Sweet...

Kiss me and whisper sweet words
I want to hear them slither past your lips
You want me in your life, you need me here...
I like the way the words dance pass your tongue
They make sweet music in my ear
Reverberate to my core
Tell me what I want to hear, to give you want you want to feel
The quiver of my lips, the hush of my breath, moistness of my skin
Pulse of my desire
Say it, you know I want to believe all that you say
You know I want to cede to your deceit
It's all I can do to hold on to the dream of what was, what could be, what might be
Kiss me, softly, deeply, tell me you love me
Whisper those empty words full of meaning
Sweet nothings.

Yawn

I was sitting at a meeting listening to the most protracted introduction by an "esteemed" colleague and could not help but find myself distracted, so I scribbled this:

WHAT THE FUCK! Shhhhhh!
Quiet the voice outside my head
God damn it, Why
So unnecessary and irrelevant at this time
What is the purpose of this diatribe
Perhaps diatribe is too strong
But this dude seems to be speaking in rounds
Oh my god, I want to sleep
You can see the looks of what the fuck on peoples face
You can almost read their minds
Saying in unison, dude please shut up


This is another thing that happens when I'm bored, I write shit.

See me

Peel away the bravado, what do you see
A man, a human, simply me
No ole talk, no stories of notches on belt
No ego, no pump, no fluff
Look carefully, you'll see me, really
A man who wants love, attention, care
I'm not that different from you my dear
Show me you want me, you need me right here
Whisper sweet nothings, allay my fear
Peel back the layers and uncover what's there
Not just a name that goes with this face
But the human, the man occupying this space

Thousand words

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That price for that pizza - it's easy to understand why there are so many fat Americans

Somnolence - the crash

She came to him in a moment of weakness
Said what he needed to hear at a time he wanted to hear
Those sweet words from her lips, promising pleasures and limitless bliss
She stroked his cheek and kissed his eyes, gently each one at a time
Her voice soothed him like a lullaby
Seduction, lyrics, gambits and tricks, her game was on, he was growing weak
Slowly, she is taking control, over his mind, body and soul
He surrenders a minute, and takes her all in, victory, glory, finally, she wins
Convincing she was of what she thought best, just a split second to let his eyes rest
Crumpling metal was the sound that he heard, just before he careened off the road
Conscious now, shaken and bruised, he crawled from the wreck all confused
What was he thinking when he listened to her
Standing there watching the heap, stunned and grateful, unable to speak
Thankful for life that was almost lost, those forty winks came at quite a cost

Her World

She loves the way she hates him, she's unsure that she does
Her looks of disgust, all muddled up with lust, angered her feelings won't fade to dust
Recollections of moments and times, rewind and pause, replays through her mind
Too bitter to smile or offer a hi, scared to admit what she feels inside
He touched her too deep, he opened her eyes, to emotions so dormant, she struggled to hide
She hates that he made her feel loved, vulnerable to all she hid in her vault
Now that he's gone, she returns to her, take back control and play by her rules
The thoughts still linger, what has she done, these games that she plays can not be won

Connect the dots

I had a thought to post a couple days ago - I'm at a bit of a loss now for why I never got around to doing it. I'm reading this book right now called the Secret History of the World - my nephew suggested it to me; he got me with the title - it sounded rife with conspiracy theories. I'm far from done with it, but there was something that stuck out in my reading so far - the notion of thoughts, more specifically how difficult it is to hold on to ones thoughts and convey them at times - of course the book is better at laying this down.

I pondered on that thought for a minute, and it resonated with me some what, the understanding (at least for me) that once one tries to extract a thought(s) from the mind and express it in a visible tangible media such as this, the thought changes. It is fluid, that is not to say that if I was thinking about birds, and attempted to write/express that thought I think/write about dogs - no.

For me the way my thought(s) begin in my head is rarely how I begin to express it/them on paper or this white screen; my train of thought in my head often gets derailed when I begin writing - but at some point I get back on track, because the general idea remains. 

Somewhere between the inner workings of my mind and the medium of expression, my thought gets kidnapped for a subliminal ransom to be paid by my conscious mind. Case in point, the original thought for this blog posting, which returns to me three paragraphs later was connectedness. Yes, the book so far has touched on that also; it reminded me of the documentary, what the bleep do we know - down the rabbit hole - which triggers the thought that I should email my nephew the link to the what the bleep do we know website. Again I digress. Right where was I, yes, connectedness, some in the school of new age mysticism say that we are all connected in the universe (not merely by the religious dogma of choice, but on a spiritual and metaphysical plain) - the idea may sound a bit cookie, which would make me a bit neurotic, because I believe it.

We have devolved to beings who don't pay much attention to their sixth sense, that intuition, the voice that nags from within, at your core, to do or not do something, or check up on somebody, etc. A week or so ago my thoughts kept being interrupted by images of an acquaintance - this happened for at least two consecutive days, each time of course I dismissed them because, 1.) I didn't know why she would even pop into my head; and 2.) I didn't want her in my head. On the third night, rather morning, I dreamt about her, we were somewhere having a cordial conversation. I remember waking up thinking, there is something wrong with this, not only has she invaded my thoughts during the day, now she is looming in my sub-conscious, what the hell. So I figured I would quiet the voices in my head and send her a brief email to find out how she was doing - to which I a received a curt reply, "fine thanks".

Ok, wow, so much for showing concern. Anyway, sa feb, fast forward a couple days ago while speaking to a mutual friend I found out that around the same time (I have not been able to pin down the day) that I had this nagging feeling and made contact with her - her brother died. Damn, I thought to myself, that's probably what that invasion of my cerebral was about. Which brought me to the thought of us being connected in the universe, perhaps, it was after her brother died and I sensed her grief (though I doubt it), or maybe it was a premonition, I don't know - whatever it was I was stunted at the occurrence. 

Suffice to say other than that connection on the astral plains of my subconscious, there has been no connection between us, some things are best left in the confines of the mind. But that experience has bolstered my thoughts of the unconventional, the unspoken - the teachings of the school of mystics; no that does not make me crazy - I just believe all there is to learn in this life can not be from conventional text and wisdom, we have yet to uncover the truth about us and the power of our thoughts. It's no wonder that self-fulfilment according to Maslow is so difficult for most to achieve.