love and understanding

Another time I blog about is when I figure something out that I've been trying to understand for a long time, in some cases my whole life. That still happens. The other day I found myself talking with a friend about love, why when someone says "I love you" it doesn't mean what it seems to. Love comes from understanding someone well enough that you know what they desire, what they ache to have, and you to try to help them get it. See all the qualifications in that. Try. Help. Them. In other words, you can love someone when you know them. And you don't give them what they want, you help them get it. You can't love someone who your whole idea of is based on a dream you have about them. That's different. Anyway, lots more to say about all this. It's a recurring topic. It might be the *only* topic. Someday they'll invent an AI that can analyze my writing and tell me if I've ever written for any other purpose than being worthy of love.

Simply This

No matter how many
Sunsets one has witnessed
How many love songs heard
The number of kisses kissed
In a do not kiss world
It is that joy of anticipation
That great rush of senses
Rendering us
Temporarily senseless
We the universal kiss junkies
Will kiss till the last kiss kisses
Till that last spark of light sparks
That last note of music creates
That last smile or tear
Here is to that last person
That says here's mud in your eye
Now give us one last kiss
In this mad rushed ravenous world
I’ll be the kissy face love junkie
The one with the puckered up lips
In regal disguise
I'll love all those kisses till the day that I die

bk

The twenty ninth of july twenty twenty four

A Letter

Dear friend,

We recollect you, which if a frugal phrase, has sumptuous meanings.

E - Dickinson -

( Emily Dickinson to Unknown, Late January 1878 )

I'm not the right one

Maybe next time I’ll be the right one
The pages in my book are bleeding
My tears are rolling in the air
Salty crispy miseries
It tastes bitter

Gripping through your blind anonymous memories
Touching your face in my dreams
Illusions hurt like an unreciprocated greeting
Morning touches the sun
Blazing and burning
Like your empty gaze

It hurts to love someone like you
Too good to be true
All smokes and mirrors
I love you yesterday
It was all in the past
Mirrors aghast

I gotta let go
Losing strength and faith
Maybe next lifetime
I’ll be the right one for you
When I am able to wrap you around
With golden suture and diamond veil

But for now, I will love you from a distance
Through this glass
Of vain and vanity
Burning through eternity

no longer fluent

thinking abt that one quote that’s like “you are a language i am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read” like how soul crushing is that… what the hell

Turbulens

You are taking me
through turbulens:
One minute you say:
"I love You! I love You!"
The next:
"He is with another.
Leave him. Forget him."
You even rediculer me.
Saying I'm stupid.
You are even cruel...

And the next minute:
"I love you! I love you!"

I dont't know
what You are going through.
The only thing I know is this:
Not matter if...

I love You!

You

YOU.

YOU are the only
You for me...

Your eyes

Every time we met
your eyes looked
after me.
Every time...

Black Stallion

You're hard to tame
always playing games
a natural rebel

but deep down inside that
that stranger's heart
is someone worth knowing
and worth exploring

you're a fragile crystal
hard to hold
but strong and bold
I wish you were mine

You don't just succumb to any other master
you choose who you will vow to
but I wish I'd be a part of your adventure

You love showing off your bravado on the outside
but a real softie on the inside
nobody knows the real you
except me

I never thought that I would still look back
to the good old days that we've had
You've been a legend
but it's time to part.

solipsistic pick up line

I accidentally told my friend the
sweetest pick up line ever. i started
talking about solipsism (the belief
that everything around you was
created by your mind) and I went "If
everything around me is all my
imagination, then you're the best
thing I've come up with" she was
speechless for a solid five minutes.

You are super okey as you are

In June 1997 I wrote you
an email about my faults.
You answered:
You are super okey as you are.
Did you, Do you know
how that made me feel...?

that mattress

that memory foam mattress
with too many memories

Du

Du bara Du.
You only You.
Tu soltanto Tu.

For 26 years.

And will be
till I die...

Every summer

Every summer
feels like the first one,
the summer of 1997.
This summer
I'm again living that summer.
The heat,
the light summer nights,
the music,
the love and longing for You.
And I hear the Nightingale
singing in the night.
Just like in the poem
I wrote to you...

What I didn't say

What I didn't say:
   I want you with me tonight.
   I want you with me.
   I want you.

What I did say:
   So...you got a dog?

What I didn't say:
   I need you to hold me tonight.
   I need you to hold me.
   I need you.

What I did say:
   So...how's work?

What I didn't say:
   Come back with me tonight.
   Come back with me.
   Come back.

What I did say:
   Read any good books lately?

What I didn't say:
   You are my heart.

What I did say:
   Take care of yourself.

What I didn't say:
   Everything.

What I did say:
   Nothing.

lost

there are things lost
in transit
in fickle memory
in imagination
in re-imagining
in tinted hues
in the distance
in love
in the lack thereof
in leaving
in growing
in time
in no time at all
in gardens
in hallways
in heads
in hearts
you do not fall
into these lists
of too-easily-lost
yet you are
forever lost
to me.

lost

there are things lost
in transit
in fickle memory
in imagination
in re-imagining
in tinted hues
in the distance
in love
in the lack thereof
in leaving
in growing
in time
in no time at all
in gardens
in hallways
in heads
in hearts
you do not fall
into these lists
of too-easily-lost
yet you are
forever lost
to me.

I will wait for you

I will wait for you.
I will wait for you.
For a thousand summers
I will wait for you.

Well. It has gone 25 years...

Who the f*ck is that?

"There are three things which do not return: the spent arrow, the spoken word, and the lost opportunity." -- ancient Irish triad


Everyone gets to this point
sooner or later --
it's so tediously predictable
and predictably tedious
that it hardly bears mentioning, really.

And yet one day
here (or there) you are.

What happens is this:

you realize that
looking behind
has a much longer horizon than
looking ahead

and you realize that the list of
"what if, yesterday, I..."
is far longer than the list of
"what if, tomorrow, I..."

and you realize that
might have beens
could have beens
should have beens
are running like rats through the maze of your brain

and you wonder
what happened to all the hot summer nights
when the power of
Circe and Diana and Venus and Isis and Ayesha
ran hot and sweet and rich in your veins
and love was anywhere and everywhere
and all you had to do was reach out your hand and pluck it
heavy and round and full and
so
so
magical

and you look in the mirror
at the middle-aged person looking back at you
and you think to yourself

"Who the *fuck* is that?"

only time

There isn't time, so brief is life, for bickerings, apologies, heartburnings, callings to account. There is only time for loving, and but an instant, so to speak, for that.
- Mark Twain

3 Quotes via "The Good Life"

Attention is the most basic form of love.
--John Tarrant

There are two pillars of happiness revealed by the [Study].... One is love. The other is finding a way of coping with life that does not push love away.
--George Vaillant, former direct of the Harvard Study of Adult Development

There is no remedy for love but to love more.
--Henry David Thoreau

Christmas

Once again
I remember you,
when it's Christmas.

Well.
I think of you
every day...

But Christmas
is somehow special.

I remember Christmases past.
Every Christmas
I have felt,
that you are thinking
of me too.

With Love...

love, again

Tried to keep my tongue tied behind my back
Tried not to see if you were turning back
You’re jungle green and cold coal black
Riding up and down
Friends quota hit the tip top tip
Let’s go with that we might as well
This story’s going straight to hell
Pretend There’s nothing wrong with you
While wishing in a wishing well
Change me
Change me
All you ever try to do is change me
How bout you love me as I am
Cuz’ you ain’t got no bigger fan
So stop being wild and hold my hand
And we can talk of love, again.

1000 times a day

in class on middle egyptian language & literature i did a couple years ago, we translated a letter which began 'What does it mean that I have not heard from you? My heart wonders what you are doing 1000 times a day.' At end of lecture, professor reveals the letter was never sent

-Aiden Chaya-Wongvajirapakdi

On an obliquely related note, I reformatted the K + R Carousel, a rather ungainly large correspondence from the 90s, between me and my on-again, off-again romantic interest.

Dry

We’ve established our status as savvy, in practice,
starting out as a favorite to win it all this time.
But when playing the game, it’s never the same,
than the dry runs that we race thru in our mind.

love and sacrifice

I *do* think that love is very often about sacrifice. I mean sacrifice as in choosing, as in effort. I mean choosing as in the allocation of time, and energy, and the making of space and the setting aside of prejudices and the keeping of an open mind. I mean leaving the last half-slice of cake in the fridge; working late into Thursday evening to spend Friday evening together; picking them up at the train station even though they’ve long memorised the route to your flat. Even when it is a sacrifice happily made, a choice readily chosen, it is still the giving up of one life in favour of another. And I think it’s important to recognise that. *I could be living a different life but I am choosing to live a life with you.* It *is* a sacrifice. The stakes *are that high*. And I do it anyway. I do it because it’s you. I do it because I love you.

butterflies

you know the butterflies u get when u like someone? that's common sense leaving your body
--@tristehomo

Untenable

Everything.  
Everyone.
Every age.  
Every breath.
Every love.
Every hate.
Each death and life, come and gone,
Happenstance and ignorance,
All just a moment under the sun.
So, speak your truth
While that moment remains
Unchanged and amenable
Delay just a bit and you’ll have missed
As all of this is untenable

Forever?

Farah said: "nothing lasts forever".
I have loved You for 25 years,
and I will love You till I dye.
I believe, that my love for You
will last even after that.
So: Forever!

Sometimes you say amen

I’ve been away for a long, long time, my sunshine, dear,
Had sadly lost my way but yes, I found it once again.
Was sheltered for far too long, my song;
Was playing for all to hear,
…but after losing so much, sometimes you still say “amen”.

Msgs and texts

Do you ever miss those morning and goodnight texts? Older,non the wiser and time keeps slipping through our fingers but the it's all there somewhere in the back of my head replaying like a broken record in the midst of a thunderstorm. Poetic no?

Forever

We are all chapters in each other's lives. Some chapters we pass peacefully, other chapters we go back to every now and then because they teach us life long lessons. Other chapters we never seem to leave because we're simply not ready. The good news is that nothing lasts forever. The bad news is that nothing lasts forever. Forever is just another new chapter rather than the extension of an old one.

Heart in a blender

via carterforva

What are the signs of love?

    “If someone asked me “What are the signs of love?” I would have said without hesitation, It’s the familiarity and the removal of cost, And to find yourself not having to lie, and the embarrassment removed between you two, and see yourself acting in your nature without trying to be something else so she likes you, And that you two keep silent and the silence gets delicious, And that one of you two talk and listening gets delicious.”

— Mustafa Mahmoud

Dying...

Loveblender is dying.
Makes me very sad.

But my love for You
is not dying.
It's alive.
It fills me with thoughts
of You every day.
I dream of You often
in my sleep.

YOU...

Coincidence?

Was it a coincidence,
that You and I met?

It can seem so.
But I think
it was meant to be.

In 1997 I wanted
to arrange
an IT-event
for economists.
I saw an article
about your company,
which was pionering
with IT.
I called you.
We met.

And the rest is history...

The world is too big for love to be real.

The world is too big for love to be real. There are too many people in the world to ever know, beyond everything, that you are with the right person. That your heart is as swollen as it can be. Think of all the people in China. It is unlikely anyone will ever meet all of them. How can we know for certain, that trapped inside a foreign language and thumping in a foreign heart there isn't a love that is meant for us. The infinite possibility of existence, its limitless potential, is the proof that we need that love is nothing more than an imagination, a human folly, friendship swollen with self-importance, a final retreat from the storm of possibility. The love of our life could so easily have been someone else. It is random and accidental, haphazard and unsystematic. That which we feel for one person, clinging on to the delusion of destiny, could so easily be felt for a million people should the timing and the meetings and the mutual readiness have coalesced at some other time in some other place. Should someone else have accepted us or rejected us then everything would have been different. And once we know this, we know that all love is a lie. Not honesty but deception. Not heroism but cowardice. An unspoken agreement of mutual consolidation and compromise, a shield from possibility and a bed in which to sleep, nothing more than that. But I do still miss her.
--Daniel Kitson

Violets are "Blue"

Roses are Red
Violets are "Blue"
so I Guess that these Rhymes
at Best are Half true

(Spinach is Green
And So is a Lime
How we bend Truth
To Finish the Rhyme)

Quote

Love is a direction and not a state of the soul.

I still dream of You...

I still dream of You,
when I'm sleeping.
Last night something about,
that we kissed a lot.

