To turn your head is so
Out of the realm of my reality
Knowing this, I'll take it, willingly
As I share stories and you inhale
Willingly
You are a mystery, my favorite genre
You pass without turning your head
I watch and admire
The time apart is fruitful
I think of a peach, it's sweet smell
Soft against my cheek, I hold with reverence
Just one taste would be enough but always room for more
You turned my head
With kind gestures, distracted me
From scary monsters ready to pounce
My guard, trespassed, welcomely
I offered a seat
On an ancient couch touched by only 2 others
Make love to me
With your mind
To see what I see
Or, try something new and
Take my vision, with kind hands and heart
Make love to me
With your mind
Take me to a place with
No conflict or physical restrictions
To be as one, behind open eyes and heart
Gentle me
When times are tough, toughening
Me
I lay before you
Trusting our meeting of minds
Brings pleasures beyond anything physical
When I share my story
You read every word
And judgments are shed
While bodies warm a cool bed
Gentle me, make love to me, soften me, with your mind
The picture was sent to me
To hurt
But, it doesn't hurt me
I c*ck my head and examine it
As a cat would examine a bug, crawling
I read things written to me
To hurt
But it doesn't hurt me anymore
I don't examine them
I look through them as if they are made of water
I remember being a part
Of one
The other half to a whole
A line with no end
Drawn by two hands, hands that are now empty
I hold the keys to my home
Doors locked, unless
I like to keep to myself, unless
I like to stand alone, unless
The good outweighs the fear of exposure
I know my time may be short in this game
Unless I am a valuable player
Most valuable player?
I was never good at sports
I'm glad this isn't a sport
The game is one on one
So far
A fencing match?
A boxing match?
Why can't it be
Cross country riding under sunny skies?
I imagine the rush
Leaping rails and hedges
Powerful energy pushing and pressing
Reaching heights
Higher than I ever imagined
To soar like a hawk
Wings stretched to touch clouds
Breathless
While things below grow smaller
And what makes as soar grows larger
Riding the emotions of someone new, heaven
I know this will pass
As scenery passes with every beat
Of wings, spread
Touching moon and sun
A climax of thunder and rain, flooding earth
From a deep sleep, in a womb
Of insulation
The chill touches my nose
As if the wood burning stove is starving
For fuel, to keep things cozy
I place a few logs on
Now, staring at the flames
Hypnotic, inducing a trance
Watching figures dance
A warmth contained in an iron box
I am awake now
Cheeks gathering color
Warm pinks, blood flowing
Watching flames, too close
Absorbing heat from dancers, beckoning
I should sleep
But, the flames have arms
Reaching
Telling stories on silent nights
I listen to their soft songs, eyes glowing
I slept with my name tag on
So I knew who I was when I
Woke up
Funny, since I've been sleep walking
Sleep dressing and sleep eating
I wear my name tag so
People know what to call me
Keeps things civil
My own label
Vintage 1964, aged in a wooden barrel
I have a collection of
Name tags
Kept in a safe place
Like some collect corks from
Favorite bottles, shared with friends, toasting
I have a name tag
So I can't forget who I am
While I sleep walk, sleep eat
Waking only when
My name is called, by tender voice, rousing.
I had a telemarketer job a few years back. The business owner had obtained a call list for consumers who purchased high-end dolls. These dolls were made of the finest latex and were hand painted with features desirable by the worldly man. Every eyelash was placed with precision. The pores of the doll secreted the fragrance selected by the male who placed the order. Her every feature and nuance was the compilation of a detailed order form.
Back to my position. I was responsible for selling the lube cartridges for such dolls. As you can imagine, it wasn't an easy sell. I had to know my product up and down, sideways and under, to be sure! I had to inform the potential customer of the ease of application into the an*l cavity without the trauma of a leaky cartridge. We all have experience the leaky cartridge, not pleasant. So, I became adept at selling the fine qualities of such a refurbished cartridge. The commission was good. I received much positive feedback on the performance of our lube cartridges. In time, the cartridges sold themselves, with growing notoriety and consumer reviews. Unfortunately, the Chinese whispers spread the news and I was out of a job.
The life of the solitary/hermit type. I go to work. I greet people with a genuine interest in how they are. I find a common element and talk about it. It could be the weather, children or a geographic location. I make them feel comfortable and "normal". I am a hermit who works customer service. I like to banter for a limited time. I know people and I enjoy the brief interaction. I don't bank on the interaction. I don't take phone numbers or set dates. Like chocolate, too much human is too much. I limit my sweets to keep it healthy.
When I am home, I cuddle my dogs and find a documentary. I love watching things that give me insight on the human dynamics. I make a meal for one and read. I don't feel lonely. The prospect of meeting and sharing time with another person is a bit scary. I like my time. It doesn't cost anything and it is also valuable.
I care if someone is hurting but I know there is little I can do. I care if a person is struggling but there is little I can do. the best I can do is be consistent and supportive in the mental sense. Financial and otherwise is not possible. A hermit/solitary person has good advice. We are aware of our surroundings. Being solitary or a hermit doesn't make us anti-human. We may only be antisocial because to be social is an emotional overload.
although i need to spend more time alone and can't handle social activities, i have to say with passion, i love people. all kinds of people. how rich our lives are with people, the more different the better. it's like tasting something new. there are flavors not tasted before. for all of the eccentricities and moods, i love it all. i truly enjoy the thoughts of others even if i may not agree. bliss is the hearing of another's thoughts.
Moving out, towards the sun
Long shadow stretches behind us
As my heels swing in stirrups
Gentle tugs on hands
Keeping time with four beats
The sage's perfume colors the air
And the leafy branches tempt
A busy mouth
One ear forward one ear back
She listens to me and watches ahead
The leather squeaks
While her shoulders move
And she nods in agreement
While snorting softly
We are unity in the mountains
We stop to watch the deer
She shifts and sees what I see
The sun rises on her coat
Together, we have become one
A single beast with a long shadow streaming
i always liked that movie. "if you build it, they will come". i use that line for everything so, for Oldeguy, "if you write it, they will come"...
freehand Blog (31)