Become the Cookie!

2008-10-10 15.57.32

It isn’t ‘either/or’ it is ‘and/and’.

That is something people sometimes don’t understand about me. Most do but most are not trying to marry me. The very few who want me all to themselves, for some reason, miss the point that there are people in the world I love and the choice is not ‘me or everyone else’, the choice is ‘me AND everyone else.’

I have been in long term marriages and relationships with people who defined the meaning of ‘relationship’ as ‘either/or’. I was that was once myself and imposed a vast loneliness upon myself thinking that was the right thing to do.

It isn’t.

What happens when it is either/or is the eventual growth of dependency, martyrdom and, in the end, actual dislike. People in healthy relationships have ‘others friends’ and having those friends does not mean they are cheating and much of the time those friends are the same gender and they are not gay OR lesbian.

Human beings need approbation from each other. We need good times and a circle of love to live in. We need more than one friend and even, sometimes, if we are very lucky, more than one ‘bestie.’

I am not gonna lie and say I am perfect. I play here every once in a while and those people have respect and they KNOW that the ‘love’ that we have is based on a solid understanding of reality. I don’t stalk their pages to see what girls they like and, actually, I don’t chat that much with them either and they know I don’t cam and they respect the kind of person I am and I try to give that back and if I KNOW someone is married I step back.

But the last couple of years I hardly do that anymore either. Only once in several months. I am getting older and less interested in that stuff as anything more than ‘word games for the brain.’ A friend from a long time ago taught me this term, ‘mental masturbation.’ I didn’t do it with you either kid because I just couldn’t. I ‘lost it’ and did that with someone a little more mature. Someone who understands he and I are never going to be together and has no expectations of me and treats me like a good friend still.

It’s weird because being online is kind like interactive TV. You might really have a crush on someone and, in the old days, you got to stare at a movie or a poster and the only interaction was the one you had with yourself. Now you can go online and find ‘hotties’ with cams set up that do nothing all day but ‘interact’ and the chances of the one who is in love with that girl (and guys too these days!) will get that one for a life partner are about as probable as getting to marry Leonardo DiCaprio or Angelina Jolie.

It gets a little bit ridiculous but we can’t help ourselves even if we have self control. The world might see someone who never does anything wrong and that one might be carrying around ‘Justine’ in their head and you would never know it. That brings us back to what I started. It can never be, in the real world of real people, ‘either/or’. No matter HOW MUCH you want that big cookie all to yourself SOMEONE is gonna bite it while you aren’t looking. That is life.

That big cookie is love and everyone loves that big cookie and if you are gonna love people you are gonna be sharing that big cookie with the whole world and that big cookie might have sex in it but it really has nothing at all to do with sex and everything to do with basic human needs. The thing that makes people the most loved and envied is not how much of that cookie they can eat but whether or not they have the ability to ‘become the cookie.’

Ragged Holes

Tonight I dance alone again
Fantasies I create
Illusions so perfect
Like a ballerina spinning
On a music box
The metal prongs
Twinkling out the tune
Plucked from ragged holes
Stabbed into a circle
I call my soul
You will be here with me
Although I am alone
There is no sorrow now
You are as free
As every note played
From every flute
On every lonely hill-side
Those holes sing
Every time the cold winds
Blow through
Your life breath playing
Music for me to dance to



Time went on
Little children

Playing in the dirt
Bright white grins
Were left behind
Old skins shed

Innocence lost

To hold on to a dream
You once saw

A moment
In a flower
Time goes on
Leaving behind

Strength and pride
Upraised chins
Time keeps going
Bodies fail and age

Heavy as rocks
Try to hold on to Life
Time stops short


Whisper to my heart child
Bright feather-fall
Inside my heart
I am so green and new
Round eyes staring at blue
Oh how birds sang then
To the me that still looks out
These old windows
Dreaming of red dirt fields
Blue and yellow white
Grey scissor-tails
How the aria of my soul
Flies like those kites
We made from spray paints
News papers and rolls of twine


Taste the way the land feels
How Nature shows you It’s alive
Hold the earth in open arms
Eat the sunshine and the rain
This is not real this now
Not one moment
What is real was is and ever will be


