The truth, you are worth loving.
Love is worth pain, I love you.
An immortal connection, perhaps it’s not enough.
But if it’s not, I’ll wait forever.
Lifetime after lifetime I will find you.
There will be a time for us.
Even if it is not this one.
connection
Looking for a future
kiss the palm of your hand
To hold it to my beating heart
Trail kisses until our lips meet
Eyes holding
Shivering with choices we’ve yet to make
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Hopes fruition…
Slip awake to distant dream
From feel of warmth and skin to skin
To this cold remembering
This desperate touch of dream
Of eyes held
Of hands clasped fingertips
Of silence pressed out
Thin on the edge of shattering
The heat of our bodies
Mismatched
But minds touching
Quantum entanglement
The spark originates
Then traverses this bridge
Bound eternal in our spinning
The sound of breathing
The rise and fall
You sleep on.
And seeing
Feeling you
Know stability amongst chaos
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Connected unconnected
When we reduce other people to sensation
to what makes us feel good
we reduce our own humanity
We may be just puzzle pieces
lost and alone
looking for where we fit
but that’s no reason
to slip in-to, hedonistic glut
This is not a rant against pleasure but rather one against taking
we’ve been fucking so long we forgot about love making
About elevating
I’m not saying that pure pleasure in the moment is wrong but most days it does not feel right
It’s empty
And when we become empty for so long we look for anything to fill us
to make us feel accepted
Because we have forgotten what being loved felt like
Act in the service of love and painful as the mounting losses may be
you’ll always be free
of regret at least
There may not be a heaven
but there is surely a hell
because we create it here in our ongoing search for a pleasure that fills us
Our minds should be our faiths
we’re always looking for a way out when we should be following the path in
We take what we want
but taking makes wanting
until we fill ourselves with Prada and prizes
flush with money we chase the one dragon we know we can catch and that feeling fills us up for a time
but it’s still there that ache to be full on waking
that second time is never as real as the first
we become trapped in a hell of our making.
Sex, drugs, and loneliness
dragging down our dreamers all looking for connection but afraid to commit to connect.
We’re above such things
we can disconnect sex from love
free from all rules
but rules are not restriction.
Rules are the freedom to know where the lines are
so you know what you are doing when you cross them
Then it’s three AM and who is this next to me
were they wanting connection or just a slim moment of shared addiction.
Am I the stranger for wanting breakfast?
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Cliff diving
It’s safe to say that I’ve been in a few relationships. Additionally, I’ve dated and had my share of bad dates. I’ve probably been the bad date for some. Too timid or too argumentative in the instances I’m thinking of. But I’ve loved and been loved. Held and been held. I think I know those traits I’m not willing to tolerate and those that make me enthusiastic and all those in between. But it’s that feeling of connection that drives me forward.
I used to exam any connection I felt, measuring all the ways it could go wrong or could go right. I’d spin up scenarios and let them play out, always looking for the perfect way forward. I’d sit on the lip of the cliff, looking over the edge. Backing up, then going right to the edge until I either lost my nerve completely or threw a pebble with a note attached to await a response. It was safe. Got to safe guard the heart, I’d been hurt before and didn’t want to feel that again.
I tried and failed and tried and failed in this way for about 5 years. A few dates, a few false starts but nothing ever came of it. We had a bit of fun is the best I could say. Then I did some mental renovation.
I started by allowing myself the luxury of feeling. Of being a complete emotional being. With my emotions fully integrated with my thoughts, my logic. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been feeling things. Just that I had been hiding behind my walls all safe and cozy. I have a high degree of empathy, and being around others in mental distress can cause a nasty feedback loop. But I was hiding, because a wall is easy. Learning how to deal is hard. So I tore the wall down.
For the first time in years I felt everything. It was crippling for a while. But I refused to step back to my perceived safety. For all that the lows were bad, the highs were more and the general middle was better than the muted existence behind my walls. It took a couple of years to stabilize. But now it has.
There have been other changes, small tweaks here and there. The manipulation of belief structures and the questioning of long held ideas. A reexamination of every thought and idea to see if I still felt that way or if I was just operating by rote. This lead to some strides forward and ultimately to the person I am now. Moving forward, the most complete version of myself. Which is scary, but if it’s scary then that’s a reason to do it.
Now, I’m not afraid of the chasm, I’m afraid of not finding one. So now when I find someone I have connection to, be that emotional, mental or the rare purely physical connection, I jump. I jump off the cliff. I know it is dangerous, I know I’ll likely be hurt. But it isn’t a risk that I’ll feel bad or heartbroken, it’s an opportunity to feel happy, to love and be loved.
So I jump off cliffs, and I fall in love, and I allow my heart to be free.
Grab my hand?
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Overwhelming?
Every thought, every word, every dream is of you
I seek the next chapter or next poem
and you stand, distant and close
your hand over my heart
feel it beating?
it beats with joy, a joy that is you.
My miss, it beats and I feel you, a deep connection
You have woken me from my long slumber
You are mine, my miss
I am yours, your Sir
Always.
