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Vertical Prose


January 23rd, 2007

gnawing at my hands @ 11:20 pm



Maybe it is my own sense of self worth

sure
i CAN point a finger
and be accurate:

he moves slow
doesn't hear well
makes bad choices
smells; tastes bad

i can talk about the good qualities if i can remember them
but when My mind has switched over
it is a bit blind
the past nearly gets eradicated in the light of the present

but isn't that as it should be?

his wasteful attitude
his complaining about every aspect of the trip

what i loved him for yesterday
is the biggest bane of today.


when Jan offers him a glass
a chocolate
the hot plates made of cork
the right ones

when Jan lays on the floor and defers to me
asks if i'd like the proper glass to drink my whiskey
brings out only two mugs for the tea
-- himself as an after thought
later fetching a small tea-cup

but when i go to do something for him
i am wrong
he is distrustful
and cuts me off at the quick.

i DO feel a loss
a lack
that warmth and cuddling
the appreciation
the affirmation
the validation

BUT
i do not want to be coddled
nor do i want to have to exist with someone on such terms

TRUE
i have surrounded myself with these big soft men
in an effort to find masculinity that would accept me
not reject me for my own sensitivity

though i have not got that
i have only got men that i could step down before
bite my tongue
find ways to please
to keep them wanting me
allowing me a soft belly to wrap myself around

teddy bear (which i never had as a child)
the warm and curlies
the soft
enveloping

Of Course

with these men
i can Never be honest and true
the natural hardness of my being is an offense to their way of life
sugar coated, cotton wool

Yes...
i know why i want it
i know why i've sought it out
but it's kept me from refining my practice
from clarifying my vision

yes
it has given me a place of rest
but never fully a place of nourishment

suffering through over-fatted calf
yes, such riches
such ignorant blisses

(he cums upstairs)
like only wanting to eat cup cakes


damp heat.


yes
it is nice for it to be nice all the time
but you know why i don't want it to be nice all the time, darling?
because it's a lie.
and that lie is a toad destroying the roots of the world tree
who needs a good solid dose of some hard truth



i am so sorry i have to bring hurt and confusion to these men who have been only answering my wishes for dreams of comfort
but it's not real
and it's not helping me

i need Life

many of the boys in my class are out dancing pretty
and i don't want that either

might i be a mad scientist alone for late hours
dissecting codes for an imaginary truth?

could i have lost the only opportunity i had as a child to get the training that would allow me behind this
curtain?

i
keep
coming
to
the
end
of
the
path
and
find
my
self
Lost

wake up a few steps back

What's Out There?

Someone: come find me.

til then: i'll keep trying.

(casting my line in both directions, as is my habit... desperately hoping for a snag in the dark)

-- for a hand to place my pole on the ground and lead me through the forest

danger of leaders

but i have a block.
is it in my DNA?

if there was no hope for me
wouldn't i be dead already?

am i being punished to live the rest of my life in hell?
too much of it has been already...

i don't think so.

this time in Oregon has reminded me of my pact with nature
i know there is something i can do
channel the life force into the core of the planet
hold the hand to carry us through

what's the word for?
dancing in a circle
dive through eachother's hands
where we all disappear
 
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