Cogitus Rex

My head is confused, my emotions are subtle and nearly flat. I don’t really know how to go, so I go as I always have...with perseverance and faith, inconstancy and doubt. I write that and ponder how one death, albeit the most important death other than my own, can make of an entire world an alien universe? I have survived nearly 18 months of grueling grief. Had I been asked to choose between this and running a weekly barefooted marathon on broken glass, I would have chosen the latter. But there was no choice, Death is an asshole that way, just shits on you and walks away. But thank you, really, Death. You exposed yourself for the fraud you are. You dare to take their carrion flesh, corpses are your trophies. I shit back at you. Stinking Death. Nothing you do takes the Love. NOTHING. That is exactly what you think you leave us with. Nothing. But you are so jaded, having killed so many and most without even a thought for how loved they

Not by my word... Really, she posits deposits? And what makes shame your diet? How did such a voluptuous form get lost in deadly thoughts? Denial of the flesh is mortification of the soul. There is no future without the tenderness that makes of a man and a woman>>>>>>>>> a couple. (Not by my word, but written in chronicles of Time) Oh no. Give me the airy heights where Love toils not in sweat. Oh no, give me the places where gods are jealous of men so they covet what they cannot have, let us blight a romance with dry and dusty ideals. Really, give me the clouds that are cold and logical, like vapor that turns to ice. (Not by my word, but hewn in rock.) The course of a river is not a woman’s to change, even if water is her problem. (Not by my word, but burned in diamond light) The sun should set in the East and Earth spin in reverse.

"Terror ist! Baby"...(DerBaderMeinhof) She's not the kind  fused with a bomb but one that burns then explodes in a whisper. Delta girl what do you know of whiskers? You shaved a clam, perhaps some legs and an armpit or 2, but what do you know of beards and moustache and whiskers? I admit I don't know much mascara or eyeshadow or lipstick, I don't get cramps monthly so how can I KNOW? You would expect me to be you, to know what you want me to do, to be, to pretend. I haven't a clue about you, and after so long one would expect at least a sketch of how she looks. But my terrorist baby, driving away in her car/bomb, leaves me empty, not shattered. She turns me to words that live in your eyes. But do either of us have a clue, really? So I say to you, not negotiating here just saying you should know better, I should know better and we don't. ...............................................................................

Wow. Snow. Yikes. Cold. YIKES. Come here, I'll warm your toes on my tongue. You have a doubt, let me bury my nose in your skin and smell you to the bone. I will sniff it out and place it in the bin. I love your wrinkles because I can’t see them. Your eyes twinkle and shine too bright. This incredible gift, your love light. For me to use when I find myself alone in darkest night. I remain in love with you, she wrote. I guess I will just have to see how long I can remain tied up like this. Morning sounds like mourning Delight sounds like Thee Light In the morning you’re delight, in mourning You’re Thee Light. Today you are madness, trembling and shakes inside and out. You have blasted my exterior clean of all the moss and pain that had become my second skin. I am raw, pink new skinned and in the wind of desire I am blown away again, wanting only your presence, your hand in mine, your touch... ..

Come ruin my solitude. Come yell my name from outside so I can see this butterfly. Come din my silence. Come bang the drum of your beauty in my eyes, whip my ears with laughter. Come stand in your light and throw my shadow on the pages of the book of my life. Come pull me out of my chair to dance to the silence you just splintered. Come take my peace. Come take it and live in it with me all the days we have left. Come blind me. Show me your soul's glowing brilliance and your hearts pure burning desire. Come drown me, smother me in your breasts, come shut my mouth with your open kisses, stiffen me, come make me obey, a line such as I has never graced your way. Come fill my time with the infinite that is you.  .................................................................................................................................. I wake with the light or with the dark if the sun is late. I am the farmer, I am he who plants, foo

Loving women. I loved A woman for more than 40 years. That meant certain restrictions on my ability to befriend women. I did not mind. I loved my wife dearly and honestly all my life with her, I love her memory now as much as I did her. But I cannot commune with her. I cannot kiss her. I cannot hold her or converse with her, I can't ask her about herself anymore. I used to rely on her for all that and more and I gave all that I could that she asked of me. Now I have many friends who are kind and decent women. They care for me, in all the ways they perceive me as unable to. They cook, they clean, they converse and they enjoy my company. They call and check on me, they bring me things and think of me...I am truly blessed. I find this love most enjoyable...and yet, there remains in me a longing to find HER, like my wonderful Carla, a woman beyond my expectations, a woman I have no restraints against, no mask to hide my face from her, no other to have to demure to or think of, just