Why Bezeal went to the city

On a moonlit beach shadows of clouds played on the rocks.  Shaman-Ca watched as the horse Bezeal trotted the rock in rhythm with the sea and air.

“I will dance ’til my spirit bleeds.  Worlds spin fast and you stamp your feet.”  She called across the cove.

“Your body moves to an ancient beat.”  Replied the white horse in joy of the age of the crones’ spirit.

Shaman-Ca wondered where Bezeal had been.  The scratches and dirt on his body smelled strange to her.

Bezeal was tired, for he had galloped to release the smells and his energy was sapped.

“I am tired.  I needed to run I have been to the City and could do no more than trot for three days.  No room.”  Bezeal explained.

The old goblin woman shouted from her ledge,

“Release the pressure as well as the smells, yes Bezeal?”

Bezeal shook.  The sweat flicked into the moonlit sky and became stars.  It hit rock and crystallized becoming one with the rock.  Where the beads dropped in the water a new creature swam.

Shaman-ca came to Bezeal when he was still, she spoke softly to him.

“With my bird-bone rattle and my goat skin drum.  With my cold river eye, and my hot fire tongue.  Did you see me when you were running wild?  Will you bring me to your madness child?’

Bezeal related his story to the unnamed star, the ragged queen.

“I followed a brother who was taken by machine to the city.”

Bezeal had no reason, many brothers had gone before, owned grounded brothers always left in machines and Bezeal had never followed before.  This brothers’ love, desire to be free was known to Bezeal and he felt he would be freed and had gone to rejoice with him…

“When I found him I spoke to his spirit.  The fire and the fury and the fear were wed and he crooned and swayed at the misty edge.”

Shaman-ca felt Bezel’s ‘brothers’ fear and fury blow through her untamed womb leaving a jagged seam.

“There’s much to be learnt through a crazy eye.” 

Said Shaman-Ca and she began to massage Bezeal.  Her strength, her knowledge, her love brought ease to him.  And he slept.  And he dreamt.

Shaman-Ca watched the moon.

Bezeal rocked like a nest in a shifting marsh.  He opened his thoughts and let them wander, and Shaman-Ca thought of her knowledge of the place where Bezeal had been, and of the trees of the place thought of forests of trees.  The birds thought of their other brothers who were gone, they thought of the distant brothers who had disappeared and had no children.  For the history of a place belongs to all.

Shaman-Ca offered this knowledge to Bezeal.  His thoughts were open and welcoming.

Bezeal awoke and thanked Shaman-Ca for the massage.

“Joy can be found.  Anywhere.”

He said.

“My home is the claw of a tangled path”

Replied Shaman-Ca.

“I know nothing is as it seems.”

Said Bezeal and he left the cove and Shaman-Ca thanked the moon for her help in showing Bezeal her knowledge.  Then she slept.

What am I?

I have no feelings yet I touch all.

I can be large I can be small.

I can be thin I can be fat.

I can be this I can be that.

I can be anything at all.

I copy you in every way.

I follow you every day.

I say every word you say.

If you say go I’ll do that too,

but I am not a slave for you.

I will not do what you do,

or feel the pain that you do.

Or understand the things you do.

But I’ll stand by you

I’ll stand behind you.

I’ll even lead the way

But one nod of your head

And I am easily led

We’ll go or possibly, stay.

What am I?

trippingly tickling (adult theme)

Trippingly tickling the fancy of a trippingly finicky fanny.  Dipping into the drippingly deliciously delirious secret that is secreting sexual and sensuous sweet honey covered rose petal dew filled sex.

Wonderful powerful aroma rising as you roam the rise and fall of a body bathed in the sweet drippingly dripping as you are trippingly tickled into a frenzy of freneticism,, falling upwards and coming down with the rise and rise and rise, slowly sucking on the succulent shivering quivering sweet sticky sliding sex slide out start over. Trippingly tickling…….

 

When you accept the power of it, then you can enjoy the beauty of it.  The gentleness of it’s’ control.  The sweet caress of its’ vibrant edges warning you of the pressure at it’s’ core.  There is no pleasure like it.  To be taken on a trip by the power.  Which of us possesses it?  Or could it be us?

