Sunday Scribblings: Crush
To quote Susannah, “To admit to a crush doesn’t seem very grown-up, but I regard it as a facet of a well-rounded sexuality.” I couldn’t agree more.
The crushes I had when I was a teenager are now laughable, from Duran Duran to the Fresh Prince (a.k.a. Will Smith—remember the song “Parents Just Don’t Understand”?). And in thinking about all of those unrequited loves and missed opportunities I’ve had in my life, I guess I wouldn’t be the person I am today without those experiences.
My longest and most enduring crush has been Sting. I’ve seen him perform five times, and hope to see him again when he performs at Fenway Park this summer. He’s just a specimen of a man, and the whole tantric sex thing is so intriguing it just adds to the allure.
My husband and I have this unspoken agreement that if the people in our fantasies asked for one night of pleasure, we each have the go-ahead to follow it through. Of course it wouldn’t happen, but if Halle Berry came a knockin’, he’s got a green light from me. However, if she’s looking for me, I’ve available.
Can’t explain my “luv thang” for Justin Timberlake. Physically, he’s not my type—scrawny, too thin, and a little geeky when you look at him long enough. But when I play his songs on my iPod, that’s it for me. Also, he’s a terrific dancer, and I’m a sucker for a man with moves.
Grown-up crushes are complicated and sticky; resisting the temptation is part of the fun. I love it when risqué thoughts pop into my head while grocery shopping or while in a meeting and no one knows what I’m thinking. The idea of the wrong man getting together with the wrong woman is thrilling—all the best stories have a bit of sexual tension. It’s the possibility of the “what if,” even though it will never be acted upon. For a poet, there’s no better way to release the tension than putting it down on paper.
The Shirt
by Jane Kenyon
The shirt touches his neck
and smooths over his back.
It slides down his sides.
It even goes down below his belt—
down into his pants.
Lucky shirt.
For more crushes, visit Sunday Scribblings.
The crushes I had when I was a teenager are now laughable, from Duran Duran to the Fresh Prince (a.k.a. Will Smith—remember the song “Parents Just Don’t Understand”?). And in thinking about all of those unrequited loves and missed opportunities I’ve had in my life, I guess I wouldn’t be the person I am today without those experiences.
My longest and most enduring crush has been Sting. I’ve seen him perform five times, and hope to see him again when he performs at Fenway Park this summer. He’s just a specimen of a man, and the whole tantric sex thing is so intriguing it just adds to the allure.
My husband and I have this unspoken agreement that if the people in our fantasies asked for one night of pleasure, we each have the go-ahead to follow it through. Of course it wouldn’t happen, but if Halle Berry came a knockin’, he’s got a green light from me. However, if she’s looking for me, I’ve available.
Can’t explain my “luv thang” for Justin Timberlake. Physically, he’s not my type—scrawny, too thin, and a little geeky when you look at him long enough. But when I play his songs on my iPod, that’s it for me. Also, he’s a terrific dancer, and I’m a sucker for a man with moves.
Grown-up crushes are complicated and sticky; resisting the temptation is part of the fun. I love it when risqué thoughts pop into my head while grocery shopping or while in a meeting and no one knows what I’m thinking. The idea of the wrong man getting together with the wrong woman is thrilling—all the best stories have a bit of sexual tension. It’s the possibility of the “what if,” even though it will never be acted upon. For a poet, there’s no better way to release the tension than putting it down on paper.
The Shirt
by Jane Kenyon
The shirt touches his neck
and smooths over his back.
It slides down his sides.
It even goes down below his belt—
down into his pants.
Lucky shirt.
For more crushes, visit Sunday Scribblings.
Comments
(and how could i forget Will Smith in I, Robot - oh.my.god)
--D.--
Loved this, January!
Oh and let's not forget my ultimate geek crush for Zach Braff (Scrubs, Garden State) Don't ask...sort of a Justin Timberlake thing without the dance moves.
richard gere, george clooney, patrick dempsey. all on my list.
sandra bullock tops hubby's list, and that's just so cute as far as i'm concerned. she's pretty but not beautiful, and she's a little bit goofy. sounds like his kind of girl!
Love the poem...first exposure to it :-(
Say, If halle stops over to your place, could you put in a good word or two for me?
rel
Enjoyed your scribblings :)
And I understand the Justin Timberlake thing,but then I kind of go for geeky types. One of my very earliest crushes was Mr. Spock from the original Star Trek. :-)
1. Sting
2. Justin Timberlake
3. Denzel Washington
4. Will Smith
5. Brad Pitt
6. Hugh Grant
7. Johnny Depp
8. Chow Yun Fat
9. Prince
10. Jake Gyllenhaal
Loved hearing about everyone's crushes. Happy Sunday Scribblings!
Me, too, me, too!
You made me think of how I feel about Mick Jagger--sort of a cross between your Sting and JT crushes. Scrawny, not my normal type, but then, he sings. And he struts. And I'm a grabbing-my-head mess.
Excellent post (thanks for sharing the poem, too!).
gautami
Painfully yours..
Enjoyed the down to earth and even a bit "earthy" tone to your work.
Wonderful writing. Glad I returned from finding you last week for Sun. Scribblings.
(Okay ... maybe Paul Newman or Harrison Ford, before they got wrinkly.)