I danced with friends,
but mistook them for strangers:
Held them at a distance
as I measured my steps.
Gave them a ‘thank you,’
and missed many an embrace.



***

Flesh-limbs entwine, your sleep secure,
cocooned from winter’s sting,
I kiss your smile,
caress your cheek,
and hear the angels sing.

I remembered how the autumn leaves
had fallen then blown away,
their final dance
had turned in time,
before the still of life’s new day.

Seven phaeons had passed
since I held you close
in galaxy 4723-12-409,
and through it all
our love rested still,
a bond so pure, divine.

Re-united at last – the circle complete,
I float, and wonder why
it took so long to start again?
Will you recognise me and
will you cry?



***

Outside the realms of reason,
Lie summer and winter but no seasons,
Where 'dead' and 'alive' has no meaning,
Where souls melt their kiss in shared glance.

I travel there in sleep to find you -
sometimes months and years you are gone
- to where time and flight create meaning,
And our parted fragments become one.

Joined within the realms of reason,
Souls flying high beyond all seasons,
Held together within their shared meaning,
Where kisses carve free each first dance.

Many people are abusers in one form or another: Possibly flesh eaters, maybe self abusers - drinking, smoking, tattoos etc. The range of forms of abuse is legion. Abuse within intimate relationships is arguably not so much about 'good person turned bad' but rather about widespread ugliness manifesting within that part of life.

Discipline, self respect, and respect for other humans, and various life forms is arguably eroding in modern times and few are immune from either giving or receiving abuse.

How many people seeking a partner do a 'morality check' let alone check for a clean sexual medical report? Very few I suspect.

No. Women like younger well heeled men, and men like slim sexy women. A generalisation but largely true.

Which is why older gentlemen, who are vegans, carry a medical test report, and who are not into any form of abuse (past or present) invariably get overlooked. (Cough).

Such is life.

For the connoisseur both the anticipation (which can endure for minutes, hours, days, or weeks) and one's erotic imaginings can be equally delicious. Which is extremely comforting having not enjoyed nooky for around nine years.

But I'm optimistic as always and am in the process of re-reading the instruction manuals given to me by my parents as a young man. It all looks pretty straightforward, and a number of the steps are already coming back to me.

I lost my mind years ago, so presumably there's no evil in me? Hope not.

The route to wisdom begins by ignoring scientists and searching for truth elsewhere,

My looks faded at age 13 years when my hair fell out.

After which torn and faded has become fashionable.

PREAMBLE:

I rarely write traditional rhyming poetry, but here is a rare one. Written shortly after 1994 when my mother passed on. I post it as many people like that sort of thing. (Slightly cringes). I try to please - sometimes. Truth is, an unknown whisper told me to post it.

************

Four Ages of a Mother

When all that is left is memories,
we re-live those days long since passed.
Rosey glow of a ‘then’ melts into a ‘now,’
the trick – to make it all last.

I remember the seams in her nylons,
cranking the handle... washing... wet smell.
Always putting on baby’s bonnet in sunshine,
ensuring her infant was well.

And them time fleeting onward passing,
pram, dummies, and rings were all lost.
I was a grown man with children,
mortgage, wife, and spiralling costs!

I was always outing squalor,
laying bricks, making a den.
She was always there with her pinny,
ready with cheque book and pen.

And then time fleeting onward passing,
our worlds drifted apart, maybe broke:
A death, broken marriage and heartache.
Perhaps just struggling to cope.

Always busy at work, or travelling around.
Massive garden to tend on her own.
Grandchildren demanding her attention,
not long before they’re all grown.

And then time fleeting onward passing,
her energies subsided and went.
A message came down from the heavens,
advising that her days were now spent.

It transpired that they wanted her quickly,
as her work down here was all done.
A new age for her was just dawning,
her new home was ready, well won.

***

c. Wackford, 2016

A professionally shot photo. of a young beauty queen purporting to be from my neighbouring village where all the women are sheep herders who tie their trench coats with string, chew straw, and frequently burp.

No profile words and just aching to tell you how much she adores you.

There must be a lot of stupid vain men out there.

In a previous life (believe it or not - likely not) as one opponent came in with bayonet I would side step right (I was left handed then)
and slash at their throat with my own fixed bayonet. I recall their look of shock and horror! It all came back to me after past life regression hypnosis when I played the session tape back.

Eventually I died in a gas attack. Bayonets can't handle that.

Possibly teed me up for being vegan in this incarnation?

Great stuff for a dating site. Maybe some of the ladies did some killing too? Almost certainly yes. Possibly recall it as they eat their rare-cooked Sunday beef?

That's twice my mother-in-law has broken my JCB bucket!

Sher_Tenn,

We must get together sometime for bayonet practice.

Sincerely,
Wackford

Well at least intercourse on one level is taking place.