Touching on Lancelot’s truth

Leaves scattered as hooves clattered

Across the river his image was shattered

On brazen armour mud splattered

For him honour was all that mattered

The kind and strong Sir Lancelot

He listened no to tittle tattle

He did not herd sheep or cattle

His joy was in the latest battle

And returning to Camelot

Stale sweat, blood that was caked

Stuck in armour on a body half baked

Through the fields his horse snaked

To the core his feelings shaked

The loving, brave Sir Lancelot

By the river he knows so well

His heart begins to swell

Now is heaven, the battle hell

He can see beloved Camelot

Across the river he sees the isle

That has been there all the while

And seeing it brings on a smile

He knows his home is but a mile

The orphaned, white knight, Sir Camelot

An on the island in that place

There lives…a fairy…none shall see her face

But her songs they say are full of grace

And they call her the Lady of Shallot

To share…

To share a bus, you only have to step on board

To share a train, the same

To share a meal is a wonderful thing

It is good to share the blame

To share your feelings can be hard

But worth taking a chance

If you share music, you may share a dance

SOMETIMES, I DON’T WANT TO SHARE

SOMETIMES I WANT IT TO MYSELF

SOMETIMES I HIDE WHAT I HAVE

To share your thoughts can, in some places, get you put in jail

It’s good to share shelter from snow and hail

“Share and share alike.” They say. THEY have plenty

Sharing a bath ensures you get dirty

Sharing a shower is a lot more flirty

Sharing communion is tribal cannibalism

Sharing a moment of beauty lives with all that shared it forever.

Everyone wants an equal share

Sharing space is hard with strangers and amazing with lovers

Sharing fluids….

I like to share. Do you?

Tired, dreams, nightmares, visions, memory

Tired, tried to sleep but couldn’t, closed my eyes but my brain wouldn’t

Stop, returning, turning, spurting, spurning my desire to be free.

It cajoled me, decided to hold me in it’s crazed ferocity.

It took me back through years, tears, fears and opportunities, lost loves, bad boys, and gorgeous girls until my mind was full of whole communities; babies, toddlers, teens, young adults, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists and a vast array of smaller cults.

Battered me with images of bodies writhing, riding, biting, fighting, none of them were law-abiding, all were moving, pushing, pulling, slipping, sliding. Kisses, strokes, nibbles, sucks; glimpses of a thousand fucks.

Tired, tried to sleep but couldn’t, closed my eyes but my brain wouldn’t…slow the pace. It showed me each and every face I’d ever kissed, each and every one I missed, didn’t do it like a list, didn’t have any rules; a brother then several fools, a mother then two friends on stools, then another, then one that drools, then one other draped in jewels. I tried to make connections, tried to put them into sections but I couldn’t make corrections, they were right but no, that’s wrong, those are good, those are strong, they definitely do belong, but those two can’t go together, can‘t be in each others life; that’s HER husband and that’s HIS wife, that’s a cousin, that’s a nephew okay, that’s a niece but where is the connecting piece? There’s my father without warning, I’m going to be so tired in the morning…

The Race

Ahead was the bustle of the street, with lights and cars and people hurrying to and fro.  He could hear the calls from the burger trolleys and nut sellers.

Through the gaps in his fingers he could see flashes of cars, taxis, buses, the smoke from exhausts and the steam from people’s mouths rising and disappearing as they hurried along with packages and bags, xmas presents for children, wives, husbands, mothers and daughters, then another flash of bright white as the trainer slammed into his hands, snapping his neck back with it’s venom.

 

Keeping his hands to his face, and his arms protecting his ribs, he tried to move towards the light, inching along on his knees, trying to keep focus. Peering through his fingers he saw the trainers stepping back, readying to smash him again.  He swerved to the right just at the right time and the assailant missed completely and fell backwards.

 

This was it!  His chance at freedom from the next onslaught of pain.  He withdrew his hands from his face and clutched at the wall for a hold, digging his nails into brick he dragged his body to his feet and tried to run.  But the pain he had endured and the power of the first blow slowed him.

 

A dense fog drifted into his vision and the lights looked like a slow release photograph and his brain couldn’t decipher the image.  Still, fear has it’s own drive and fear pushed him on.  like a bear in treacle he waded through the pain. Holding onto the wall he dragged his aching body towards the confused fairy lights of the street.

 

He heard the quick fist coming and fell to his knees automatically.  The fist hit the wall above his head and his attacker screamed in pain.

