Besides recovering from NaNo, finding the right shirt for my Noir feature and putting on extra layers for the cold, I’ve been decking the halls of my house for the festive season. First up were the Christmas lights – around windows & doors plus some on our back steps. In fact those go up first – Who sees them? I do when I look out at night & early in the morning. I guess the neighbours across the lane way as well. But they are my favourites & often stay up till valentine’s to dispel the gloom of winter 🙂
I’m one of those who enjoys the season, sure I get tired of the music, the endless sales but such is life. I have the lights and tinsel to revel in. I love it that straight families do things to their homes that would make a drag queen blush.
I really love the lights anywhere, everywhere; street level windows or forty floor balconies. They are the one gift people give without thinking. Anyone looking can enjoy them. There isn’t someone watching to see who is looking & turning them off if they disapprove. When I look I don’t care who put them. Freely given and happily accepted.
Dec 8 – Sunday – Featuring – Festive Trash at Cabaret Noir
Dec 26 – Thursday – hosting – The Beautiful & The Damned
June 6-8, 2014 – attending – Bloody Words
digging in the archives I found a piece about decking the body
Guardian
my looks stand guardian
on how I am perceived
stand in the way as barrier
against std
against the heartbreak
of being used and cast aside
my looks
if I could cast them out
no
rather if I could recast them
less paunch
more abs
well that seems to be the only change
no wait
there’s that intense look
that gives me
a serious scary appearance
that needs to be worked on
but not sure what work
so spirits
allow what looks I have
to be the attractor
not the detractor
let this package
have a longer shelf life
let me find
the ones who desire
the contents
desire to merge with the contents
I know my looks
that stand guardian
cannot be altered
the culture will not be changed
for me
for nature has a reason
the right face
the wide hips
each little bit in the odd puzzle
of the perpetuation of the species
and even when
it is same sex
the same small cues apply
for what we seek
what we mate with
for even a few hours
I live with that
and try to break it down
try to break out of it
but cannot
for those same hidden cues
are also within me
as much as I pretend
to be other wise
though
my cues aren’t standard
they are buried in there all the same
the right face
the right hands even
one can undo the other
the moment of opportunity
can over ride
a life time of idealization
and time after time
it happens
I dream about the the right cologne
the one with the pheromone
that acts on others
that’ll make them respond
without the right visual cues
the right pitch of
vanilla and strawberry liquorice
good enough to eat
one has to be where one can be smelt
coffee shop? disco floor?
so even when the right combo of scents
denim leather
have been prepared and applied
there’s always the other factors
that take over
the bad lighting the loud music
the disinfectant from the urinal
now there’s a smell that reaches out
beyond it ceramic bounds
takes over takes the allure
away from nearly anything
the opportunity
isn’t enough anymore
and I know every time
I find myself the next day
wondering how it is
I’ve done all the right moves
been present open aware
that I have came back to here
the lone
but not lonely
the singular
in front of the mirror
where I see
the reflection of my looks
that remain guardian of the heart