Her Touch

Her touch is like angel wings, drifting softly across his body. Goose bumps arise on his bare skin, and he feels it to his very core. Like an ocean breeze on a warm summer day, it's felt in every part of him.

His biceps to his wrists, then slowely down his back to his buttocks. He's never felt the way she makes him feel when her hands travel the entire length of him. Touching his heart like no other. The lightest of nails, slide down his torso, taking his breath away.  Sliding to his calves, down to his ankles. Her touch is a peice of heaven.

She relaxes him with a whisper, running her fingers through his long hair. Taking him to a place of peace, with no worry, nothing negative. If only she could touch him like this forever. Taking all the pain and heartache of his past away with just her hands. Making him the only one to have known the feel of her heart.

The depth of awareness, the expanded consciousness, the increased sensitivity, the awareness of limitation, the tenderness of love, the meaning of friendship, the appreciation of life, the joy of a passionate heart, it is her's to give to him~

"My love for you is a journey; Starting at forever, And ending at never."~ She touches him~

Matter's of the heart

She stands on the edge of the rock, watching the 1st color of the morning sky, a dusty rose. Perched on a cold slippery stone, at the lakes edge, while the water laps at her feet.

She looks back on her life, wondring how she came to be here. Choices. Other than the whisper of a light breeze, the only sound is the call of the loons.

She lets her robe drop, thinking all the while how other's view her in her swimsuit at her age. She has slipped out of the home while her family sleeps, to think in the quiet of the morning.

No one can see her, among the tree's surrounding the water, and who would want too? She is alone with her thoughts. Most people would avert thier eyes, for she dresses young considring her age. Does it matter? She is happy with how she is, how she has lived. She knows she is stylish when fully clothed, but time has robbed her of her of the lushness of her body. Her creamy skin, and shiny hair. She still feels like she is 20, but in fact, is much older.

She is unrecognizable as the girl she was then, in fact, this is true for everyone. No one her age see's the person they were in the mirror.

She eases into the water, but today for some reason, the water seems colder, her body seizes in shock, and she already wants to turn back. She can't seem to get her stride. When she was younger, she could swim circles around this lake. She use to relish this.

She remembers the water being warmer, more accepting of her body.

The early morning has stolen time, The time before the children wake and need her. She wishes it could last forever, the quiet, the freedom.

Today is not as pleasant as she thought it to be. It was just a shadow of what it could have been. How she dreamed it.

She didn't like being reminded of her age, it made her angry, frustratged. She was unbeatable at one time. As she put her robe on, she saw a figure standing in the tree's. Only did she?  Was it her imagination, or was it?

Insight

Friends, lovers, soulmates....Sometimes we hurt the people we love the most. We do it, because something inside of us is broken and hurting. It does not even have to do with the other person, it's just this ugly thing.

An unhappy place, and everything bad....... anger sadness, jelousy....it all lives there.

When you go there, you live in that place, and when your there you might do and say things that are hurtful and terrible.

Things that are good and happy and bright cause you pain. You want to hide those things, smash them, kill them. You want other people to hurt, so they can feel your pain.

Even when you profess to love them.

Sorry is life, do people really understand what that means? Do they learn from it, and move forward, or do they continue to hide behind thier pain? How can you love, when you don't love yourself?

Primal Heat

A connection, so base, with another person; unbridled lust. Hot sizzeling passion, the sheer lunacy of a moment in time when you feel wild, unthreatened in your sexuality. Complete confidence in satisfaction.

Hot summers night, a look, crazed with need. Clothing being torn, shed, thrown, a need so deep to feel skin to skin. Animal, screams in your mind for touch; fast, slick, hot.

His sculputred body, dripping, wet. Movement, in slow motion, he's holding her curved back to him, his muscled  tattoed arm across her breast, a moment of protection for her, power for him. Yet, the only emotion, the only need is to be complete. Satiated, slack with having the fire fed.

His member, sliding into her, thick and hard, filling her; her hair, dripping, thrown over his shoulder, his breath on her neck. Both on thier knees, his back to the wall. A gripping need for fullfillment. Muscles, tortured, streched for release.  Feeling it, seeing it in her mind. Feeling it in the deepest part of her.  Living and breathing every inch of his perfection. Re-living it.