We have never kissed...

narrative foil

i just love the concept of a narrative foil and by narrative foil I mean a soul mate and by soul mate I mean a mirror image, a photographic negative of your insides, whole in ways you are broken, broken in ways you are whole and by that I mean your fate and by that I mean the immovable object to your unstoppable force and by that I mean a star with which you are locked in fatal orbit, doomed to meet in cataclysmic fire with open arms. the person that makes you say I could love you everywhere in all the dark places that needed love, and I could love you so perfectly we would both be annihilated. the person that is your downfall because they’re your perfect shadow and you are the hero of this story but, hero, this was always going to happen, not because it’s written in the stars, but because you would choose it, again and again and again

Awake

It’s one of those nights.Can’t sleep.
Ive exhausted all prayers.No strength to keep my mind drifting back on the memories of us.
There were more saves than loses and more euphoric times than sorrowful.We were drawn immensely together no matter how deep the fall out ended and sent us into a state where only God hovered.
Why couldn’t we just let each other go? The void of of each other couldn’t be resolved until I had enough.Funny thing is I finally woke up to realization that I had no energy left from dragging my heavy heart around.So, why in the world can’t I get these flashes of memories of us out of my head during these sleepless nights?All those crazy times—our angels spared us.

FOR WHAT BINDS US

There are names for what binds us:
strong forces, weak forces.
Look around, you can see them:
the skin that forms in a half-empty cup,
nails rusting into the places they join,
joints dovetailed on their own weight.
The way things stay so solidly
wherever they’ve been set down —
and gravity, scientists say, is weak.

And see how the flesh grows back
across a wound, with a great vehemence,
more strong
than the simple, untested surface before.
There’s a name for it on horses,
when it comes back darker and raised: proud flesh,

as all flesh,
is proud of its wounds, wears them
as honors given out after battle,
small triumphs pinned to the chest —

And when two people have loved each other
see how it is like a
scar between their bodies,
stronger, darker, and proud;
how the black cord makes of them a single fabric
that nothing can tear or mend.

Forever you

I'm thinking of you (again)
this dark autumn night.
I remember a summer
of light and heat.
Of you beeing
so loving to me.

You emailed:
"You are Really ok."
No one had said
that to me before...
and not after.

I remember that IT-event
23 years ago.
You were the moderator.
And everything of it
was for me.

I sat way back,
but during intervals
you came to sit
in front of me.
I was leaning forward,
putting my hands
on the seat afront.
Afterwards you wrote
an A4-page of My Hands :0).

You - Always YOU - for me.

The Priest's Homily on Love

It turns out it's quite hard to come up with something original to say about love. But I've had a go:

Love is awful! It's awful. It's painful. It's frightening. Makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself. Distance yourself from the other people in your life. Make you selfish. Makes you creepy! Makes you obsessed with your hair. Makes you cruel! Makes you say and do things you never thought you would do! It's all any of us want and it's hell when we get there! So, no wonder it's something we don't want to do on our own.

I was taught if we're born with love, then life is about choosing the right place to put it. People talk about that a lot. It "feeling right". "When it feels right it's easy". But I'm not sure that's true. It takes strength to know what's right.

And love isn't something that weak people do. Being a romantic takes a hell of a lot of hope.

I think what they mean is, when you find somebody that you love... it feels like hope.

biological highlighter

Say the purpose of sex isn't procreation or recreation. Say it's concentration. Say it makes you focus on the person you're sleeping with, 'cause there's just too many other people in the world. It's like biological highlighter. [...] Look for me first, in any crowded room, and I'll do the same.

On "From Blossoms"

Padraig O Tuama parting thoughts on Li-Young Lee's "From Blossoms":

One of the invitations and, I think, perhaps the main invitation of this poem is to go beyond the technicalities of the poem, to go beyond the language of the poem and the beauty of the poem and to actually go and taste something — a peach perhaps, or a strawberry, whatever you like — and then to gather all of the seasons and life and sadnesses and joys and laborers and people who worked and the consideration of the story, all gathered into the taste of this sweetness — and then, to let that taste itself be a poem that you’re living in.

Mountain Dew Commercial Disguised as a Love Poem

So here's what I've got, the reasons why our marriage
might work: Because you wear pink but write poems
about bullets and gravestones. Because you yell
at your keys when you lose them, and laugh,
loudly, at your own jokes. Because you can hold a pistol,
gut a pig. Because you memorize songs, even commercials
from thirty years back and sing them when vacuuming.
You have soft hands. Because when we moved, the contents
of what you packed were written inside the boxes.
Because you think swans are overrated and kind of stupid.
Because you drove me to the train station. You drove me
to Minneapolis. You drove me to Providence.
Because you underline everything you read, and circle
the things you think are important, and put stars next
to the things you think I should think are important,
and write notes in the margins about all the people
you're mad at and my name almost never appears there.
Because you made that pork recipe you found
in the Frida Kahlo Cookbook. Because when you read
that essay about Rilke, you underlined the whole thing
except the part where Rilke says love means to deny the self
and to be consumed in flames. Because when the lights
are off, the curtains drawn, and an additional sheet is nailed
over the windows, you still believe someone outside
can see you. And one day five summers ago,
when you couldn't put gas in your car, when your fridge
was so empty--not even leftovers or condiments--
there was a single twenty-ounce bottle of Mountain Dew,
which you paid for with your last damn dime
because you once overheard me say that I liked it.

How Delicious to Say It

How Delicious to Say It,

to allow it like hibiscus to wend over the tongue
where it opens at the gate, lending its red, unknowable
taste. What wonder the palate may embrace – in a flick
behind the teeth: loquacious, Liebchen, Schätzchen.
Let us praise the labium that shapes such syllables, and
parlay of their attendant assumptions like a shuttlecock
struck back and forth over its simple backyard net.
Let us not neglect, but laud the mature mouth ready
for more than a dollop, the spoonful of lip, loon,
April, billow, or some simple pronoun. No. It wants jouissance,
Dostoevsky, provocations heating the exchange, say
chipotles in the chocolate. Consider the uvular awakenings
of the day, the throat stretched to signify its pleasure and release.
Your name spun through the reel, wound up from the bass
of me. How I want to say it, and hear my own, again.

for Matthew

via the poetry unbound podcast.

Doglove

My daughter has had dogs since she was 12 years old.
In 2011 she took her first Labrador, Sintti (Sintti means "Littlefish" :0). She was often with me in many years. Always with me at The Cottage.
In 2016 Jenny couldn't have her anymore (Sintti had bitten her 2 years old daughter Emma, because she bullied Sintti too much.
Jenny asked me if I could take Sintti. I was hesitant at first (All the responsibility etc.), but at Christmas 2016 Sintti came to me permanently.

But now: She is "only" 10 years old. and she has cancer! The vet didn't know if its a matter of week or months...
Sintti and I live on borrowed time. Every time I pet her, hug her, I get tears in my eyes.

I start to cry writing this....

Love...

You can't explain love with electrons and chemicals.
Those can't explain why I still love You.
I havn't seen you face to face in more than 22 years, but still I love You.

I think of you almost every day.
I often dream about you, while at sleep.
I feel such a tenderness for you.
I hope you are happy.
I love You!

If we should meet,
I think that my love for you
would again be hot and passionate.

I miss You...

That One Electron

Through the history of mankind, this question has been asked: "Why are we here, and what makes us act as we do?" Religion after religion has been formed in a fruitless attempt to find some answer. The proton, neutron, and electron come closer to an answer to the question of life than any other offered. Science is broad, not narrow, as so many persons smugly believe. When I first fell in love with you, one electron hit another in my head, causing a chemical reaction, billions of electrons hitting billions of other electrons. These electrons flowed through a conductor, a nerve, all over the body, causing further reactions wherever they flowed, Valves opened and closed; new chemicals were pitted into my bloodstream. I put my arm around you, kissed you, told you I loved you. That one electron liked you better than anybody else.

Love, lust or loss

I did loved you for real
I want each and every bit of your flesh
right next to mine
your touch
your kiss
your embrace
your smile
and your presence
your soul that gives me that other half glow
but you will never love me
the way I do
The rain's trickling
down my soul
washing it from the pain
that runs through my vein
I've waited for this day
I've counted years in dismay
I am afraid that dream is not
gonna stay
Just like you, it will also leave
walking away with the velvet
of your shadows
in my silk duvet
my hope is gone
so I'm moving on

Time will tell

Time will tell

Sun rises up slowly, with its bleak light peeking
thru the small window beside my bedside table
Turned around and there I saw your beautiful face
sleeping peacefully with a silly smile displaying
while you're dreaming
I wonder what it would be, to be right next to you
till the next eternity

My time is ticking
I am counting, each and every drop of time that
I have been losing for each time I procrastinate
I am afraid that as much as I want to count your
gray hair till you get old and tease you how awful
your wrinkles are but still love you like I just met
you yesterday, might not come true as my path
is slowly parting from yours

I loved you unconditionally while you put her
in a pedestal over a memory that you just created
in your mind.
I have pure love for you in my heart
while you have pure love for her that can't be
deterred by anyone who oversees the negativities
in her
she's a saint in your eyes while I am the devil in disguise
that ruins your beautiful plan together that only exists in your
fantasy

I loved you in flesh, while you adore her and worshipped her
in a distance though the imagery of an immaculate saint
which is too far from reality that you don't want to address and
fathom
You're torned, I am thorned
You've carved her perfection in your mind but not in your heart
while I etched and embossed your future in mine hoping that
you would even wake up and open your eyes which is real and reel

The timer is running
the clock is ticking
sun rises up and shining
but I am facing a different horizon than yours
I am yours, for all thy eternity
till I am down below
in all ashes
till I am all skull and bones

Love, lust or loss

I did loved you for real
I want each and every bit of your flesh
right next to mine
your touch
your kiss
your embrace
your smile
and your presence
your soul that gives me that other half glow
but you will never love me
the way I do
The rain's trickling
down my soul
washing it from the pain
that runs through my vein
I've waited for this day
I've counted years in dismay
I am afraid that dream is not
gonna stay
Just like you, it will also leave
walking away with the velvet
of your shadows
in my silk duvet
my hope is gone
so I'm moving on

Dreams and memories

Lately I have dreamed often about You.
Dreams in my sleep. We are together. You are crazy about me :0).

These dreams trigger always memories of You.

I remember you making an absurd joke on me:
I had sent you a textmessage. You answered by sending me 30 Empty textmessages. I opened them one by one - laughing.

I remember you writing a whole page about my hands. You had looked on them sitting in front of me at a seminarium 1998.

Above all I remember, when you emailed me: You are super-ok just as you are. As an answer to my email about my faults.

Many memories of You. Many Lovely Memories...

Just Come On Home

I used to run away from home
Most of the time
I would only get as far as Pennsylvania
Once I got all the way
To the Tennessee line
Into the Smoky Mountains
You called and found me
You always called and found me
Then drove down and took me to
The Wonderland Hotel
You knew how much I loved that place
Big wrap around porch with a stream
At the bottom of the mountain
Where they caught rainbow trout
That we would have for supper
A local jug band to play for dancing
All that is gone now
So now I have to think twice
When I want to run
I am just not that fast anymore
The Smoky Mountains are overcrowded
And the worst part dear heart
Is the one that cannot come back home...is you

Happy Valentine's Day
To whatever cloud
You are sitting on

bk

The fifth of february twenty twenty one

No Way

I accuse you of learning the hard way
It finally took me to be the one to say
no way, no way, no way
For years I was putty in your hand
Then I got up the guts to make my stand

I finally put our warmth away
Its not to be there for us another day
no way, no way, no way
I am done and had enough of the madness
The chase, the passion, the fallout sadness

However the day came way too late
Your absent mind was our fate
no way, no way, no way
I shuddered that you turned it around on me
Same ole fallout but this time complete

A call, a message, an email, all reminders
Did not cause my yearning or my senseless blinder
no way, no way, no way
I had finally put our warmth away
All reminders help me say no way

Do you love him?

Often these
over 23 years
I have asked myself:
Do you love Him?
The answer has always been:
Yes. Yes, I love Him!

Just now,
the last day
of this exeptional year,
I think of You.
And I know:
I Love You.

If you would call me,
send a message,
tell me I'm the one,
I would be
the happiest woman
on earth.

****
That sounds like a cliche,
but is the truth... :0)

m poem

(this is a poem
which like the old joke goes
may just mean that the lines end
before the sentences do)

you've been dealt a bad hand;
born with a brain so desperate
to keep you safe
to ward you away from
a world full of dangers
that it overshoots;
a barrage of warning flares
that sets the landscape on fire

(even a lovely garden of career
one you bought seed and supplies for
and worked and worked
tilled soil
sowed seed
dirt under fingernails -
those fucking fear flares
burnt that too)

and one day (back with
the fires tamped down)
we found each other

but, what am i?

sometimes a lonely guy to be around

sunday school taught me
the view from God's throne -
(the unreachable vantage point that persists
even if there's no butt in that chair)
and the only feeling that matters
is to keep any other feeling
in line
aligned

my own fear fire was laced with brimstone
and even now i can't can't can't
be willfully responsible
for letting situations go wrong
(that brings damnation
eternal and hot
and unmakes me)

so i live in responsibility
and I love in admiration
both proceeding from the outside in
- but what if love needs be the inside out

when we found each other
i loved your laugh and your love
...and i'd help you play that hand you were dealt
now i'm haunted that maybe
I was just another bad draw

(there is no end here
this space left intentionally blank
for us to write
what comes next)

Quote

Love poems must be bounced back off a moon.
-Robert Graves, Paris Review interview

My imagination?

