Embrace Me

Embrace Me

Embrace me.
Or just hold me.
Ah, just grab my hard cock.
As I hold you,
Or just play with your breasts.

Embracing is all encompassing.
Holding is less so.
But we get distracted,
With fondling.

Sex is spiritual.
A possibility
Of divine-like creation.

But we play at it.
Play with it.
We fiddle about.
It is a sport,
Exercise at best.
A competition mostly.

It is an instinct
That we have debased.
Instead of elevating.

Taking it (literally sometimes),
At the lowest common denominator.
We make it one sided,
Not relational.
Often just, transactional.

I can embrace you
And support you.
Hold you together.
Hold you up.

I can grab you
And use you.
Steal you,
And make you feel,
Mistakenly, secure.
But only kept,
Not protected.

What is it
That makes the difference
Between cultivating development?
Between capturing and cultivating?
Between loving and lusting?

A Word Runway Show

 A Word Runway Show

That breast
That I can’t see,
But I can caress
With my eyes….
It so pleases me.

What is hidden
Draws me to you,
Because it’s so forbidden.

If only I could read your thoughts,
Like our clothes let me read
Your body.

But that is what language can do,
When it is well cut
And sewn.

Where is the runway show,
That gives our words
As much attention
As a high fashion show?

Our Eyes Lead Us Astray

Our Eyes Lead Us Astray

Let’s get it on,
In our minds
And with our words.

Let’s get it on,
With our clothes on
And see what that finds.

What can we
Uncover,
When we stay
Covered?

What can we see
With our minds,
When the covers
Are all we see?

When our eyes—
Overrated—
Lead us astray,
What will our minds

Show us and say? 

What We Do

What We Do

Things combine,
And then burn,
Or explode.

They collide,
And they churn,
And erode.

Things will change,
Always do.

We want them
To stay the same.
That motivates
So much
Of what we do,

Things fall apart;
That is what they do.
Change is always
The counterpart
That drives me and you.

Nothing in Silence

 Nothing in Silence

And what of the words we say?
For some, they cannot hurt you.
Others insist they are violence.
And both are said about silence.

The world is changed by our words.
Not when we say or think them,
But when believe them,
Which leads us then to act on them.

Yes, our words make our world,
When they motivate us.
They give us our guidance.
It's only nothing that exists
                        In silence.

Reality Fails

 Reality Fails

The real pales
In comparison;
Taken as it’s found
It has no garrison.

It cannot defend
Against the assaults
Of technology
Ideology
And propaganda.
All of these assaults
Produce results.

Does what is found have:
Any weight to it?
Or any purpose?
Or any meaning in it?

Is it found with its:
Own reality?
Structure to shape it?
Some standards to fit?
Does it have a world?
A pure essence?
Solid presence?

It lacks all of these,
But is still The Real.
It transcends all these,
Not matter what we think and feel.