Of Perceptions, the Flattery of Patience;

& Brief Notes to RocketGirl

Déjà vu! Yes, oh yes, I’ve seen you so clearly before.

Kisses like the beauty of heaven;

(your eyes again mirrored, as open as mine)

In laughter and love anew

(if love be of trust and simplicity)

I’ve celebrated with you, in these joys of looking out.

As with cherry blossoms, white softness abounds

in those full gentle blooms of opening smiles.

Rituals of respect and peace.

Often warm winds then become harbingers.

Thus created, a kite of shared curiosity takes flight,

(finding our pasts, having yet intruded not)

Soaring in precious places,

where mind (enlarged)

in each (still)

remains as one.

Warbling, bare breasted, in clean panties, you have left the

mildewed corners quietly behind your bathroom doors.

My youth(s) (like rough threaded pearls)

have taught me many things.

(It’s déjà vu,

(such ageless déjà vu)

to see it’s beginnings,

so beautiful once again!)

Yet, poignant, sad, doomed and dear

You, coming so slow (slow motion)

Unmistakable

Stop! (be still), oh so clear

Watch! (slow motion)

(Only can I not miss this reality,

if I chose chase,

(and blinking),

stand within your lights).

Distant rushing past

(ocean nights

clothed naked in blankets

rocking chairs

on porches till dawn

your shadows locked

upon my groin

steaming windows

private realms

flights over waters

blue skies

majesties on

tops of the worlds)

Some women make love as a practiced (even giving) art; yet,

most ultimately are unable to (continuously) engage their heart.

Moist panties.

Delightful start.

Dusty, hidden corners.

If they say ‘walls’;

see prisons.

(Twisted walls

of unshared making

worlds, not of

an equal undertaking

walls not of

one’s own creating.)

Beware of any prison which holds

a distant promise of inviting you in.

(Who wants in

When you may not

come out whole?

Who wants in

when it’s molded

in unlit politics

born of pain and vain?)

Be cautious of those who insist,

they will never be seen, but in invulnerability.

(So much to prove,

she’s an expert, she must compete.

Men, never above;

nor, either ever an equal.

So many men

to hold back in their places.)

Do they say, “Sanctuary for their children!”?

(see Super Moms)

My son’s a chef……

so, he should buy a paint scraper and clean your stove.

My son’s in day trading……

yah, now on your line of credit alone.

My son has a system……

déjà vu, déjà vu.

My home is their sanctuary……

déjà vu, déjà vu!

Fridges growing mold

Drawers, cupboards, lost canned goods,

strings, dirty dishes, pencils, broken cups

and daddy’s old ashes in a ruptured box.

(Incestuous mothers

never freed from guilt

(craving acknowledgement)

waiting (still in need)

their children’s heroes

(making Freud proud)

serving (yet) saving them

from her broken homes.)

Do they say, “When my Children need me!”?

(see Super Woman)

(Why? Ahh, truly, her Children will always be there.

It’s just one more easily practiced excuse to alternately give.

It’s just one more drug of convenience to otherwise save share.)

Their children can do it,

but (as the saviors)

they know how.

[(a note to rocketgirl)

It seems men disdainers, in so many ways,

find their children yet sliding (undeparted) from their wombs;

the soft heat of their unreleased genitalia

(held firmly, grasped protectively,)

asleep in the vaulted recesses of her mouths,

cleaned and warmed by maternal breaths.]

Beware too of walls erected to protect

the wary lioness in heat, who wounded, still hunts.

(But when(because)

they find need

to compete with men

contradictorily find,

will never, any longer,

fully let them in.)

If the prince is waiting,

then the jaded remain dreaming.

(Women of Autumn

beauty touched by September’s chill

scurrying in the fall

(ripened tomatoes on the vine,

marred after night’s first deep frost)

Ripe fruit, ready to fall.)

(Yet, (impossibly),

still looking for that prince

to assail their castle walls

and (impossibly),

patiently, (in their dreams)

to carry them away.)

If the prince was waiting.

The jaded stayed dreaming.

Wise but blind woman in courtship heat,

pandering in carefree rhythm

with their certain

knowledge of man -

simple as he is

a romantically

integrated whole,

and she happily fashioning herself

as an object

in the totality

of his desire.

Déjà vu, déjà vu

(the song is not often new)

For,

when that heat of the hunt has met her end:

Smile, ((with general certainty find))

with the retraction

of their cleavage;

propriety, balance,

and reason returned,

love-lust become civilized;

So too then in her mind

the wood glen song

of romance and of man.

Women can be their own worst enemy

In that they oft blame men,

(more often than naught,)

For what they themselves create.

Man become vilified and

objectified -

labeled as 'one of 'them'':

visualized, castrated,

and fashioned,

Into equal parts both

above

and below the belt.

Fashioned thus, even a good man is often

lost in reality and

separated from his whole.

If the prince was waiting.

Those of certitude stayed dreaming.

Compromise…….such an important word (so they say).

(Some) tell you, or tell you (in subtle and hidden ways)

(If I mention it), it means……..

“We’ve (already) discussed that.” / (‘And that’s that!’)

(Others, just do with competitive pride)…….

And all then, simply “take” their predetermined ways.