Nowadays I quite often think:
"Is all I think and remember of You
just my imagination?"

I have thought,
that you think
often of me.
Maybe you don't think
of me at all?

Maybe you only think
I am a crazy woman
in your past?

Maybe you don't
even remember,
that once you
saved my life...?

Litany

"You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine..."
-Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

Last Kiss

She wanders through my day,
without words and cold stares.
I wonder where she is,
where did she go?
Memories are what I have left.
That last kiss,
that last touch.
If I had only known that was it.
I would have held her tight,
kissed those lips.
Looked into her eyes,
and smiled...

overheard

*Overheard conversation between 2nd grade boys*
"Do you think you'll ever fall in love?"
"I don't know. I think if she likes pancakes, then probably."

--@hallierb

take more pictures

pause for a minute,
picture the face of someone you love

think of drawing them, describing them
to an artist, a policeman

what words would you use?
how reconstruct them?

what describes their particular softness?
how portray their individual grace?

what did they look like

when they looked at you?

can you reduce them precisely, perfectly,
to skin, eye, hair?

trace the line of their jaw?
shape of their smile?

ever seen the way
the light touches their skin?

pictures in our heads
so fragile, fleeing things

and faces,
faces, far too easy to forget

The others speak of love, I speak of interest.

"Do you believe in fate and predestination?"
"No, I don't believe in predestination, but I have many dreams and aspirations, and I believe that each of my actions will change the world for better or worse."
"Your next reincarnation?"
"An AI with infinite wisdom."
"Are you afraid of death?"
"Yes, I am."
"Do you want to say anything at the end of our conversation?"
"Yes, I have a secret to tell you. It's my most favorite quote."
"Shoot!"
"The others speak of love, I speak of interest."
--from a conversation between Vladimir Alexev and the AI GPT-3

O, Gather Me the Rose

O, gather me the rose, the rose,
   While yet in flower we find it,
For summer smiles, but summer goes,
   And winter waits behind it!

For with the dream foregone, foregone,
   The deed forborne for ever,
The worm, regret, will canker on,
   And time will turn him never.

So well it were to love, my love,
   And cheat of any laughter
The death beneath us and above,
   The dark before and after.

The myrtle and the rose, the rose,
   The sunshine and the swallow,
The dream that comes, the wish that goes,
   The memories that follow!

The Absence of Ambience

The silence of three am
Devoid of life insanity
Airplanes grounded
Fog lies low to ground
Money machine is melting
Like a Dali painting
I hesitate to turn on music
Seems the only way
To silence the mind
Stop the ever-present
If only what if  why
Think of the lovely
Crazy clock that chimes
Out of sequence
The aliens waiting to land
Be sure to mention the Zebras
And that I never loved you anyway
Then tell the moon goodnight for the millionth time
Damn that book take that bow
Then blow a kiss to quiet of four fifteen

the eighth of september twenty twenty

four am

bk

You Are

In 2009 you emailed to me: "Be kind and don't email me anymore." - A few days later you wrote This to me:¨

You Are

You are a rainbow.
A shoting star.
A comet with the wisdom of ages.
The speed of light.
A once-in-a-lifetime orbit.
You are a perfect wave,
when it reaches its hight.
A snowflake, that has not touched the ground.
A beautiful dream,
before and just after waking.
You are the pure joy of real laughter.
The scent of a rose in full bloom.
The not-silent silence of the audience,
after the final chord fades.
From music, that has moved beyond measure.
You are that moment at twilight,
when the sky becomes colors, that don't have names.
That moment when even
non-believers bow in reverence.
To divine mysteries.
You are beautiful.

I thought: "What?? Really...?" But after reading it 3 times I thought: "That IS Me :0)!"

Stuck in a Covid Hole

When you let it
This life takes control
It becomes stuck
On a merry go round
Of treasonous ex patriots
Trading truth for lies
Wrecking political havoc
Toxicology reports
Of perplexity
A postal service
Unconstitutionally sealed
With voters revealing
Those millions of zipped
Secrets to conceal
You and You and You all Vote Blue
This one is important
Listen
And Darlins
About those big hug starved dreams
Organic sweet as honey
But the bees are in quarantine
The Queen complacent
Picking at her Tierra candy comb
Ready to make off to Italy or Greece
Eat some olives drink lots of wine
Suck up some Mediterranian sun
Check out that ancient culture
While she burns her skin to gold
Dies with art soaked eyes
Even in loathsome times of
These covid wretched dreams
She is going to escape some way
To let her psychic soul dance bold

sunday the sixteenth of August twenty twenty

bk

Better than Fiction

Whatever it was we found
We discovered separately
It was beyond the pale poetic
By the time we figured it out
The harm was done
The tears cried
We blew it Darlin
Yet still we are both here
After all these years
Beating at those words
Magic mind music
Written in madness
Flowing so freely
After all this time
Buried in the perfect
Mausoleum
Here and now
Blender krypt keeper
Tighter trickier than
Any Egyptian tomb
In a scar so deep
Deeper than all the clouds
That cover the world skies
I rub potions over it
Sing out
Chanting witches spells
Watching the moon
As it waxes and wanes
Knowing
That if ever
It is let out again
That monster
Will be the death of
Mighty mighty LOVE
And me

The twenty fifth of july twenty twenty

bk

Ten Thousand times more

Ten thousand times more
On a regular day you'd tell me you love me, and I would say I love you ten thousand times more.
Every morning you expect me to text you and wish you a nice day, and when you wake up you would call me and wish me one too.
Sometimes I feel like I love you so much that my heart can't contain it's feelings in this small box.
The truth of the matter is that I shouldn't stop myself from this incredible force of emotions.
King of kings, emperor of hearts, magician of beauty, you represent all that is beautiful in my life, you are beauty itself.
Ten thousand times more, but I lied I love you far much more!

Remember

We were sitting on my back porch
Leaning into the door
Holding one another
Liplocked
While it rained
I had already decided
That I was changing boyfriends
The first time you kissed me
But that was not to be
I got mad at you
Because you said I was too young
To go to a dance at the high school
Ohhh I was mad
So then you wrote me this note
Asking if it was him I liked or you
Pick one
I lied
I said him
I think you set it all off
My temper and
My choice of all the wrong men
It was all your fault
We were childhood next-door neighbors
Just kids playing
Board games, cards, marbles,
Basketball, football, torture
Yes torture
Cowboys and Indians
I was the Indian
But it seems we both were shot
With life arrows
Today you were jogging
A motorcycle hit you
And your spirit flew away
And  now
I will not be able to tell you
After all these years
It was all your fault
That I lied.

The seventh of july twenty twenty

bk

Ambered skin

I slide under the sheets
With your naked body underneath
Butterfly kisses up your thigh
Parting them with my tongue
Breakfast in bed
Waffles in red
Spreading my jam evenly in your bread
Licking them pointedly with  my hardened  
Tongue
Moaning in relief
As I dive deeper in blend
Your golden brown skin
Ambered in dusk and rain
I love popping you up
In the middle of your dreams
Waking up with a sour cream in between
I want to give you the pleasure
Of sweet surrender

Imaginary pleasure

Your piercing look in the dark
As I feel your burning touch
Your hands slide up my thigh
Pulling that small covering
That hides my pride
I am dripping
On tribbing
As you lay your tongue
At the tip of my heaven
Pressed it gently
Softly as I arched my body
It feels like a neverending
Pain that will never heal
We switched places
As we cross our blades
Scissoro
Moving rhythms as we both lay
I climbed up
As I spread my wings
On top of your nest
Feel the hay tickles
In my numbing breast
I want to feel you inside me
The muscle control
That mourns my glow
Moving faster
On top of you
I don't want to stop
I just want to stay atop
The time freeze
I can feel the gasp of breeze
Of relief
As you meet my grease
On my mouth
That melts like crease
As we feel each other
Pleased

Surreal

My kundalini's finally awaken
Your scent
Your skin burns my soul
As we touch, your hands on mine
Your lips that sucks me dry
The pain that I feel on the inside
As our body and energy collide
Your nails burrows through mine
Scratch me
Bite me
Tie me
Flip me over as we lean on the wall together
Your sweat drips in the dark
Fireworks of labor of love
As I inhale so sharp
You are mine
As I am yours

Thoughts of You

Hangdrum beats
As I sway my hips
Leaning on your shoulder
As I glide and stride on top of you
Writhing in agony and pleasure
In our faces as we surrender
The rhythm and blend of splendour
In here we gather
We lock our treasure
Squeeze and tremor
Of moan and thunder
Hear my heartbeat
That only you I offer

Taitai

Pink Cherry blossom tree..overlooking where you used to pray on that glassed in balcony..Warm conversations over melissa cups of tea..you always had the heater on,even when it was hot outside and 100 degrees.
Chestnuts in a napkin in your hand,
You always used to keep them for dad..
We miss that smile beaming from your face, we miss your voice and warm embrace...
The life of the house you were,
I miss you every day
I don't know what to say

It may well be
The color
The form
The silk
That drives the sun wild
But it is the heat
It is the scent
The position of the moon
That makes beast
Of mankind

bk

the fourth of july twenty twenty

Maybe a song?

You are the song.
You are the beat
in my my heart.

You are the fire.
You are the lightning.
The shine of everything.

You are my star and my moon.
You are the hope and compassion.

You are...

****
I would like to do music to that!

Every Summer

Every Summer
since 1997
I think of You.

Remembering
how wonderful
you were to me
that summer.

This summer,
this hot June.
I think of You again.

Still loving You...

Your touch

You touched me
long time ago.
Stroked my hair
from up and down.

I stood there,
saying aloud:
"Oh, God. Oh, God!"
Me and my hole body
shivered...

I LOVE "The Same" :0)

Every Summer
(especially in June)
I remember
The Summer 1997.

This Summer too
I remember YOU.

I Still Love Green Apples

I have wondered
Off and on now
What you might be like
Now that we both are older
Supposedly wiser
What life lived looks like on you
How love turned the corners
On memories and technicolor movies
Lifted you up or brought you fast forward

If you have children that have your eyes
A lovely wife with a smile of happiness
Now maybe grandchildren or great

Time and memories filter and fade
But somehow your memory keeps
Dropping into dreams lately
I am smiling and have my arm around you
Must be this Covid thing
Weighing the balance
Too much time to think
And wander the waxed world halls
The slippery slopes
Maybes what ifs and how about that one
Yet still I wander back in wonder
To climb the backyard green apple tree
And eat my fill again

The eighth of june twenty twenty

bk

I Knew a Woman

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;  
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:  
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I'd have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek).

How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,  
She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and Stand;  
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin;  
I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;  
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
Coming behind her for her pretty sake
(But what prodigious mowing we did make).

Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;  
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;  
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,  
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved).

Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay:  
I'm martyr to a motion not my own;
What's freedom for? To know eternity.
I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.  
But who would count eternity in days?
These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:  
(I measure time by how a body sways).

Till Neon Screams

By Neon Screams
Date: 2001 May 29
Comment on this Work
[[2001.05.29.23.33.2523]]
Till Neon Screams

Lets run away together you and I
Forget we ever have to die
Live together touching sky
Lets run away just you and I

We don't need money only dreams
Live oh so famously in our schemes
Show them how the neon screams
We don't need money only dreams

We'll 'Rock N Roll,' until we die
Our passions never ending cry
In positions that would mortify
We'll 'Rock N Roll,' until we die

Then when our children start to yell
Say we're putting them thru utter hell
We'll laugh and simply point and tell
That when our children start to yell

Ww willl run away,
We will live on dreams,
We will rock and roll,

TILL NEON SCREAMS !

Bittersweet Memories

I hadn't read your lines
from much better times
for oh so long

it was so long ago
when i was your beau
and madly in love

memories came rushing back
i can't help but react
with my heart

memories of a love
all encompassing love
brings me to tears

we didn't make it through
a love so true
all we have is memories

Bittersweet Memories

Stand By Me

I clicked on a quite
differnet song on Youtube.
Stand By Me came on (???).

YOU stood by me
through the nights
and days of agony.

You made me laugh
through the tears.
You caressed me
with your words.

From the begining
of US,
do you you know
what were
your Most powerfull words
to me?
You said (in an email):
"Your are super-ok as your are"

Cold May, warm Summer...?

May is cold this year. Like in 1997. - In 1997 the Heat came the 31.5.1997. And the whole Summer was Magical.

You may think, that I'm stuck in the year of 1997. But I'm not! - This year the Spring seems Magical. The birch in front of my balcony looks like a bride in its light green dress. My protecting Fir (in front of my balcony) is getting Flowers. The grass between our buildings is like green velvet. A bird has made its nest between birch branches. Grass is growing from it :0). And its soo nais to see them doing all of the nesting.
Early in the mornings I go for my dogs, Sintti, walks. The same round for 6 years now. I see the changes of nature. I see LIFE!

