story c. 2015 by Steven Orr

There were too many people in Tucson.  Too many fat people consuming products, cars, DVDs and land.   There was an overabundance of everything.   And then, there was that amazing emptiness of the desert.

 Coco Puff fancied himself a connoisseur of all things--food, wine, men, women and a bit of a charming clown, or a sprite, a large one at 356 lbs.

 He was next in line at the checkout of Blockbuster Video with two classic Bette Davis DVDs in hand when he noticed the man in front of him, muscular with dirty blond longish hair, in his 20’s.   He had a handsome, roguish face, easy smile and stood about 6’3" tall.  He was just Coco’s type of guy.  Of course most of Coco’s "types" of guys laughed at him, or would not give him the time of day except to yell "HEY FAT FAGGOT!" from a speeding car.  There was a dark-haired girl--"Cunt!"  Coco thought--hanging onto the man too.  She was making him laugh, feeling his abs, and hugging him. Coco, immediately jealous, wished he were playfully nudging the gorgeous hunk.  Her breasts looked tender under the faded, rhinestone studded denim jacket. “I want them; and I will have them," he thought.  A wicked smile spread over his face and made his fat jowls twitch with pleasure.

 "Next!" the bored, pimply faced clerk kid called out.  “Umm, never mind" he bitchily tossed the DVDs onto the counter. "I have something to do,” said Coco Puff.  He hurriedly followed the couple out of the store.  He tried not to be too obvious, pausing for a moment to stare at a poster of TOY STORE 2 in the window. He followed their old Chevy along Pantano Boulevard in his van-- its cream color reminiscent of cum--until they turned off onto a quiet, dark side street east of Fry's Foods.  Making his move, he floored the van up next to the couple’s car, sideswiping it and causing it to plunge into a ditch.  Luckily for him there were few houses around.  The man charged out of the car, his handsome features contorted with rage.  "You fat fucking son of a bitch!"  His anger excited Coco Puff and made him hard.  As the hunk reached up and into the driver’s side of the van, Coco Tazered him in the neck.  The man fell to his knees and collapsed.  Coco got out, knelt down, and kissed him sloppily on the lips while injecting him with a puffer fish toxin.  The toxin would ensure his new plaything would be conscious and aware but unable to move a muscle.

 Onto the girl.  Coco turned his fat head back towards her, his eyes glowing red and orange in the pink twilight sky. “Oh shut UP you beautiful babe!" he bellowed at the girl, "Don’t you know Coco Puff’s here to take you and your hot-ass man out on a date?”

  He began galloping toward the hysterical girl, his rolls of blubber bouncing up and down like great waves. The girl was frantically trying to lock the car doors and roll up the windows.  Upon reaching the nearest still open window Coco shot the screaming girl in

[saintorr]

http://www.stevenorr.com/

acting, etc.

[saintorr]

Reflections

These new ads on Tumblr really suck. And the fact that you can’t even make them go away. Oye!

Being sixty one is good. I can’t power lift like some of those young bitches at the gym but damn--I’m beginning to really dig who I am and use my time much more productively. God Bless 61!

I was at the city gym the other day when I had an “a-ha” moment. It is sheer bullshit to believe that because another man is  queer like you are that it’s the basis for a friendship. Friendships come from  the heart--they have nothing whatsoever to do with sexual tribes or identities.

Funny, I have spent so much time with gay therapists and in gay oriented therapy groups thinking that I would find a friend or two or learn how to be a “nice gay” and get along with all the vicious queens that pass for human beings. Now that I am involving myself in something like the East Village gardens....there is the possibility of making new friends and the purpose is that we have a common interest---the gardens! Gardening. The earth. Nature...That is a strong bond which goes much deeper than sexuality.

I’ve always felt the label gay sold myself short, made me sound like a two dimensional thing, not a live human being. Man is a bisexual animal (period). Most gays don’t like bi’s because they don’t understand being bisexual. And especially in NYC people are so into their labels, it’s a drag.