“Yes, Compromise is an important word (for others around me)”

“It’s not your business (but you never take time to listen to me).”

…… speak of relationship, “I don’t believe partnerships work.”

“That only concerns me!”

(I’ll talk family [or include you] only! when there is, ‘advantage me’.)

Tough Women…..so much to learn.

[Hating]/Demeaning/ men for what they do to them?

[Hating] men for (then) what’s been done to them?

It’s all about you:

……..whereas understanding, exists only in equality

within these worlds, and within these walls,

……..there is neither ability (nor need) to apologize

There is only you.

(Friendship has becomes squandered

on the poisoned sword of gender separations.

Equality has mortally hemorrhaged

under black phantasms of imagined ‘entrapment’.)

There remains only you.

Only you?

Perhaps you are then a “Jus’Me” Girl

Are you a “Jus’Me” Girl??

Smiling sweetly

clean panties

holding hidden pieces in the hands behind your backs.

(If so, then

save me from your excuses!

((Yet, no not completely from

the hopes of our first smiles!))

If so, then

protect me from

(the inevitable)

expectations of

(your one way myth)

“unconditional love”.)

“Jus’Me! Jus’Me”!

“Danger Will Robinson!! Danger Will Robinson!!”

(((As well, be so ever wary, in romanced dreams,

of the woman who claims to mastrubate not,

And while yet in courtship claims

find 'you', the perfect and only true fit.)))

[(a note to rocketgirl)

‘No woman who enjoys men can be used <from a woman>.’

In the same way, no man who enjoys women can be used.

What the Lady-of-the-Ramparts

has patently neglected to see,

is that you can not shock, or even punish the man

who finds in actuality

a transient honour of reasonable esteem

((It’s simply, déjà vu, in that I’ve seen you before,

(even whoring the equality of human friendship

for unconditional love from helpless beasts)

behind the walls which became you not, now or then.))

if it were admittedly once of value seen,

emotionally, (let alone, that added in sexuality).

Sexual freedom is its own reward.

Yet in degrading friendship (the highest of kindnesses),

you have simply succeeded in your aspiring

to become equal (to men’s least admirable traits).

(You must/should/can ask,

What is it you think you have gained?

What is it you think you have maintained?

From what have you actually saved yourself?)]

SillyGirls…..so much to unlearn.

afraid of (love, or) emotion: as they French kiss with their pets.

(Hard women, soft women.

Hard women, testing, positioning.

Soft woman, expecting, enticing.

Dog woman, cat woman.

Dog women controlling.

Cat women possessing.

One flaunting,

The other fawning.)

(Single women

with their children:

true love renewed.

Single women

with their beasts:

the surrogate warmth

of true love lost.)

While your eyes and mind would sooner

(and tend easily) follow her; know:

(excuses abound,

fantasy is cheap,

avoidance of thought will blind you

expecting change is disaster,

avoidance of action will bind you.)

The wisest will easily give love itself without restraint

(as well, then the greatest of lessons become soon learned!)

How do they walk with this power, how do they then value in return?

(Interestingly, often see them bemused.

Importantly (sadly) see if they then abuse.)

(You’ll know when a woman thinks

she has a man by the balls;

she’ll slip in effrontery to say,

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll understand.”)

You learn much about a person by how they live.

(I’ll trust not readily,

a woman with no plants in her home.

Or, one who’s had a life time of opportunity

and yet needs still, a day or two more

to put it in place.)

You learn even more by what one hides (or [more often] hides behind).

(Wisdom, wisdom, wisdom!

Heed the belief to trust reality.)

From models to princesses, to competitors,

to ice queens, and manslayers without peer;

to others just fearful, chained timid

and lost to false beginnings:

Time has tied kindly you all together

Different faces, same smile

Standing proudly (and) oh so sweet,

(moist scented panties

and those grins of unspoken wiles,

clear eyes alive in that little window

of (temporarily) suspended disbelief.)

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Prepare for the scars inherent if the inability to love.

Play with fire!

Some things seldom change!

(Clean panties

(fragrant lips)

Dusty dark corners.)

(Pretty flowers (in your time)

sacred along the journey’s way;

you have mused my mind and heart to sing.

I am deeply grateful,

for you have taught me these many things.

[(a final note to rocketgirl)

Lady-of-Sweet-Beginnings,

If you knew me truly then,

You might easily know me now.

In turning from the candle

Outside the barricades become your door,

(leaving tallow, entombing moths like amber)

Perhaps you may feel I missed your idea,

(but I, not necessarily the (depth of the) reality.)

Perhaps I even missed its one way beauty, or its simplicity,

(but not necessarily the then sharpened, edges of your attitudes.)]

Yes, I am thankful for all beginnings, begun in trust.

Yes, I am thankful, that life continues so good to me!

For (profoundly) it’s been a déjà vu, to live of this love once more.

Salutations to Perspective and unbounded Hope!

Salutations to the deepest beauty of hearts passing in the rivers of time!

Salutations to Women!

Salutations to the sweetness of Humour!

Salutations to Life!!

For, fragrant and warm,

(enjoyed much like the perfect cup of early summer tea)

Resplendent remains,

This earthy dance so full of honey, delight and reverie.