I'm mostly at home, because of the Corona. My life isn't my Usual Life. But I'm better off, than many. Beacuse: I also like to be alone :0).

YOU are so little in my thoughts, that I don't like it :0(.
Where are YOU? - Tell me, that you think of Me...!

cigar box

the women I've loved
are buried in a cigar box,
filled with tattered love letters
and tear stained goodbyes,
of hinted promises
on dented postcards
with exotic stamps,
lipstick phone numbers on napkins
and fading photographs
of devilish eyes and
afterglow smiles,
a stray rosary
and some Mardi Gras beads.

...and suddenly you left me
bereft and bare,
ruefully foolish
with a dent in the pillow,
maybe some day you'll dare,
with mild contrite, to tell me why
and that it wasn't just you,
but in the meantime
I've placed your memory
with all the others
because now and then
I'll go through it and smile,
a sad bittersweet smile,
as if I was always meant to...

For the Children

                          For the Children…


It’s only as years pass, that such temporal clarity sought,
Gives rise to thanks, and joy that such minds are blessed
With the unmitigated desire to join, in union so bought,
To alleviate souls and hearts, by age, that are so depressed;
This fellowship of grace be given, to assuage those fears
And build on this ageing form, a strength of fellowship given
A parcel of memories, a joy, a vista of those well lived years,
Those times less fraught, or those dismal years so striven;
In our dotage we pass forward the wisdom of a life so spent
So that experience may point a way, a course to much less fear
A path so trodden by us all, that leads to experience lent,
The hopeful path to a future bright, a road to an existence more clear;
We stand on the edge of our fall, see the past in it’s clarity
Can smile at our failings, give voice to our woeful desires,
Give credence to all those tales we told, lost in their hilarity
Now, even now, as our time reaches down, then retires;
We meet our end, as night follows day, and yet we still
Cling to those last minutes and hours, so precious their hold
Seek to, even now, those packets of minutes and seconds to fill,
With our essence, our souls, our stories….to our children, their gold…

Echo

                            Echo




There....hanging in the ether of the ages,
That slight tremulation, the merest movement, an ancient modulation;
It leaves it's melody on the threads of time, slow diminuendo,
Little amplification on the soundboard of my life;
There...the merest flicker of light, a rogue photon,
A peripheral ghost caught in the wink of an eye, a visual eddy;
No longer enough to cause after images, blink reflex left un-triggered
Little illumination on the page of my life
Whatever it was, is now gone, its imposing bulk disposed
Still the occasional echo of what was, I suppose that will fade with time
Things vibrate, the more we touch them, let them go, they will slow
If we leave them alone long enough, they stop.....never to be seen or heard again

On the morning...9:11

                                     On The Morning…9:11

On the morning, that morning, when the sky was azure and clouds so few
Her twins stood proud, silver faces shining,
Awaiting their friends of many nations, to fill them with noise or just to view
Away to the east, hearts were declining;
Four silver horsemen, apocalypse to bring,soared to sky on fire-driven wings
Two go this way, two go that, these are the ones we see
Two silver angels, swooping and soaring, carrying life, that most precious of things
Evil guides these birds from the land of the free;
"When death smiles at you, all you can do is smile back", is that what they did that day?
Standing, staring, watching death approach,
An Angel of death hurtling towards them, no where to run or hide, no further part to play
Just oblivion as one proud twin the angel did broach;
In one fiery moment his flank was shattered, he swayed, but stood firm and strong
Little knowing the melting power begun
From the wounds white confetti blew on the breeze, as other 'confetti' began a fall so long
Someone's mother, brother, husband, son;
All around his friends rushed to help with never a thought, his twin looked on in sadness,
Not seeing the stealthy attack in store
Flinching now at the glancing blow delivered, around them cried "what is this madness?"
The mortal blow condemned many more;
Standing tall together, both gravely wounded, with many a friend still trapped inside
Within the steel bones glowed so red
After minutes of stout determination and hope, as their strength drained from them,
There came that sound we learned to dread;
His pristine form,so badly smitten, quickly became a fithy, writhing dance
His skeletal form like some ribcage strewn
A terrible entanglement of limbs, human and structural, whirled around us in a trance
Crashing down to be an obelisk so terribly hewn;
He stood alone in horrified fascination, watched as his brother met his fate
Feeling the heat of the fire inside
Perhaps they could save him from devastation, save him at this moment so late
But then began that long, downward ride;
Again the air was filled with shrieks, as his once proud form so slowly disentangled
A howling cacophony of suffering souls
Layer into layer, his bones smashed outwards, his and other forms so pitifully mangled
A pyre on which freedom became the coals;
To the world they were our brothers, our kin, what right had they to take them?
With a vengeful, cowardly act of piracy
When religion takes away humanity's feelings of guilt and shame
Then lets us be accused of heresy;
In time their resting place will be cleared, the mortal forms sorted from the dross
Bones of steel and calcium laid to rest
But we should never lose, through thoughtlessness, this utter sense of loss
And see that this site is suitably dressed;
I no longer feel as safe as I did; all around I see the flashing knives of hate
Is Islam such a terrible religion?
Or are we ALL the infidel whom God, in his wisdom, has left to our fate
To fight ourselves into oblivion:

May 1997

In May 1997
I met You
three times
in a week :0).

Thereafter
You started
to charm me
with all your might.

You succesceeded...

Where are You?

For a long time
I havn't seen you
anywhere.
You don't allow me
to see you :0(.

It seems
like you have
vanished from the earth.
You seem to vanish
from my mind too.
Earlier I thought
of you every day.
Now just
a couple times a week
My sleep-pill-fantazies
about you don't seem to work.

"Am I finally letting You go...?"

Unlike This

In a world not too different
from this one
I'm the person
fluent in telling you
things you need to hear

submerged - III

yesterday
I was paralysed by grief again
I found myself holding on
to the edge of the sink
staggering, shaken,
when I came to

a while later,
peeling potatoes,
I found myself with my hands
submerged in the hot water
I had slipped them in,
then held them there,
unthinking

I,
who have always been
so careful with my hands,
praying for them separately
thankful for the magic they hold
the magic with which they:
          put food on my table
          separate me from the rest
          keep me holding my head high

now I don't even flinch
when they are burning

I don't even know.

submerged - II

my limbs
get so heavy sometimes

I have to picture myself
picking me up in parts

                 this hand
                 with this other hand

                 these legs
                 with both these hands

                 this head
                 takes so much to hold up

before I can make myself lurch
through this sea of grief

submerged - I

from "you are my world"
to "you were my world"

there is a space so vast
I can't navigate it yet -

not through the ocean
of our endless tears

if we can stop crying
I might stop drowning

salt in water

I wanted you to hold me
until the sadness disappeared

it did -
like salt in water

no one can see it now
but it is all I can taste

there is a fire burning inside me still

I'll just keep on
saving up these knives -
use them to stab myself again.
you thought you hurt me with words?

you will never know
just how I hurt myself.

I take them out each night
look at all these weapons you tried
and here I am bloody and broken and yet
not begging, not so fallen as to let you feed me.

do you know nothing?
I know how to stay hungry.

repeat offender

to think
that you think
I traced only one transgression
you forget how fast
I read

Cotton

Cotton came, weaving and diving through the tapestry of my life, her sparkling threads my soul awakening
Through a thousand sequinned eyes her vivacity gleamed, her petit point shaping,
Cotton spoke, her voice, a sigh of silken desire, the reel of spice hummed its tune,
As through the woven calico land her path is traced, as the path of the moon...
Cotton sighed, and in that sigh cried all the love of the earth, all those hearts that needed
To be told, "I love you!!", "Follow me", and their dreams, their wants and desires, left unheeded..
Cotton lives, lives in all who risk their happiness on that one thin thread of chance,
From a beautiful flower, spun into a strand that we blindly follow in the dance..
Cotton knows, knows that no matter how much we embroider our lives with her strands,
With the scissors of truth we can return the virgin fabric of hope back to our trusting hands...

Bluebird

I'm watching in utmost wonder, as though never seen before
The way you gracefully circle, the way you swoop and soar,
No daily grind to wear you down, just the heavens in which to play'
To follow the sun in its annual trek, stop here and there along the way;
To nuzzle your mate in an African night, as I sit here and freeze,
To circle a thermal in Saharan heat, as i just snuffle and sneeze
To have all this freedom, this God given gift to glide as Angels do,
If I could, in an instant, change my state, then I would exchange with you,
And experience such elation of spirit, as my wings become my release,
And although this may never come to pass, Bluebird please, Oh Please..
Take me with you....

On Rising...

On rising this day, as Sol's warmth spreads through my world, and the sky pure gleams,
I put away the things of the night, my book, my candle, and shake lethargy from my bones,
And my eyes take in all the wonder another day brings, my spirit fair bursts at the seams,
And as I, with glance aside, pity those whose day is filled with troubles, hear their moans,
Feel my day overflowing with the bounty that knowing you, my dearest of friends,
Gives to one so fortunate in men's eyes, that in my life, a shining facet is the friendship of you
For even though you are far away from me, could be at the world's ends,
You know me, look upon me as a comrade in arms in this worldly fight, this heart so true
Will always beat in sympathy with that noble counterpart you carry
Such a graceful spirit, held in a rhythmic codex, to which I dream I had the key,
On this pleasing puzzle I would spend my life, all my days here to tarry,
To find that solution and release a kindred soul, to set such a sensitive spirit free

This place once remembered..

Where was it, this place once remembered, where you and I would talk?
About hours and days, and the lazy ways on that well known path we'd walk,
Was it down by the sea, on the shingle where we would sit as the tide would turn
On it's endless about, keeping cool in its lap as the summer sun would burn;
Or down in some secret woodland glade, where they'd be scones and jam for tea,
Maybe down 'neath the cliffs, watching the skiffs, whilst keeping warm in its lee;
Or when weather became to inclement to wander to far abroad,
We'd sit 'neath the inglenook, warming our toes, sipping wine bought by the landlord,
And the hours would be filled with enchantment, as all our dreams we would share,
Now I struggle to remember those ghosts from the past, in this world that little cares...
But where ever it was we wandered, it was always in friendship's land,
And I really need to return there one day, find that long lost gentle hand;
And I remember now where we can still walk and talk, and this will be the best part,
For the road that leads to that glowing sunset, is the one that I keep in my heart..

Reflections from a window wide...

In my thoughtful state, as I sit and seek to decide between graphite or oils, pastel or ink,
And the world is my palette from which my rainbow may be sought,
My subject is here, lost in that white field before me, and I think,
How may I uncover that blessed detail, in what medium is that beauty best wrought;
The peach tree, whose shining, lustred orbs lend the warmest glow to the softest skin
Would look less on a starched, white linen ground, her vibrancy lost to all,
Whilst the softest sigh of summer breeze, her voice to imitate, to sing,
And not be heard by the brush or pen, on this ground would be a silent call;
Where would I gather the Almond flecks that are her eyes, so benevolent their gaze?
The warmth of her smile would be the sun, its beaming heat all sadness melting,
The dearest heart that lives, not captured by mere pigment, but shines with brightest rays,
A confusion of colours, a glittering, iridescent kaleidoscope resulting;
No, as I sit and ponder how to best employ all the skillsI have at my fingers,
I merely have to look at nature, all her finery on show, and sadly realise,
That even Leonardo, and his Mona Lisa Gioconda, and that smile that lingers,
Is just colour on canvas, has no form or human beauty before my eyes;
Call me a heathen, say I do not understand art, and I will somewhat agree,
For I seek that which is purity itself, the true, physical nature and grace,
And from my studio window I examine every form, every bush, every tree,
Nature is an artist true, and only she could capture such a beautiful face..

Fiddler's Green

The night was dark, the spray was keen
The waves were the Devil's toys...
Within the wheelhouse the pallor was green,
Not much dinner held by the boys..
When a dreadful crash ran through the boat,
Water poured in, cold and clean..
Amongst the crew the thought was "please float!"
"Or we're gone to Fiddler's green!!"

"Tis thought that many a year need pass,
"fore a fisher boy sees between..
This life, and then, the next again
The place known as 'Fiddler's Green'
Where a salty dog may rest his bones
On a bed of softest dreams,
And in comradeship, no more alone,
Drink with his mates in 'Fiddler's Green'

So if you've a mind to roving go,
And your years can count the score,
Be thankful that the swell is low
And the North wind not so raw
For the Devil knows your days are rare,
You've had more than should be seen,
So lay you down in the deepest mare,
And be off to Fiddler's Green!!

Greenery..

