latcher

I latch onto others' passions
for then they feel as mine
their newness rushes in ideas
new avenues, new hopes.
And when my me is witnessed
when my uses are liked, desired,
my ego puffs up its shoulders and swells its muscles
"yes, you want to be with me. yes, I'm useful."

the borrowed nature of the passions
means they really are not true.
though they may feel true
seem true
act true
manifest true
their source is the desire to feel alive
and to feel seen, wanted, close to someone
to serve

borrowed passions
they lopside strange if I
don't know
what they are

envelop

anything mind envelops
with understanding and description
attains a defensible position
against what may counter it
emotions, outrages, fakes, patterns
they all are held by mother mind
preventing ego's hurt
for it wants to be right
it IS right
even when it acknowledges a past mistake
understanding and accepting it
that envelope
re-certifies it for inculpable being
a strict unmess that will not let my pant legs get wet
with doubts, fears, errors, and equivocation
defensibility is its aim
so what the crick feels like
when I friscking jump wholly in?

leftover

a beating heart keeps pumping
with leftover momentum from long-waned passions
grinded forward by basic habit and hungers
routine and scarcity
despisal and lack
are here

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Helper syndrome

Passion is lost

Somewhere

To time

To knowledge

To disillusion

To routine

Where did it go?

Hidden

Or worn

Barely naught remains

The crumbs of survival instincts and

Helper syndrome

Remain

naked

clouds lightened, and now sunlight shines through
on my eyes, from the shine of the smooth things around me
a glittery world changing its dress
from rainy gray to sunny damp
though I'd much rather see her naked
and together play and learn the ways of love.
real love

open up my heart
when I do that, am I naked?
I so yearn to be so naked
and be nothing, naught at
fucking
all

done with Life

I'm done with Life
I've been since I was sixteen
It seems, though, that it is Life
who is not done with me

Each month and the next I ask it
what do you want with me.
I live led on by
urges and distractions,
aims I know are not my own.

Her answer is often silent,
only my something replies with
quiet despair.

No food, no woman, no money or house,
is where my passions live.
Where then, is this true spark
I've lost

No place, no knowledge, no feat or fame
transcends this person's life.
Life has been lately saying "patience",
and my person tears up and cries.

No more, please, get me out of here.
I'm done, kill me, let another do
whatever you want done.
Cause following physical habits
stumbling on shadows,
I don't want that as my own.

Get me out.
Get me out.
Get me out.
of.
Life.

tough

why wouldn't I share?
why did I feel scared
of sending her wispy words that came by
a spark in my belly, a hug from my arms?
a telling "I miss you"
requesting "let's meet"
why did I shun the instant truth
in favor of being discreet?

I wanted to seem I was tough
that I could be enough
for her
to hold those feelings that
came and went without reason
if unjustified, uncertain,
and I did not want to show her my uncertain
for uncertain is not tough, not defensible, not dependable
I would not show her my subtles
for fear of not knowing their whys
for fear of giving her too manys
for fear of letting her know how
afraid I was she would not want me
because

I was too much
I was too little
I said too much
I said too little
I approached too strong
I seemed too strange
uncertain
I made no sense
or forced sense into it all

these fences all disturb
the flow of what we are
let go

receive

and can I RECEIVE her
will I?

a flow in one direction outgoes somewhere else
and I wish to take her flow as well
open me
for the flow and love
to shine through
us

our divine and our animal

can I truly drop and flow myself
fully, no lifesaver, no backup rope?
will I? is what I wonder

I know I desire to share with her
can I share abso-fucking-lutely
all?
my yeses, my nos, my smiles, my shouts
my walls, their tearing down, my heart in true mode?
knowing distraction when it comes with list-making,
problem-solving,
logical righteousness,
comfort of money
knowing and feeling us as one organism
aching to find the truth of itself?

I say I desire a connection. what kind?
one I depend on, one that I crave
because I do not feel worthy myself?
please have me discern this
if this is the case

I wish to be true
I wish to not hurt her
that mixes in with wanting to please her
and that projects an image of myself I think will please her
not the same thing

stay true stay me stay being
open
soft
unleash my truth
whatever it takes
this connection is not measured in failure or success
of whether we like it or not
let us share from center
only then can we

play both our divine and our animal
hoping this includes the heart
our heart

bring the walls down

Tis in my being
the feeling of being by her side
my hand imagines touching that skin
between her neck and her right breast
give it to me
she clearly said
I valiant, took off the mighty dread
that my invasion was a farce
manipulated kissing arse
scared shitless, twas the thing to say
I'm scared you'll think of me this way,
that I lied my way into your legs
by crafty logic and silent smiles.

tis not the case now, that I know
you take me in, that's joy galore
I'm here, unclear, and tell you that
uncertain, frightened, hooray for that
can we just open up our trees,
and offer anything that comes out?
the sap, the filth, the joy, the blood
let us be all, not one speck less
or more

let me be a clear container
to my own inklings, feelings, and thoughts
when the walls are down perhaps
with both our walls down we can
play
stay
there. in the center truth
from where nothing and all are birthed without need

my plexus glows, my body is warm
with care I long to share with you
I close my eyes and feel it so
let the fine ethers bring it to you
and bathe your body, shower it through
and hold our feelings back no more