The hottness, comes in waves then,  spiraling,  flooding her mind, her soul. Shaking her to her core. Knowing every inch of him, tracing him in her minds eye, shattering her senses.  Breaking her composure, reducing her to nothing and everything; the universe. Exploding, expanding, being washed away. Cleansed.  Just a moment in time. Primal.

He tastes it

 Failure is not a feeling: it's a taste, acidic, hot, sickening; an ache at the base of his skull. The frantic hum that permeates his whole body. The reflections in his womans eye's. In her fake smile at the end of the day.

The creeping grip of it in his cold hands. Know one knows the worst of it, but him.  His glance in the mirror, the insecurity of knowing the truth. Nausea sweeps his mind. There is no way out, no way back.

Racing towards an abyss, his thoughts conjuring madly blowing winds, swirling endlessly in a black sky. Not stopping, yet seeing his choices so clearly, the pain of them numbing him.  Wanting to shut out the ceasless litnay of needs. An altogether familiar tightness in his chest. Screaming, so silently.

All he can hear now, is the sound of his own thoughts. Trying to fill them, with faceless, nameless people. He see's them as angry and grey, gripping thier own thoughts, and lives, the way he is. Only, is he projecting? Was he simply seeing the world around him in a portrait of his own inner life?

Is he the failure? Or, is the rest of the world? Who is he? What is he? On the road, he watches the traffic going past. Fast, faster, everyone trying to get somewhere. At the grocery store, he looks at the rows and rows of consumer products, all of them saying buy me, buy me. I'll make you healthier, I'll make you richer, what does it all mean?  Where is he going in life?

What is life?  He is lost in his selfishness, lost in thinking and belieivng it's all about him, but he can't stop. Does the end really justify the means? Is there such a thing as acceptale causualtys?  He no longer cares, his needs are greater.

His pain is greater than all else. Does he believe this? Yes, he believes this. He suffer's. No one else. Pride is the advent of fools, he was taught this, but his numbness prevents logical thinking. His heart, is cold, and dead. Dried up like the fall leaves that cover the ground. Crushed beneath the weight of failure.

Pop Quiz for teens: How do your clothes get clean?

A friend of mine recently mentioned that her son said she was boring. So, that got me to thinking to things teenagers may not be picking up on with regards to parents. 

Not so short a lesson on why your parents may be boring. 

I know the following won't be read by a teenager, but it may give some parents out there some relief in knowing they are not alone. 

So, you may have noticed your parents absence, during the day, Monday through Friday. They do something called work, for reasons mostly having to do with you, taxes, and current trends in prices on just about everything. They expect to be doing it for years to come. 

Work is how they pay for the house you live in, the food you eat, the clothes you wear and the car you drive, and the tickets, you need, to see the whatever it is concert this weekend. I won't even mention the overages on your cell phone plans and the late fee's on movie rentals. 

Work is usually from 8am to 5pm, Monday through Friday, but because of traffic, add on an hour each way for the commute. This means they get up as late as 6am to dress and eat, and get home as early as 6pm, if everything goes well. That is not always so, several times a week, expect them to be late. Once in awhile something at work acquires the label, "Important Project" (parents hear this term like it is coming through a wind tunnel in slow motion) this "project" requires them to work a Saturday. No, they cannot skip it.

They work for someone known as "the boss" (another term heard in slow motion)  By the way, do you think your teachers are tough? Do they make you do things that seem pointless? Do you think they don't understand how tired you are, or that you're having a hard time because Tiffany just dumped Brad, and your stressed about what Brad might do? Wait a few years, they you will meet some of the bosses out there. 


To prepare for this you should know that their are some bosses out there that would make Attila the Hun, curl up in a fetal position and blubber for mercy. Then that boss would fire him for crying on company time. 


So after work, your parents get home. Unless they enjoy endless tuna sandwiches, or frozen pizza from a box, they get to make dinner. As they start cooking, they wonder, "are those the same dishes that were in the sink last night?" Didn't we ask someone to put them in the dishwasher, and by use of incalculable reserves of energy, and unimaginable use of dexterity,  PRESS THE ON BUTTON? 