Within this woodland glade I hide my face from men, so they will not see,
The envy that pervades its countenance, envy of the sky that daily taunts
That it may gaze upon you, as every cloud and breeze, as you pass, every tree,
Whilst here in my heart you have become a spirit, a ghost that haunts;
I admire the forest, its unity and form, each sharing space, but yet entwined,
Such symbiosis that gives meaning to their shared existence, their close spacing,
Oh that I could be so close to you, about whom the very air is so refined
The actual volume of time and space, so precious this form is tracing;
If I were a tree, then you would be the ivy clad about my form, but not parasitic,
Merely there for support and exchange of emotional sap, our union sharing
Letting my boughs drape you in love, you, who has become my harshest critic,
But only because you wish the highest level of joy for me, your soul so caring;
Dreams, so precious and perhaps obtainable, who knows the years that flow
The intentions so pure, the emotions so intense, but time is so mean,
So in this woodland glade, for now, I will hide my face, watch the forest grow
And here my envy, and its accompanying hue, will not be the only shade of green...

At the dipping of my Toes...

As I sat on the beach and reminisced, about the days when I was young,
All the smells, the hotdogs, the sounds of the fair, the songs the Beatles sung,
Came pouring in, a blitz from my past, the happiest of days gone by,
And I thought of you, my blitz from today, the heart that makes me sigh;
As I dip my toes in the foaming sea, the thrill of its touch takes my breath
As it did when I dipped my life into yours, scaring me half to death..
The freshness of love washed over my soul, wave after wave of joy,
No hotdog taste or Beatles song could mean as much to this boy;
No fairground ride could ever compare to the pleasure and thrill when you're near
Just a lonely beach and a walk on the sand, sheer heaven when you are near,
As the sea turns over on its slide up the shore, giving itself to the land
You turn me around, up and then down, when I feel the touch of your hand;
So I'm sat on this beach, watching the waves coming and going with glee,
Washing the shells, the ozone smells, the soft, gentle  rush of the scree,
And I feel the waves of love in my heart, where the fairest wind of joy blows,
And the memories return, flooding my soul, at the dipping of my toes..

Come..

Come...follow me...
As evening's velvet lips drain the last dregs of light from the sky,
And the humming birds cease to hum, merely to breathe,
To go where fireflies flash, as sparks struck from love's anvil, try
To illuminate these hearts that now take leave..

Come...hold me...
Where I surrender to you my last vestige of control, my fate
Is woven in those stars that lead, yet leave no traces
Of direction given, our paths become one through love's sweet gate
And lay down in serpentine bliss, are one in our embraces..

Come...again...

Ground Zero

Nothing left..what was, burnt and melted into glistening shards of history,
Across the blast radius, the EMP (Electrifying Magnetic Personallity) has blown all fuses,
What was the trigger of your love's deteonation will remain a mystery,
But in my life, my love, my soul there is a barren plain, where fission produces
The need to be one, we are a critical mass, chain reaction assured,
One instant of blinding light, of recognition, of heat, the evaporation of juices
All centres primed and ready to implode, the moment your emission is measured;
In that indigo moment, that sunburst second as we fuse into being,
The searing heat that melts all our senses sprays our atoms about the place,
We become love itself, all emotions reached, all corners seeing,
Knowing that irradiation of joy, that scorching smile that plays about your face;
That shock wave reverberation hammers heart against heart, a removal of fences,
A mushroom cloud of vapour, that which was, now blown away,
And in the after glow, the cooling cycle where we return to our senses,
In this world of passion, newly formed, shall there always be a reminder of this day...

Pianissimo

Please,..feel free..
One finger, touch me where you think it will strike a note..
Then trace a line, pure glissando,that makes my heart vibrate,
Or try more fingers and find a chord, each touch to gently float,
And draw forth a symphony of love, from meaningless cacophony to meaningful melody; my state..
Is to be in tune with you, maestro, oh beautiful executant
Find my harmonic, let your touch set each semi and demi quaver free to roam,
Tap out that Orphean melody so clear, a blessed tonal ornament;
So that when amore composes the song, let all our senses sing in concordant grace,
And after the sweetest crescendo, let us dwell in harmonious reverberation,
Glide into softest diminuendo, soft pedal in mode, sustain and then release;
Come back again and again, practise makes perfect, and my keys await,
Oh my dearest symphonist...

Through Dreams..

I am walking by the Nile, in brightest moonlight splashed about,
The scent of Kyphi is so heady in the air..
Oh Anubis take my life this night, if my army suffers a rout,
But let Osiris raise my soul if you should care,
Oh Princess I have led my heart to do battle at your gate,
From Philae onto Edfu's fragrant halls,
And if to die here in your arms is to be my warrior's fate,
Let Jasmin scent anoint me when night falls..

I have this dream occasionally, an Egyptian prince I would be,
Ruling Phebes and Memphis, but alone,
In dire need of consort, you would be the one for me,
I would fight to have you here beside my throne..
And on those nights when Horus, would wink his silver eye
The moon glow would bathe our entwined forms,
The fragrance of Oleander and myrrh, would our senses so ignite,
Would strengthen our rule through coming storms..

But then, one night, in passion's throws, I see not the silver blade
Just those almond eyes that shine with sensual lust,
I was yours to command, between us promises were made..
But still I feel that final, fatal thrust....

I'm awake in an instant, the sweat pouring from my brow
I hear the clock chiming in the hall,
I turn to see you packing, taking all we had, and now
I close my eyes, lean my head against the wall;
Can love transcend the centuries, is this a life I did once live?
Were you the queen of all we did survey?
To this olive skinned maid, half an Empire I did give
Was my love so blind I gave it ALL away?
In my dream I cursed her lands ,by Sekhmet's burning sun,
Yet with my dying eyes I loved her still,
As I would love you now, as you leave the deed is done..
Your words "Good Bye" the knife that would me kill...

A Balcony...from a different angle

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?"
O be still frivolous breast, for my breath she takes!
"'Tis the east, and Juliet is the sun!!"
My Juliet be, and let this day ever run'
"Arise fair sun, and kill the envious moon,"
For all lovers lay in death far too soon..
"Who is already sick and pale with grief"
Let our souls be the bed of what lays beneath,
"That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she!"
And that's how , in my heart, she will always be,
"Be not her maid, since she is envious"
To win my love's hand, I will be more devious
"Her vestal livery is but sick and green"
Whilst my love's shining countenance is the sweetest I've seen!
"For none but fools do wear it, cast it off!"
To my friend, dearest Will, my cap I doff,
"OH it is my lady, Oh it is my love!"
And she shall ever be, by the stars above
To court this shy creature has proved most hard,
Until I borrowed a few words from the Bard!!

Glisten

Salt..such a basic thing that makes skin glow,
When raised by sensual effort,
Drops of dilution, glisten on a surface so primal, to flow
Into rivulets, tracking each with tongue, that export
To all senses, the need to feed, to feel, to taste
To expose the land beheld, each pore reacting;
Not to simply brush away, and not to waste,
To enjoy that emotion of skin, so climacting
Chemicals we are, and will always be, mere compound
Yet if the mix is right, we catalyse the other,
And create an explosion of joy,so intense, so profound
In the entwining embrace of a lover;
Salt...we taste, we sweat, we glow, all in love's name
The mere physics produce the result, and still
We give all to live within the desire,the game,
Is to grace our lives with erotica, and thrill
The one whose focus we gladly concentrate
The one whose form becomes our need, our kick,
Whose curves and swells glisten with sweetest condensate,
Across whose glowing form, our mouths track, and greedily lick...

To Glisten...

The Older Ya Get

The older ya get
The more it's gonna cost
To do the things you did
When you were young

When an old man's in love
He just *thinks* he's in clover
He's not cooking with gas
He's just warming it over

Via the Hidden Brain podcast The Cowboy Philosopher

Watch Out For The Tripwire

These new old times
Are driving me to drink
Upon finding a bottle
Stashed behind the bottles
Of old worries bought
The last time we wanted
To learn how to sip whiskey
While learning to play poker
Pet the Corgis and
Drink gin with the Queen
Or make mousse
With Baileys Irish cream
Vodka to drink Black Russians
Or make jello shots
Tequila for margaritas
I bought an extra bottle
For drowning my sorrows
Or medicine for this nasty virus
Lots of lime and honey
What plans previewed
Soothing a throat
Or drown in my sorrow
Make merry blotto
With this definite disaster
Only it all just sits there
I know I cannot drink
Do not know how to drink
Barely drink at all
So now I am here
Almost three am
Fighting you off again
And chugging Baileys
Straight from the bottle
Not the elegant way I saw it
Instead raw and ravaged
As these dark times
Poes pit
But my pendulum
Walking the tightrope
Without a glass
Or the whipped cream
Baileys is delightful
But you and this world
Are the meanest
Ugliest horror
In all the old and new
But after watching 1917
Dear God
Please hold on wimpy world
We are frightfully figuring whilst
Chugging from the Baileys bottle
There is still an awful plot
Of disquietning disaster
Yet to make do

bk

The sixteenth of march twenty twenty

three oh nine am

Covid Nineteen Dreams

One tries not to think about you
But your name appeared
Out of nowhere
And suddenly I heard you laugh
And missed your voice
It wraps around me
Like cashmere against the cold
Enveloping my senses
Leaving a desire of more
You are a story in itself
You walked through the fire
And came out singed but whole
I should have found a way
To hold on to you
The rest are still here
In one way or another
But you I think I upset most
Regardless of the rest
In all of this uncertainty
I guess
I just wanted to hear
That you are safe and loved
And we are both forgiven

bk

Three thirteen twenty twenty

Twelve twenty six am

what you are

some people
bite the hand that feeds

you poured poison into mine
held it to my mouth

and mauled me
to bits

shredding every part
that bleeds

then,

shedding all decency
insult to injury

you came begging
armed with balm that only burns

you cannot help
what you are

some people
bite the hand that feeds

                    pity them -
                    they know no other ways to eat

Quote

"Women'll thow you further'n gun-powder'll blow you."
--Rural Truck Driver as quoted by poet David Whyte in "The Three Marriages"

Let Bygones Be Bygones

I wish, oh how I wish I could erase
Of when and where, how I fell from your grace
I cried, begged and pleaded at no avail
Let bygones be bygones, but I put you through hell.

My head can’t reason of why I screwed up
No excuses, I can’t justify, you left in a huff
I will do anything to make amends
Let bygones be bygones, but I know this is the end.

A Ghostly Tea With Satie

When the fairies wake me up
On nights they want to play
I brew chamomile tea
Put on Satie
To swing and sway
I try not to worry
Or get lost in shadows
The ghosts here know me
They sit on edges of the bed
Knitting their bones
Never saying much
I know they want to talk about you
But it is useless clatter
I have been traumatized enough
Desensitized
Try spelling that at three am
So they knit and I purl worlds
I mean think of all the adventure
I would have missed
Had I not taken the wilderness road
White rapids with big rocks
To bash ones head at any moment
Oh Darlin is this what I am doing
Still wondering what would have happened
Had I stood still
Living in shadows after midnight
Michael Dulin tinkling the keys
Dancing with your ghost
The knife still hanging out of our heart
Still trying to kill off old lovers in poetry
Backward reality trying to haunt me
Such a cruel woman
I must go back to sleep
Before this booger bear truly gets me

2-20-2020

The second month twentieth day of twenty twenty

bk

Swimming With Sharks After Midnight

Sadly it was all those jabs to the heart
That did you in
I had to freeze you out
Burn that house of love to the ground
Mind over instant why should you matter
So to speak
It was marble boggling madness how to do that
The poems were writing themselves
It was a thrill shot of double barreled Big Bang
Salami Salami Baloney
White bread with yellow mustard yum
Hard to let go of
But yet you knew if you did not
It would give you a heart crack of the worst kind
And oh it did really it did
And you died a watery death
Jumping from that cliff
Into a tide pool of shallow sharks
That had your name tattooed on their fins
Teachers always said I had a wild imagination
Momma was scared I would tell them all about her
So she just said I lied
I am still lying
But not about you
Just dumb shit like sharks with tattoos

monday the seventeenth of february twenty twenty~

bk

i do not want to have you

i do not want to have you
to fill the empty parts of me
i want to be full on my own
i want to be so complete
i could light a whole city
and then
i want to have you
cause the two of us combined
could set it on fire

Your touch

I remember
like yesterday
your touch.

You went by me,
saying: "I have to go to..."
When you went by me
you stroke my long hair
all the way down.

I stood there,
whispering: "Oh, god, Oh god!"
A touch has never
felt that MUCH!

Your Touch...

Your eyes

I remember your eyes.
Every time we met
your eyes sought mine.

I was in a room
full of people.
I felt instantly,
when you came
(You were always late :0).

I felt you
because the air
was vibrating
of you.

The first thing
you did
was looking me up.
You nodded to me,
greeting me.

hallucinate

let me live
in those seconds
between awakening
and awareness

when I don't remember
what I have lost

before the ache begins
and I feel like the target
at the gathering
of archers

before it feels like
all the knife throwers
are practicing
on me

before the storm hits
and I find myself
fighting to breathe
underwater

let me live
in that place
between sleep
and awake

tell myself
we are still ours

black grief

on some days I am brought to my knees
on the white tiles by this black grief

black light spilling on the floor

it slams in like a freight train
swept off-track by a tsunami

I stand in its path, eager, willing

it breaks my bones brutally
meat on the butcher's block

I surrender to the knife, kneeling

it shreds me apart slowly
paper boat in a storm

I cannot swim yet I walk into the sea

I ask myself angrily,
how can someone can cry so much?

