Eros Landing

EROS LANDING

Let go of me.

I demand this: I am silk & slippery

Without even your touch

I cannot get away

From this hold

One word, one look,

One imperious look

And I am fainting into your arms

Licking your neck

Lower, lower

While the heat crawls upward

At levels I’ve never experienced

Before

At pain

Not pleasure

That I know would be severe

Contractions, brain-wave disturbances

Mighty & sensuous

As silk & slippery

As us is us when us it is

Yes,  you’re a bull, all cock & balls

But what I would do with these

You would never rationally explain…

You will never have experienced

What I plan: what my body has in store for you

Wrapped in my legs

My arms

My tongues loving all over you

Villain! Thief! I cry aloud

But in your arms

These turn to melting moans

O lord, get me out of this cliché

Beyond & farther out that I’ve ever been

And I know how to weave words

Into pleasure; pressure

Pulsing presences

With a depth charge at the center.

But I find traces of you even where you have not been

This life

Explosives

I can only detonate with you

Not hands, not devices…never anything but

Your body, your pulses rocking me into earthquakes

Prising the continental plates of me

It would be as no other ever has been

Why now? why me? What circle of hell

Would you have me walk along the edge

To arrive at your smile

What trembling & where next

I am trapped here, tripped there

Scourged by desire

With no edges,  no boundaries,

Nothing other than you

To resolve this

To partner me

To part me in the center

No conversation

No ending of heat

This hum along the perineum

Only the hot friction

Of finally, come take me

Come thrust into me

Come overpower me

But expect no mercy in return

Expect no quarter

For I will match you drop for drop

Sound for sound

Slick & sure & sleek of surface

Now now now now now

You are the clothes I would wear

The songs I hear

The love I may never have

You are heat of a winter night

When I would wake shivering

You are a fire for which I have no quenching

Until you find that in me & take me with you

Over & under you

The stretching into forever

We could interact

The arch that continues into full circle

Under the earth

The body’s rainbow

Needing no grounding

No gold

Only make rain on me

Until I scream out loud

No code words, no stopping

No borders of “ever”

Before or after

Once would never be enough

And a hundred times would stir up only more

Of the same, not even close

Braid me into you

Turning, turning, tugging down everything

That keeps us apart

I hear the sounds of clothes tearing

Infinity inviting divinity invading destiny

Only touch me: I am yours

In such full measure

You will never be hungry again.

While I starve quietly remembering you.

Set me free before it happens

Be the hurricane turned aside

Blowing up the coast & out to sea.

And even as I cry “release me!”

It is a word that goes both ways

Into me & out of you

A word that captures my hands

Erodes my will

Take me into tomorrow

For there is nothing left of today

Without you.

Another cigarette

But nothing tamps this down

Not even flame

Can match what I feel

Skipping the record

To only the beat

A drum hidden in the blood

Begins

When you hold out your hand

When I accept a fate

I have run around the earth to escape

Where does this come from?

What did I do that was so terrible

My fate is to wander, whimpering

Or pour words onto paper

Like some Niagara gathering

From every river on earth

To pour over you

Not cascade, not a rain

But a raw force

That brings boulders

Bouncing in a dance

To rip roots

Gouge the edges

Of the watercourse

Until these emerge

In glory & new earth

Where more waters may flow

O, I would hold you breathless

Conquer you like a country

Heretofore unseen

Uninhabited

Lay down with me & start

Close your eyes to receive

But understand

You will not be who you were

When you rise.

What will I do with you?

Nothing that’s not been done before

Tho not to you, perhaps

There is all of me to use

From breath to breast

With each heartbeat

A new sensation

But in the hard, unheard hereafter

What will you do with me

When I cannot do without you?

So let me go

While we survive

To walk apart

No long looks over shoulders

No blushes, for nothing has happened

Except under the surfaces

We threaten with words

I cannot be more naked

If I wore no clothes at all.

 

Rendezvous Denied

Whim, Quim, Desire & Mire

Once upon a time, a tiny bubble rose up to encompass a small, localized starfield: mine. I thought – but thinking is so overrated when the heart is involved. So I acted. I reached & tugged & wrapped, pulled, but he was willing. I see now I should have issued  a disclaimer tho we did discuss some terms & conditions.

