I saw you lying there ---
stretched all out in sleep.
Too long for the couch
upon which you lay.
Almost vulnerable.
As it was hot, though cooler than
has been of late,
You lay without a sheet.
Covers had been shoved aside in sleeping.
I had thought you were another --
Coming in as I did from light to dark,
But something made me stay my hand
til you had been identified.
Perhaps it was your infernal snoring
that told me it was you.
My eyes ran the length of your body ---
I had scarce realized how long and alabaster you lay.
Long of limb and long on stubborness,
Yet as you slept I could scarce tear my eyes from you.
Much as I wanted to slip to you,
run my hands along your lengths,
To see if your skin was to the touch
as cool as to the eye --
Yet I could not go.
Fear of how I'd be received holds me too far back.
Harder still is seeing you
bleary-eyed in sleep but up and ready to go.
How I long to gather your head to my bosom,
ruffle your hair
and kiss the dark crown of your head.
No. It's your move, and you're not moving.
07/1989
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, \ Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit \ Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, \ Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. ~~71, Rubainat of Omar Khannam
Saturday, July 21, 1990
Sunday, July 01, 1990
My Parent's Divorce, 1989, Part II
Those damn blackberries
Will sit in that fridge
til they rot away!
Because I feel too guilty to eat them
And too guilty to throw them away.
Kind of symbolic, don't you think?
Just make up your mind, Bo,
And quit screwing around!
Love has a pretty long shelf life,
but
Love will rot, too,
Just like blackberries.
If it sits around
Unused, unnurtured, unsavored,
and uncared for.
07/1989
Will sit in that fridge
til they rot away!
Because I feel too guilty to eat them
And too guilty to throw them away.
Kind of symbolic, don't you think?
Just make up your mind, Bo,
And quit screwing around!
Love has a pretty long shelf life,
but
Love will rot, too,
Just like blackberries.
If it sits around
Unused, unnurtured, unsavored,
and uncared for.
07/1989
My Parent's Divorce, 1989 Part I
A bowl of blackberries sits in my fridge.
They're molding in the middle.
And I feel bad.
I'm afraid I've hurt their feelings.
They were good blackberries.
Fresh and ripe and juicy, picked in their prime.
I nibbled one or two.
But mom brought them.
She sits in my old life.
It's rotten in the middle.
I know I've hurt her feelings.
She was a good mom.
Full of fresh ideas, ripe thoughts, juicy laughter
.... held us in her prime.
She had us two... Kerstin & I.
But Graham bought her.
He sits in her new life.
It's rotten in the middle.
I think it's hurt my loving.
It was a good loving ---
Fresh and ripe and juicy -- young and in the prime of life.
Getting ready to try a twosome.
But that's in cold storage now
A new life is thawing on the counter.
I hope it's not gotten freezer burn.
07/1989
They're molding in the middle.
And I feel bad.
I'm afraid I've hurt their feelings.
They were good blackberries.
Fresh and ripe and juicy, picked in their prime.
I nibbled one or two.
But mom brought them.
She sits in my old life.
It's rotten in the middle.
I know I've hurt her feelings.
She was a good mom.
Full of fresh ideas, ripe thoughts, juicy laughter
.... held us in her prime.
She had us two... Kerstin & I.
But Graham bought her.
He sits in her new life.
It's rotten in the middle.
I think it's hurt my loving.
It was a good loving ---
Fresh and ripe and juicy -- young and in the prime of life.
Getting ready to try a twosome.
But that's in cold storage now
A new life is thawing on the counter.
I hope it's not gotten freezer burn.
07/1989
An Ode to a Friend and in retrospect, a fair Wishlist for Life's Love
You asked me what I like of you
Most of all; the best
Often now I wonder
if perhaps I failed a test
For I said I liked you for accepting me
No matter what I be.
But now I find there's so much more
As I let my mind run free.
I like you for your honesty,
for your concientious care
I like you for your laughter,
and because you're willing to take a dare.
I like you for your passion
I like you for your peace.
I like you 'cause you're muddled
sometimes a sheep in coyote's fleece.
I like you for your love of God,
and for your love of Man.
I like you for your Honor,
and for your care of a lady's hand.
I like you for your vision
Your imagination's wide.
I like you 'cause you're learn-ed
and because I know you've cried.
I like you 'cause you touch me
and let me run my fingers thru your hair.
I like you 'cause I love you
and 'cause I know you care.
I like you 'cause you talk to me
and share your life and thoughts
I like you for creations
with your heart and mind you've wrought.
All these things, there's more, and yet,
When my list is through,
I still find I fail to tell you:
What I love most of you....
Is you.
07/1989
Most of all; the best
Often now I wonder
if perhaps I failed a test
For I said I liked you for accepting me
No matter what I be.
But now I find there's so much more
As I let my mind run free.
I like you for your honesty,
for your concientious care
I like you for your laughter,
and because you're willing to take a dare.
I like you for your passion
I like you for your peace.
I like you 'cause you're muddled
sometimes a sheep in coyote's fleece.
I like you for your love of God,
and for your love of Man.
I like you for your Honor,
and for your care of a lady's hand.
I like you for your vision
Your imagination's wide.
I like you 'cause you're learn-ed
and because I know you've cried.
I like you 'cause you touch me
and let me run my fingers thru your hair.
I like you 'cause I love you
and 'cause I know you care.
I like you 'cause you talk to me
and share your life and thoughts
I like you for creations
with your heart and mind you've wrought.
All these things, there's more, and yet,
When my list is through,
I still find I fail to tell you:
What I love most of you....
Is you.
07/1989
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