Cosmic Main Street

From the years of the beginning called my heart
Searching for impossible dreams
This journey aims ever at it’s start
Vagabond soul curls anywhere warm and sweet
Always looking up for angels wings
Protecting me here on Cosmic Main Street
Sitting on a curb near the corner of Retrospection
Knowing I will doze a moment
Held close to your resplendent affection
For an instant in your distant universe we spin
Outside of these dimensions
I had to travel to find you my soul twin
Hours you have fired the hand that scribes
Poor words to tell a story
Of the quest one heart seeks and confides

Under The Closed Door…

…a slice of light shines from the long white hall with it’s shiny, black eyeball watchers embedded in the bottom of the upper floor. Under the door and through the light I escape the glassy black eyes and their impersonal stare. I rise to the sky-light in Winter’s still moonless night cold humid cloud fog feels more dense than the glass whose atomic structure yields to my unsubstantial existence.

You have called out to me.

This form feels no cold.

I am weightless darkness moving across the earth upon the winds. The updraft of a stray trade wind throws me aloft into the jet stream. 300 to 400 miles per hour I speed as the jet snakes past oceans and continents. I will reach you before you wake up, look in the mirror, and douse dark curls with water and look at your black eyes in the small mirror above the sink. I soar East and the sun has not yet shed a ray into the nascent skies.

I feel you. You are wearing that semi-circular torque around you…drawing me into your atomic structure…

…into your dream.

“I have come.”

You lay on a green hillside sprinkled with tiny white star-flowers. Your lashes brush your high cheek bones soaking in the sun before it arrives and the call to prayer breaks the hush of dawn. Your face smiles with the peace of the moment.

I look at her through barely opened eyes. This has always been a talent of mine: to call these creatures of the wind. She is small and fair like the flowers. Snow white curls blowing in the mountain wind framing a child’s face. She is one whose age means nothing. I say nothing. She stands there and moves, carefully, until she casts a shadow on my face and I can see her more clearly.

Green eyes. Slightly pointed ears. She does not look centuries old.


She moves over the earth without touching it and sits beside me. She lays her hand upon my chest and understands I am also not human…not in this place. Her hand is small and her touch is like feathers. Without words she lays down next to me and curls up very close. I hold her easily with one arm. The breeze blows her soft blue dress over the hairs on my arms tickling them and making my skin laugh. I can feel that she feels, too, the ground move beneath us. 

What a lovely creature it is who called me, who holds me so tightly to himself. Still he seems not to have seen me but I know him too well. This world is only overlaid upon the one we live in. I slide my hand under his leather jacket and feel the hairs under the cotton shirt making it stand away from his body. I feel his skin laugh under the material. Birds fly overhead speaking their chirrrrrr chirrrrrr language and somewhere drums beat.

Maybe it is our hearts that sound like thunder in counter-point?

The wind makes trees sing with the birds and the drums of our hearts make a music beyond the sound of humanity. My hand climbs to his face. It needs no mind to make it move. He still says nothing. Over the short beard my fingers stray to his lips. I feel a thread spin through my ether as he takes my fingertip between his lips and starts what I can imagine…

…I slowly pull away and cup his ear in one palm, curving it so that the wind sings louder.

“It sings for you beautiful one.”

His eyes open. Within them I see all the light and good things to my darkness. He is Day to my Night…Joy to my Sorrow…mirror of my soul.

“So it always is that darkness comes clothed with light…”

“So it always is that light creates the shadows of Time…”

Inside I become outside and outside she becomes inside. Sweet smells come from grass the colour of her eyes crushed for the sake of Love. 

Now both his arms encircle me as the sky does the planet and he pulls me on top on his long slender body until my arms frame his face like a pale halo and his long dark lashes sweep upwards, white teeth flashing into a smile. His eyes hold me like his arms hold me and the blue dress from the sky flows over his legs while my knees rest on either side of him, barely touching the ground. Green grass tickles my toes. The world sings a chorus of birds and hearts and the voices of the trees.

Fierce joy rises up in me. I want this one I have called to me; to serve and protect and love. One hand moves without thought to the soft white curls dancing in the breeze and cups and tangles and her sea green eyes close as she gives her mouth to me. Her hands tangle in my hair as well.

His mouth tastes like well water. I am thirsty for this kiss! Sing birds that fly! Sing for this love! Beat drums! I feel the love he cannot say with words pressed against my belly.

