Most men can think of a number of things to use their penises for. A few of them can be quite creative. A certain Australian uses his as an art form, thus A Wet Cloth … A Penis.

Also see A Man in the Bath

This from the thoughts of this beautiful man:

I’ve been thinking a lot about the qualities of ones mind, ones thinking, that seem to flower on this journey of self awakening. Heralded in a sense by the awakening shift and broadening of ones masculine sexuality, but independent of it, something much deeper, even ethereal.

Feelings of freedom, of stinginess and narrow thoughts and attitudes falling away, no treacherous ledges left to cling to as they once did, a joy rising like a cool new moon seeks this same joy for the whole spectrum of beings, taking root with a wish for the happiness and healing of the world.

Appreciation of small things once loved and crooned over take on new life, presence and meaning. A desire to simply ‘be kind’ takes form and heart. It travels far beyond mere notions of masculinity awakened.

These concepts we label bisexuality, rise to meet and fade away from something much deeper in us, hidden in the mud, waiting for the sunlight to find it’s way down through the darkening water, and slowly a seed germinates, a new plant, rising up, reaching to the nurturing light of day, to break the surface, and there in the cloudless rain beneath endless blue sky a lotus flower appears, it’s soft perfectly formed petals opening like the most gentle of ballerinas arms spreading out to the heavens.

To sleep per chance to dream, to find a truth yet hidden, that only the wisdom good heart can truly know. If he were your colleague at work, you would know him as a nice guy, a thoughtful individual that simply makes the world a better place to live. You would never know the private thoughts that form in his mind, the quiet aspirations, the dreams.

No, he would not make a mule envious, nor would he make a size queen giddy with joy, but he ranks among the most beautiful men that grace these pages. It was a midlife awakening that sang its poetic joys through his body, an awakening that he may very well share with some fortunate future companion.

It strikes me as sublime how intimate a man can be with himself, that we can enjoy and marvel at ourselves and be so consciously aware of it. Such miracles are our bodies. How dare the ancient autocrats try to interfere with it.

How sensuous this fine piece of cloth must feel again this masculine body, damp and sheer Continue reading →