What was I asking this man? To help me remember the carnality of being female. Recall that rush of skin on skin, penetration, giving & taking breath together. Waallll, Pilgrim, here’s the thing about embarking upon dreams. That bubble can pop in a second. Fulfillment can remain a breath away or be brought in with one quick inhalation.

At one point, in thinking about the meetup, my feet were yanked back to earth so hard my teeth clacked. I cancelled our assignation; I weakened, I re-assigned our assignation. I wish I could say I was being noble & backing out because there’s a wife involved. But I was horny, he was willing, the wife would “never know.” But I would. There was coughing behind my soul, making it hard to hear my heart.

Our email correspondence was tony. Mine in poetry, his in more the style of a graphic novel. We achieved a high level of sexual tension in words via these exchanges.

But two days before the attenuated appointment, I bailed. I was coming home from Hillsboro after a cleaning gig. I never eat hotdogs, but I had a hardcore yen for a hotdog on a bun, fresh with onions & yellow mustard. So I stopped at a little eatery called “The Missing Link” where hotdogs are the main course. I acquired my tasty treat, miffed at there being a cold bun with it. Why couldn’t the owner, Randy, warm the buns?

I turned on my phone, it interrupted itself falling over message pings. I was happy to see a few from my paramour. Except he was describing his visit to a urologist for a check-up, and the note included details which were definitely TMI. It was a moment of high hilarity on one level…these things only happen to me in the universe…but eating my annual hotdog in company with three emails about his detailed examination by three female med techs of a highly sensitive area. Well, you get the picture.

That bubble popped audibly & wetly. I dropped out of our rendezvous like a meerkat disappearing underground.

My imagination clashed with my tastebuds. O Lord!

His detailed emails were to my sensibilities what a killer frost is to a budding rose. The bubblegum music stopped, the hot dog went back down onto the plate. In a moment, anything written on the slate between us was wiped clean.

There’s an empty space: no sentimental residue. I’m either really good at organic pragmatism or a cold-hearted bitch of the first order. But it’s a qualification of Libra that the knife used to cut cords be sharp enough to stop blood.

There’s always more to a story. These words run from my fingers like notes over a piano’s keys. Somewhere a symphony resides in potential. I hope to one day wind up with a man to play two-hand, a fella whose congruency with me is based on an ability to fulfill a relationship, no holds barred. Someone single.

Oops, there’s another bubble rising!

 

Once-Love: Time for You to Go

I have a hurricane for a heart, I see it from the space between us.

Counterclockwise / widdershins to time

I would turn the clocks back

And that would be easier than loving you now.

I would halt the sea as the next wave rises

So much simpler than trying not to

Write the words I want to say.

I feel tasered: my energy scatters in all directions;

My heart drums out your name

I stop my ears from answer

You cannot open these connections

You dare not flirt

For I will take you down.

And here, at my level, there are only your hands

My mouth…

And Hunger so strong

It hurts.

I cannot begin to use the words to say

What I feel

For the whole world would fall in love with me.

Swept away & far beyond

Where you have any permission to go.

 

“Ethics? The hell with ethics – it’s my life!

I am calm. I dismiss the whole event out of hand.

Then your name on an email steals across the screen

Like a French kiss.

O God, I have been here before.

No Bollywood maiden, nor even matron

But ringing with tiny bells, rolling my kohl-shaped eyes

Slipping upstairs to the bedroom

Wearing only perfume.

Why you? You unlikely beast of passion

I do not even know your whole name

Only you wear holey sweaters.

And your smile replaces where my heart once dwelt.

You test a sentence on me; I am not sure you mean to say

What I hear. I am not sure I hear

What you say.

In the variation:

Wanting so much of one

The other sets up as pain.

My body is stately now, not shapely.

But every cell remembers passion &

That unremembered is easily created.

Tongues & fingertips – even toes to slide

There is silk here & salt where memory is only love

And I am a Fool beyond the boundary of

All the handbooks for the league of decency

Burnt to ash by the simple casual reply I give.

When I have erased six messages I could not send.

 

Don’t hit reply unless you mean it

You cannot understand how easily I will seduce you with words

Bring you to heel, to your unready knees

Or at least the closest chair

When they give way on you

I worry too much about appearances

When all that is remembered are results

I would create a fountain of you

And eagerly pull this into me

My tight interior, ready hips,

I would dance you into me

So you would not see the slack breasts

Or wrinkled thighs

My musk would be your air

And your breath would catch in wonder

To enter me; the holy of holies

The prize for which gods fought in times Before.

