Estrogen doesn’t stain
Feminine calls,
as woman walk past,
showering me with estrogen.
Girl-friend longing.
i see happiness
in this,
flowing from shared lives.
Go for it, i tell myself.
Estrogen doesn’t stain.
(poem altered on nov13,2o1o)
a You
Tru,
men are attracted
by woman beauty.
But this general attraction
lags far behind,
is nothing,
to finding a you
that you know
though you have never met.
Finding packed,
in already comfortableness,
deep fondness and liking,
and leaving inside you
a wonderful longing
to enjoy this womans company.
Wow
With spring
woman beauty springs up as well
following flowers through parcs.
Inside of me
my masculine
is only
WOW
with a wonderful longing
falling into me
closing my soul off to negativity
banishing it
through the feminine.
You
I see green grass,
I see blue sky,
I see you.
You
are intricately woven;
memories,
beliefs,
experiences,
cells,
placed together
in a very flattering and wonderful pattern;
certainly a pattern i find
attractive,
a you
I find
I like to spend time with.
Your youness is compassionate,
openly exhibiting your feelings,
and a little eccentric.
Your cell patternings
deals in curves,
blue eyes,
freckles,
blond hair.
But it is animating you
that attracts me
and the physical you
is made pleasant
by its presence in it.
I enjoy you
as you walk by my side,
holding my hand,
looking straight ahead.
I glance at you,
you look at me
and smile.
Prince Caspian Intervenes
“Son of Adam”
flows into me
from an actors lips;
a definition of myself
that fits;
part reality,
part mystery,
it fills me with the confidence
of knowing better who i am;
it truly says,
encompasses,
much of the truth of me.
“Daughter of Eve”,
flows over me
touching my view of woman,
encouraging me,
reminding me that,
at their centre,
all woman
are mysterious feminine,
Princesses, as Sarah Clew says,
Eves descendants.
In this frame of mind
i will allow that
there are some woman,
one women,
who i could lovea,
and who could like me,
be-friend me;
so my heart unguards itself
reversing previous mindful instructions
setting my mind
to see “her.”
Son of Adam,
Daughter of Eve,
these words
full of mystery and reality
start cleaning out
broken notions
of self,
of men,
of woman,
from me.
These words
bring things
back to simple truth;
they strip away gathered
untruths, twisted thoughts,
cultured beliefs,
leaving…
A Son of Adam…
dreaming of meeting…
a daughter of Eve.
