A thread through the flower
on a cold winter day
down by the water
stringing this love lost
(deep in your eyes)
I was thirsty and so
I went there
Mary make me weep
I lost Him
The poison and the nectar. I’m so lonely. You will only look for Her in body parts -you will never hear Her voice singing your name because you settle for so little to be sure that no one can ever love you. Anger mistaken for sexuality (like I said last
time in the blog you never actually read) -is the enemy of your heart. The Dick is not your body part. It is a state of white light consciousness.
Where are all the poets and deep thinkers?
Nobody ever called me out. You never even opened your mouth. Using my past against me
and trying to make me feel bad about myself for
“being a stripper” – once a stripper- you say?
You’re going to “pummel my sex organ” what is
wrong with this perversion of an open window?
What is wrong -is that your heart is black and the fire went out. Instead of letting it burn in divine yearning for Her beloved smile- you vow to bend Her over in a red haze of male sex organs- what a gang rape?
I do this for you for free-and open my heart and you sexually assault me and say I asked for it?
I think I’ve exposed a deep issue here that has poisoned this planet for long enough. Just because you can’t control Her or make Her love you or -get off on Her on command- doesn’t mean you need to get violent and stoop so low as to degrade the very source of your life.
You said you called Her the other day and She was so happy to hear you that it made you cry…
What happened to Him?
The love too raw? The uncertainty too real?
She didn’t have to love you or nurse you or make daddy come back home. But you need to see that- that relationship forged the bond you don’t have with the feminine principle.
She who brings flowers and moonlight.
She who strokes your hair and wipes away your tears.
She who never left you and still waits for your little hand.
She isn’t a person and when you try to slay or conquer or control or dominate Her or make Her feel ugly or bad or fat or old- you’re only suffocating your own beauty. You’re only assuring that you will never be with Her at all.
Not because She isn’t there but because you don’t see Her. She needs to be seen. Beyond asses and pretty faces lies your salvation. Not in Her sex organs but in the ecstasy of death promised in Her eyes.
Promised in the light you can never take or fuck out of Her.
You can’t stop Her from shining. You can’t take Her purity. You can’t stop Her from loving you.
The saddest part is there seems to be no “you” to love.
-You snuff out You-
in the worst possible way.
You can’t write me poems unless you’re drunk because you’re sexuality is blocked by anger and the intoxicant relieves you for just awhile- long enough to feel Her flowing through you in words describing who you really are…and the alcohol fades and you’re back in your straight jacket headed to an AA meeting – does that make sense to you?
(It’s not working my sweet boy)
I let you talk to me in the way that you do -and I engage your mediocrity- because I know nobody else will. You don’t have a chance of working this out without me. I know you don’t mean it. I know you actually love me. Maybe others don’t see and they criticize me for letting you come around-
but I see you and I always did..
(You need to have more respect and appreciation for this to work out though)
I know if I knocked on your door right now you wouldn’t even answer. You can’t fuck me because you can’t even fuck yourself yet -get it?
You can’t look into your own eyes yet.
You’re terrified of me and and that’s why you started shaking when I said “what are you doing down here? Do you need something?”
You can’t be with me because you can’t be with you.
So then you go out to your car and email me perverted assaults reducing me to “long legs and white teeth?”
Is that really the best you can do sweet boy?
Because I see so much more in you than you see in yourself. “Kudos” to the guy who “called me out” out of what? Your fantasy?
There are plenty of pornography sites you can go to. But my love is as ancient as the stars and
way deeper than what you’re aspiring to mount.
The temples of India are covered with carvings
of Him and Her in various lovemaking positions.
What does that mean to you?
Is there anyone there at all who can see the fire I’ve started? I guess the better question is, does anyone even care?
Theses tantric positions are internal states of awareness-sex isn’t ugly or violent. Love doesn’t have victims and insults. True lovemaking happens in the stars and not the bodies. Heavenly bodies merge into the Mother Light and a child is always born.
The child is Christ and He sits in your murky heart waiting for you
to stop masturbating and find a real friend.
Because the problem is you don’t know what you’re missing because you’ve never had it and
believe me Her ass will simply disappear and only Her eyes will remain.
Her eyes that look right through you.
You don’t want Her to look there, I get it..
and so you get defensive and try to reduce Her
to an object that gets passed around and probably has “a few good years left”
She has a knife in your heart already.
She got in when She saw your pain
and She started cutting away the lie..
sorry it hurts so bad…
The lie is that you want to Love Her.
The lie is that you want to Fuck Her.
The lie is that you have any idea what’s going on.
The lie is that you don’t feel sad and lonely.
Her mercy and understanding of your isolation
is Her motivation. She has been burned at the stake and hung from the tree for you to be free.
She laid at the foot of the cross sobbing while you died. She loves you.
She will always be your Mother Light
and She will never leave you.
(even when you think you left Her)
Open your eyes and look at me for real this time.