Philosophy Prose

The Coldness Of Dropping Into A Relaxed State

It removes me. Drives the world away for a while, and puts me into my own world. I learned it is better to envision than to replicate. Better to imagine and create from that.

It’s death and life. It’s between. To express a vision. To change an image. My version.


Gardens And Your Body, Juxtaposed

The moon was new like our love
It was a drone summer
Gardens properly trimmed and sculpted
Growing next to a radiant pool
From which we both emerged
You lay down beside me
I touched the bottoms of your feet
Gliding up your Achilles’
Worshipping your golden calves
Orchids and Asiatic lilies grew quietly
I traced an imaginary stocking hemline
Up the backs of your thighs
A tiny breath escaped your lips
The topiary mimicked the rounded curves of your posterior
Birds sang about them both
I brought my lips to the small of your back
(They were jealous of my hands, you see)
You purred, and all avian life paused for a moment
How restless your skin
As wind moved leaves, and your hair
How the sun glinted off the water
And your golden skin
The light must have gotten in my eyes
I closed them, and my lips found their way
To your glorious throat
My hands took different paths
Examining crevices and corners
You moved your hair
I obliged willingly, kissing you just there, and there, and there
No sound but the waves
No one watches our careful exploration
No witnesses to our crimes of passion


Tai Chi or Chai Tea

Surreal pillow
Lay my head upon tonight
Up late anyway

Relaxation comes
When exhaustion settles in
Collapsed destiny

Tai chi or chai tea
Which will fill my cup, my soul
Dissolved entropy


More Pressing Matters

Removing stones from chest
Breathing easier these days
Crucible on cruise control
Witchery matters not
The ocean forgives
Welcoming, embracing
Sky chaotically smiling
Dressing in wind and rain
For formalities and finalities