Saturday, March 14, 2026
POEMS - YES, SHE'S LOVED BEFORE
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| DONOVAN BALDWIN |
Labels: donovan baldwin, love, mild erotica, poems, poetry, sex, suggestive
Wednesday, February 18, 2026
ESSAY - WORKERS IN THE NIGHT
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| DONOVAN BALDWIN |
When I was about 14, in Pensacola, Florida, I got a paper route. On my bicycle, I delivered the Pensacola Journal in the morning, the Pensacola News in the evening, and the huge, to me, combined Sunday edition.
I used to think that one of the most valuable lessons was the responsibility of getting up at 3 AM, picking up my papers at a tiny local gas station, delivering them dry and on the porch (or in the tube), no matter what the Florida weather. Same for the afternoon after school, AND staying awake in class, doing homework etc.
Recently, I've changed my mind a little.
The other stuff is true, but, as a young boy, I became aware of workers in the night... gas station attendants, ambulance drivers, police officers, the guy who raised the drawbridge, and even the people who wrote the news, printed the papers and those who delivered them to me. I saw the lights come on as people got ready to leave for work, or, I saw them come home as the sun came up.
Most kids didn't get to see that. For them, the world existed pretty much sun up to sun down.
Takes a lot of people behind the scenes to make the day happen.... and the night. I don't forget people I've never seen, the ones doing things I don't know about but are necessary.... or wanted by the rest of us.
Labels: donovan baldwin, essay, Florida, night workers, paperboy, Pensacola, Pensacola Journal, Pensacola News
Tuesday, February 17, 2026
ESSAY - RITES OF PASSAGE
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| DONOVAN BALDWIN |
I don't believe all "rites of passage" have to involve pain, but, growing up, a few did. I can only speak about guys at a certain place and time, yet, comparing notes with other "guys" over the years, we had similar experiences.
Our fathers seemed to believe that, despite my opening comment, one way to teach us was to cause pain.
In my dad's case, one example was, "Here. Hold this wire..." as he cranked a lawnmower.
Of course, the wire I was holding, poorly shielded, was the lead to the spark plug.
Ouch! Electricity hurts!
Of course, this can seem cruel, but, I learned a few valuable lessons about dealing with electricity, fish hooks, dull knives, misused tools, mistreated animals, and even people, through the time-tested "pain" method, which probably goes back to some caveman telling his kid, "Hey, Og! Wave your arms at that tiger to distract him, while I bop him on the head with this club."
That's how Og began his lessons on how to hunt and become a tribal leader like his old man.
Of course, Og's dad caught hell from the REAL tribal leader, his cavewoman wife, when she found out.
Still, Og and his dad formed a powerful bond, as the boy realized his dad had started to ready him to take a place in the lodge of men, and that Grandpa had probably done something similar to his dad to initiate HIM into manhood.
Labels: donovan baldwin, essay, rites of passage
Thursday, February 12, 2026
POETRY - NEATH HER HEATED SKIN
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| DONOVAN BALDWIN |
Labels: donovan baldwin, erotica, love, poems, poetry
Thursday, January 22, 2026
FALL IN LOVE AGAIN, AND OTHER POEMS, JANUARY 22, 2026
fall in love again?DONOVAN BALDWIN
no, fall in love more deeply
through new dimensions
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so lovely in red
creating dreams in my head
in my arms in bed
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found new dimensions
of love's sweet conventions
sexy intentions
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first i saw you smile
the curving of warm red lips
sparkle in your eyes
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touch yourself for me
bring the pleasure i cannot
pretend i'm with you
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in my love's garden
she herself is the blossom
passionate flower
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your dewy blossom
pastel petals quivering
beneath my warm breath
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yesterdays displayed
piercing headlights clearly seen
illuminates the past
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he becomes inflamed
by her powerful pillars
thighs of a goddess
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yesterdays displayed
piercing headlights clearly seen
illuminate the past
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i sit with stillness
soldier daring destruction
poet against time
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a naked embrace
lovers wearing moon's silver
two becoming one
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so many struggles
battles brought me to this place
wounds that never healed
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play me a love song
sing to me neath moon and stars
rapture in the night
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avaricious eyes
devour fiction and fact
expanding her mind
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show me images
your likes portray your person
in a wordless way
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gives herself to him
reveling in her power
over his pleasure
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with gliding touches
we enter secret places
play forbidden games
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blossom unfurling
proudly exposing petals
love at her center
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our standards rising
in intimate rebellion
as love's forces meet
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he watches the notes
that ripple through her body
ecstasy's anthem
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yes i watch for you
taking note of what you like
so i can write more
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Egyptologist of note
Sporting her black opera coat,
Her gold dress caught his eye,
As she passed him by,
Becoming in couture quite haute.
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our shared fantasies
are playful explorations
dipped out of darkness
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this loving poet
hides from her in silences
and written whispers
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many injuries
many nights and days alone
here in this strange land
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better than sudden
for how sweet it slowly grew
from love's planted seed
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burning maps and guides
blazing our own loving trails
down pathways aflame
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not the gold i seek
but the myth which i follow
dreams become legend
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how tight upon her
under over in between
then coiled and knotted
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like hot candle wax
burning drops of poetry
explode on her skin
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cannot be ignored
touching me in all my parts
true love's summer breeze
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silently standing
witnesses to history
England's ancient yews
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no words did we speak
eyes lips and hands spoke in
an ancient language
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invisible lines
soul's death lies outside of them
where enemies roam
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weeping they had watched
the poet's execution
gathering his words
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talented she is
she can bring him to his knees
with her silent lips
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beneath night's blanket
as day slowly awakens
lovers embracing
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look beyond the words
back where the true meanings hide
waiting to be found
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she's not supposed to
burn with need the way she does
that's how he loves her
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i am her true beast
ensnared by her soul's beauty
my talons withdrawn
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If you enjoyed these poems by the Fort Worth poet, Donovan Baldwin, you might also enjoy his poem, BULLFIGHT IN CIUDAD ACUÑA MEXICO 1967.
Labels: donovan baldwin, Fort Worth poet, love poems, mild erotica
Thursday, January 15, 2026
POEM - BULLFIGHT IN CIUDAD ACUÑA MEXICO 1967
White foam lathered round their lips,
Their eyes holding a dark, deep knowledge,
Of what would soon occur...but, didn't care.
The horses were afraid before they ever entered.
Perhaps thwy smelled the old blood, fear, and death.
They were ancient, slatternly things and, in some way knew,
That horses didn't live long in this, their new profession.
The men talked and joked as though they didn't care,
But, their squinty eyes flicked from this to that.
Sometimes, one would walk off to be alone,
With whatever god he felt might owe him a favor.
The Sun burned both "sun" and "shade" sides of the arena,
Though tickets for "shade" cost more,
It didn't really matter to bulls, and horses, and men...
The bulls died, horses cried, and the men won.
Four bulls died that afternoon, but, one, at least, managed
To rip a matador's leg open, and toss him over the wall.
Afterwards, the men and I sat in real shade, drinking cold cerveza,
The horses got water and oats, but, the bulls had nothing.
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If you enjoyed this poem by Donovan Baldwin, you maight also enjoy his essay, Ignorance And Epiphany.
Labels: bullfight, donovan baldwin, Mexico, poem, poetry
Friday, December 26, 2025
POETRY: WORDS WARM INSIDE HER
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| DONOVAN BALDWIN |
Labels: donovan baldwin, erotica, love poems, poems, poetry, romantic poems