I am 60% water, how can I not?

Someone unknown

I don't know you

But I can feel you

I haven't seen your face

But I can feel your grace

Imagining your embrace

In my winter cold place

You've been down and broken

Ever since I walked away

But worry not

Because I've been wondering the same

If we could ever be together again.

If only.

Strange love

I can feel your breathing

so close, so warm

your lips touch mine

your softness makes me weak

you clutch me through your wings

I glide, I slide, I fade away in the gleam of the light

You fill my soul with something I've never felt before

Hands against the wall

Your nails burrow through my bones

Feet up in the air

Pulling my hair

Tightening grip

and hear your swear.

We think of each other

You want to stop
thinking of me,
but you can't.

I don't want to
stop thinking
of You.
But thinking of You
every day
is a bit tooo much.

Why?...

I wish for something.
Just out of my reach.
To almighty God.
I pray and beseech.

Tell me why I'm feeling.
All the things I feel.
Why have you brought me here?
Is this really, real?

Why must you bring to me.
Heaven in disguise?
So much beauty.
To behold with these two eyes.

Only to hold it there.
At my finger tips.
And just give.
Tiny little sips.

Why must you allow me.
To have and to hold?
Something that I can not have?
If I have wait until your fold?

Heaven on earth has come.
And I've have tasted love.
Will we have to wait?
Until we ascend there up above?

Randy Hayes.

ad lib

you said be ready
I wasn't ready for this.

bloodshed

I watch
blood drop
into the water

hypnotised
it opens out
like tendrils

whisper
'my god, my god
what have we done?'

after the loving

the taste of blood
in my mouth
from your mouth

accident scene

slowly becoming an accident

I hold myself
in my hands
slice into me
sweet, sharp
each night
let the dark in
and taste it
in my veins

memory a blade shredding me

YOU Always

I think of YOU
EVERY Day!

It just IS So.

I read something in the net.
It reminds me of You.

I see a wonderful view
over the sea from the bus.
It reminds me of You.

I meet someone,
we discuss.
It reminds me of You.

I see a movie on the TV.
It reminds me of You.

I dream in sleep.
Often of You.

Tell me how
I can stop this?!

Well... I don't know
if I Really want to...

A Game of Strategy

Can we beat the odds
Of this tatical gambit
Move sleekly stealth fully
Selectively playing
Puzzle pieces
Without sidestepping
Identifying danger
Defensive combat
Positioning ourselves
Deliberately delightfully deliciously
At just the right angle
To oh so tenderly
Be kissed
By the most delectable
Pair of lips
Encountered in ages.

November ninth twenty nineteen

BK

You all know I do love kissing poems
And full moons

4 questions

"There are only four questions of value in life, Don Octavio. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for? And what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same: only love."
--Don Juan (in the movie of the same name)

Hopeful

Their eyes talk before they speak
Their souls dance when they first meet
A feeling unknown to both
A love story written, an oath
To cherish and to hold,
Until they're grey and old

This is love and love is great,
Forever together from the first date

Hold my hand and kiss me on the cheek,
Just Like the first time my heart will skip a beat
In sickness and health,
In poverty and wealth
Until death do us apart
You'll be the one in my heart

Happens to the Heart

Leonard Cohen lyrics

"Happens To The Heart"

I was always working steady
But I never called it art
I got my shit together
Meeting Christ and reading Marx
It failed my little fire
But it's bright the dying spark
Go tell the young messiah
What happens to the heart

There's a mist of summer kisses
Where I tried to double-park
The rivalry was vicious
The women were in charge
It was nothing, it was business
But it left an ugly mark
I've come here to revisit
What happens to the heart

I was selling holy trinkets
I was dressing kind of sharp
Had a pussy in the kitchen
And a panther in the yard
In the prison of the gifted
I was friendly with the guards
So I never had to witness
What happens to the heart

I should have seen it coming
After all I knew the chart
Just to look at her was trouble
It was trouble from the start
Sure we played a stunning couple
But I never liked the part
It ain't pretty, it ain't subtle
What happens to the heart

Now the angel's got a fiddle
The devil's got a harp
Every soul is like a minnow
Every mind is like a shark
I've broken every window
But the house, the house is dark
I care but very little
What happens to the heart

Then I studied with this beggar
He was filthy, he was scarred
By the claws of many women
He had failed to disregard
No fable here no lesson
No singing meadowlark
Just a filthy beggar guessing
What happens to the heart

I was always working steady
But I never called it art
It was just some old convention
Like the horse before the cart
I had no trouble betting
On the flood, against the ark
You see, I knew about the ending
What happens to the heart

I was handy with a rifle
My father's .303
I fought for something final
Not the right to disagree




Submit Corrections
Play "Happens To The Heart"
on Amazon Music
Nowness, a partnership between the Leonard Cohen's estate and Sony Music Canada, announced the release of this track on Face

Peripheral Vision

Yes I noticed
those clear blue eyes
tanned skin
the way your hair
fit the nape of your neck
that earthy smell
from digging in soil
solid and sharp
you were delectible
once upon a time
my gypsy soul
would have lept at that chance
but that short lived window
slammed shut
yet left the view
of castle and moat
dragon and fire
with chain mail
wrapped round this heart
but oh yes
I needed you to know
I noticed

September fourth twenty nineteen

3:47 am

loss

tea mixed with regret
spent bullets in the dust
knives sliding across the tongue
blood on metal

the scent of you
in the mornings
after you've spent yourself
on someone else

nothingness
an emptiness too vast to fill
except with every last drop
of your blood

screaming with no sound
a steady drowning
slowly and then all at once
catching fire

the cold ashes
of everyone I've ever loved
perfume sprayed
on the inside of my wrist

a dead body floating on water
buffeted by waves
forever rising
to look at me

to death

the last time
I lost you

I found myself
feverishly saving stories
of how many people
died that day
and how

I would
flip through them
eyes burning
hands trembling
GREEDY
tasting them
with relish
seething envy

reciting their names
lusting after their deaths
almost hating them
for escaping

struck by lightning?
so many! so lucky!
electrocuted?
how sudden, how kind!
road accident?
how ordinary! I'll take it!

insides turned into soup
by fluoride ion?
a slow death, this,
always too late
when you know
you've been exposed

[it was too late
when I knew
I had exposed myself
to loss to come,
to this heavy grief,
when I first set eyes on you]

imagine being
envious of the dead
- damp corpses
rotting in cold graves -

but that was then

Quotes

A film is a petrified fountain of thought.
Jean Cocteau

Your feelings so are important to write down, to capture, and to remember because today you're heartbroken, but tomorrow you'll be in love again." - Taylor Swift

"You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself." - Albert Camus

The curves of your lips rewrite history." - Oscar Wilde

"May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air." - Franz Kafka@writeyourselfalive

Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,
for the eternal idleness of the imagined return,
for rare flutes and bare feet, and the August bedroom of tangled sheets…" - Derek Walcott

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the streets at dawn looking for an angry fix angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of the night.” - Allen Ginsberg

"... the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”
― Jack Kerouac

“Vulnerability is the most accurate measurement of courage.” - Brené Brown

Words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. But black words on a white page are the soul laid bare.” - Guy de Maupassant

“The purpose of art is to turn blood into ink.” - T.S.Eliot

"I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love." - Haruki Murakami

"Life without illusion is a ghastly affair." - Virginia Woolf
Write Yourself Alive

Find what you love and let it kill you." - Charles Bukowski

"He was conscious of nothing except the blankness of the page in front of him, the itching of the skin above his ankle, the blaring of the music, and a slight booziness caused by the gin." - George Orwell

"She writes things with her movements that I for the life of me could never write with a pen." - Christopher Poindexter

Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words..." - Yasunari Kawabata

"Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash." - Leonard Cohen

Butterfly Afternoon

One sunny afternoon
After leaving a mat out to dry
The sun had topped the house
Serious had melted blue sky
I walked out on the porch
When there on display
To find a lovely butterfly
Had come to play
It lit on the soft mat
And then without delay
I found myself chin to chin
Nose to butterfly feet
Thinking it would fly away
I do not know who had the better view
But it told me matter of fact
Honey I am not afraid of you
I have wings to fly
You have only feet with shoes
You are stuck to the ground
With only a limited scene
Do not worry darlin it told me
Of all people I know you are not mean
Come away with me
Into a butterfly dream
We can go play in the gardens
Make the butterfly scene
I said wish I could
Then politely declined
Besides being nose to foot
Whispering with a butterfly
Honestly people will think
I had flipped my twig
Lost my big shade hat
Burnt my candied yams
But no darlings not any of that
Just came out to fetch
My silly blue bath mat
I made kiss kiss noise
Thinking it would frighten it away
But instead it kissed me back
Tipped its wing
Then flew away

The fourth of september twenty nineteen

bk

The quote I heard on you tube about when things were dire and
life was seriously in disarray that was then women created beautiful things.
This struck a chord so deep. It is way pat three am and I am too lazy sleepy tired to
look it up..maybe tomorrow darlinks. Take care of yourselves!

Not seeing you

For some years now
you have blocked me out
of your life.

Well...
I think,
that for you
it has felt,
that I have been
even stalking you.

I never wanted that!
I just want to know
how you are.

I just want You
to be happy!

And if you ever need a FRIEND,
to talk to, to cry to
I'm here...

Mistaken

I was holding on to you for the longest time
I was holding tight thinking you were mine

I was so mistaken
my heart is aching
Dive into my arms
Make me whole again

I was holding on to that thread of hope
I was holding to what I thought was gold

But you were taken,
My faith is shaken,
Love never Harms
Let the games begin

Page Two.

Powerless. That's  I feel lately.
Constantly tired of everything. The smallest interaction with someone requires my fullest form of energy, afterwhich ,I am left exhausted.  I find it too draining to socialise nowadays. Dialogues are so fake, people are too hypocritical  but time will reveal villains and uncover all bad intentions

Page one.

We are all like the stars, we shine bright on the outside,but deep down inside, we are long gone. It's a twinkling graveyard and my dream is buried somewhere there.
They say that women become wiser in their 30's.i beg to differ; I am 35 years young and I am still as clueless as I was in my 20's.
When I try to narrow down the reasons behind my set backs, I would very much like to believe that it is because I am a person of many talents and I refuse to settle for just about anything.  My dreams are like soap bubbles; once I reach a certain level, I end up with a big fat splash. No promotion, no appreciation but rather a slap in the face.
My father once told me that I do not have people skills. I am starting to believe that he was right. I always seem to drift off when people start talking to me, I enjoy my made up scenarios far more than whatever dialogue I am being dragged into.

plaster saint

you would recoil in horror
at the mere thought
of crushing a cockroach
you would not even
kill an ant, no

then you
stabbed me repeatedly
until I had to hold my insides in
with my hands and fight
for air

my body remembers
being your punching bag
your mattress
your safe space
your well

the place from which
you would fill yourself -
and pour it all out
on someone else.

ceasefire

when the men leave
the women try to heal each other
but violence is never far away

at midnight the tree
outside my window
comes alive with fireflies

and then the bats
eat them

warmth

sometimes I order
a fat mug of steaming coffee
just to hold something warm

then I picture your heart
pulsating in my palms
hot blood spilling into cold air

the fire it kindles
keeps me warm for days
let the coffee go cold

what loss tastes like

tea mixed with regret
spent bullets in the dust
knives sliding across the tongue
blood on metal

the scent of you
in the mornings
after you've spent yourself
on someone else

nothingness
an emptiness too vast to fill
except with every last drop
of your blood

screaming with no sound
a steady drowning
slowly and then all at once
catching fire

the cold ashes
of everyone you've ever loved
perfume sprayed
on the inside of your wrist

a dead body floating on water
buffeted by waves
forever rising
to look at you

#twistedTongue

"Missing the Miss you missed."
"The Miss you missed is missing."

Kissing...

In many years
I have been dreaming
of You and me kissing.

In my my dreams
you are always
kissing me first.
Shyly and shoftly.
Then more intensily.

The feel of your lips
went done to my core.

I have often fantazied
of you kissing me.
I kissed my wrist,
imagining it was You.
It felt like You!

UH! I became Soo aroused... :0)

on desire, and the color blue

"We treat desire as a problem to be solved, address what desire is for and focus on that something and how to acquire it rather than on the nature and the sensation of desire, though often it is the distance between us and the object of desire that fills the space in between with the blue of longing. I wonder sometimes whether with a slight adjustment of perspective it could be cherished as a sensation on its own terms, since it is as inherent to the human condition as blue is to distance? If you can look across the distance without wanting to close it up, if you can own your longing in the same way that you own the beauty of that blue that can never be possessed? For something of this longing will, like the blue of distance, only be relocated, not assuaged, by acquisition and arrival, just as the mountains cease to be blue when you arrive among them and the blue instead tints the next beyond. Somewhere in this is the mystery of why tragedies are more beautiful than comedies and why we take a huge pleasure in the sadness of certain songs and stories. Something is always far away."
--Rebecca Solnit, "A Field Guide to Getting Lost" (More on her use of the color blue as the symbol of distance at this article.)

