Don’t Laugh

 

Don’t Laugh

don’t laugh

if I say your body

is a temple of love

I’m not saying my whole world

turns around you

or turns around the body

of any man

 

I’m not seeking confirmation

agreement or even approval

of what I say

about your body

holding it in my arms

as I feel you pull them

closer around you

that touch of flesh

that tentative kiss

are all rituals forms

without them

others I may encounter

aren’t as sacred

 

don’t laugh

I know how corny

romantic this sounds

the images are as stale as

communion wafer

take and eat

for this is my body

 

what harm is there

in not being original every time

I say something about your body

your tongue

the ride to satisfaction

each time you arrive

I build this moment

add to this memory

that I can retreat to

when you aren’t here

not to worship

but to reflect upon

Occasionally I write something so romantic it is hard to admit that I am in fact such a romantic. It’s easy for me to share in-your-pants raunch but to write a piece so direct, sexy (without being explicit) &  kind of silly is almost fresh. The saṃghādisesas is about building a monastery so the jump to a temple isn’t such a big one.

Guys I see often have body-image issues to the degree that if I say how much I like their body they are embarrassed or react as if I’m saying nice things to get my way, or to thank them for letting them get their way but as the piece states: I’m not seeking confirmation  agreement   or even approval. I’m just stating a fact so they don’t think there’s only one or two body parts I’m interested in.

The tentative kiss is a reference to an actual person (see The Mindful Kiss https://wp.me/p1RtxU-2Or). I doubt if I would go as far as to tell anyone their ‘body is a temple of love’ because that sort of imagery as compliment has become so trite as to be a joke & not at all sincere. To tell someone you love their body is as far as we usually go. That florid romantic poetry stuff is lost in this age of irony.

 

I had fun writing this piece & didn’t have to work hard at it either. It wrote itself when I surrendered to the temple of love. A surrender that I have no regret in making, either in this piece, or when I have that actual temple in front of me.

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Gunning For Fidelity

Gunning For Fidelity

what are you looking for

fidelity or ownership

fidelity as long as you are interested

but if the other party

should be unfaithful

then you can gleefully

slip off the chains of fidelity

blaming them for betraying you

for being the first one

because you have the power

only you

the other party must surrender all

for unity to be real

 

what are you looking for

commitment that serves your pleasures

as long as you permit it

as long as they satisfy

as long as they never look beyond

the scope of your pleasures

until you get bored

because they would never get bored

because if they did

then they really didn’t love you

they really weren’t as committed as you

life is so unfair

because you never met someone

who can live up

to the true fidelity you want

no one is as capable of it as you are

so you keep seeking

keep being disappointed

in each new opportunity

that disappoints

 

it’s always their fault

for lacking the deep spiritual values

you hold like a gun to their heads

waiting for the first flinch

as an excuse to escape

This is the 5th of the saṃghādisesas. Keep in mind these pieces are prompted by the saṃghādisesas, they are not explanations or expansions of them. This is a theme I have blogged about before in The Fragility of Fidelity. Stepping out of the lock-step of what relationships are often lets them last longer and become deeper and more satisfying.

 

So this piece is a variation on a theme for me, not breaking new territory. I’ve done reading on the history of romance, sexuality and marriage. What is currently assumed as the ‘norm’ comes more from idealized fiction, drama and poetry than it does less than ideal reality. We judge relationships according to a laugh track, good lighting or the right background music.

There is also a tendency to judge things by what we decided when we were twelve or thirteen and as we get older don’t even questions those formative decisions. At that age not only do we feel vulnerable but that first love is a permanent love. Our first falling out of love becomes a warning never to be that open again or a reason to seek revenge on everyone who shows an interest.

Is it love or is it obsession? If you think about me all the time, can’t get me out of your mind, not somebody until the right someone loves you – I may be flattered but I prefer men with lives of their own not one defined by my emotional responses to them. To last it has to be more than hormones. Lust can be a useful starter but it can run out of energy if that’s all there is to the relationship. There has to be chocolate too 🙂


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That Tone Of Voice

Chalk It Up To Experience

‘don’t use that tone of voice

young man’

grade seven

the visiting maths teacher

the one the guys in the class

called blubber boobs

oh oh blubber boobs this afternoon

hope she can see my homework

over those blubber boobs of hers

 

she came to our school three times a week

Miss Dunlop

we also had a Mrs. DeMoine

who came twice a week

to teach us French

we called her Madam to her face

and Mizdammit behind her back

Miss Dunlop was another story

with her small waist

and gigantic breasts

 

she was berating me

I hadn’t written my homework

in the strict form she required

I can’t remember my reply

nor can I recall my tone of voice

perhaps I had slipped into

that school yard sexual intonation

we used when talking about her

erasing the blackboard with her boobs

there’s chalk on them there hills

 

I stood silent before her

after she ordered me

not to use that tone of voice

I couldn’t even apologize

not knowing how to control

how I sounded

I did know it was pointless

to ague with her

like my mother

winning wouldn’t get me anywhere

all I’d prove

was that I was a smart mouth

not that I was smart

 

Miss Dunlop taught me well

it’s better to be thought stupid

than it is to prove a pointless point

This is the 4th of the saṃghādisesas. It practically wrote itself. School memories are usually great to revisit, even the unpleasant ones. This one was more embarrassing than unpleasant. Like many of these  ‘true to life’ pieces it is a composite of different moments as I struggled through school. Not all of them were in Grace seven.

