Sunday, June 16, 2019

fierce and free

fierce, and free
no slave to thee, i stand strong and DO WHAT I WILL.
and face the consequences.
they usually suck.
because you, you can't handle the truth. not my truth. it is hunger, and it is strange. it is mad, and it is wild. it is clean, and it is pure.
it is mine.
but my love is good, my actions sound, my mind well-reasoned. i do the things that need to be done. i bear the packs, i carry the load, i nibble the harsh nettles for sustenance as i find them along the path.
i do the things that need to be done. for you. and for me.
sometimes, i confess, I am afraid. to say things that might make you angry. i've had bad experiences with that. you guys are harsh. and cruel. and selfish.
and you cannot see my truth!
but i carry, i carry on along the path towards getting things done. i hear you say you love me. i'd like to think it's true, but i have things to do, and i have loved before, long before you came along with your love song, and i saw how that worked out.
and the truth... my truth...
i'll enjoy your caresses, and the sun on the dry grass, the smell of your skin in the summer air, and any assistance you might give, but i have work to do.
i love you too.
but i am fierce, and I am free, and i am truth, and i am pure, and i am perfect, and when i look back on the works of my hand, the miles i have traveled, i will say with clean conscience, i did this, and no one can take that from me.

Saturday, June 15, 2019

them scars

you can see them, the scars from the old days, wounds from past lovers and parents and trusted friends when you look too closely; it's probably better not to speak of them.

you get deeper into it, and you can't help but see that they make them limp a little when the pressure changes, and you want to make it better but you can't, you can't make the scars go away.
but you can watch them fade, a little bit at a time, over years and months and days, and marvel at the resiliency of the human spirit, the mind within, the heart that beats out all the feelings and the love, and that other thing that drives the battered and bruised body through one moment after another on towards the end.

you can't do anything for your friends, or the others we happen to be with here. can't change them. can't help them. can't make it all better.

but...


you can hold their hand and know, for a fact, that they are also holding yours.

Friday, June 14, 2019

the kids are inside

the kids are inside, and we have gone to the back yard to sit in lawn chairs. the sun is highlighting her hair, and we are talking about the things we have to do, the things we've done. the things we have planned.
i look over, and there's a catch in my breath. years we've spent together, faced demons, and angels, became gods with one another.
she is beautiful.
i wonder about the future, what new challenges and victories it will bring. we speak of planting the garden, and work, and all the trifling things. enjoying the company of one another, in the spring.
there is a point in the conversation where she pauses, and I see her go back to the inside places. the places she rarely shares. her mouth tightens, and she takes a sip of our shared drink, and i wonder what thing she is remembering. if she will share, and if i dare ask, what are you thinking?
spring times past, or gardens planted? land furrowed with intent, as our garden is before us? something dark, or difficult?
she looks over, and sees me seeing her, and she smiles at me. pleased, if not happy. content, if not fulfilled. she was born hungry, for life and what it might bring, and there's that un-satisfaction that we have in common, it's not finished yet, there's more to do, and we have to keep on with the work, and the work, and the Work.

but for now, we have the moment, and she reaches over, and holds my hand.

Thursday, June 13, 2019

Falling in Love


falling in love is ... complicated

but you can't help it. she's fun and smart and pretty, and the more you get to love her, the prettier she gets. she's' lovely, has been the whole time. it's your own eyes that are losing scales.

rubbing up against her, you find frictions. sometimes the good ones that fuel the passions of all the good things, other times the heat that changes you that leaves you feeling like you fucked up, and are ready to do better.

she's everywhere you look, all the time, and you love her. she doesn't go away, and you don't want her to, because she is beautiful. so beautiful.

but sometimes she makes you smile, and other times there are tears, and they are also beautiful.

the secret is that she loves you too, and nothing.

nothing.


can prepare you for that.

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Never Fall in Love with a Goddess

never fall in love with a goddess, unless you can.

it’s easy to see throughout history the dangers of women falling for Zeus or being prettier than Hera.

but there’s little mention of the guys who fall for a goddess.

she changes you, man, brings out things that you don’t think you can possibly even attain to.

but you do.

she’s somehow far away, you chase her all day, until you get that moment of breakthrough.

so sweet her cool waters that slake the hot thirst, as you lift her veil

and kiss her mouth

and then she’s gone

again.

words are never enough, she ducks and hides and you lust for a second to catch her attention while she’s busy with things she might mention.

in passing.

you love her, it hurts, but you know what it’s worth, you get stronger with each passing season. closer and sooner, the moments combine and you live for it, no matter the reason.

stronger, smarter, faster, your relentless pursuit helps you master the things that distract you, from the beauty of her eyes. The press of her lips. The treasures between her thighs. Her mind and heart, the quiet sounds of her breathing as she falls asleep.

the things that make you feel alive.

it takes strength, brother, it takes will, and you don’t really know what you’re after until it’s too late to stop because you got that taste, that smell, and it lingers and you want her more, to feel her fingertips on your own, to wake at night and make a light so you can see her face, for a moment.

but it kills you to love a goddess.

it’s a good death, worth every minute, don’t get me wrong, she’s there before long, and you rise up better, man, than you ever were before.

simply because with her, you can.

but never fall in love with a goddess


unless you can.