January 16, 2010

Recalling

i sit in my quietness

recalling

the things i meant to do

& remembering

the things i did, but don’t matter.

i shoulder the past,

wearing it like a patched-up jacket

to remind myself that life is passing.

01.16.2010

January 16, 2010

sit beside me-

where we can listen to our breathing;

will it synchronize

until we share air

and become one

in a sense?

when you take my hand in yours

do you feel me

like I think I feel you?

will our lives wrap around each other

in a way that makes them indistinguishable;

will it make us more?

is this the way you feel when you are next to me,

when you say you understand me

when you look into my eyes & don’t flinch?

01.15.10

October 25, 2009

October 23, 2009

Field of Gold

Lead me to a place where joy

runs full free and unfettered,

where you unfold and we unite;

where time meets eternity,

suspends and turns in.

Allow me to illustrate all the little things

& how they lead me back to you;

the curve of your back,

the bow of your lips,

the softness you yield.

Our dance steps here, there, and back again;

you me you me you me you us

body to body, swaying together;

we spiral through a field of gold.

10.23.09

October 2, 2009

My Love Life

Combat boot treads digging into bare buttocks,

Cold eyelets tickling the flesh.

A moan.  A sigh.  A whimper.

Leather straps wound around each wrist;

Laughter echoing off stone walls.

A scream.  A plea.  A stifled sob.

Handcuffs, lined with black fur, dangling from a belt;

Hairy legs buildling up friction – burn.

A guttural growl.  A silent ‘shit!’  A half-heard humming.

Barbs ripping through linen shirts,

Buried in unblemished skin.

A moan.  A plea.  A half-heard humming.

09.14.1993

.-.-.

Heels digging into buttocks,

Cold leather caressing flesh;

You moan, I  sigh, we each whimper.

Leather wound around wrists,

Whips echoing off stone walls;

You scream.  I plea. We both stifle sobs.

Hoists hanging from above,

bodies bent over:

Your guttural growl- my quiet ’shit’  -our half-heard hummings.

Barbs buried in bare skin

Rip through linen shirts;

A moan.  A plea.  A half-heard humming.

Revised 10.02.09

September 9, 2009

Passionist

I am a Passionist

  living in moments of splendor

  rich with texture-

  sights, sounds, & touch.

I am biting into life,

  for a taste of something new

  and dream of swallowing it whole.

03.11.2004

.

A Passionist, I live

among moments of sparkling splendor

textured with the interwoven richness

of sights & sounds;

I bite into life,

suckling the sweetness

of something new

& consider swallowing it whole.

Revised 09.09.2009

July 20, 2009

untitled

I’ve warned you of these moments

when I will be me more than when I say I will be.

and still, you don’t listen.

caught, i am:

between the here and the now-

somewhere between the

beyond & the recogning, beyond

the seductive space

you & I dwell,

& I wonder if you

can fill my longing,

my cravings.

-07.20.09

.-.-.

I’ve warned you:

there will be moments when I will be me more

than what I say I should be

Still, you don’t listen

& i’m caught

between the here and the now-

somewhere between the before and the behind,

outside this seductive space

you & I dwell

And I wonder if this is enough

to fulfill my longing,

my cravings.

Revised 08.29.09

July 20, 2009

These are the days-

When you are beyond moments of fire,

of thinking you will one day be-

this is the now:

of the days of water & fire & earth & wind;

when you prove to yourself what could have,

could have been; what will be.

Let this serve you well:

time passes & leaves us all

caught within

the choices we make and don’t make.

These are the days of our lives/deaths/

rebirths.

-07.20.09

.-.-.

When we move beyond these unbalanced moments

of thinking of what may be

we reach this here now

these days of fire, water, wind, & earth

when what could have been

is left for what will be.

Time passes

& leaves us all caught

within the choices

we make and do not make.

Here we live, die and are reborn. 

Revised 08.28.09

June 26, 2009

In Time

When you call in those minutes of missing me

are you remembering the time of the two of us together

or the moments where we were one but apart?

Are we sinking entwined or drifting alone

and the time to end this has come and passed us by

without either of us noticing?

- 06.26.09

June 13, 2009

Intruding

private mine me now

hidden and buried

I’m layered beneath

him her everyone

yet you are outside

all of this, beyond

the touch of my smile

still you steal inside

past all defences

to sit beside me

and ask the questions

the others aren’t wont

to broach and call me out

on what I hide

knowing I cannot

lie to you.

06.13.09

.-.

private-mine-me:

now, hidden & buried,

I’m layered beneath

him her everyone,

but you’re outside-

beyond the touch of my smile;

you steal inside

past all defences

& sit beside me

asking questions others won’t broach,

you call me out

on what I hide

knowing I cannot

lie to you.

- Revised 01.10.10