I think about it often
from the first rise of dawn
till the sleep comes at night
there between my locomotion
a part of me
apart from me

and not just mine
but all of them
in relation to one another
what pleases
one
pleases not the other

inclination
declaration
show it all
cover it up

I put one in my mouth once
or twice (or maybe more)

funny the reactions it spurs

a girl tells you about pussy
perhaps you get all worked up
a guy talks shop
about the tools of others
and the handling done
and masculinity is brought into question

a lady talks about another man's cock
with a smile on her face
forget about it

I don't know
I like 'em and I hate 'em
my own and others
so ponderous is the responsibility
of a dangler between the legs

I know, I know
we don't give birth

but we instigate it
and then (if you're a good man)
rise to the occasion
pony up
and take the weight of responsibility
to allow life to flourish
under our guidence
in the electromagnetic ocean of life

but this poem is not about that

it's about cock
and a celebration of all that cock is

even when I get worried
that a bigger one may do the job better
or just a different sort of better

sometimes I dream of filling my lady
with two or three of them
just to let the wild river flow

and I scare myself with the possibilities of pleasure
and I warm myself with the possibilities of pleasure

on a good day, under hot conditions I can reach seven
seven long, medium thick
often it's at 6.5
which is still allright on the richter scale

sometimes I wish it were in the eights
or at least a fat thick seven

I've been told it's perfect
I've been told women lie
I'm not sure whom to believe.

I like it
it's inspired awe
but I never believe it

I've been called a no good shit
on account of impulses generated by it
and I find those comments easier to believe

I'm trying to heal
to believe in my cock

to believe in all cock
that it can be nice
and healing
and good for man and woman alike

why do I and others get all hung
on how hung a man is?
who hangs at the end of that rope?
what is it good for?

as the spring rises
I raise a toast to cock
and all that comes with it
to the good, the bad, and the ugly
to testosterone, testy behavior, and testimonies
of moaning good times
I give three cheers
to cock,
to balls,
to the package

may we never forget
that the rising of Spring
is the rising of stimulation
and that with stimulation
comes a verdent Gaia
and a swelling Green Man

may we heal
may we love
may we share

OHM Shakti OHM
Cock and Balls
all sensation
all union
all is one
borne on None.