Never.

I will NEVER be the beautiful gay man I will NEVER have six pack abs. I will NEVER have the perfect nose, mouth or teeth. I will NEVER have enough money. There will ALWAYS be people who will NEVER take me seriously... That's ok.... You know what?.. I HAVE been LOVED! I KNOW people who find ME attractive. I KNOW just how BEAUTIFUL my SOUL is. I HAVE something to GIVE to people. PEOPLE LOVE ME! I'm now LOVING MYSELF The rest are LITTLE THINGS...that can or cannot be changed... That's ok... I have been LOVED I can LOVE People can and have accepted my LOVE That's ok... I'm growing in every single WAY!

Takk Fyrir. For Ingolfsson. On looking at the words that he wrote for himself. On looking at the words that he told me. I am…he is…who am I? Who am I to hear such words speaking when his life goes creeping…among that wayward shore. Who am I to wonder…if this ‘Ice Man’ should be humble. To sing to me his life’s long score Should his loneness be punctuated by siren call incorporated? –into of emotional goals shroud the twin tottering towers that guard his valley floor? Beauty! Yes High Beauty Devine. Ensuing his Lifes Glory Devine. Because of what is hidden must be made known. Though rock and ice…water, fire and stone made known. Grinding, molding and groaning. Iron strikes iron hot. Love strikes the world cold. ‘ You shall not go alone to your own bones’ Your bones they be white and hard—buried beneath flesh and lard. Strike not this “Ice Man” on that long shore today. ‘Let me be with him!’ Lord I pray. Two and three willingly be one. I pray that you stay along your Path il lumated by the sun . If our path that’s quixotically twain’d allotted time runs its course. Let me say to the fathomless world… Let me say to Love unfulfilled… Let me say to Life unlived… Let me say to those eyes—full of youth and wisdom. “Hear this ‘ Ice Man’ whose shorn by his own will from north lands ancient. To wonder fruitful and peacefully to lands hither and yon. Bendiction. May Grace and Beauty clothe your skin! May they reveal the glory that you have within! You ‘Ice Man’ of whom wisdom will shine. Whose feet is put on a path that’s inspired Devine!

Today.


In the Morning I wake
I wash my face.
And I say to myself…”today-yes today will be a good day.”
I hear whispers, and still I’m determined to have a good day.
I prepare myself for a day of living.
I say to myself in the morning as I wake… Today-yes today will be a good day.

The sun travels across the sky, hot. Birds sing lazily in the maple trees.
I say this in the morning as I wash my face.
Today-yes this day shall be a good day.

The sun rises and the whispers advance the day.
My heart quickens, and they fade.
I say as I wash my face.
Today will be a good day.

During the long afternoon heat, in the height of summer the whispers die and in a sigh of relief I say as I wipe the sweat off my brow.
“Today will be a good day” I say.

The sun begins its rest in the western plain, the birds start there short summer nap.
And as I wash my face and hands…
I say…”today was a good day.”


copywrite 8-1-11

A Kenyan Road.

I do not know the name of this child who is walking…
Down roads alone—darkness stalking…
In brightness of the day—the sun is clear this little child walks alone…does she fear?
Down the road alone daylight is stalking a dusty road alone is treading—walking.

Who shall walk with her when the winds of life blow?
When will the rough places pass plainly straight?
Will she escape life’s line of poverty’s (below) embrace?
Will she ever know life’s glare…or hate?

Who is she who walks down that Kenyan road so plainly trod
Down paths alone in dusty sod?...

O child of dust! Leave off your weeping, for there is nothing creeping ‘neath the underbrush to make your heart sore.
Remember your promise and keep your soul honest to prepare yourself for the love that you have in store. Remember the promise that you are keeping—for your living soul love is sweeping—the mud and life’s detritus by the dusty wayside shore.

O child of dust! Bathe yourself in light and come walking, down the road where sunlight is stalking, to lift you up in arms to protect you from dusty storms. Down that African road that child came a’ walkin’ where sunlight and yes- death may be stalking down a lonely Kenyan road where life…isn’t sure…

The Price of Love. ( From The Document of Affections)

The price of freedom is always high
The price of love is always high


Tomorrow on…
To fell—and to yet love

I will always love him

I will always want to hold him
Ah, but if I could have but a kiss!

But I will always love him


I have become a stumbling block to him

I love him…but I tire of upholding all my gemstones. The ones of whom I see are the ones whom there perception of me that I question.

Rightly so…


For one was asked when I asked him
One was talked to quite religiously,
When I begged to talked for hem to talk to me

Do I dare keep a score of wrongs?


Is this Love?

Can I afford to forget?

Can I still love hem?

This terrible time of testing!
How much my heart yearns for peace!

How much has he changed me.
For on his rejection of me I have found freedom
Yet I will still love hem.

He whispers in my ear…
Hello….
I smile, my heart gasps.
Will I be the only one to embrace hem?

Is this the price?
Copyright 2004

A poem of Love. ( From The Document of Affections.)

A Poem of Love.



How much I love him!
He peeks my curiosity like none else can.
Is this puppy love?
I hope not!
I am too old for such things.
But it would be nice to relive my teenage years just once!



Just once would I want to have that nervous felling in the pit of my stomach when I see him in the hallway.
Just for once would I like to do anything to just get a glance from him!
Just Once!!
Just once would I like to dream about him!
Just once would I like to stammer the words ‘ S-so..would you l-like to go out and-uh...see a movie’?


This is a poem of love…or a poem of foolishness?...



copyright Apirl 04

Granted. ( from The Document of Affections)

Granted.




If I could be granted a few things before I die.



Let me kiss your bare shoulder, and fell your skin.



Let my striving be summed up in those three words…

copyright 2003