Eyes Open and Wants Exposed

We started in the mud,
after rekindling Beltane fires snuffed by everyday rain,
the Maypole still wet.

We invited flesh and spirit to have their way with us.

“This only comes once a year,” I said to me then.
But that me (all covered in mud for May Day,
eyes closed and opened wants) she forgot,
she forgot everything that didn’t come
with him in it.

Thoughts of him are all over me now, always…
his words on my hips, always, always
him…

in the evening, on the dining-room table… him.

When reason is smashed to pieces
and lust is
neurosis dominated by love… him,
that is all I see—

his mind…
in
me.

This year, if rain won’t caress my Beltane fires, I will
spill wine in the dirt to make a bed of mud. To have him
all over me (eyes open and wants exposed), that is all
I want to see—

in the evening, on the dining-room table… him,
always him, neurosis dominated by love… him,

his words…
his mind…
in me.

 

borrowed from Trancetral

 

expanded from this slighted mad-looking acrostic blackout poem
(you can read a bit more about the blackout itself here).

 

– linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

 

Sexuality Is in the Head

“You cannot divide creative juices from human juices. And as long as juicy women are equated with bad women, we will err on the side of being bad.” ~ Erica Jong

.
None can know
me, what drives me wild
in the mind,
what speaks to the swells
of my hips and breasts…
the way I do.

Hands I allow
on me are a gift,
a pleasure partnership.

Hands and fingers and thought
tracing skin, feeling muscle and bone
ruled by said skin’s own brain
need no partner for joy—
gifts are good, entitlements are better.

Sexiness begins in your head—
touch your mind deeply,
love your body often.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” sexuality
is in my head (and in yours
if you want).
To celebrate it,
take your body and soul
and make yourself yours.

.
the (not so) wee notes…
– Since Beltane—a witchy holiday that brings sexuality to my mind—was in, um… my mind, I asked the members of a private Crohn’s disease forum I belong to about their sex life. Many answered that their sex life was just fine, thank you very much, and can we talk about our ileums and rectums now? Others said that the illness has affected their sex life, but they have adjusted accordingly. The most prevalent answer was a variation of, “I’m single”. So, I added, “What about sex with yourself?” Some people (all right, a whole lot of people) left the session without typing another word.

Those of us who stayed on the forum spent some time discussing sexuality, morality, and the relationship between body and mind when it comes to physical pleasure. It was an enlightening conversation. I was puzzled by the number of mature adults who confessed to have never masturbated—not because of religious taboo, but because they are married or because the idea of touching their own bodies makes them feel dirty. I left the forum hoping for minds freed of nonsense that pushes people to believe that physical self-love is filthy behavior or something to be ashamed of.

Keeping that (and other juicy wonders) in mind, this Beltane, or May Day, or on this 1st Monday of the 5th month of the calendar year, I wish you lots and lots and lots of physical love (if you want it), especially from you to you. Be human, enjoy your Self.

– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

The blackout that fed the poem…

…and a flower that seems to be rather proud of her sexuality
(yep, the Thunbergia mysorensis is most definitely a girl)