Sex made me feel hopeful
And not just about us but
About the future. About all
Things sinuous, sensual, or
Sensate. About my senses
Hopeful about the sensitive
In everyone. The world was
Open and full of feelings. It
Was good. Good to be. Alive.
Category Archives: Gratitude
Everyday
Every day, not ordinary, not
Everyday. Make more of what
You've got. Days are a gift to
Treasure and enjoy. It's always
A new day that dawns, even
When it feels like you've been
There before. Every day, not
Ordinary, it's extraordinary.
Saturday. Impending eclipse
This is a sky full of expectations
This sky is brewing an epic event
Everyone says so, and I want to
Join in and be the enjoyer, happy
To watch for a darkening sky, a
Portent. An eclipse could bring all
Sorts of myths and tales of odd
Predictions and presentiments.
In sooth, the bleak will not foretell
Future events of a world plunged
Into obscurity. It will happen, but
Not again for a long, many years
Identify
Who am I? I am not
Complaining, mind
You; just curious.
It's easy to wonder
When the world is
Spinning so fast, I
Can't catch up or
Catch my breath. I
Knew yesterday. I
Did; then one more
Revolution took me
(And it) to another
Place, a new level.
Lost in the night
Held tightly in the cocoon of
A blanket, as fears envelop /
Develop into thoughts darker
Than the night. Where am I?
You wonder. Am I lost in the
Night? Would I know my way
In the daytime? Is it only light
I am missing to guide and to
Cajole me? Am I truly lost or
Only to myself so others can
Find me, strip off the cover of
The night and let me see where
I am in the daylight. Am I lost?
Lost
That he's broken, and breaking
That's clear. It's less clear that
He's still there in his depth, to
The core. All his beauty and a
Touch of wisdom is perversely
Hidden in the fragments of his
Memory and thoughts. It's not
Clear he knows who he was or
Who he is, lost in the mix-ups
Of a mind unsettled to its core
The gift
Joy. He has such a capacity for
Joy. His dark mood can never
Obliterate his expressions of
Joy. It bubbles through, and he
Appreciates some kindness he
Has the sense to sense. Small
Joys win out over big sorrows
It is his gift. A measure of joy.
Valentines
Flowers are symbolic
Words are hyperbolic
Sometimes. Or maybe
Not. Love is a happy
State but elation can't
Be permanently held
On the highwire that's
Life. We balance our
Happiness each day
My heart is full of love
A happy state held on
Life's highwire. I am
Elated but not giddy
Just intently, quietly
In love. Hearts, flowers
Shine like Diamonds
On this evening, I am beguiled
Shiny reflections off that big
Building in the Bronx. At least
I think it's in the Bronx. It is as
Bright as diamonds studded on
Every facet of the facade. I am
Puzzled, the windows here are
All lit. This is not the case in
The buildings closer to home.
Diamonds echo on the bridge.
It's dusk yet not dark enough.
Tamara, really 