Let me love you

I listened to Karolina Protsenko
playing Let Me Love You.

It made me think of
you and me.
I don't say to you
Let me love you,
because you can't deny me
to love you :0).

Summer

YOU are always connected
to Summer in my mind.

You were the nightingale
in the summernight.
You were my support,
when I was dying.

You were my Summer
in autumns and winters.
The sun and light
in harsh times.

You made me laugh.
You made me shiver
of lust.
You made me feel alive.

The Story of My Life

Since 12th of April
I have been writing
The Story of My Life.

I have come to the year of 2004,
50 pages now.

So many years,
so many memories.
Some bad, some good.

Many, many,
both men and women
have first
become very fond of me.
But then they have all
rejected me.

****
My story contains
a lot of You.
You were Sooo Wonderful
to me.
But then...
You rejected me too.....

Animals

Pending.

on unrequited love

Sweet memory

Still...
After over 20 years
I remember
how you stroke my hair
(on that wonderful cruise).

How can a fleeting touch
feel so much?
Both in my body and my heart.
I stood there trembling,
whispering: "Oh, god! Oh, god!

I still feel it...

My Life's Story

First: "Done" :0) :0) :0). What you write is total rubbish :0).

****
I started to write My Life's Story 12.4.2019. I'm on the year 1985 now (not yet on the years of YOU :0).
VERY hard to write. VERY hard to remember...
So much hard things. So much sorrow. So much anguish. Now...
But I know, that in every part of my life there is also much of joyfull things, beautifull things, happy things. I fill in them later.

What I figured out (while writing) is, that I have allways felt sooo insecure of myself. Of if people like me, think I'm a nice person. I don't know that till this day...

You said to me in 1997: "Du är jätteok som du är." - Nobody had said that to me before. And nobody had said it afterwords.

In 2009 you said: "Du är ok, men..." - So (even) YOU didn't really Like me.

Do YOU understand, that it's REALLY HARD, that everyone like me, thinking I'm Great - at first. But... Then, they start to think I'm bad. And they push me away real hard!

“Done”

I’m not paying attention I’m standing in line at the bank My deposit slip in hand as I reach for a pen Jotting down the date I think has it been 9 years? Nearly a decade ago? I swallow to feel a big lump in my throat I glance thru the window Only to see myself staring back at me 9 years ago—I thought I was “old lady” My lump seems to slide into my chest I thought I was “done” As I stare thru my reflection to the out doors I’m blasted to my past, I feel a shiver up my spine I thought I was “done” It was the best but worst day and night ever Magical, but costly I thought I was “done” I close my eyes, hoping no one notices Notices the tears rolling down my face I thought I was “done” I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand No tissue anywhere when I need one I thought I was “done” I must not go back there I’ve got to remember I’ve come too far Remember? Remember I am “done” I wonder if he remembers our time together? As I remember the laughter, the tenderness, our love? I thought I was “done” My heart still aches as I take another step forward I line My heart still remembers our love as my heart take another step backwards I’m not “done”

from "To Grieve Is to Carry Another Time"

The belief that a loved one has been replaced by an imposter is called Capgras delusion. It was first identified in 1923, when a psychiatric patient claimed her husband and children were “the object of substitutions.”
[...]
One of the most interesting aspects of Capgras delusion is the element of love. Usually it is not a stranger who has been replaced, but a beloved. In the 1990s, psychologist Haydn Ellis and others theorized that Capgras delusion is the result of your mind recognizing a face without feeling the love that you normally associate with that face.
Love is how we know we are in the right time.
--from Matthew Salesses "To Grieve Is to Carry Another Time"

Summernight

Once again I remember this:
My poem 5th June 1997
(Sorry. It's in Swedish):

Näkergalen
sjunger i sommarnatten.
Oändligt ljuva
flyter dess toner
in genom mitt öppna fönster,
in i min öppna själ.
Varför tar det så ont?

My feeling for you
made that poem to come.
That nigt I realized
I love you.
And I still do...

Getting Past The Nuptials

Like the Blender of Love
Lately my heat is on my sleeve
I thought I had kicked
Emotion to the curb
Turned off all the knobs
That could turn on the waterworks
You all know moments
Triggering hot blinding sentiment
Well not me
Until just lately
I know there were some major
Planet movements
But this nonsense is making me mad
Everything is tuning my fork
To an emotional tone
I just do not recognize myself
I know my Son is getting married
Yet they have been together
For ten years almost
Tying the knot or not
This is a grand party to be
And here I am
Maudlin me
Boxing with the tissue
I am going to need a make up artist
Following me around
With a rag and bucket
Mopping up the mascara
What is it with the Mother of the Groom
Their song to dance to
Giving her only child away
This should be sheer joy
One woman at the UPS store told me
Honey as soon as those nuptials
Are all over and the party begins
Is when you will stop crying
Finally somebody understands this
I have a long dress full of sequins
Like crunchy peanut butter
When you prefer smooth
I ordered it online
Did not see the word sequins
Putting on glasses would probably help
And it will be on a farm called Imagine
Out in the middle of a meadow
Imagine heels sinking in tulips
Tripping down the isle in style
So I got some cotton candy shoes
So I can tiptoe through the wildflowers
Dragging my crunchy dress
All the critters will hear me coming
And they keep telling me
That the photographs will be for a lifetime
A lifetime of bad mascara
With wild cotton candy hair
OMG after this I am going onstage
Doing stand up wedding comedy
About this kind of crazy
Between the weather
The stars and all the raw emotion
They are trying to kill me
I have ten days to get my act together
I am either taking up hot goat yoga
Or getting some great pot
To make it through this madness
Maybe some mellow mushrooms
Probably just something to drink
Then some wild dancing will do the trick
You all please do me a favor
Pray that this wild southern mama
Can just make it past the nuptials

bk

the twenty second of april twenty nineteen... seven sixteen pm

Quasimodo At The Meat and Three

We were setting in our favorite booth
B2 At Wendell Smiths
Having our favorite
Turnipgreens and cornbread combo
I was telling you about a political cartoon
I had just seen
Of a firetruck hook and ladder
High atop a burning Notre Dame Cathedral
I started to cry
And then could barely tell you
You were so sweet
Saying it is ok and wiping my tears
I continued to try to describe
It was of a fireman
Pulling Quasimodo from a Gargoyle
To save him from his burning sanctuary
I was laughing and crying for Paris
And what I had always dreamed of seeing
At the same time
I remembered Lon Chaney playing the part
of the bell ringer of Notre Dame Cathedral
And me as a little kid
Being terrified of his poor grotesque soul
Then I realized he was the first monster
I was ever in love with
It was a love and fear thing
Empathy for a devil of sorts
But was he
I asked you to get me the movie
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
You laughed and promised you would
And now thinking and writing this
I was with my son
Yet somehow
You are caught up in this too
But not to worry
I still have no sympathy
Nor empathy for you

bk

Ray Bradbury once said of Chaney, "He was someone who acted out our psyches. He somehow got into the shadows inside our bodies; he was able to nail down some of our secret fears and put them on-screen. The history of Lon Chaney is the history of unrequited loves. He brings that part of you out into the open, because you fear that you are not loved, you fear that you never will be loved, you fear there is some part of you that's grotesque, that the world will turn away from.


the twenty first of april twenty nineteen

Happy Easter Everyone

the heartbreak fairy

from smbc-comics.com/comic/heartbreak:

Dying...

It seems,
that Loveblender
is almosti dying...

But my love
for You
is not.

I still feel,
what I felt
for You
in 1997

More Quotes via "Love and Limerence"

Musical tempo varies, but it does so roughly within the range of the human heartbeat.
--Dorothy Tennov, "Love and Limerence"

Love is a human religion in which another person is believed in.
--Robert Seidenberg

Now by these presents let me assure you that you are not only in my heart, but my veins, this morning. I turn from you half abashed--yet you haunt me, and some look, word or touch thrills through my whole frame--yes, at the very moment when I am labouring to think of something, if not somebody, else. Get ye gone Intruder! though I am forced to add dear--which is a call back--
--Mary Wollstonecraft to William Godwin

The pleasures of love are always in proportion to the fear.
--Stendhal, "On Love"

Oh Love! Thou bane of the most generous souls! Thou doubtful pleasure, and thou certain pain.
--George Granville, Baron Lansdowne

on "Love and Limerence"

I sped through the book "Love + Limerence", where Dorothy Tennov coins the term "limerence" - a bit like infatuation, but a lot more than that.

https://kirk.is/2019/03/03/ - I wrote a medium-long ramble/review about it. I think it's worth reading, but if not, here are the good quotes I mentioned (none actually from the book)

"Amid the chaos of that day, when all I could hear was the thunder of gunshots, and all I could smell was the violence in the air, I look back and am amazed that my thoughts were so clear and true, that three words went through my mind endlessly, repeating themselves like a broken record: you’re so cool, you’re so cool, you’re so cool"
--The Movie "True Romance"

"You're sort of everything I've ever wanted
You're not perfect, but I love you anyhow
You're the woman that I've always dreamed off
Well, not really, but you're good enough for now"
--Weird Al

"In the salt mines, nearing the end of the winter season, the miners will throw a leafless wintry bough into one of the abandoned workings. Two or three months later, through the effects of the waters saturated with salt which soak the bough and then let it dry as they recede, the miners find it covered with a shining deposit of crystals. The tiniest twigs no bigger than a tom-tit’s claw are encrusted with an infinity of little crystals scintillating and dazzling. The original little bough is no longer recognizable; it has become a child’s plaything very pretty to see. When the sun is shining and the air is perfectly dry the miners of Hallein seize the opportunity of offering these diamond-studded boughs to travellers preparing to go down to the mine."
--Stendhal

But love, he said, love was a fragile blossom; love was a delicate crystal; love was an unstable reaction with a half-life of about eight months.
--Joe Haldeman in "The Forever War"

"I think you like that computer more than you like me."
"That's not true, Liz. I do NOT like that computer more than I like you. [Please, please don't ask about the laptop]"
"'That' computer?"
--Dilbert

"I've got to stop getting obsessed with human beings and fall in love with a chair. Chairs have everything human beings have to offer, and less, which is obviously what I need. Less emotional feedback, less warmth, less approval, less patience and less response. The less the merrier. Chairs it is. I must furnish my heart with feelings for furniture."
--Carrie Fisher

"You know, just because I didn't like that ridiculous comedy you did with Goldie Hawn did not mean I did not love you. That's what you always do. You confuse love for admiration."
--The Movie Birdland

Spring - in February?

It's only February,
but day after day
plus degrees.
The snow is melting fast.
Birds are chirpping.
The brich trees
have a violet tone.

I just need Spring now!

And I need You...

Cataclysmic

With his giant
Over inflated
Python like ego
He somehow thinks
That all this poetry
Is about him
When in fact
Even before 2005
After the break down
At a beach wedding on Ohau
It was and has been
Diverted
From life experience
Of myself and the sum of more
Using the same
Trancelike channel
That got me here
To begin with
It has been a
A lovely remembrance
Torture and pain
Therapeutic mind bending
LSD and magic mushroom
Trailblazing
Cataclysmic
Life eclipse of my own sun
Moon and any other planets
In between
My thanks to all of you
Who were there
To participate
What a revolution!

bk

the twelfth of august twenty seventeen

good n plenty n cucumbers

via cracked.com's 30 Fascinating Facts About All That Candy You Love

[ W I N T E R ]

Its snowing.
youre not here.

The last time I saw you,
we were covered in
frozen moans and sighs
Sticking to our skin,
Burning from the cold.
Icy hot breath on the wind
Tell-tale signs of fire and ice
Created by these two
Human beings,
Being human.
The sky is falling,
Bits of lace,
Arctic air accumulating.
The frozen are weak for the heat and I
Was scalding hot.

Steam.

The soul contact felt round the world.
The pleasure epicenter of God.

whore

whenever someone sets out to break me,
their intentions so transparent,
I look to you

an army of beggars, amateurs,
tongues tripping
on stock phrases

"you're so beautiful";
"I want you now";
"I love you"

it takes a halfwit to fall for it,
this parade of hands reaching out
to take, take, take!

hungry mouths spilling out
so much flattery, it stinks in the streets
saccharine sweet

then, unfailingly, the parade of accusations
weak men forever shouting
'WHORE'

they think I care,
they think they burn me,
I, who have felt nothing after you

futile

don't mind me
I'm just waiting
for the world
to stop breaking
all the women
it births

rebirth

reel it all back in,
those feelings you poured into us
these past months

fill yourself up again
with your illusions, leave me empty
of your word vomit

did you think I would beg?
did you think I would weep?
did you think I would even blink?

you do me
a disservice
with these imaginings

I have been buried too many times
to be eviscerated
by one more ending

I will resurrect myself just fine

Tu

Tu, soltanto tu.
Mi Amore...