 

Crawling seemed safer so he crawled, his bruised hands squashing stuff his brain didn’t or wouldn’t recognise under him until he was almost in the light.  The last words he heard were:  “you’re dead now you bastard!”  Hissed through the teeth of his assailant as the final blow shattered his skull against the wall.

The quick thing

The quick thing slithered, slid and slank

Where it had been was cold and dank

Where it had been was cold and dank

where it had been was barren and stark

Where it had been really stank

It may be quick but it is also large mean it was bigger than a barge

It was huger than a giant

and it’s back was very pliant

which meant it could bend and seem small

and you wouldn’t find it in the hall

It could hide inside your pocket

Then grow quickly like a rocket.

And if you smelt good like children do

It might turn you into goo

and suck you up or into two

or small enough so it could chew

your arms, your legs, your head and guts

It would swallow you like nuts

you’d be gone and it would grow

Because it was quick and you were slow.

The journey

The Journey began.

On a cloud we had drifted, floating through the summer breeze. 

The heat made us irritable, the flies made us slap ourselves in annoyance.

The journey ended.

The journey began.

We saw beauty in the streets, character in its’ people, we felt its’ vibrancy and we danced and drank to its’ difference.

We got into bed and back to back we slept like logs, indifferent to each other.

The journey ended.

The journey began.

We vowed to each other, without the Lord, in spite of the law, forever, to be together, to love one another ’til time eternal.  We pledged to each other secretly, when the other was asleep.  We promised ourselves.

Times change. People change.  The world’s changed

The journey ended.

The journey began.

Hearts were, hung drawn and posted, they were exchanged, given over to look after.  They were heard beating, felt pulsing, even watched pumping.  We watched each others lives beating, bleeding hearts broken in two, wooden hearts, cold hands and warm hearts, icy cold hearts ignoring warm hands.

The journey ended.

The journey began.

Flowers blossomed as we woke.  Their scent hung through our room.  In it’s warmth we held each other close and breathed each other in, that knowing, comfortable smell of someone we know so well.  We ate the food we had bought and cooked.  We cleared the mess that we had made and we dressed in our room. As the sun rose we slowly rose to meet it, travelling higher on a ray of love, as the sun sank we slowly made our way home.  The flowers were dead and the water stank.  There were no matches and too much wine.  We quarrelled in the garden over money.

The journey ended.

The journey began.

We left the cold and flew to somewhere new.  Where we could share each other, give, love, enjoy and rest together.  We shared our love like new, expressed ourselves through sweat and pain, screamed and yelled our love.  Our surroundings paled as the sun continued to shine.  Drinking of our love made us drunk.  Just drunk.  We shared our time with neighbours and new found friends, expressed our feelings over round tables and in corners in different bars.  We tanned ourselves on separate beaches and flew home to the cold house we shared alone.

The journey ended.

The journey began.

Christmas came and our house was light and full of people.  Cards were sent and cards arrived.  ‘Phone calls came from old friends, parties were organised, presents decided on.  Our only secret was our presents for each other.  Nights out were drunk and pleasant, full of laughter, of care, of joy.

 

Nights in were full of stories, of families.  And pain.  Pasts uncovered, lonely xmas mornings waking on our own.  Videos were rented to save money but those nights turned into drunken evenings with take away food.  The pot shrank as the geese got fat, pennies disappeared and lists of presents were shortened and adjusted.  Anger rose as gently as the choir sang ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’, rising to a crescendo as the time drew near.

Resolutions came and went as fast as snow but tempers stayed like sludge, squeezing into every pore, covering the beauty that shone before. 

The journey ended.

The journey began.

As the cleaners returned to leave their mess, the flowers blossomed, crocuses came out early.  Spring sprung.  Dust and cobwebs were blown away.  Everything was fresh, fresh, fresh.  New loves sprang in our hearts.

The journey had ended.

We had travelled the bumpy road of love.

Fairy helps to find that thing you were looking for

It’s time they said, (but they’ve said that before)
so I used my head and looked on the floor,
I looked under leaves, under twigs all around
I searched everywhere, all over the ground
but the thing just couldn’t be found.
so I looked up above, I flew through the air
on top of the grass, I peeked everywhere
higher I went, to the top of the trees
I was so high I began to freeze
nothing I saw was what I desired
so I flew back down, I was awfully tired
I thought long and hard about the thing that I sought
then suddenly, by a flash I was caught
a realisation begun to begin
the thing that I wanted was already within.

 

Good luck finding yours.