Don’t toy with me, don’t send me cute little words

For you are not my unwed lover

To take me in any fashion

But my own.

Beware the simple sentence

That compounds to loving me

For you will never return with words

To me what I will make you feel

You will touch once

For the burn scar can only remedy

By applications of the same

And yes, this is an almighty ego

Against which you bruise

But I will not be other than I am

To Love.

When with her, the only “lie” is to lie down in opening surrender.

For A Fool Too Wise To Be Foolish

O foolish man

Who cannot accept

The hands of a woman

Looking to heal you

O holy man

Set apart from the rest

Singled out by the surprise

Of unexpected Love.

Were I you, I would find the strength

To mount the dream

Galloping so insistently through

Your benumbed psyche.

I would hold to the pommel of

My hand offered in friendship

And admiration

Even beyond their physical application

Bound only by eternal spirit…

O man in my missing dreams

Glimpsed from the corners of

Tearing eyes

What could have been

Or might have been –

Kept asunder by circumstance

By timing

By opportunities unpresented

Unprecedented,

By promises of another lifetime

Extending into these our now-lives.

I would uncross your arms

Set so firmly over your heart

I would face my face

Shining with blessing for you

Accept what is offered

Although it can never be an all from nothing.

 

O dearest man I touched with all my being

I brushed with my beating/beaten heart

O king of my wondering servitude

I would render with tendresse & laughing joy

Were you only to accept

To the limits we must draw

Within the abilities I have to offer,

For these would delimit you also.

 

O wisest man

To back away from my incendiary

Lust for life lived well

In utter expansion &

Manifest truth

It is to your bald being

A covering so soft

It is to your naked skin

A balm upending the

Hardening of your limbs

In resistance.

 

Choose your boundary lines

Implant them well, that nothing

Can reach you

For this seems what attends you best.

 

I fade outside the vision in your eyes

 

Yet I remain, as said before

A good woman looking for a good man

Who seeks a good woman.

And Fate & Faith will not leave me upended

Fallen from the blessing of your regard.

I will not resume invisibility

As my starting place

I am far too exposed to so many surfaces

To step into any background

You may fashion.

I have seared your closing heart

Too well.

 

You may choose to retreat

To cover that which thrives in lightness

But I will never again

Be who I was

For having known the potential of your love.

 

 

 

For Those Who Called in Concern

My Dear Guardian Angel,”R”

Well? What’s up with all the despair stuff?

Here’s this, Miss: Others cannot bear your pain, but you can. You always resurface, bobbing up like a cork with a smiley face. (Ok, sorry for that.)

But you know what I mean.

It is not their life – when they experience a slam-dunk of emotion, they have their own words. You manage to put it out there &, as you said, to share & show your care. Your plea for help will not go unnoticed & it will say for others what they cannot.

Others may witness, but they may not take the wheel of the boat to steer you into harbor, nor push you to do so. They can point, like the Ghost of Christmas Future, but only that.

If your vision is locked down in emotion, you’ll not perceive this at all. That’s perfectly okay. The words are given to you in their order & for their reasons. It is intent, one of the ways you bring about Change.

Yesterday was about letting go. The hotbath, the talk, the feelings, the scouring of Rose’s shop which yielded little to nothing. One small disappointment followed another – losing all your emails…unanswered questions…a crazy day for you, my anal-retentive Child.

Now you can work out that comedy routine you need to polish off for Open Mic this last Friday. Roads are clear & paths opened of obstacles Put up the fliers, hand out the broadsheets, laugh & beat the dream of the Future with a big stick, for it has brightened with the wash of your pain.

For those who console you, give thanks. They will smile to hear of your returned good cheer. This cloud has passed over your sun. you made it sound like the storm of the ages, but all that’s left is shining.

Soon the world changes: it will no longer be edged in darkness. The light will be brighter than you’ve ever seen, for the Father has taken up the polish & the Mother has surrendered her apron to dance.

Think of it as expressing the Community Angst. Give thanks the job of Sin-Eater has changed to writing words!

Don’t limit yourself to one kind of music. The blessing of your words is for all. You are the tool we use to focus, & if others catch fire, so be it. You have not been burned…blessing enough for this midnight.

Be well, my Little Old Lady. You make a fine wordsmith & your craft is sharp with unexpected Light, that all who wish to, see.

