love doodles for the sleepy and the creepy

[ftlaudft]

remembering at holiday time...

Sadness can overwhelm us when we feel
the mightiness, the majesty, the pow'r
of love and life. Perhaps by graves we kneel,
watching as blossoms fade within the hour.

We ask, those nights of love - what did they mean?
Our tears recall. Our hearts remember when.
How beautiful the things our eyes have seen!
What lovely times that come not back again!

[ftlaudft]

What's it all about, Laudie? That's the question I ask myself as I keep polishing, editing and fine tuning a poem I recently composed What is the purpose of it? What do I think it will accomplish? The poem is now twice the length of its original version and working on it has given me an enormous amount of pleasure. I'll quote it so you won't have to look it up.

stranger in the street: a pickup truck tale...

I see him walking barefoot in the street.
The beach crowd is dispersing when we meet.
He needs a ride. Some chitchat clears the way
and off we go for quite a special day.
I take him home. We frolic in the pool.
He's got the stuff that makes a homo drool.
A ballsy bulge fills out his underwear.
The profiile of his dick commands a stare.
My eyes swing down from sweet semi-erection
to glory in the joy of foot perfection.
Penis and paradise, once major goals,
fade in the vision of his naked soles.
Intimate horseplay by the garden walls
leads to a tension in our aching balls.
The handsome stranger sprawls out on a chair.
Deliciously his feet are always bare.
His face shines like a page of manly prose.
Poetry happens when I suck his toes...

The action of the poem is simple. I meet a guy at the beach, take him home and suck his toes. Now what is so special about that? Why work and re-work the experience?

Well, it's like this. Energy is forever. Physics tells us that energy goes on forever. It doesn't die. I believe that love is an energy and the energy of love will go on forever with its variants, such as our foot fetish love. So when I work and re-work a poem, the work I do actually helps me fine tune my own feelings and emotions, the feelings, whcih on the deepest level, are a permanent and eternal part of the energy of love.

The poem may vanish into nothingness. I may fall off the planet, as will the guy whose toes got sucked. But the feeling, on the very deepest level, will go on in the energy of love that lasts.

What I'm saying is that the feelings and love that produced the poem will go on forever, even though the poem itself and its author will not. But then others will come along to have their own experiences and write their own songs and poems and novels. And they will fine tune their work and it will be a part of that beautiful eternal energy in whcih all of us will be evolving.

What? You say that's too mystical and complicated? Well, it's Christmas, dammit! Cut me a little slack!!!