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Tag Archives: love

The Feather and the Weight

Someone asked me if I remembered the good times. Why I could remember the details of the bad times, but not recall the specifics of all the good ones. I answered.

Because the good times are so much more ephemeral. Evanescent. Even among the grandness of life, the good, the joyous, is found in the seemingly insignificant, made up of moments, small kindnesses, sincere unbidden smiles, the touch of the hand, a glance. Whispers. They possess an ineffability that affects us deeply but leaves its mark on our inner world. Like religious experience, they are hard to grasp, but exist no less. Over time, they add up to goodness. Each not so different than another, but with a feeling of being filled with goodness though one may cast about for specific examples.

And the bad times. They come like startling punches to the gut amid the good moments. So surprising, the shock embeds the details in memory.

Some days we get up, look outside at the gorgeousness of the day. And we feel filled with joy and delight. But what particular sunny day do you recall? How many? But the storms amid them? The horrific storms we remember, blow by blow.

The good becomes ubiquitous. The bad embeds in space and time.

The good does not diminish but persists even though we cannot point to it.

And the bad can fade, unless it is refreshed. Unless the storms come again, and again. Punched too often, one becomes sore and shy.

It doesn’t minimize the goodness at all. But our memory treats them differently. Joy and trauma do not process the same way. Pleasure and pain are not remembered alike.

 
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Posted by on March 2, 2013 in philosophy, psychology

 

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If I Could Show You Your Heart

If I could show you
Your own heart
You would fall
In love with you.

You would see what I see:
The Universe flaming into being
And newborn light
Leaping from star to star.

You would see
The birth of suns
Comets spinning into space
And planets coming to life,
Life upon life.

You would see
Celestial bodies in love
Drowning in each other
And their children
Populating the skies.

If I could show you
Your own heart
You could see mine
Deep inside, smiling.

 
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Posted by on March 2, 2013 in Poetry

 

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When I held You

The moment I held you,
nested with your body,
wed thigh to thigh,
belly to back,
breath to your neck.
The moment I held you
The sigh, the sleep
my hand rising and falling
with each of your breaths,
you, my inspiration.
The moment I held you
when your body let go,
when your soul, let loose,
held to mine, soul to soul,
and I could no longer tell
whose soul belonged to who.
The moment I held you
when the distance disappeared,
when separation ceased,
when all became you and me
became we and naught else existed
but us and still you are all with which
I am filled.

 
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Posted by on February 22, 2013 in philosophy, Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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Just some thoughts I had today. For what they are worth.

Don’t be something you are not. Don’t do things just because you think it is what someone else will want, or so that person won’t be angry, or sad, or lonely.  Not for anyone. Don’t change anything for anyone just because you think it’ll make someone happy. It is ingenuine.  It is a form of dishonesty.  The other person will never know if it is really your desire or just you doing what you think someone else wants. It will end in distrust, even if your intentions were good.

How you are is not your fault. Your past, your habits, your reactions. None of it. Until that very moment when you find something you dislike or want to change.  Then it is your fault if it continues, your responsibility if it remains. The moment you find something you want to change, it is no longer blamable on the past.

Don’t go to sleep angry. You’ve heard that before.  But it is good advice. Don’t. Not at a spouse, or your kid, or your boss, or the government, or the world.  Breathe and let it go. You might not wake up. Don’t go to sleep angry.  And when you make up, wake up to see a smile, or the bright sun, or to falling rain, or to something that is sweet, because it may be the last time you wake, may be the last day you see. Fill your day with harmony and sweetness, because you may not see the next day. Why have anything on your last day that isn’t sweet? If anything gets in the way of harmony and sweetness, change how you feel about it or remove it.

Even pain can be sweet. But drama never is.

People love you and have helped you. Love and help them. Be there for them. Even if you have the short end of the bargain from time to time.  But don’t let gratitude, or love, or fear, yours or theirs, hold you hostage.  If you do, the relationship is built on something ingenuine.