“Write on,” to coin the phrase yet again, stamping a new face upon the currency – write on.

Love,

R.

Happy Birthday To Me

Today is important, but only to me. Today I begin to explore my 7th decade on the planet. Today I plan to lay down new trails for more serious exploration, to turn away from old pathways that led me into soul’s harm – imaginary pain, taking offense where none was intended, poor habits of health, seeking not the perfection of the moment in the simple ease of drawing breath.

I might ask what I have learned & jot some notes: wordsmithing is a fine art, worthy of paeans of praise, but only in a literate society. It is a far better art to adjust to where the world lives now & dwell there. Yet in the places I cannot bring myself to gather up & enter – the worlds of Facebook & Twitter & Gab – so much energy surges, pulses, quivers upon itself, turning about & racing free. At times, I like the idea of hive mind; but only when applied to flocks of birds turning as one over the face of sunset. Humans need to unite over more than surface stimulus & unity of heartmind is so much more important than the latest line dance. Although I must admit, one might lead to the other.

Recently, I participated in a play called “Beyond A Reasonable Doubt.” it wore so many attributives: but mostly it was a moment of intense focus wherein all my energy applied. It was triumphant, except where it was not, where I took umbrage at my own mind’s seeming incapacity to remember long passages of mono/dialogue. And at others’ seeming inability to recall these as well. I lost my intensity as I reflected personal frustrations outward.

Recently, I took on an office job, thinking a return to a regular paycheck would remedy some immediate financial needs. Yesterday was my last day there, after six weeks. I simply could not relate to it in the way I once did.

Last night I did a 90-minute massage on a woman with self-diagnosed fibromyalgia. It was a barter that her friend offered to grant her ease from constant discomfort. I observe how the world goes around, kindness touching upon gift.

This morning I awake & seek new habits for myself. Once again free from rigorous scheduling. Momentarily, I scheme upon what I need to acquire, the “this n thats” of a life already out of balance financially. I opt instead for choosing new screen savers. From a wide open, sunny beach, I travel to misty mornings with a far dragon lifting wings upon her hill. This would seem a more fitting approximation of status. Comfort needs to rise above need – & a realization that I already am comfortable precedes acquisition. I offer “so help me, God” not as an affirmation of innocence, but as a softening prayer, for I alone am unable to overcome some ideas which need to be removed from the forefront. I need to turn the kaleidoscope one small twist. I choose to be more giving in the light of other’s gifts. None of us can afford largesse in my circles, yet we all practice it assiduously. Hive mind, indeed.

Lest this all seem too heavy for a promising morning to a day of celebration, I offer up a chuckle at how things turn out. The play was a grand success here in town. Word got out that it was good & we had a great audience turnout – a marvel in this half-horse town. I was lauded at a local restaurant with recognition … both a blush a treat! I’m told our play garnered more than any other offered this year by the local community theatre group. It caused rifts – one stagehand took umbrage at being told not to use her cellphone during performance, sitting in the audience. Obvious? But two people quit over it, while another was castigated by a fourth’s unwarranted accusations. More learning. Here, where a hive mind should have united in pleasure of success lay emotional carnage.

And lest this all be too heavy for a September morning where you live, ponder this: it seems to be a custom that the cast gives each other gifts…so because my character complained loud & long about having to wear manacles during the plea bargain session, our director gifted me with fur-lined handcuffs. Yesterday morning, I hid them in three different places before leaving for work; none safe enough from imagined burglars. I cast mind all day about where to pass these on…I’m not one for holding onto anything I cannot use in the immediate (!) nor intend to use in the near future (!). I dare not bring these to any of our local thrift shops…all goods are brought inside & inspected at these. And “re-gifting” them is far beyond my contact list.

From the sublime to the mundane with the stroke of a pen. Guess I can leave them in the packaging for my heirs to ponder when I’m gone. Guess I’ll continue to live well so as not to have this be soon…I can see me blushing from the afterlife!

Be well upon your days, my friends. Rest easy in your minds & hearts. Bring love to every encounter. Never surrender your ideals for less & always be aware how easy it is to fall in love just a little bit every day.

Peeling the Price Tags Off Life

Dear World, At first I thought these were separate poems…but as I reread them before this posting, I realize they are One Rant About Living Life. The choices are upon you, made from you, about you.

Jump on in!