The first ray of sun reaches it’s greedy fingers over the pregnant earth. Azan is called.

I awake in the middle of the night.

My arms are empty.

Out There…

…somewhere I know there are people making love, watching movies with the kids, and maybe even making snow angels at night.

I am alone here but, somehow, all of the smiles and emotions of everyone I love are like the panoramic background of my thoughts. I feel you hugging, fighting, silently angry, laughing. and living real life. I get to do more of that all the time.

One of these days I will be like them too. Already it had started. Only weekends and holidays now do I have the option of ‘all day’ to choose from in between tasks and doctor visits and pain. Soon there will be more reasons to be gone from the boxed life.

The other day I cried until I made myself sick because I was busy being very very tired from living real life and when I found out I missed a precious friend I only got to talk to twice this year I went berserk and then stopped and wondered: “do they miss me that much?”

There is a feeling of guilt to leaving those who have come to rely on your friendship and company and a feeling of loss when you miss them because, even though people say the box is not real and the people in it are not real they ARE real. There are real hands typing real words on a keyboard somewhere with real feelings, hopes and dreams.

I can’t wait to start swim therapy.

I will be gone one or two hours every evening they have it. I can’t walk very well but surely I can swim! It means I may miss people. I have to learn not to cry over the precious ones.

12,613 Kilometers Away…(dedicated to three leaves of the same green)

(Song by Jason Mraz)

…on the other side of the world is this amazing person.

Yeah this is a love story but it is not a typical love story about a man and a woman and how they fall in love on the net and get married and all that…this is a different kind of love story: the kind where one human mind falls in love with another human mind.

I know you love me. I love you too like corn loves to pop. In real life we are both realists and we know how things are. You love your homeland. You are not looking for a ‘free ticket’ out of your beloved mountains and I am not a ‘cougar-hag.’

We have been online friends for over five years now and we were close from the start.

We are soul twins.

We don’t bother about the ‘if this and if that’ because ‘if’ never happened and we don’t waste time offering each other sloppy dreams and lies. I can do that and I have and you probably can too but that is not how we are with each other. I only know that when you message me, from 12613 kilometers away, my whole world has a smile drawn on it like a kindergarten kid would finger paint on life with ice-cream.

I tried to write romances about you and end them where anything more than what we have now begins. You are holy somehow. You are like an angel and I am terrified to make you any more than that. I would rather bask in your presence and enjoy the soul that sits next to mine on this cosmic freeway we wrecked upon and talk about things that never happen on earth…

…only in dreams.

We we stop and sit on the side of the cosmic freeway it feels a little bit like heaven must feel. My shell I inhabit, my world, and everything in it fades and is replaced with the beautiful green things in your mind. In your mind I have walked mountain trails and I have smelled the Eucalyptus trees. I have watched the clouds form rain and smelled the earth across the pregnant stomach of the planet we share. The constant pain I live with goes away and I smile until my face cracks.

I have written stories with you. I have written ideas for you and made groups for you. I have broken photos of you until the crazy beauty of your soul came though and hit people between the eyes. I have taught you language and you have taught me courage. I supported you in every dream and plan until they became reality and you thought you sat next to greatness not realizing that only the great can sit there.

I have shared parts of me with you that no one else on earth knows about and was shocked you still loved me even though you knew those things. I have missed you when you were gone and posted this to you the entire year I heard from you only once. You are so beautiful wearing cinnamon and smiling. I thought you were a marine from Texas for the longest time but I know now you are international in the scope of your mind. I love you so much. You cannot imagine how much.

Over these years you have been my soul, my heart, and my brain. I would not trade any of you for the travesty of what the world names as ‘love.’ I would keep you forever young, forever beautiful, and forever a part of those great people who inhabit the grandest halls of my mind.

You are LOVE!

Someday in Paradise

He is in the distance but I know it is him. Behind him snow drapes the high peaks like the hairs of old men. In this green valley we walk towards each other, our feet crushing rainbows of spring flowers. My feet thrill to the feel of long, soft uncut grass and energy from mountains shoots through my legs and I start to run…and see you start to run towards me.

Huge gasps of air until my head is high as the clouds below us just were the tree line and meadows start. Does the hawk above see us running? Blue so high almost black but my eyes see you with cinnamon linen snapping over each stride. Closer you come and you smile with your eyes creased and beard slopped over one shoulder.