Be you. The best you you can be. If you like something about you, or if it works for you, don’t change it. Not for anyone or anything. If there is something you don’t like, or if it doesn’t work for you, change it, no matter what others feel about it. You get this shot at this life only.

 
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Posted by on February 8, 2013 in Family, philosophy, psychology, Social

 

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Shells

She walks along the weaving foam,
waves bright under the full moon,
picking up shells,
perfect shells,
white shells,
bright shells,
leaving footprints to
fill with glistening sea.

She wants them all.
Each shell, every shell.

Then, when her hand, her arm, are full,
returns them,
one by one,
in splendid moonlit arcs,
again to the sea,
walking away with one,
only one,
the first one.

 
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Posted by on January 28, 2013 in Nature, Poetry

 

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(Im)perfection

There are no scars I can see,
but we know they are there.
The flesh is warm and
tender though beneath
it feels different
than I would have imagined,
I suppose.

Years before
at a youth conference
I was a mentor for the teens
and my partner in class
was a young
lady of forty,
I suppose.
Margot had a close crop of hair
and we talked about imperfections
as we sat on the floor,
she on one side
I on the other
in a circle of kids
all there because they didn’t belong
and so was I.
Margot’s turn came
and she reached into her shirt,
pulled out her left breast and
threw it to me.

Dear Margot,
this is not a normal introduction
is what I said
and the kids laughed
the shock away
as I squeezed lightly
the translucent bag,
jostled it between my fingers
making a mental comparison
which could be seen on my face,
I suppose,
and the kids laughed
as I passed the breast to the left.

Dear Margot,
may I compare
is what I asked
and she said yes, with a smile
I walked the few feet as
she pulled her bra out from her sleeve,
I squeezed lightly
and jostled it between my fingers
making a mental comparison
which could be seen on my face,
I suppose,
and the kids laughed
while passing the breast to the left.

I wouldn’t have imagined,
I suppose,
anything,
because being here
with you, in this way,
feels normal, fine and right,
but who could have seen it coming
as I squeeze lightly,
jostling them between my fingers,
making no mental comparison,
which you can see on my face,
I suppose,
until I kiss your warm flesh
and my face disappears.

 
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Posted by on October 15, 2012 in Culture, Poetry, Social

 

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I want You to fill Me

I want you to fill me.

It is not that I am empty,
but I want you to fill me
so that our essence
is of the same truth
and our eyes
of the same vision
and our hearts
feel of the same blood.

I want to have my eyes filled
with your soul
and my ears filled
by your music
and my hands filled
with all the stars have lent
to be your body
and my mouth filled
with your sweetness,
able to speak only
your name.

 
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Posted by on October 8, 2012 in Poetry, Writing

 

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I Drown

World-weary Angel
ill of this earth
(full) of l(i)o(f)ve
and l(i)oving
in the moment
as the need
taking every hit
this world has
and still open
Angel with your
(he)art and wiles
designed for
dreams and
intoxication and
how do you do it
Angel? Melt the
soul of one
who needs melting
heal the
spirit of one
who needs healing
whole (s)he
who is broken
throw the life preserver
even as you sink
and smile and know
for love
to drown is joy.

I drown in love
Angel and I
live.

 
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Posted by on August 27, 2012 in Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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I Love You Unadorned


I love you
Unadorned
And that you are
In sunlight
And air
Not even between us
In clothes
Simple
You and I all
The decoration
You desire.

 
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Posted by on January 18, 2012 in Poetry

 

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I Will Write You A Poem

Come to me tonight,
And I will write you a poem
To carry with you
In your body,
On your skin.

My fingers will write it
On the palm of your hand,
My lips shall speak to your lips
in silent verse,
My eyes
Will show you the seat of love
From which all poetry comes
And in my voice
You will hear the sound of my soul
Singing your name
In words that come to you
As starlight,
Sweet wind through the trees,
The brush of grass,
The sound of your feet.

 
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Posted by on December 6, 2011 in Poetry

 

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