The Theory of Tenderness

Every valid theory
is a beam of light with its promises
and every valid theory
is a black whole with its lack of fingers and hands.
Theory of Tenderness
like a beam of light
keeps your hope going
but eats you up from inside
with its unrealty
'til all of your flesh is gone
and only a shadow remains.
Only when Tenderness
grows fingers and hands
and really touches
you know
that no theory can be valid
until it has become
a sensual thing.
And how powerful then!

A Lover

I once had a lover
he loved me well
he loved me all night
and he loved me more in the morning
and after he'd loved me
he held and he kissed me
little tender kisses
with his small mouth
all accross my face
and all accross my chest
and with all those kisses
I never got any rest

On Sex

Whatever we do
we mustnt talk about sex
because noone really does it do they?
noone really wants it do they?
ladies dont possibly get horny now do they?
isnt it a luxury, a hard earned pay off
for loyalty?

May be it is time to come out honestly
and declare to myself:
Sex is great!
I want lots more of the brilliant mind blowing thing!

Much Lost, Much Gained and Much Remains

Who cast it and how
we might never know
but the spell is broken
and I can tell you now
that what you do
and what you say
can no longer make me hurt
hopelessly
except if I
momentarily
forget what its like
to be Human

A Moment of Clarity

It never is that we dont know what we want
It often is that we are very confused
thinking we dont know what we want
while in truth we are exasperated
that circumstances or people in our lives
wont deliver us what we want
no matter how much we want them to!
Like these Digestive biscuits
really do not satisfy
like a hot muffin straight out of the oven
white chocolate melting, berries and coconut...
But I eat the dry thing
and I mumble that this will do
while I winge about the cold morning air
and the walk to the bakery...
Do I need to spell out the answer???
Off your arse and start walking!

When Saying Good Bye

Where do our lovers go
Once they're done with us?
First they go away
taking their bodies with them.
Out of our reach.
Then in some years
these wrinkles, these eyes,
these hands, these thighs
all once so cherished and kissed
and been to all sorts of mysterious places
will come to rest.
Our lovers, they too will die.

And what happens to that
which was once so enormous
that it once filled the whole world?
And what happens to that
which once seemed indestructible?
And whos cheek will their
very last breath rest upon?

Gotta Show Up!

Where is the door to that room
with mirrors
where I can see
all of Me
unfragmented?
Why do I linger- hand on the handle-
it burns in my hand,
yet I have no strength
to open it.
I can taste myself
on the tip of my tongue
yet when I need to speak me
I am mute
and I choke.
All of me is here-
in all my disguises-
and under a cloak of
invisibility.

Gotta show up.