miss you


I remember your nose
I remember your ears
I remember your hugs
that diminished my fears

I remember your skin
was so smooth all way down
not a single stray hair
under your sexy gown

I remember your voice
I remember your whisper
I sit down in dark
And imagine you crisper

Many years many days
I call you my one sis
And it feels like forever
When you go and I miss



My emotions, divine fire
Burning passion and desire
Equanimity had spawn
And the senses—they are gone

Silver tongue and happy wishes
Tasty meals of meat and fishies
Gone like candle in the wind
And to rules I must now bind

It’s not bad, I guess. It’s life
Pulling out a crude knife
Cutting out all my craving
Leaving me on bloody paving

On inside now I am hollow
There’s no love and there’s no sorrow
There’s no memory of past
And dead wolfy bites the dust

a goodnight kiss


You never know when I watch you
You never know when I sing and play
I’m around, invisible, not corporeal
But I’m here. And I’d love to stay

I rushed into your life without asking
(well; but the kitchen is fully yours!)
I switch around, I write’n play fiddle
Let’s be friends? Don’t close the doors

My existence is strange and exciting
A girl living in another guy’s head
Busy mind, always rushing and studying
But I just want goodnight kiss in the bed

uncanny deviation


Why I do this? Where do I go?
What is predestined for me?
Why of all things I’ve chosen lewd
Is this who I so want to be?

I slept with girls. I slept with men
I slept with pones; foxes; cats
I’m eager to seduce a sister
The only one who’s off all bets

And what is next? Is there an end
To my uncanny deviation
Where will I stop? How it will be?
How can I stop with all flirtation?

one day, I guess


One day, one scene, not much to ask
Yet I am sitting with my pen, distracted
Ideas hop like sheep in dreams
And I am thinking of [ …redacted ]

I need to focus, to stay calm
To work on the unfinished story
And yet I think of that cute bum
In all of its soft curvy glory

The curves of those ideal hips
Amazing eyes, enchanting smile
That body, marble touch of skin
And mind that is so swift and guile

One day, I guess. Some day
I’ll free my lewd imagination
And “if” turns “when”. And “when” is “now”
It is too much of a temptation

happy new year


Happy new year, happy new time
Best of the wishes and luck
When you make plans for ’17
Make sure you have enough fuck

Plan for some sex in afternoons
And for some more before dinner
In elevators, in office chairs
It’s a good time to be sinner

Sex with nice girls, and cutie boys
Sex with bad dragon and lube
Sex with a pencil, with apple pie
Sex with high-tec furry tube

Try some tentacles, be open, be bold
Open new ways for excitement
Anal, threesome or a cock with a knot
(Be sure it’s not an incitement)

Even if it looks a bit like an incest
Curiosity still kills only cats
Go on and kiss your lovely sister
There’s no time to place any bets

your Shinyuu


Dishevelled fur, dirt stained paws
I am the wolf. The one that howls
Those perky ears, amber eyes
In their depth the wisdom lies

I am the wolf. The wolf is me
It is just who I want to be
You made me be, I stay with you
I am your wolfy, your Shinyuu

a day, a year, a life


The evening was pure gold,
I struck the source of flawless inspiration.
I wrote, I wrote some more, and then again.
I danced in the rhymes of my creation.

A year ago it looked so bleak.
I didn’t know who I was, where I’m headed.
I still don’t know it now, but then,
I learned to listen and I comprehended.

My life was not full of events,
I learned to tune to noisy world.
Who knew that this is how it ends.
Just me. My pen. My written word.

it’s hard to be


It’s hard to be a wolf
When you walk on two legs
When you think of stuff
Like morning bacon and eggs

It’s hard to be a writer
When you want to roll and run
When the scents are calling
And you’re just having fun

all work, no play


How does the flipping farm look like?
I’ve never been to one in my life
Sitting and waiting for inspiration to strike
While my mind is in flux and strife

I should be sitting in chair now
Sipping hot glühwein with sis
Listening to her stories; going wow
About her first real french kiss

She said, “write from your heart”
Whatever your soul strives for
Today I don’t feel like writing smut
Don’t want to make writing a bore

I need to push, to finish my art
To sell it. Move on to the next
Do I? Would it really be smart
To spill my blood in the text?