I've never really understood parlour games, but at least I now know where to find the beautiful people: In a huddle playing ....whatever this is called.

No wonder I'm ignored. You have other things on your minds.

TMommy,

So sorry to hear that.

I had to stop speaking to my father for six full years (even though living under the same roof) in order to side step his violence. My sister later followed suit for a lesser period.

As much as we love people self-protection must always come first.

On that score psychological self protection is equally important to physical self protection.

It usually makes us feel bad, and guilty too, but we owe it to no-one to suffer abuse.

Everyone - stay strong!

One never really fully loses parents, they are simply residing in a different place, but the loss of their physical presence takes some getting used to.

What can help is to continue talking to them either out loud or silently.

Don't be surprised to hear back from them. Seriously.

Any words from them will usually be given not as audible sound but by way of 'thought answers.' It may take practice but it usually comes. During grieving is a great time to commence the process as psychic channels are increased during that time.

How does one know if it is real or imagination?

After really getting into the swing of it ask one of your parents a question which you truly do not know the answer to. For example, 'I've lost my car keys where are they?'

Never try to think whilst awaiting an answer. Nothing can be forced. Send any questions out on a wave of love and feeling good, and if an answer doesn't come immediately then move on. Often the answer may be delayed.

Hope that helps.

A very professional piece of writing.

Appraisal of mental ability is so difficult as there are so many mental attributes and all are inextricably linked with 'soul knowing' wisdom in various measure.

How would I define a 'smart' person? That really is difficult.

After a few minutes of reflection:

For me personally the starting point for any smart person is to know (free from religious indoctrination) that they are spirit and that they are eternal.

Without knowing and understanding that most everything else makes little more than superficial sense.

Remove the last few words from EVERY line and it reads much better.

Forced rhymes are both unnecessary, contrived, and ugly.

You have something potentially good.

As a former clinical hypnotherapist 'stress' was way up there on the list of conditions I had to treat.

I personally do not adhere to the view that such is an everyday acceptable part of life and that one has to learn to adapt to it. By innuendo at least such is what a number of posters seem to be suggesting.

If you burn your toes in the fire, would you immediately put them so close to the flames again?

If one has ANY problem in life the CAUSE of it needs addressing rather than the effect. Alas most mainstream doctors have not yet cottoned on to this basic precept.

"But I need to earn!" I here so much wailing.

Of course you do, but it's rarely necessary to remain in any job that stresses you out, or conversely any relationship which does the same.

I gave up being a lawyer because it was killing me - even if I limited myself to just seven hours a day.

Working in other genres - golf, hypnotherapy etc. for fourteen and more hours a day turned out to be relaxing and at times immensely pleasurable. One needs to finds a lifestyle which fits.

Chasing money is generally at the root of most stress conditions.

I've been well off and I've been literally bankrupt. Money is illusory and not quite as important as most people imagine it to be. One always gets by.

But one cannot always get by trying to repeatedly handle stress. Stress is natural and healthy but only as a very short term thing.

Yes indeed, a nineteen year old (1st) marriage, When we no longer found each other desirable she suggested that I should take a lover. Very accommodating but not really what I wanted. Call me 'old fashioned!'

We remain the best of friends but very rarely bump into each other as we live light years apart. And we have two amazing sons. So something good came of the venture.

Sometimes the end of a marriage is the end of a pleasant era but it's time to move on and grow.

*******

My second marriage (12 years this time) ended with a very amicable split with her wanting to move to London and me then needing to remain a country chap.

Again at least one of us had changed, and it was time for new horizons for us both.

********

I personally have never had any time for fighting or bitterness, likewise my two wives. Life's way too short for such immature nonsense.

Marriage can be very good, but that's not to say that it will always work for life and it is possibly naive to expect it to last that long when one is young.

Very nice to read a couple of men opening up their hearts.

It's been eight and a half years with me (being alone) although for the first five of those my ex lived with me under the same roof. That's one of the loneliest feelings of all - being in a relationship, but not really.

When we physically went in opposite directions I moved into our mountains home in adjacent country Wales. A house which was our former occasional retreat.

There are no locally available women and even the best looking sheep are poor kissers as hard as they try.

Free dating sites are pretty hopeless with either women seeking much younger men (and me not fancying 90 year olds) or them being way too crazy to ever get into a regular relationship with anyone. (Older women largely seem unable to re-birth). Catch 22.

So what's the answer? I'm extremely lucky insofar as I'm strong and have more than learned to live alone. It now runs all the way through me, and I'm accepting of the fact that I may have to remain single for the duration. And I have my beautiful cat for company.

Whilst many man may perhaps regard it as a right to have a lady I more see it as a privilege. I've had a privileged life and all good things come to an end and we all need to adapt.

I'm not in prison, I'm healthy, I have a hobby, jobs, and Pusskin. I should be grateful and I am.