A New Home For The Eugene Noale Blog

Hi!

It’s been a while. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long and present so sporadically.

I’ve moved my Eugene Noale thoughts, as of today, to it’s new home. https://gregariousgene.com/eugenenoale

I talk about the move in my first blog post at the new location. https://gregariousgene.com/eugenenoale/index.php/2017/09/14/we-need-more-sexy-ass-people/

Soon I will be shutting this location down and breaking links to old content but there will be fresh content at the new location.

Thank you all for following me here. I’ve missed you and hope to see you around.

Thank you,

Eugene

 

Of Two Minds

Dry, and oh so serious

Come on, let’s kiss a while

Terse, tight, defending rights

I want to taste your lovely smile

Brain drained, tired, mired

Wet my lips with juicy kisses

Making music from minutia

Throw away your tease ellipses

Sculpting social change from wood.

And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me good!

Healing Fiction

Quite serendipitously, I picked up a copy of Thomas Moore’s, The Soul Of Sex, in my nineteenth year. His ideas on soul changed the way I saw the world. He introduced me to his mentor, James Hillman, author of Healing Fiction, and James further guided me in building my adult life. They are archetypal psychologists, story tellers who are filled with poetry. 

These men posit that psychological distress can be helped by asking the soul what it wants. By telling the narrative of our soul, we honor its complexity. Many times what the soul wants, isn’t our reality, or is a reality neglected and forgotten. It is then our charge to enact the soul’s myths in our lives. 

I was a shadow of who I wanted to be and who I once was when I created Eugene Noale. Eugene knew he was a sexy motherfucker, an artist, and a leader. He told the stories that, two years later, have become my reality. My name is Joshua Eugene. It is no longer Eugene and me. We are one whole man. 

A whole man is a strong man and a strong man leads. 

I am building a web-based business, with the purpose of showcasing and licensing quality erotic art. My website is a safe space where erotic artists are protected, respected, and paid fairly.

“We believe ALL art is essential.

We believe ALL human bodies are beautiful.

We believe ALL consensual sex between adults is good and necessary.

We LOVE connecting sex-positive and body-positive creators, with companies who believe what we believe.

We license Sensual Pictures with Positive Purpose.”

Please contact me at eugenenoale@gmail.com with questions. I’ll be making a call for contributors in the coming months but feel free to send me links to work or a portfolio you’d like considered for the website,  in the mean time. 

Thanks!

Fucking Stealthers

Hey Motherfucker!

So you think it’s ok to remove a condom during sex, without notice, without consent? 

Wrong, motherfucker!

So you think your pleasure is more important than another person’s rights? 

Oh, hell no! You’re one fucked up asshole! This isn’t normal. Don’t think for a moment that this is fucking acceptable. 

You see, you were granted conditional consent. Keep it wrapped, and you get that pussy. If you remove your rubber without her permission, you just raped!

You’re a rapist, bitch!

Aw, shit! Didn’t see that coming, did you? 

You are going to get arrested. You’re going to go to prison. 

Gee, I wonder if prison movies are like real prison? You better hope not, cause as a sex offender, you are going to get beat, and maybe raped, and raped, and raped. 

You’re an animal and you dehumanize your victims. 

Sex isn’t a game. It’s for real every time. 

Stop your stealthy shit, now! And get some counciling, you motherfucking sociopath. 

Commute?

Morning light takes me away

But she lingers,

Lives in me like warmth

That stays in sheets.

There is something of her scent

Still in the spirals of my prints,

And brushing my lips

I am roused to reverse my course

And race back to her tender flesh. 

Beneath The Mulberry Tree (private burial)

There’s a calico kitten beneath the mulberry tree.

There’s a pile of earth beneath the moon.

There’s a calico kitten beneath the mulberry tree.

There’s one less kitten in her brood.

In A Darkened Office

Suddenly the world

Was your lips on my earlobe,

Warm breath on my skin,

When you backed me to the wall and whispered, “The answer to the question in your head is, ‘Whatever I want, with my fingers, my lips, the press of my hips.'”