So many years of feeling guilty because (my creative streak, my love of pursuing women, music, etc.) I always seemed “wrong” to other gays; as if I was bad because I wasn’t as big a straight-ahead fag as they were. Even though hetero men were God knows a bunch of meatheads. I don’t think there is any solution to the problem. You just have to accept your own deviations and realize that you have them for a reason. Your own “kinks” are what make you you. Never try to loose them or hide them to please others. You will just make yourself sad. The crowd is just a bunch of wankers who love you when you are a winner and love you more when you buy them drinks; when the drinks are gone, so is the crowd. “God Bless the Child” Lady Day said it sooo right.

I love the sign on my door “Gin makes you bitter.” I will allow myself a beer tonight. It’s been a good day, I wrote and visited 11BC the Serenity Garden and went to a meeting of the (much too official) folks who run the Campos Garden on 12th St. God I hate meetings. How people love to hear themselves pontificate. Then I practiced piano and dear God I felt the love! Thank you! Now to watch my hot firemen on “Chicago Fire”. Yay! Love and Gracias Life is good, we will abide...

[saintorr]

4-18-16

Come one, come all for a fabulous massage…I am free from 10 to 10! Please call 212-777-7199 or 917-771-6367! Also see my site NYCMASSEUR dot com.

Spring is here at last. Saturday was a brilliant day, I was in El Jardin Del Paraiso to play music and meet new friends! I met some very funny women. My trollish guitar player friend C________was too busy being a bureaucrat in LUNGS (LOUISAIDA UNITED NEIGHBORHOOD GARDENS) business to play music but I reconnected with joyous sister Rose. That night I went to watch my massage partner-actor-friend Bill perform in “DIG” by the IRTE company at The Producer’s Club. Very entertaining, extremely uncomfortable seats! Leading Lady Brianna so funny and gorgeous to watch. The music guest David J. was excellent the first three minutes and then he went on much too long. Four people in the audience walked out; probably due to the scatological subject matter of the tracks in his over long set.

Sunday day helping friend Rose out in her garden called “Campos” at 640-644 East 12th Street between Avenues B and C. There was a vigil-memorial taking place for the young man who was shot last week. I loved digging in the dirt! At night went to KGB to hear my friend Carolyn S. read from her newly published book of poetry “Under the World.” She’s so deep.

Today I wrote for more than an hour, then worked out at Asser Levy. Tonight fighting depression and being sober. Hopefully practice piano for one hour, reviewing my repertoire in preparation for demo tape to send out for piano gigs at hospitals. Must prepare my own musical seeds of creativity like the seeds that need to be planted up on the deck so that the sunflowers can grow. I day dream about moving near the ocean… I don’t think I need to be here anymore. Movie watching becoming boring. What’s happening to that process addiction?

[saintorr]

The Ribald Limerick* of Luigi

c. 2016 by St.Orr

An Italian on the DL named Luigi

Said “Please use your tongue like a squee·gee

stick it up my ass while you pump me like gas

And I shoot like the stars over Fiji.

I replied “You sound hot” with a smile

“But I’m not an ass-eater of style

Your fantasy’s not bold, it’s tired and old

And you just made my blacklisted file.”

*A limerick is a form of poetry, especially one in five-line, predominantly anapestic meter with a strict rhyme scheme (AABBA), which is sometimes obscene with humorous intent. The first, second and fifth lines are usually longer than the third and fourth.

[saintorr]

From “A Bridge too Far” to

“I love the challenge of a dick too big for me.”

headline of a very trendy, smallish, Asian boy-man on A4A. Seriously? It’s too bizarre for fiction...

[saintorr]

Surviving Holiday Faggotry

-Get lots of rest, drink lots of water

-If possible get a massage (I’m available –see site NYCMASSEUR dot Com—I’m the real deal…).

-Monitor your drinking; if you’re hitting the bottle too much, try taking 3 to 4 nights off every week; you may experience a little withdrawal and sobriety is always a bit raw for the recovering (and the not-so-recovered) addict but you will feel re-energized and all-around-better and your liver will definitely thank you!

-Edibles are a great alternative to drinking. Pot use (with balance and discernement) can be a spiritual experience. (Edibles help me to be more mindful. Also can create “mad munchies.”)

