Month: December 2011

In First Person

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It’s amazing how much tenderness can

Come from a man who has healed

And it doesn’t matter if the table is wobbly

It can still hold enough weight if it’s done properly

And warmth transformed into a soothing breath

Which came from the mouth

So close to the face– more intimate

And entirely better than a kiss

It takes courage to express much tenderness

And when it comes from a man who

Does not think of where or how

He will use his hands– he uses them

In the face of all uncertainty

Like reaching out for the last needle

In the hay stack

Because needles want to be found

And if you happen to land on one

Then you are unique and lucky

Because not everyone can find

A needle in a load of hay

There are reasons why men cannot show tenderness

They are afraid

Because real men

Don’t have all the answers

They have to work at loving

Like everyone else

And sometimes the past speaks a little

Bit louder than they would like to admit

My advice would be to express it

Leap, vault, hurdle, jump in

You may never get this chance again

You may lose other chances

But you expressed your tenderness

You reached out further than you thought you would

And then something miraculously happened

I reached back

In first person

Because needles want to be found

The Closest I Can Get

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In the garden, there was this saying

Inside the core of an apple

“What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger”

The garden was truth and it was good and

If you can conceptualize good

Then you know of bad—but it wasn’t like that, then

The word good wasn’t trapped in idealism

Or semantics; It was sweet, unnoticed

Like breath

And that is the closest I can get

The apple in the garden

Was not just knowledge

The apple in the garden

Was pure and pure was like good things

All good with no sadness, or worries,

Or fear.

The apple was pure and that was

What kept the garden pure

All harmony and, how we say, well-balanced

Then one day a husbandman came into the garden

Told the lady of the garden she had no options, no outs

No answers…she told the lady of the garden of

Cultivation, growth, and repercussion. The husbandman

Had tools in which the lady had never seen—then she

Opened the lady like a can of worms, echoing

“What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger”

She awoke to pain; she awoke to emptiness,

And she awoke to the knowledge

of death

How much knowledge can be good?

If you know enough will it aid you?

If you know enough will it save you?

It was gone; it was picked

Knowing didn’t solve it

Knowing didn’t cure it

Knowing was death

And that is the closest

I can get

After the garden—before it went bad

There were all good things

Like not worrying when

Your next hug would be

Or if you had food or clothing

No worries over making choices that would

Make you cry

Good things all around

After the garden—before it went bad

The lady was happy as could be, and happy then

Was unnoticed, was there, like breath

And that is the closest

I can get

And the apples?

The apples were good

Very good

Eternal Unawakening

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When you walk with me

I may not get to the part of

Why they always leave me

In their hearts before I go

And then it comes

Back round again

A dead season

An eternal unawakening

An unconditional

An unforgiving

A mother nature

Unbecoming

Am I that important?

On a universal checking list

Of people needing time to sit

Reflect upon the great unknowns

Would I have created a monster

Would manson, hitler be my child?

Would I still be asking you

with kindness to understand

and give me hope?

I’m unsure of how this hibernation

If it really is what I perceive

Will change the frame of existence

When I’m the one non-existing

Would it be bad to walk with me

Was it felt before it came?

Did fate or God speak blunt to you

Did it whisper ‘not it’ in the wind that day

An untouchable life needs ‘touch’

Needs its senses filled or destroyed

An unfathomable ‘why’ needs answers

When they are unquestionably wrong

Or wrongly implored

And then it comes back round again

I did understand but forgot how to…

My life is a dead season

An eternal unawakening

An unconditional

An unforgiving

A mother nature

Unbecoming

Never the same again

Would it had been that bad?