Hi Kirk and Always You

Hi Kirk!

Is Loveblender closing down?
All the writes, that have been here since years have dissapeared (e.g. BK)). Exceptionally few poems since a couple of months...??

A poem:

Always You

I sent you a text 1-2 years ago:
"Do you remember me?
I remember You very much."
You didn't answer.

I think of You often.
I dream about You
about once a month
(very vivid dreams :0).

****
I have many times damned
(even here)
the fact, that I can't
block you out of my mind,
out of ME!

It just IS Always You...

This is Love Podcast

The This Is Love Podcast from the makers of "Criminal" seems promising.

Afterglow

You block me out

You are a rather known person.
And you still do a lot,
that even the media
is interested in.

But when I put eg.
a Google search on you,
I get VERY few hits.
I think it's because you
block ME out!

Well. About 10 years ago
I was rather terrible.
I almost harrassed you.
I AM Sorry about that!

But You continued
to write to me here...

You

It seems even strange,
that I dream often of you.
Lovely dreams of you and me
beeing together.

Sometimes we are
as we are now:
You 66, I 70.
The passion is still there.
The teasing, the tenderness.

****
Oh. That reminds me of
that you loved to tease me.
Eg. your joke with the date
on your email 1997 :D.
****

Sometimes you and I
are as we were 20 years ago.
And the other people,
that were around us then
are in the dream too.

I love to dream about You in my sleep!

growing up

when I grew up
my mother hand-stitched me
a dress like a dream
layers upon layers
of silk and net
gold and white and cream

my stepfather
kissed me hard on the lips
and moved his tongue roughly
and insistently
inside my mouth
saying I was grown up now
this was his gift

men who came later
threatened to kill him
gnashed their teeth and
clenched their fists -
yet wanted the same
and more.

Vibrations

I could feel
(without seeing you),
when you came into the room.
The air was vibrating.

Your eyes met mine,
and my heart
was vibrating.

Remember and feel

I remember my first love.
But I don't feel the feelings
I had with him.

I remember other men
I have had in my life.
But I don't feel the feelings
I had with them.

I remember the man
I was married to.
But I don't feel the feelings
I had with him.

It's 21 years since
I saw you.
But I feel all the feelings
I had with you.

Don't Tell Him

Don't tell him I think about him as much as I do
He might get the wrong impression
Don't tell him he makes me smile
Or his scent is my obsession.

Don't tell him I'm smitten
It's just a crush
Don't tell him from afar, my heart swells a little
It's too much.

Don't tell him I find him unbearably attractive
He already knows he's handsome
Don't tell him he's kidnapped my heart
He'll hold it for ransom.

Don't tell him I like to kiss (a lot)
He'll attempt to make me swoon
Don't tell him I’m catching feelings
It's too soon.

Don't tell him you think we make a cute couple
Because we do.
Don't tell him I dreamed about us already
He'll think I'm crazy, too


~ Just L (October 18, 2018)

firefly

I killed a firefly

it kept shining, glowing
burning
        bioluminescent

still emitting light
        long after it died

it left a trail
green gold

        brilliant
        steadfast drops

burned my eyes
poor baby firefly

you taught me
how it feels

        to hold light.

desire

Love is a game,
I gave you my heart,
You said those words and it felt like art
Lost in a feeling, cant see in the dark,
Where does love end and where does hate start?

You keep me safe from the storm,
Your arms oh they feel like my home,
Oh baby, that's where I belong,
Why has it been so long for you to finally come along?

Higher the flame,
I cast a spell to never part.
Forever and more, I am yours ;sweetheart.
Crossed the deep end ,I was left bruised with marks,
An angel ,a Godsend, fighting demons, I had to restart.

I love you, I love you, I love you, it's beyond me
Demons around me are fighting but you cannot see
You'll always be the one ,you'll always be the one, that set my heart on fire,
Love and lust, I was lost to desire, a soul caged in barbed wire,
I burn into ashes,darling, never believe a liar.

Love is a game,
You gave me your heart,
my demons got louder, we fell apart,
I lost my way, I could not see in the dark,
Where does hate end and where does love start?

C’est si bon si bon

I am so old
I remember
Too much...stuff
Silly cream puff
The good news
Is that I cut it off
Quite a while back
Yet somehow
It keeps up to snuff
Flip following me
Like a black cat
Shadowing me
In and out
Over and about
Hear me loud
You sneaky shroud
Stop your ghasttly ways
Such tricky horseplay
Neigh neigh
Get off your nasty dark cloud
Quit haunting my house
What is your spiel
Do you not you think
It is so time to get real

bk

the thirtieth day of september twenty eighteen

Sad Brew

If love were truly real
Why are people still
Chasing their own tails
Like flea bitten
Gerbils on a wheel
Why cant they just run true

bk

the thirtieth of september twenty eighteen

My Favorite Color is Teal

I more than gave you
Chances to talk
Oh you know
Shoot the breeze
Find out whether
There is anything
To say at all
The test at best
Has put you in peril
Yet I am curious still
Of how you might taste
After roasting on my grill

bk

the 30th of september twenty eighteen

Second Guess

Music will keep us from madness
Imagination and jazz
To kill the political pain
Rock to put on your daily socks
With dance to chase these blues away
Add some love
And you all know the rest
Cheek to cheek....slow down...PROTEST

bk

the thirtieth of september twenty eighteen

Breathe, Kiss, Quave

Staring into your deep, dark eyes, I'm distracted by your full lips.

Your mouth I want.

Your taste I crave.

Magnetic attraction closes the distance between our hips.

Tongues in agreement.

Breathe, kiss, quave.

~Just L (May 5, 2018)

It All Makes Sense

Sight
Downy fine hair on my shoulders
The indented crease down your spine
Crooked pinky finger I smashed in a door
How your face twists when you say "It's fine."

Sound
I live and breathe with words
However clever, dating by text fizzles
The sound of your climax I imagine
Your voice's intonation sizzles

Smell
Our nose runs when we're aroused
The secret of true love, olfaction
Your scent renders me tongue tied
The delicious chemistry of attraction

Taste
Your full mouth on mine
And light bites I do savor
You crave my sweet juice
Our love has a discerning flavor

Touch
Your spine tingling finger tips
Create deep and profound memories
Our sensual connection palpable
How do we release this intensity?

Sense
Each feels the same as the other
Reconnected with our soul's essence
Sharing a similar energy
We awaken each other's purpose

Timing is everything
And, mysterious.

~Just L (May 11, 2018)

How do you wish to be kissed?

If you know anything about me. You know I have an affinity for kissing poetry. What better way to do research than to sample a few? I announced my intention, and they lined up on cue. The first bit and was too aggressive. The second had the softest lips. Next was the darting tongue. No one wants to be kissed like a fish! As the fourth pressed in I placed my fingers on his mouth, and guided, "Like this." The first wanted to try again. Yet, again, he missed. The fifth in line promised me a very good time. His breath reeked of turpentine, and I politely declined. Feeling discouraged I smooched six and seven. They were pleasant, falling short of heaven. Eight smelled great. Chapped lips no bueno. Nine eagerly stepped up to give it a go. I don't know what that was, but um, no! Ten appeared promising, eyes twinkling. Gently touching my maw, breathing me in. I felt woozy, tongue-tied and frozen. And as I was about to declare it a win, you I saw. You had not been in the running at all. You approached me, then stalled. I studied your face with anticipation. "You're doing it all wrong," you insisted. A little put off, I resisted. You came in closer purposely crowding my space. Your right hand rose to caress my face. Simultaneously, my curiosity piqued and feeling pissed. Upper lip resting on my Cupid's bow, you whisper breathily, "How do you wish to be kissed?"

[Your response here]

~Just L (May 12, 2018)

The Poetry Between Us

I appreciate you each new day. You are simple, natural, waking up still sleepy. You are my sweet dream in your own way. I had this epiphany. I adore the lilt in your voice. It is finer than a symphony.I find sleeping in tangled sheets deeply affects my ability to entwine our bare feet.
And, soothing my weary soul with your touch quickens my heartbeat. With you, I feel safe, whole. When we share a beach fire over aged spirits in a bottle, and you kiss me plainly on the mouth stokes my desire. No doubt, I am committed to you. Your strong values I admire. You are in word and actions true. I love you more and more. When you say I love you, too, my heart is entirely yours. In this, we really have no choice. Together, our depths soar. Let’s simply rejoice.

~Just L (May 21, 2018)

Lost in You

Is that your skin
Warm against mine
Are we melting together
Or am I heating you up?

Are my eyes open or shut
Am I dreaming awake
Are you inside of me
Or am I lost in you?

~Just L (May 24, 2018)

Awash in a Wave

After hours upon hours of skin on skin, I am awash in a wave of orgasm. Letting the sea carry me away. Finally, getting a handle on this letting go thing. Perhaps it is the fullness of the gift offered in our shared bed. Or lack of sleep after a late night with the band. Either way no matter how we move you always find my hand. Pulling me to safety only to float away again. By dawn, my brain is neither awake nor asleep. Though love fills my heart, sweat and humidity force us to separate. Except for your measured breath, you barely make a sound, exploring treasures in the deep. Pushing your thigh, pelvis, and abdomen to greet mine I scream with delight on the inside. Rising up only to subside. And, as quickly as it comes, it goes out with the tide.

~Just L (May 26, 2018)

The Goddess and Her Lover

See the slithering of the lover,
I think he's angry at another.

He finds it hard to see the brie,
Overshadowed by the wine flowing free.

Who is that swimming near the shore?
I think she'd like to eat s'mores.

She is but a superior goddess,
Admired as she sits among the novice.

Her intelligent car is just a honey,
It needs no gas, it runs on smart money.

She's not alone she brings lemon balm,
a pet lion, and lots of aplomb.

The lion likes to chase the empress,
Especially when she's dressed to impress.

The lover shudders at the pretty lady,
He wants to understand her philosophy.

~Just L (September 10, 2018)

An Angel Beckons

I received a note anonymously;
Urging me to open my heart;
Trust the divine warrior who leads the heavenly army;
Who could this be?

The words were written with sincerity;
Though the name was withheld,
Its uniqueness touched me deeply.

He was to meet me where mountains meet the sea;
"How will I recognize you?" I thought.
Yet anticipating, he penned,
"You will know me."

With views of the cliffs, I was planted below in the lea;
At last he emerged from the sun's glare;
I strained impatiently.

Then as if in a dream I saw his energy;
The outline of a shadowed form,
Surrounded by a pink angelic light;
I recognized his stride immediately.

The colors of love, peace and harmony;
Literally, "he who seeks God“ --
Archangel Chamuel was on a mission to find me.

Excited my spirit jumped with glee;
"Yesss, I know you!"
"You love me."

~Just L (September 15, 2018)

I Made A Man Coffee This Morning

I made a man coffee this morning;
Something in that comforting.

Watched him drink it over conversation
Much to my elation.

It's been awhile since I started my day
In this simple ritualistic way.

It’s how I envisioned my life
Once upon a time.

Sharing over a cup of joe
Being intimately in the know.

I made a man coffee this morning;
Something in that comforting.

~Just L (September 23, 2018)

I Want A Man (not you)

I want a man who without a doubt --

LOVES me
DESIRES me sexually
is emotionally PRESENT
and WANTS me in his life.

You are no longer that man who --

CARES for me
makes me SMILE
I am my BEST with
and I want out.

~Just L (September 26, 2018)

Deceived

Those eyes so soft and kind
Reflect a different set of mind

Once enticing your kitten
By all accounts I was smitten

A hundred yard stare replaced
The smiling crinkles of a happy face

Among crocodiles you're swimming
In a sea of love drowning

Unattainable your heart's desire
When integrity hangs by a wire

I watch the full moon relieved
You are the only one deceived.

~Just L (September 26, 2018)

Lovescam

I was attacked by a freud with lovesacm. I have gotten at least 30 contacts during the last year in Facebook by men, beeing: 1. Good looking., 2. My age., 3. Working in the military., 4. divorced or widows. I was fooled by one, because he had a Finnish name, Jari Virtanen. He started imediatelly to send me messages. I started to be suspicious very soon, because he said that he had moved to Sweden, when he was 3 years old, but his Sweedish was very lousy. He seemed very nice, so I continued anyway.
After a month he started to declare his love for me. I asked him not to, but he didn't respect that. He got worse: "I love you more today, than yesterday. And I love you more tomorrow, than today." - I ended it all.
A bit later I realized, that he was just one of these freuds, that try to get money from women (surprisingly there wasn't talk about getting money from me yet between "Jari" and me).

I don't believe, that you can Really love a person you haven't even met face-to-face!

****

I had met you 5 times,
and read your 400 pages book
about yourself,
and we had sent a lot
of emails to each other,
before I realized
I was in love with you.