-Be mindful of moving too fast, hurting people, being rude, etc. Being mindful means doing one thing completely (not a ga-zillion things) being present (not day dreaming or fantasizing unless that is your intention). Cold weather can add to the stress of an already stressed-out city (i.e., New York city); people get faster, can be more rude than usual and drink more in a manic “push” to have a good time at all costs. Step back, slow down, breath, meditate (not 5 minutes a morning—try 20 or 30).

-Experiment with being kind to yourself and others;

-Practice smiling for no particular reason (note how your face feels, then frown and notice how your face feels--notice the difference between the two--is there a difference ; ?)

-Get fresh air and exercise every day. Stretch your muscles. Winter and cold can exacerbate herniated disks (I know I’ve got one) and arthritis. Epsom salt baths with a dash of lavender, sage, frankincense, lemon…ahhh soak it up…release the stress. Sometimes I literally pour a bag of Epsom salts over my body while in the tub, waiting for it to fill up. I imagine I’m at the beach experiencing all those fabulous negative ions, de-toxing in the salt water, wind and waves and sun!

-Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable. Don’t be afraid to feel all the feelings you’re feeling, they are all valid. And try just observing them, you don’t have to react. They will all pass. *Don’t believe everything you feel. This time of year can bring troublesome feelings and emotions to the surface, families feuding, friends fighting, etc. We all want that “Donna Reed/Father Knows Best Christmas” but underneath the twinkling lights and tinsel, for some of us, loneliness can be even more acute. Embrace it, you can’t have joy without pain, they go together, it’s the essence of what Buddhists call “interdependence.” There are opposites in every moment. It’s only when we negate the negative that the “pressure cooker syndrome” begins. Enjoy the light and the dark.

-Singing and humming to yourself are great ways to feel the joy of the holiday spirit. Don’t be afraid to smile at a stranger (and it’s OK that you will never see them again even though they inspired all these fantasies in you!). Music helps us feel and heal and works our bodies and our reflexes and brain on so many levels. Embrace this most living of art forms whenever you can. When I play and sing, I feel love. I feel alive. And oh, what careless joy to realize I AM AN AMATEUR--that my singing doesn’t have to perfect, nor do I have to make a perfect recording of every song..HA!

(This is part 3) The blog on “Rentmasseur” allows only short entries and is unlinkable).

Finally keep on smelling the roses and it’s all right to feel disgusted and cynical. Feel it and then feel the joy of being alive and everybody’s so different that it’s fabulous (only in New York…).

-Take mini breaks from your smart phone—just turn the damn thing off—look up, see, smell, taste, listen to the world. Technology is not alive—YOU are!

-Be Grateful when down in the dumps. Be creative, do some cleaning. Shopping is simply more consuming is simply mass hypnosis on a grand scale; it’s OK to say no.

-Try replacing all “but’s” with “and.” Amazing what a simple word substitution can do.

Happy holidays and thank you all for a wonderful and challenging year!

  xoxo

[saintorr]

Being Productive in a slow week/The Chi machine

12-6-15 Yes it's been one of those fabulous weeks when being productive and positive (and not drowning in gin--Green Hook gin from Red Hook Brooklyn) are stalwart preventatives to a no-income week.

"Oh my creative muse SAVE ME."  Unicycling in the park; playing the piano for cocktail hour at Polaris North on Thurs. from 5-7. Do come if you want to hear me tinkle the keys and sing the standards, some original torch songs, etc. I used to play for millionaires, now I play for me.

Yes, I have new companion care client tomorrow; we will know within an hour if we are compatible; it's all about matchmaking in that business.

Also, another alternative pain control method is the Chi Machine. One lies supine and places ankles within the leg-holders on top of the unit. start low and work up to a more intense speed. Great for cleaning lymph and I've been using it to assuage arthritic medial compartment knee pain. After 15 minutes you also get a lovely natural rush. Check out U.S. Jaclean's model--much less pricey than the original ("Sun") and it gives user the option of speed control.

Also thank you potential client H. for calling my "wishable." You made a glum day sparkle.

[saintorr]

Posting “COMFORT” c. 2015 by St.Orr (in completion)

http://comfort-complete.blogspot.com/

Every week there will be a new chapter. I just have to figure out how to arrange them in a user-friendly order; a sequence of chapters like scenes from a movie.