You stand there looking mightily perky,
just you and your super beef jerky.
You are so saucy,
I would love to take you for coffee.
And your wavy russet red hair just makes me crazy!
Maybe on our first date I will give you a daisy . . (more).
Through the grape vine I hear
that you prefer swilly Heineken beer
and that you are highly allergic to any blossoms.
I found out you are nocturnal and like to play with red eyed possums.
Being in a band, I can understand.
I still feel an urge to chat,
even though you handle animals that look like rats.
You have taught me some small life lessons
some of which might get me to heaven.
I lust after the idea of you,
like a kulepjalyhlno stew.
I think you’re cute
but after this,
you might think of me as a sour lemon fruit.
Start to finish
it's never over.
Life runs in cycles
for better or for worse.
I subject myself to trying and doing new.
Sometime that means
(more) starting from scratch.
Feeling the icky, crappy, repulsive sensibilities;
the memories; the frozen numbness; the torture.
Life goes on, I must pick up again and keep trying.
Keep connecting, keep the joy, the smiles from a stranger.
Thank you to those who allow me this, gratitude to starting from scratch. I am reminded of how fragile I can be. (less)
Her face is so beautiful,
I can see how you are suitable.
But when she makes that look,
It seems like she is a closed book.
Not open to any possibilities,
(more) only hostilities.
She is looking smart and acting witty
seemingly ultra pretty.
On the inside she straight as an arrow,
not expansive but narrow.
I would think this is unattractive,
but you two seem to compliment the reactive.
I see your love for her is unobstructed,
I hope the best is yet to come,
your hearts beating to their own drum.
Maybe if I’m lucky,
on my walk through Kentucky
I will step in quicksand.
Sinking deeper and deeper out of hand.
Away from you,
the one who stole the sole of my ruby red shoe.
The crawl space
is the metaphorical nesting place
I go to for my own embrace.
To think and feel
and perhaps try to erase
(more) the unwanted darkness of disgrace.
I want to encase
without a trace.
where only I am in the race.
To remind myself to look at my face
and reflect back the peaceful holy place.
Find the high mountain road.
This is the road that takes me to a higher sense of self.
I feel so much traveling this road; pity, angst, anguish, joy, thoughtfulness, loathing, fear, anger, sadness, happiness, peace, tolerance, acceptance and compassion.
I stumble and fall
Feel(more) joy for accomplishments
Loathe and accept the necessary conditions of life
Find empathy and compassion for failures, mishaps, or wrong doings.
Tolerate symptoms of unconsciousness
Locate the middle ground, the beauty, the harmony and peace in a sliver of the day.
The high mountain road is my teacher, my guide, my counsel. It reminds me of the person I want to be.
Something viral takes over when emotions are tense,
shooting through my body like a main line of morphine.
I can feel weak or strong, joyful or angry.
The polarities are in battle to find balance.
Unregulated emotions can cause infected spirits.
tense emotions can infl(more)ame an already tortured self.
take away clear vision.
amplify stories that are less than truthful.
cause unnecessary destruction.
When I find myself in an infected place I prefer to apply curiosity.
takes me on a wild ride
Pretending I am flying down slippery slopes
in precarious positions
engaging sexy sirens and battling brutish beasts
(more) Traveling to distant places, meeting magical kings, classy queens and poised princesses
Pretending I am waking up with you, being a lover with you
being in love
Pretending I am that person
It seems that is reality, pretending I am
that pretending I am is the bridge to becoming
over that bridge to becoming is believing
believing starts with pretending.
Imagination makes the gruel light, sweet and appetizing
Sometimes I feel emotionally frozen, thick or action-less. Is there an escape from this stone-like state? For me being petrified is already a reaction from another historically triggering emotional association. It's like being in a house of mirrors.
The projection is my mother, my(more) father, the ex-boy friends, brother, sister..... These projections overlay my interactions with others, like a filtering lens on a camera. This happens to you too; I am not your ex-girlfriend, ex- boyfriend, mother or sister.
Being frozen is not owning what comes up. It is an emotionless state that lends itself to my inner child. Then the child takes control running around the house breaking, burning and pillaging. Like Thing 1 and Thing 2.
This petrifies me because until I am completely aware of my own projections they will continue causing havoc in meaningful relationships and friendships.
The counter intuitive part of all this is the only way out is in. I must experience to learn. We only learn about ourselves in relationships with each other.
Your humble servant. (less)
It was a cloudy day and the misty rain was hanging around with no better place to be. Fog was drifting slowly across the fields. We sat on the saturated bench looking out onto the acres of freshly cut grass. The smell was oceanlike.
(more) There was a faint call of a swallow in the distance. The water was too thick in the air for their wings to suspend them in flight while they played. Life seemed to be placed on hold.
We sat there enjoying the peacefulness, the solitude, the quiet, the remote feeling of having no one else around. Refreshing. It was like taking an emotional shower cleansing my spirit, my soul, my life. The gratitude I sense from being still and reflecting invigorates me.
The mist was now turning to rain. It was dribbling down my nose and eyelashes, whiskers on kittens and warm woolen mittens, silver white winters that shoot into spring..... these are a few of my favorite things.
He was dressed to the nines. Multicolored saddle shoes, a pin striped vest with a brilliant white shirt underneath, his clean pressed pants fit around his hips and hugged his bottom nicely. Super cute boyish face. He looked simply scrumptious.
Then I noticed something a(more)s he walked by. I smelled women's cologne. At a closer glance it looked like his eyebrows were plucked. I thought, hmmm interesting. I am curious now. I walked closer to him and made my way to say hello. We greeted each other with big smiles and great eye contact. My insides were melting. I thought "Wow, who is this? I am loosing my breath."
Upon our greeting I noticed more "femininity". He had on eye shadow, thick dark eye liner and mascara. I was still melting. I was appraising the situation and feeling myself being completely turned on by this notion of gender-bending. We couldn't stop starring and grinning at each other in silence, there were no words. It was almost as if we knew what the other wanted. Time stopped. I felt overwhelmed with joy, curiosity, passion, lust. I wanted to know more about him but I couldn't find my words. I started to panic thinking about his orientation, my orientation, what ifs. My brain was swimming in a sea of thick frosting barely able to function with these turbulent thoughts.
I finally gave it up, calmed down and decided that having a real connection with her was important to me. And that's what we did. (less)
As they were crumpled in a pile on the floor she said, "I'm looking for something."
"What are you looking for?" her lover asked curiously.
"I'll let you know when I find it." she said in a whispering voice.
"Can I help you search?"
"(more)No, it's something only I can find." As her voice went from a soft whisper to a louder almost outside voice. She got up and was running around the room in a frantic upheaval.
"Are you looking for the dildo?"
"No sweets. I know exactly where that implement is, it's something else." She was pacing back and forth trying to remember where she last placed it. She could hear it pounding but couldn't exactly locate it. She could feel the sensation of angst running through her body. She could see her lover in front of her wet, sexy, lusty .... Bingo.