Sometimes

Sometimes
just a simple
innocuous
conversation
can give magnificient
wings
to one’s heart.

Sometimes
just the sound
of a voice,
can heal gaping
chasms
in one’s soul.

Sometimes
you can
be touched
to a depth
you never dared
believe possible.

Sometimes?
No, not sometimes.

Maybe once
or twice
in the whole
of a lifetime
would one
find someone
who can touch
you so.

This Moment

Even when I am filled with sadness, I am not sad.
When fill with happiness, I am not happy
When filled with fear, I am not fearful.
Or act courageously I am not courageous.
I may have from time to time
but I am none of these things.

In this moment I am filled with joy
and in fields of dreams
I inhale their
fragrance
taste their
ambrosial nectar
and dance amongst
worlds yet to be born.

So remember your wings
take my hand
and dance
to the music
of our home world.

It Matters Little

It matters little how much any of us are deeply loved by someone. If we are not loved by the one we are most intimate with, ourselves; we will never really feel loved or understood.


Someone once said to me I need to learn to love myself. Love myself? Even the question drew a blank. There is nothing to love, I am unlovable, undeserving of love and nothing can ever change that. Of all the battles to fight in life, of all those to forgive the hardest and most unforgivable was myself. It wasn’t for anything in particular; there was something at the core of my soul which was eternally unforgivable and unlovable. Try as I may to find what wrong I needed to right, what evil I had done which could not be forgiven, none could be found. But, it was there, I knew it, I felt it and could not make it go away.

So here I am, the most unforgivable, most unlovable being in this or any universe. These are not just words but how I truly have felt my whole life. Yes, the academic excursions, sex, drugs, positive affirmations, meditations, and all the other fixes failed to do anything but provide a temporary distraction from what I felt.

So it all comes to this:
I am unforgivable, and I forgive myself.
I am unlovable, and I love myself.

And this is the paradox.

No answers, no fixes, no path or way to happiness.

It is being completely immersed in the paradox, diving in without any hope of ever coming up for air, letting go of a need for answers or fixes. In this seemly horrific experience, it all melts away and only limitless joy remains.

Alone

Alone as child
I flew with the birds
high into the sky
feeling the clouds
beneath my wings

Alone as child
the sun
sat on the mountain top
and smiled

Alone as child
there were secret places
where air
rustled with magic

Alone as child
I looked in the mirror
saw a face
no longer young
and wondered why.

The Courtesan’s Earlobe

I lower my lips to whisper into her ear
but my tongue caresses her earlobe
instead.

My lips pause while
a moist appendage
fondles
a dangling
golden earring
teasing
heat from
deep within
her.

She listens as it slides around the curves
breath warm, humid
enveloping her ear
flowing across her cheek
through her hair

each strand wrapped
embraced by the heat
in my breath.

I whisper my deepest
secrets from the core of
my being.
thoughts naked
like an egg without a shell.

Thoughts
passions
lascivious desires
all of her
whispered
into a
receptive ear
for her
ear alone

Passions deep
from countless
lives
coming
from a bottomless
chasm
of longing
and desire
aching
wanting

waiting
for this
moment
alone.

I just want to blow my fucking brains out.

Sometimes I just want to eat lots of food, drink lots of scotch and blow my brains out. I look back on the dreams I had a young boy and know I have failed them, failed those I cared most about and know there is no redemption in what days remain. The face I see in the mirror is not who I thought I was or would become. I have only been a waste of good air and space. The only redeeming thought is that life is only temporary. The pain is that it continues, at least for the moment.

So in this space, in these feelings and thoughts; I sit, till I have taken them all in, felt them to the fullest and find a smile.

Ing

Look around you, look inside you, at all the things. Look at each one; replace all the nouns with verbs.

See Tree-ing, table-ing, chair-ing, I-ing and everything-ing.

...

Suddenly there is this great profound mystery; unfolding, exploding, everywhere. Everything is in the process of become-ing; become-ing something totally and unexpectedly new; something which never was before or will be again. There is so much, everything-ings is becoming-ing; possibility is possibility-ing. OMG!
There is no longer possibility; not even unlimited possibility. Unlimited, countless, ever expanding possibly does not even come close.

There is Possiblity-Ing!!!!!
Become-ing
Being-ing and what Is-ing

And a whole new door just fucking blows open and takes the whole damn room with it.

And then there you are, sitting naked with all the universe-ings, big bang-ing all around-ing.

All this simply by morphing nouns to verbs...

Thoughts on Ethanol

It is so frustrating to spend a whole life searching and only glimpse such tiny specks of truth; only a few rare and far between pin pricks in the fabric of illusion.
And even with all the work to be more, find one’s self to be only an onion, rotten at the core, revealing a revolting stench to anyone who dared to peal away the layers of who I am.
Such are my thoughts on scotch. But, soon they will all stop and there will once again be peace in my mind. I am missing something and can’t seem to understand what it is. One thing I do know is that I don’t need or want to be fixed. So I will be with what is or seems to be so. And this is what I am thinking now. If hell be my destiny, then hell I willingly accept. None of it is real or of any matter. Such funny creatures we humans are. LOL Such foolish fools, as if anything we could ever do would make a difference.
The thoughts float by and new ones appear. New thoughts, new feelings and more just float through consciousness and I ride with each as they travel the roller coast rail.
But, I am not the coaster or the rail; merely a willing thrill seeker, along for the ride.
So WHEEEE and away I go.

Guardian

Standing stoic
blank, black
and still.

Oh door man
Buckingham palace guard stance
guardian of
hidden desires
and lascivious dreams.

Dark curtains
quiet
motionless
featureless
drawn so many
eons before
hide a cherished
treasure rare.

Within
the Goddess awaits
locked inside
outside the door
silently she knocks
knocks, knocking
hands bloodied
on that cold
cold
cell door.

Still her song
drifts through
darkness’s shifting sands
silently passing between
the bars of
conscious thoughts.


Carried coded
within letters of
words
words within verse
verse within
her song
silently sung.

But
I hear!

So listen and
hear my words
well!

I feel her cries
in the beat
of my heart
in the core
of my soul
and my voice
commands you.

Stand aside!

Draw back that curtain
fling open the door
and let Eos
free.

Release my
Soror Mystica
to me!

Never Always

Always never
never quite the same.

Roots deep
growing deeper still
worms rubbing
entwining
sensuously
licking probing
round the
tips of
temptation.

Sunlight unfolds
spring arms
rise to greet
the morning sun.

Rivulets of streams
forging torrential
rivers making
art of
barren lands.

Time always
to touch
time never
to always.

Garbage
lain upon
the alter
as all
bow down
in reverence.


Tuesday
the day after
the rain
washed open
the portal.

Tuesdays gone
he sung
gone with the
wind.

Wind twisting
whirling
clearing
the earth
of rubble.

Leaves
twigs and
branches
lay
decaying
life
for a
new
day.