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A love supreme
I was listening to A Love Supreme, part IV Psalm by John Coltrane when I left work tonight. Walking through the empty halls, seeing the lights from the cars and my city. Listening to the melancholy, the denouement, the end of this brilliant piece of music.
I see the pairing of this energetic Jazz and the city as character. Made much more evident as I emerged into the night. On the roof of the parking garage, the panoply of lights and the city stretched out like, the Jazz bounding in my ears and heart. I feel a connection to the people of my city. I realize that I love them.
I don’t like most of them, I don’t know them. But at this moment, I am connected to them all, I feel boundless love for them. And as the last strains play, I want for only two things. One more play through of this sweeping music and you.
Whoever and wherever you are. I hope this finds its way to you.
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Dream
I dreamt that I met a beautiful woman, she was thin, slightly shorter than me, small, almost flat chest, elegant hands perfect for holding or kissing. She was smart and we talked about music. I kissed her and she was gentle at first, then more forceful. Her hair was soft and I ran my hands over her. Trailing the edge of fingernails over the lingerie, black lace she wore. So damn sexy. I moved to go down on her and found a surprise. A five inch cock. Thin and perfectly groomed. I looked up at her and could see the fear and trepidation in her eyes. Holding her eyes with mine I ran my tongue up the length of her surprise. I took her in my mouth, running my tongue against the softness, sucking and swirling. Replacing my mouth with my hand, I trailed kisses up her abdomen, paused to suck a tit, then kissed the small of her throat. I whispered to her, your beautiful. I remember having sex but not the rest of the specifics. I woke beside her, her ass snuggled down against me. I reach over an pinch a nipple. She turns to me and murmurs good morning and looking into her hazel eyes I am turned on. We have sex again. I ask her out to a real date. We go eat Italian. Then we are leaving the restaurant and as we exit, her in the crook of my arm, snuggled against me. I hear someone say something behind us, something like Faggots. Maybe they saw her lovely little Adam’s apple. A woman is who she is, a dick is what she has. Anyway, I’m enraged. I turn and ask, threateningly, did you say something? He swaggers over and says, I said Faggot. I say, Oh, I thought you said please stab me multiple times and leave me to bleed out in an alley. I pull a blade. He backs away, fear in his eyes. I turn back to my beautiful. She has fear in her eyes too. I put the blade away. I walk up to her and holding her hands, I say You are mine. I will protect you from every hurt as best I can. We walk off to the movie. That’s all I remember.
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When it’s time
Are your hands as gentle as your smile, as cunning as your eyes? Do they move with the agility of your tongue? Are they as wicked as your smile?
Whisper to me your desires. Describe each touch, each pleasure. Tell me in crowds. Tell me with friends. Share your thoughts with me. Our secret world, encapsulated in our bodies and these whispers. Cast me furtive glances across the room. Your smile and the duck of your head. Demure when you’re anything but. Let’s find a place away from the crowd, I want the smell of you in my nostrils when I talk to your friends. To look at you with a smile, full of fire and promises. I want them to wonder why you blush so when I say your name. Hold my hand under the dinner table. Watch the fire dance and lean back into me. You are home.
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Fluid thoughts at One AM
My life feels like it’s one of tragedy but not one where these things happen to me. Instead, they happen to those around me. I’m the survivor in the horror movie, watching, despite my efforts as my friends and lovers are murdered. I know that is not what actually happened. That they each died as a product of a series of choices. But knowing and feeling are different. I miss them. Want to hold them one more time, but know that I can’t.
So I come with this legacy. What is, oh so endearingly, called baggage. Which is apparently bad? People want, what, a blank slate? My past makes me mindful. It makes me aware of the fleeting nature of people in this world. If I fall in love too fast, it’s because because I know how quickly it can all come apart. If I hold you a little too close or worry a bit too much, or want to be with you more often it’s because I know that life is by its nature ephemeral. That it’s fleeting, hurtling past us. Seconds and hours spent doing things we don’t love for people we don’t respect surrounded by people we don’t know or maybe just don’t like.
We are all fighting the entropy of existence. But that’s too big, too difficult. So we hide in stories not our own. We escape from our world and into ones constructed for us. We seek out adventure. Which I hate. Adventure is what happens when plans go awry. Which is fine and be prepared for it but don’t seek it out. “I just want some adventure.” Really, you want to not know what is coming, you want stark terror and fight or flight to be a real in your face thing? No, what you want is excitement. You want to feel the new, you want to feel like everything is possible, that the night isn’t going to end. That tomorrow and work, taking out the trash, cleaning the bathroom, and all those small actions that make up life are not coming.
I understand, I do. But why not plan for tomorrow but experience today. Don’t let the seconds slip by. Don’t leave the things you want to say unsaid. If you feel like saying something say it.
As the years pass, I regret the things I didn’t do. Some large, some small. Not going with Sara. Not helping that person crying, desolate in a sea of strangers. Not telling the person who sat two rows in front of me, way at the back of Symphony hall listening to Mozart that they were the most heart stoppingly beautiful person. She had red hair and was wearing what looked like a sun dress. The actions we take are the ones that we generally remember. I remember those, but it’s the ones I don’t take, the ones whose futures are lost to me that I regret.
Pelgris 