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You ever noticed that when you say that something or someone is upset, you can also say that something is pissed off?

Well, when you say that your stomach is not feeling well, you would say that your stomach is upset. You never say that your stomach is pissed off.

Well except for me of course See, there is a difference. Your stomach has different ways of hurting, like when you need to vomit, or when you have done too many sit-ups, or mainly, when you are HUNGRY!!

See, when I feel nauseated, I would say that my stomach is upset, just like anybody else would say, but when I'm HUNGRY, watch out!!!! Because my stomach is pissed off.

It's coming to get you. If I was poor, that's exactly how I would say it, "Man, we don't have any money, can't buy any food, yet along eat any breakfast. Just pissing my stomach all off man!"

and it has been a long time since that has happened. I actually wrote to someone that their 'youthful arrogance is boring'. And it was. I am usually more polite but after a surfeit of labels tossed around the threads and comments over the last few days and then faced with utter, frothing-at-the-mouth nonsense in my mailbox I tossed a label myself, totally allowed my anger to reach out instead of sitting with it. It's always been a mistake to tell me what I feel and what I am thinking...there is only one authority on me and if you don't live in my skin talk about what YOU feel and think. Or ASK me what I think. Arrogance indeed.

Further, I don't care how valid a point you may be making there is never any reason to insult other posters. Especially when your premise is off topic as well. By all means say what burns in you to be said but stop trying to make apples into oranges while you are doing it; start a thread and keep negative personal remarks for email. My opinion.

Just watched Notes on a Scandal, Judi Dench & Cate Blanchett. Heartwrenchingly lonely people who are incredibly flawed. Great performances, not a great movie. Got something frothy and silly lined up for the second feature and then to sleep, perchance to dream of pillow fights. Or Hugh Jackman.

To all those single ladies out there that get approached by a stranger who you find is open,honest,handsome charming and has a great sense of humor and is interested in you give that person a chance because you never know how things might turn out but of course use caution until you find out what that person is really like.

Couldn't believe what I saw on the drive home yesterday. As I stopped to pick up some groceries, I got out of my car, and lo and behold there stood a woman actually dressed like a woman should be dressed.....long hair, skirt, nylons, and pumps. So that kind of woman does exist. What a shock to the system.

A guy like me.

A guy like me so far away
And yet close enough
To be hurt once again

A guy like me is awesome
In many ways
A super dad of 2
A big fan of Winnie Pooh

A guy like me will make you cry
You just don’t seem to understand
SO why even try


A guy like me, wears a heart of gold
Not in chest but on sleeve
For all to see
And some to enjoy
But remember I am a man
And not your toy.

Days keep on passing or so it seems. I wake, I sleep, I wake again to another dawn, another day numbered and named so I can know when I am...as if I didn't know time is an illusion, illustration in a children's story book to keep us from the bigger questions. There are questions, are there not? I have a skin with nerves that seek to know the texture and the temperature of all things, I have eyes that blink and squeeze light - what is light?- into shapes that fit to words I know or knew or am related to. Ah so weary now - what is weary?- a buzzing behind my head, inside my head, perhaps a sneeze echoing through empty chambers in the bone, perhaps the subtle push of some invader trailing rude fingers through the private paths of my being. Maybe just a nightmare. One of us is real. I just wish I was sure it is me.

I turn my eyes skyward and behold a curtain of purple, red, orange, and yellow as it descends upon me.

The wind blows slightly, rustling my hair.

The purfumes of the day give way to the scents of the night.

The birds sing farewell while the insects welcome a new beginning to life.

My skin pricks at the soft kiss of your light, my eyes behold the sweetness of your beauty.

In the distance I hear the rustle of leaves, as if the trees are bidding you "welcome" and thanking the day for it's warmth.

You are the doorway. Retreating into you is the bustle of day. From you comes the passion of the night.

Let your glory stay with me throughout the darkness, and entwine me with the caress of your love .

Lead me to joy, and direct my soul to the sweet nectar of romance that only you can release!

When is it too much……



Life, love, peace, chaos, hatred, strife….


These six appose each other.. dynamic, opposite, different…


One pulls on the other, yet one cannot be without the other…


The night draws closer. The curtain closes.
The day has ended, the dusk is upon me.
Gone is the glory of light and hope…
Stretched thin as air.. waiting to collapse upon myself.
My soul pains, my heart yearns.
This depth of despair,
This cry of pain,
This life with no hope,
This lack of peace.


Tears and loneliness are my companions.
A river I have cried,
Yet the dam is still full.
The emptiness that surrounds me,
The meaningless of one more day.


The birds sing to none,
The insects search alone.
The wind blows through the boroughs,
The echoes of ages resonate through my heart.


I yearn to love, to rest, to lay in peace.
Your bosom,
Your caress,
The rhythmic beating of your heart,
The steady rise and fall of your chest as you draw in your breath.


Hold me one last night.
Caress my hair.
Tell me one last time, how
It will be alright, how
The pain will disperse, how
You love me, how
You miss me, how

You yearn for my touch,
My caress,
My bosom,
The steady beating of my heart,
The steady rise and fall of my chest as I draw in my breath.

somebody's soul. Far more people read and browse the forums than ever comment. I can include my self among the number of those who circle above, reading over the shoulders of others, without a word, without a breath. Why do we hover, unconnecting? I can only speak for myself...I read threads I would never post to because the subject matter is incendiary and will lead to insults, humans being as they are.

I have not come here for the small viciousness of "I must be right" minds, nor do I believe that name calling and virtual mudslinging will solve any of the world's problems...although perhaps a soul is watching and will see how limited a view is and so will look inward to see where boundaries have been built that are not needed, that colour interactions with others. Occasionally I take a brief plunge into a pool I know will scald me, because I am responsible for the well being of others and must stand and be counted no matter what the cost might be.

Daily I take a deep breath and expose a glimpse of my innermost self to the world because until we know each other we will fear each other and fear is tied as close to hate as flesh to blood; and although I am irrelevant, a word scattered here or there, a thought, a concept may need to be seen. After my separation and divorce I had to file for bankruptcy and I spoke about it once in detail in a public forum (not on line) and two years later a woman I did not know stopped me on the street and thanked me, said my story had shown her a path to follow that had healed something. I had not spoken for her, I spoke my little truth, my experience, to own it, claim it make it part of who I am, and yet by bearing witness to the truths I live I shoulder my responsibility to my fellows and share the only thing I own.

unless I tell you,
you won't know
my skin lies
and doesn't show
the dark side
of my heritage.

And who gives a flying f*** anyway? When I was an idealistic teenager I was hell bent on righting wrongs and redressing balances. Apartheid was in full bloom then and my youthful ambition was to go to South Africa, infiltrate the white SA society and marry one of the elite, get pregnant as quickly as possible and then hold a global press conference announcing the full range of my ethnic diversity...well I was very young and thought it would be a lovely sock in the eye for those who chose discrimination.

I have been reviled (and threatened) for being "too white" and also for being "too black". Truth is I never noticed my, or anybody else's, colour until someone with racist issues pointed it out to me. They had to have issues...they were the one who saw in "colour". I am very lucky, I keep forgetting that I am anything other than a soul getting along as best it can. Of course there are plenty in the world eager to remind me and wave the flags of irrelevant details in my face. And every now and then I feel a need to hold up a mirror - that younger self still lives and burns with a warrior spirit, she would die for the disenfranchised and I hope I have the courage to live and die her dream if it ever becomes necessary...