Time for the "dish fairy" to put in an appearance, sweep the house for dishes and plates, and do them. That way, everyone, has something to eat from! 


They serve dinner. 


This again? You know I don't like casserole, (meat, tuna, stew, chops, ribs, soup, goulash, fish, rice, beans, carrots, potatoes, salads, ect) Can't you guys ever make anything else? 


They finish dinner, put the dishes in the sink, and with a sense of futility, ask if someone can load the dishes and run the dishwasher for tomorrow. 


As they finally settle into the den, they hear a voice yelling, "I don't have any clothes for tomorrow!" <<< Why don't you pull some from that humongous pile in your room, and put them in the washer. When they are done, transfer them from the washer to the dryer, and dry them. Oh, and then put them away!  Of course I am hollering over the sound of their xbox, ps3, TV, ect... I have been at metal concerts that have been quieter and more peaceful than this. (They hear the sound of doors slamming) 


They go to bed in order to rest up for the day. Then come's the weekend. This is when they wash the car, buy groceries, mow the lawn, clean the house, fix leaky faucets, return movies to the store, and occasionally buy the 1st new blouse, or shirt, they've had in over a year. 


On Sunday night, they drift into sleep, knowing that tomorrow is Monday and the cycle starts all over again. It may seem boring to you, but it seems more like busy to them. They can't dodge any of it, and the good ones don't even try. They funny thing is, that in the end, most of them love doinging it. (although they won't admit it, and frequently look back on it with fond memories) 

That is if they're not arrested for boiling you in oil first!

The music Industry

I have been on and off the scene for the past 30 years. Started off at panama's, when Jim was still a cook there. After he bought it, I went to work for him and Jen as a server. 

 Back then, we all wore black skirts, cumber buns and white tux shirts with a tie. (short black skirts). The 1st time I had a douche bag drunk put his hand up my skirt, about 4 months into my job, I slammed a tray of drinks in his face. This was when the server's knew how to serve too. The drink tray was stacked 3 drinks high. Ha! Well shoot and damn. 

Jen, who managed the bar, (Jimmy Z) pulled me from the floor, asked if I wanted a drink, (baileys and coffee) and then put me on the door. That is how I got my start as a bouncer. 

Anyway, back to the scene. Back then we had some big bands coming through, and so I ended up knowing a lot of musicians. Some stayed local, and a lot went big. 

One of the cocktail waitress was a good friend of mine, and we would go for breakfast after our shift most nights. We both had daughters the same age. One night at breakfast, she looked at me and said, we can't hang out any more. I asked why? This was shocking to me. We were really close, or so I thought. She said because she had heard that I was sleeping with all, ALL, the band members. WOWZA, did this blow my mind. Yes, I was single and knew a lot of them, hung out with some, and are still very close to some of them, but sleeping with them? No. Where the hell was this coming from? I dated a few friends of musicians, but did not "sleep around" Had a lot of fun, and did some crazy shit with girlfriends, but again, wow.
 
I talked with a friend of mine who was like a brother to me. I asked him what he thought. By then, I was contracting for the liquor board,  and was working other Seattle area clubs. I was an I.D. expert at this point and managed several security teams in different venues. He said to me, "you take 1/2 of what you hear, cut that in 1/2, and MAYBE, a 1/3 of that MIGHT be true.

There is a point to this post, and I'm trying not to digress here. Bottom line. Personal business should stay personal, and professional business should stay professional. Most people in the industry know whats what. Most are still basic decent good humans. In fact, musicians, are some of the most loving giving people I know. You always get your nut case, that goes for any group of people. The jealous ones, the ones who want to hold you back because they know you shine. Don't let them. Go for what makes you happy and keep going for it. I did, and still do, and won't give up. 

I have come full circle now, after being married 16 years, but I am the happiest I have been in a long time. It may not be the life some people think I should have, but that is their problem, not mine. 

Stay true to your self, always. It's the only way you can stay true to someone else.