A response: What it is like to bee me

It's easy to be me,
Once you've got the hang of it.
It's about learning how to use your hands,
to appease the goddess within.
It's about talking softly,
or not talking at all sometimes.
It's about laughing out loud
Over the telephone, over the computer screen,
across oceans and through timezones.

It's easy to be me,
get into my high heels and give it a try.

It doesn't take much to be me.
You just have to believe
In the eternal that's devoid of traces,
In the present that has no mercy,
And in a past that becomes you.
You don't need lessons to know how to be me.
you'll only have to learn of kindness
which comes from knowing the cruelest misery.

It's easy to be me,
All you have to do is
find your soulmate.

There! Now, you're me!
Do you feel the love?
Do you feel the distance tearing at your insides?
Do you feel that love that makes your toes curl up
and leaves you staring at the darkness
in fear and desperation?

Do you feel the tears well up
when someone breaks up over the phone?
Do you know what it's like
to feel like watered-down iced coffee,
and know that your knees will give way
if you don't call out and breathe deep?
Do you know that feeling of being so high,
higher than the best song you've heard?
There, now you're me!

Now, go out today and be me.
Have a nice day.
When we finally come home and find each other,
I shall see what it is like to have you,
And you shall know what it is
to be me.

peter

let us talk all night
of rhythm and muse and magic,
let us hold each other
when it gets difficult to breathe,
let us cook and pamper
each other's divine soul,
let us open doors
for each other,
let us laugh together
and come close to tears,
let us tell each other
our sad stories,
let us go down
on each other,

let us do it all.

but let's never
call each other
lovers.

for when we talk of love,
it rains.
and when it rains,
our sins get washed away.

and what becomes of a sinner
with no sins?

breathe out

you believe i forget
and forgive
your sins,

but

just like the sinner never sees his priest,
a priest never forgets
a sinner's face. 

santé!

polite words collide,
quickly followed by angry eyes
and breathless minds.
we've gone past love now, my love
we've reached eternity.
just as waves clash against
relentless grey rock,
your eyes betray you
as they always have.

i shall think of you
and think of hot summer days
when we would lie and not touch
for it was too hot.
i shall think of you
and think of cold winter evenings
when the only warmth to be found
was in your arms.
i shall think of you
and think of hands caressing hair,
lips seeking forehead,
mind seeking heart
and hearts seeking love.

polite words collide in a world of sorrow,
and my cup runs over too.
there's only so much grief that one can bear
after which it flows over and falls to the floor,
where it is met by misery,
longing and loneliness
shock and sadness.

for it is always when i look down,
when i tear my eyes away
from the ocean of your blue,
when i tear myself away
from your hot embrace,
when i pull away
from your love,
that i see the world as it is.
misery, longing, loneliness,
shock and sadness. 

Together, like bone and blood

1.
For a single tear shed
washes away a hundred sins.
And all the tears I shed for you
Have become oceans of sorrow
In which I drown.


2.
For my soul has no shape
It does not breathe.
It does not wake to the rays of the sun,
Or shiver in the winter's cold.
For my soul has no shape
It does not tire.
It knows not what fatigue means,
Nor has it known unquenchable thirst.
For my soul has no shape
And it shall never walk through fire,
I surrender my body.
To end this pain,
To cleanse my sins,
To forget this cruelty,
And make me once more
Divine.


3.
I surrender my body
To ask that my soul become divine.
I surrender my love
To ask that you be mine.


4.
It is only by suffering through the pain
you inflict on me
that I can reach the divine absolute
of your love.


5.
Because mourning requires a recognition of grief. A measurement of how grief strikes the deep depths of the heart. But how shall we measure a grief that we neither see nor hold. How do we gather this grief, wrap it up in protective folds of cloth and store away for another day?
Because pain requires a recognition of the divine. A measurement of how the deep wounds elevate the soul towards the flight of sacrifice. Sacrifice that teaches us about love.
Because love requires a recognition of self. My blood on your hands. My grief in your eyes. My pain in your ears. My sacrifice in your love.

cry for me when you see me cry

"heaven 

shall be obligation

for he 

who tries

or cries 

for me."

as blood might gush 

from forehead to toes

and your sins are revealed

in the bright red hues 

flowing towards the unknown, 

my love for your suffering

shall set you free. 

as chains may whip open

your secrets from deep within

and the swords cut through

the layers of sins, bathed in eternal regret

my love for your suffering 

shall set you free. 

as blades of steel, sharp with mercy

release my soul from the depths of my pain

my body bears the truth of my suffering

and it shall set me free. 

tu ne veilles plus sur moi,
et tout va à l'enfer. 

broken mirrors

it's seven years
of bad luck, they say
to crack a mirror.
even when it lies.

you take one look
and look away.
you plant your feet firmly in the ground
and look up for a second look.
and it takes your breath away.
you gaze and marvel
wondering who this person is,
and who this person was.
you turn slightly to your left
because it's your photo angle,
without knowing that
things look different from the other side.

you look again and suddenly
you don't like it anymore.
it is cruel and heartless
and piercing where it hurts most.

you try and hide
but you cannot.
you try and forget
but how can you forget?

how will we ever forget?

you look one last time, and it's broken.
the cracks glisten and mock
and dare you to come closer.

who says what is broken
is broken forever?
the time shall come
when the mirror is whole again.

as for me,
i now believe
that the sum
of my parts
is greater than the whole. 

you turned around and left
and i learned what addiction means.

i'm unable to sleep without you
angrily breathing by my side. 

unfinished conquests

because when you were talking about the dishes
and the laundry and the children and deadlines
and the dust on the black lamps,
he was stroking that little hollow below my neck
that makes me breathless.

because when you were telling me about the heavy silence
he was making me scream.

because when the wind was telling me to stop
the ocean came rushing up and took me away
before i could refuse.

decisions for a rainy day

when the mist clears

and the darkness has been broken

by a lonely little sparkle of light

i shall stand before you

clothed only in my dreams.

black

lace

soft

wet

and when you ask if all my dreams came true, 

i shall answer, "yes". 

never ever after

and so i've arrived

not at crossroads as i was expecting,

but at the helm

of a strange, misty, doubting 

street 

which leads nowhere.

people pass me by.

mothers look at me disapproving,

old women look at me with questions on their lips

young men look at me with lusting, ashamed eyes

the girls, they don't look at me. 

strangers all

and making up plans 

in their heads

for me.

stories with a different beginning, 

stories with no climatic twist,

stories that finish with 'ever after.'

people pass me by

they don't come from where i left,

and they don't go where i turn.

where do i belong

hearing but not listening,
not paying attention,
texting while i'm driving,
watching tv while i'm on the phone,
nodding to rap when i'm working;

distracted
elsewhere
day-dreaming
restless
chaotic inner peace.

it's when you decide to let go
that i shall know where i belong.

until then,

watch your step,
pay attention to the road,
look both ways
concentrate

for i'll always be somewhere close by.

"since when is forgiveness a better quality than loyalty?"

"but who irons the shirts?"

and there i was in the middle of the desert
sun, sand and silky souls all around me,
the clouds were smirking
while the horizon leaned in close to whisper a secret.

i was alone, i think.
were you there too?
did you notice that i was searching for something?
for hours i walked
guided by the wind's laughter
until i found the sparkling old river.

i rushed forward and fell to my knees.
the water just about touched my lips
when i was prodded awake
by your hands on my hip.

"my tie isn't ironed", you said.

oh well, i thought.

men can love other men, you see,
but who, pray tell, will do the laundry?