In Cape Breton many schools had travelling special teachers for things like maths, art, music & French. Usually female, young & sometimes pretty. Each brought different routines, different disciplinary tactics – that usually involved getting one of the male teachers to tell us to behave. The guys would always joke about these teachers breasts or lack of them. The bigger the boob the greater the respect for some reason.

I was told, more than once, to watch the tone of my voice, but many of the guys got the same command too. As I say here I just didn’t know what was meant as I couldn’t hear myself talking and once I was told to watch my tone I couldn’t hear anything else for at least ten minutes. Being singled out never helped my focus or ability to absorb information.

Being made so self-conscious opting for silence was the only choice I could think of at the time. Confrontation would only result in one of the male teachers, or the vice-principal, being called for to keep us all in line. The vice-principal was prone to giving the entire class detention not just the ‘smart mouth.’ So keeping my mouth shut was as much due to peer pressure than anything else.

One result was that I became very dismissive of my actual voice. I hated to hear recordings of myself. If you’ve been one of the fortunate ones who have seen me perform you know I got over that 🙂

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

 

Chalk It Up To Experience

samprules2

Started a new set of prompts – I love lists of things – this one will prove to be endlessly productive for another couple of years – 227 Rules For Monks. This is another of  The 13 saṃghādisesas. I’ll probably be including a version of this one in my March feature – https://www.facebook.com/events/149545348875710/

26drawersorange07

*3 Not to have an ill-mannered conversation with a woman.

Chalk It Up To Experience

‘don’t use that tone of voice

young man’

grade seven

the visiting maths teacher

the one the guys in the class

called blubber boobs

‘oh oh blubber boobs this afternoon

hope she can see my homework

over those blubber boobs of hers’

 

she came to our school three times a week

Miss Dunlop

we also had a Mrs. DeMoine

who came twice a week

to teach us French

we called her Madam to her face

and Mizdam behind her back

Miss Dunlop was another story

with her small waist

and gigantic breasts

 

she was berating me

I hadn’t written my homework

in the strict form she required

I can’t remember my reply

nor can I recall my tone of voice

perhaps I had slipped into

that school yard sexual intonation

we used when talking about her

erasing the blackboard with her boobs

there’s chalk on them there hills

 

I stood silent before her

after she ordered me

not to use that tone of voice

I couldn’t even apologize

not knowing how to control

how I sounded

I did know it was pointless

to ague with her

like my mother

winning wouldn’t get me anywhere

all I’d prove

was that I was a smart mouth

not that I was smart

 

Miss Dunlop taught me well

it’s better to be thought stupid

than it is to prove a pointless point

26drawerspurple08

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bluechalk01

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Ten More Stops

samprules2

Working through a new set of prompts – I love lists of things – this one will prove to be endlessly productive for another couple of years – 227 Rules For Monks

The 13 saṃghādisesas

2 Not to touch a woman.

19drawersred04

Ten More Stops

she struggled

snuggled

into the subway seat

next to me

pulling her arms close

gave me a perplexed glance

my knees were tight together

my shoulder bag on my lap

my own arms pressed to my waist

my ebook open and balanced

on top of my shoulder bag

taking up as little space as I could

 

‘do you mind’ she muttered

I pulled my feet closer

‘I said do you mind!’ she was angry

I chose to ignore her

I couldn’t take up less space

she elbowed me sharply

knocking the ebook askew

it wasn’t my fault

the seats were so small

 

‘what an asshole’ she said loudly

‘keep your hands off me’

people looked at us

I shrugged

my hands were clearly

holding my ebook & my shoulder bag

in place

 

more people got on to

the already overcrowded car

the a/c wasn’t working

it was hot   stinky

I had ten more stops to go

and this bitch was muttering

‘fucking asshole men

think they can get away

with pawing women

whenever they want’

 

I decided I didn’t need this aggravation

put my ebook into my shoulder bag

pulled myself out of the seat

indicated it empty

to a woman much bigger than me

then watched the face

of the angry woman

as she was squeezed even tighter

and

for some strange reason

it felt good

when the large lady said

‘move a little   do you mind’

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Come

samprules2

Started a new set of prompts – I love lists of things – this one will prove to be endlessly productive for another couple of years – 227 Rules For Monks

Not to deliberately emit sperm.

12fence01

Come

oops

you should have warned me

I couldn’t control myself

it’s a mess

I have to wash off right away

we can’t cuddle in this puddle

it’s sticky cold icky

too icky

it stains

it feels so good

then gets to be disgusting so fast

to talk about the taste of his lips

is romanic elevating

but to talk about the taste of his come

is degrading

reducing sex to fluid emissions

just isn’t proper it’s déclassé not polite

not done in good society

not suitable for dinner table conversation

we can talk about the death toll in Orlando

but not about the oral pleasures in Orlando

the loss of life is elevating

the swallowing of come is common

stupid

lacks intellectual substance

only men with base instincts

would enjoying that sort of smutty talk

about semen

about coming

the shame of ejaculation

the subtext for sex-a-phobia

it’s okay if we kiss

but not if we come

love at first sight

not love at first shot

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