Monthly Archives: November 2005

Thanksgiving Poem

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Thanksgiving Poem, loaf of breadThis poem was written by my partner and lover of 9 years, Ralf. Though english is not his first language, he always had a way with words. (he is German) His spirit taught me so much about attitude and perseverance. He is an old soul. Though we are no longer together, I believe we still have a connection. I am honored and gratified to have been his lover. Thank you, Ralf. With love, David

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends out there. I hope you have warm, smiling eyes to gaze into and laugh with as you break bread together on this most universal of holidays.

Thanksgiving is a moment to remember
How little we can do to move the stars.
All we are and have we must surrender,
Nor is Earth less inscrutable than Mars.
Knowing this, we know the need for friends
Sharing both our pleasures and our pain,
Giving, though it may not serve their ends,
In joy the love that will our love sustain.
Very much like water in a lake,
In sum we serve as mirrors to the sky.
No one alone can heaven’s picture take.
Given friends, we know the reason why.

by Ralf

Siegfried Idyll

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Riesling Grapes, Siegfried Idyll
Go and be the breeze
whispering over grassy
silk waves atop verdant,
elegant hills. Rest there
among the familiar tales
of sun ripe Riesling grapes
pearled along the plunging slopes
of castle views over river Rhine.
Go and taste the resilience
of Teutonic history, rising
and falling against the maelstrom
of Viking invaders. Go and
rebuild from scratch what you
know is good and right. Dwell in
the fecund soil of steady passion.
Find skin by the wind.
Find fruit in your heart.
Taste the lambent anodyne
smiling through
sweet, golden wine.

This goes out to my crushes. You know who you are.

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Intimacy

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veach glines art, intimacy

Some kind of far and deep metamorphoses has been taking place in me the past few years. I’ve grappled with some of its details here on this electronic stage, in posts such as Flat Sex and Taboo Sex as Mythic Fuel.

Intimacy is a very different chemistry than sexual attraction. Men tend to fear intimacy. I know I do. I feel like I’m giving over my soul. No way. Sex is easier than love, by far, especially for men. And post orgasm rejection comes as easily as removing the condom.

In the long run, having sex is less important than intimacy. I know that seems obvious to many, but sex and its trappings in the gay world can create a quagmire of identity. To my surprise, I’m finding that a deeply felt connection can lead to beautiful and rewarding sexual experiences. But the walls of self protection and self deception are high and the foundations deep. The house is confused with the man.

The house metaphor carries through my life. I have always lived more clearly externally than internally. My soft, chewy center is well camouflaged by my friendly, affable exterior. I focus on the exterior to fulfill my desire to be accepted and loved, but my vulnerability remains hidden. And that exterior takes time to maintain. It becomes self perpetuating. The house becomes me. But I remain, the inner child wanting to play, the faerie struggling in a man’s world, the artist trying to shape chaos, experimenting, the boy fearing rejection by his father, by anyone, the explorer wanting to wander and get lost, to find new lands.

I’m finding that just allowing myself to know these intimate personas is the greater battle. Looking in the mirror, I only see the shell. The inside is hidden even to me. But that is changing.

Digiart by Veach

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Glittering Commentari 14, Ned

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Glittering Commentari

Ned (or newly moved Ned) is back on the billboard. S’he returns with rare trinkets from way up high where s’he often flies. Here are two gems from h(is)er responses to other comments to his post called Bird Omens.

” One can only think too much if thinking is just an excuse for not doing. ”

“Sometimes when the door of opportunity opens, it lets in the flies.”

Ringers. They just rattle around in my head all day. I love ’em!! I want a T-shirt that says, “Have you had your Nedful today?”.

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Airmail Love

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vaca-en-we

Sometimes before sleep late at night, I lie in bed
listening to my cats purr as they lick themselves clean
before curling up in a furball as close as possible to me.
I hear the distant roar of the highway, thousands
of cars swishing in a hurry to get somewhere,
perhaps the moon. Maybe they are lonely,
and sad love follows them as fast as they can drive.
Or maybe they’re rushing for an emergency,
a serious accident, or worse. Or maybe they were
working late, and long to get home
to a warm bed, and peace, if nothing else.
I think of my friends all over the world,
living lives with direction, going forward, or not,
friends past, whom I’ve lost touch with,
friends present but distant, thousands of miles away.
I think of all the sad or happy or tragic people
spinning around the planet as it spins across time,
laughing, crying, or lonely, dying,
or perhaps wondering and grateful, as I am.
And I think of you, with your quiet burning
of life with it’s myriad questions.
And I send you a little message. I open my heart
and give you my nurturing thoughts, my hope, my love.
I wish you well, I wish you peace.
By sending an airmail full of good wishes,
I feel lighter as I prepare for sleep under
a fluffy down comforter and two warm furballs.

Digiart by Veach. I think they’re pretty cool. I hope you do too. If you want to see the original piece, click on the image and there you are.