What do I look like to you in this world beyond worlds?


We will meet. After years and lives and time is gone we will meet. I have waited for you a lifetime. The love I could never find in this life. 

My body flies over the heather and I feel my hair, now long again, streaming behind me like the soft skirt I embroidered with flowers of every shade, with my own hands. 


I cry your name and I think you run faster but time is not fast enough or it is too fast or it does not matter because you will meet me here in this paradise. Your arms reach out and as we meet the momentum makes us tumble, in a spin, to the soft turf. It breaks our fall. I find myself looking down at your glowing smile. Each of your hands is on one of my shoulders, holding me up while a smooth your long brown beard and comb it with my fingers. Still you have said nothing. Only your eyes have joy.

“What do I look like to you? I can only see you. I cannot see myself.”

I am resting with one palm on either side of your head now…our legs tangled in my skirts…my scarf falling across us and you grab it and let me go so I fall upon your chest and, without any words, you roll over until you look down into my eyes with cinnamon eyes. Breathing hard. Words are pointless. “No.” is pointless. You will not speak.

You pull the huge dupatta over our heads and touch my lips with yours. They are soft, warm and firm. Your body is heavy upon me and breathing is hard but I do not want to breathe I would be happy to die in this moment but now there is no death. Only You. 

I remember the lies I told you about how I really felt about you. I am startled as you say,

“I knew they were lies. I also lied. You meant as much to me then, even though we were both deeply flawed, as you mean to me at this moment. I have waited a lifetime just for this now.”

“You are my universe.” I whisper,

“You are also my universe.”

I reach my hand to touch his face and then both arms around his neck to pull him to me once more. How to put words to the flood of emotion? A kind of fierce sweetness and even his kisses taste like cinnamon. His hand behind my head now and his arm under the small of my back so I am pushing up against his body, arching into him. He feels strong like these mountains. I want to make my body a cradle for him. My hands move to his shoulders and hold on tight. I can feel him growing hard against my belly and I want him in it. I want him to fill me with eternity. 

When Real Life Happens…

…there is not as much time for writing or thinking things in depth. Yet sometimes something beautiful happens and you hear from a special person you wanted to talk to for a long long time.

Some people are soul mates.

Not from male/female passion or even lust but from something past the human ability to give a name to and trying to find a word is like trying to find a single charmed quark in the whole of the known universe. You don’t know why you love them so much you only know you do love them and if there were words big enough you would use them but all you want to do is just grab that person and hug them tight and never let go; not so the action can lead to sex but so you can try to become one person with that person, like a Vulcan mind-meld.

If you are blessed you get one in a life time but if you are really blessed you meet them more than once wearing more than one face. The faces are not ‘traditionally beautiful’ they have the beauty that surpasses that of mere mortals and transcends into the ‘awe-inspiring.’

I see a bird in flight on one face. A bird like a hawk with eyes like a galaxy in the dark and a smile whose signature is joy…on another face I see the eyes of a wise man who lived a 1000 years and the mien of earth, like mountains, with a mind that spans the world and all that is in it…on another face I see the naughty angel who fights an inner jihad much like my own and I see eyes like the part of the sky that has only the faintest stars in a sea of mysterious black on a canvas as fair as cream on feet that pose like a cat poised to strike. Inexplicably I love them almost as much as I love myself. They joined the pantheon of great souls in my life with the golden eyes that shine sun on me and with the deep, curly voice that is like a coiled snake that guards my heart…

…These are loves past human comprehension. Not the love of family only although some are ‘family’ and not the love of brother or sister although some have that role with me…

There is love in this world that thrills to a mere presence, a knowledge that someone is there with you even if it is only in spirit.

How can I be sad when I have been showered with this much beauty to behold in my life?


Born with fists ready to fight
Seeking peace like some faraway goal
Eyes like lazars
Words like balm
To some far away soul
Born with a strange inner light
Almost not part of The ‘real’
Nature beating
In hearts meeting
One hand cuts the other one can heal,
Stranger in your own eyes
They look at you like stranger
Cannot understand the mind
Is your safety or your danger
In other times
In other worlds
In other places
In other words
A part of me cannot help but love….