Lluvia de Mujeres/ 3

"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.


................................................................................................................................

The sky lightens, no birdsong accompaniment

but darkened forms against the somber grey

move gently in the breeze.

My love sleeps, while my dog barks

and the screen in front of my eyes burns cold.

I get up from my chair, open the door and urge a silence on the dogs.

The amber lamp on the roads edge burns orange against a violet sky,

the first songs are heard.

Mornings have I known, so cold and unfriendly dawn

but not these days.

So much is this ode, so little in the day

so little is the day, so little that it needs be followed with eternity

and a hundred years of mornings, silvery and fresh as dew

and a hundred years of mornings to be spent with a friend like you.

....................................................................................................................................

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 she who makes my days and nights without concern for what is "too much love". She who would look at me with eyes that see my goodness and love me for my humanity...

Perhaps it is too much to ask. Perhaps I should rejoice and give thanks that my needs are met and the faces are sweet and many. Perhaps. But am I capable, honestly, of not wishing she would come into my world, that she would be my dream and reason for so much beyond just me...just one woman, just that one I KNOW is out there, wanting me, waiting for me...

....................................................................................................................................

I don't intend to send this but i sit here writing it

I am wrestling, if it were but Jacob's angel

then the task would be only a challenge,

I am wrapped in coils, I am surrounded

by my self, and with myself I encircle me

My head under my arm, my leg in a twist

half Nelson of emotions wringing me

and an anaconda too...

It is not good for a man to be alone

especially if he wraps himself in coils

that suffocate him, slowly.

It is not the Good

for a man to be alone either

How can it be good? Look around you,

we're reproducing like there is no tomorrow

and we all need someone to talk to

and 8 billion souls that all struggle

that all wrestle, that all wrap themselves

in these mortal coils

................................................................................................................................

Critique is valid. But only in the arts.

I would like to avoid "criticism" in our love. 

I feel that I don't want to decide that some other way than the way you like to do things is right or better.

I want to accept your way of being and only help change what you may want different.

I say this because one of the things I notice about couples is that they have a gravity, each person "limits" the other through this gravity. I find this unfortunate and wish to avoid such with you. I am always here for you. Know this. I take all your concerns seriously.

I want you to take seriously what matters to me too, but I don't want you to be deformed from such support.

I hope you understand what I mean.

I was talking with a friend about relationships and it entered my head how that had worked in my past relation.

So it is not something I wish to have play between us.

I want you to know , here in these words, that you are free to be who you are with me. All the you you are, are fine by me.

In order for me to love you, all I ask is communication. I won't judge you. I will listen to you. If you want an answer, I will see what I have to say that is of value.

So, please...don't ask me to change you. I like you just the way you are.

....................................................................................................................................................................

I had wanted you and the world said no, my marriage said no, my history said no...

Then it all changed, and then you said no,

because of another, just as I had done before.

Then you spoke with me and you were kind

and you listened to my words and you felt  my feelings.

Then you started to say maybe. Maybe we could be friends,

maybe we could talk and enjoy the company of such interesting people.

Then came the day, when your confusion, my words,

your doubts, his actions, her words all conspired to bring you closer to yes.

And that brought you closer to me.

Now you are thousands of miles away, so far that only my wishes can touch you.

Now you wake in foreign bed, not your own.

Now you sleep in some location, you don't yet sleep at home.

Now you ask patience, now you ask that we build.

Now my work is a pyre, unlit, a stack of my longing, a pile of "my need" smoldering.

Yesterday was lost, it came suddenly and I do NOT long for yesterday. Life is today.

Yesterday left no hope.

Yesterday melted in the rains.

Yesterday took my love away.

Yesterday I felt that death was my spouse for the rest of my days.

Yesterday was only painful tears and rain.

Today, I write these words, for your eyes, but

let your ears hear me,

let your skin feel me,

let your nose discover my scent,

let your tongue taste my saliva,

let it all happen as it shall.

Let it be as it is meant to be.

Today is not tomorrow, nor allied with yesterday's losses.

Today I sing your praises and you sing mine.

Today is the doorway to a new life.

We stand at the threshold, looking in and wondering if this is OUR HOUSE,

if this is OUR LOVE, if this is OUR LIFE TOGETHER?

I tell you this, OUR HOME is inside, just past that jamb, under that lintel, between those posts.

OUR HOME is inside that space unknown.

I tell you as well, so that you may know for all your days

When you come home, I will never be able to leave.

..................................................................................................................................................................

• 
  

  My Woman,

  I promise.

  All I know of you is love.

  Before we meet,

  again,

  like we never have

  and always have

  all you are is love,

  
  

  being loved,

  loving, 

  my beloved

  
  

  all you are is never enough,

  because I can never be sated.

  Truly, there is so much more

  inside you,

  and if only a life of devotion

  and prostration before you can reveal

  what I need to know,

  then I pray you, force me to ground

  bleed my devoted affection

  and use my obedient adoration to build

  your throne.

  Take my undying love and with it

  build your lovely home.

  
  

  
  

  ---