PEELING THE PRICE TAGS OFF LIFE

One by one,

I scrape at these with ragged fingernails

Burning a torch in daylight

Nothing is as expected

Unless you cast off suffering

Reclaim your power

Lose the knowledge of being poor

To manifest the many lives we know

To be Available.

Stand still for no distractions.

Reach & clamp onto the wrist of the hand

Slipping into your wallet

Pinch it off. Cast it into slag heaps for the fire!

I am entitled; I am no commoner, no serf

Tho my wages are less than modest

My dreams are not

Each day is one more step into an

Unknown of my own making

Mal-informed, uninformed, misinformed

I take no heroes from among false gods

I declare myself immanent

There is no time left for dissimulation!

Our souls have been hacked

Our thoughts are written in the skies

We move in & out of credibility

With impunity; but life is not a fiction role

Where is your truth?

What has happened to your kingdom?

Where is your wealth?

Sucked dry by siege, by sanction

By laws against nature –

YOUR NATURE!

The sins of other’s fathers

Visited upon my ravaged soul

I would claim my own

Had I time to commit them

But I am wound about $9/hour

Still wondering if the coffers will

Ever clink with coin

To pay the owings engineered by other men.

I am in my own word-war, world-war

My own upsurge of independence

Created by simple aging

The four horsemen mill outside

Their minions ring the house

While one smiles, reaching for the doorbell

But I am not going to answer this call

I am no longer either in control of my thoughts

Nor in thought control…

I have moved beyond into a kind of

Lifelike improvisation

Where breath is enough

Where life is enough

Where love is never enough

Since that pushes me into the arms of others

To seek it, bring it, endure it, bow to it,

Embrace it, one from all, from one.

There is no denial in my life anymore

Only very careful choices,

Sifting thru the gemstones to find one that fits

The one that seats in my navel

Upleveling the energy of eternity

Emanating.

The blessing I place on my forehead

Shines on anyone more poor than I

Pulling them into a light

Where they dust off their lapels & fasten a flower.

I will be the one who makes it through

All Systems.

I will be loved, I will make my way

Cannot you see where your life has led you?

The life you waste in watching the lives of others

On a bright & fervent-fevered screen?

Outside, the sun is rising/setting,

Outside the skies dance with moons & stars

The air will feed you; the light is nourishment

Why would you forego this for pretending?

It is so seductive to live your own life

Free from corporate lies, medical rumors,

It is a privilege to worship the gods of my living

The angels of my choices bear me up

Out of abandonment

Into the fullest expression of life I can be.

I spend no time following the false

I worship no idles (sic)

My life moves forward of its own volition

Pulling me forward, pushing me upward.

Curtains open every day to new stages,

Stepping into palaces where I meet

The leadership of life to whom I will not give my power.

My life isn’t made of falseness

I recognize the limits of my godhood

I acknowledge the fierceness of my warrior-self

Fully. I juggle words like knives

Some do make me bleed,

None make me weep.

I have been known to make stupid choices

But only by others: to me they validate

Existence.

My life is defined by the next new pen I buy

(Herein my craft, my croft)

My boundaries gallop beyond any distance my aged eyes might see

For where the world ends

My imagination begins.

My rogue nature emerges

In the house I once divided

Yet pull back together now

The redeemers have entered

My social circle

We join hands & raise them to the sky

No longer silent, but voices raised collectively

In a song to rock the world from lullaby to

Willful march,

Be you fruitful in your thoughts; it will

Ring the world

Will take us out of comfortable orbit

Into prophecy & foretelling

Where the story ends well

Where the lovers get their Kiss

Where the wars subside into the very ground

They so bloodily seeded

The deceivings of the users

Thinking themselves possessed of forked lighting

Will instead experience my laser

Of shattering power

My brain will emerge

Through my heart

I will love the world back into being.

The Truth is not afraid of you.

Why do you fear it in return?

Your soul has never shirked from duty

To shepherd you into divinity

To reveal your god-nature

The certainty of this

Is writ upon the granite cores of worlds

Your parallel thoughts

Wrinkle stars with ponderance

The light of your being alone

Has stifled hunger, seeded worlds, changed a universe

In its course

The life you bring to life

Is unbelievable

Were it not to be believed by simple existence

Keep moving forward, keep holding forth

Your heart, keep offering

Your being to service

For everyone is more needy than you

By virtue of not being you.

With love,

Carol Borsello          9.15.2018

http://www.carolborsello.blog