Enlightening Nonsense

© February 23, 2010 by Swami X

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Shootin’ at the walls of heartache, bang, bang, I am the warrior. Well I am the warrior, and heart to heart you’ll win..if you survive the warrior….the warrior

—“The Warrior” by Pat Benatar

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Scarred and battle worn

He continues to walk the path

Of the warrior

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His image frightens many

For they have been told fairy tales

Illustrated with pictures of allure

Where only beautiful princesses reside

And handsome knights go off to fight dragons

And when they see a real live warrior

Face to face

He looks nothing like the artist’s rendition in the fable

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His hair is knotted and tangled

for he does not worry about how he looks

only staying on the path of service

His eyes are bloodshot

from surviving on little sleep

mostly because there is always evil to confront

partly because of all the innocents who have perished by his sword

His body made up of muscle and sinew contains no extra padding

for he does not have the luxury of five-star restaurants

or attending “business dinners” that are none of his business

His skin has been slashed, cut, burned and bruised

from all manner of weapons

and so he looks like a walking map

with lines depicting the markings of the ridges and valleys

of the terrain he has covered so far

And his heart at times seems icy

for he will not allow it to distract him from his purpose

as it makes him vulnerable to attack

and it only seems to hurt all who it touches

for they want him to stay by their hearths forever

and burn with anger when he leaves to continue his journey

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He takes lives that are useless

Like most swat a fly from their hand

And while pain is almost always left in its wake

a crater after a bomb

a tombstone forever marking its destruction

He never stops to mourn the dead

For the dead belong in the ground

And the living belong above it

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It is a lonely path

That of the warrior

But he serves not himself

But a higher principle

And while at times he wonders what it would be like

to rest his blistered feet

to have a hot bath and a warm meal

and to have someone touch him

deeper than has been done

with fists and broken bottles and swords and empty words

to give him a kind smile

instead of spitting at him with saliva and curses and rocks

He never stops walking his path

For then someone else would have to do it

And he wouldn’t wish this life on anyone

© January 20, 2010

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I come on my knees to lay down before you

Bringing all that I am, longing only to know you…

What could I bring to honor your majesty?

What song could I sing

that would move the heart of royalty?

…As your spirit flows free let it find within me

a heart that beats to praise you

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—“Audience of One” by Big Daddy Weave

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Lie back and let me take the heavy load of the day

Out of your arms, off your shoulders, from your mind

I will gladly carry their weight

For I live only to serve you

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Release…Relax…

Remove all barriers to receiving

Spread yourself so there is space to enter

Allow me access to your hidden chamber

So that I can bow down

And honor your Royal Highness

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I will rub you slowly with my healing salve

Softly painting your Royal Highness

With the slippery slide of wide strokes

Using the tip for detail work around your Crowned Jewel

My brush lovingly lapping your liquid

As it mixes with my paint

To form a color crafted on communion

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Let yourself become engorged with the pleasure of life

Stimulated by this poor artist’s tool

Who admires the masterpiece that lies beneath him

As he inhales your perfection

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Allow yourself to arch, shake, yell, scream

No inhibitions

Nothing holding you back

Knowing that every sound, look, touch, taste

Is music that even your smooth, sultry silencers

Cannot stop me from hearing

I need no ears to hear your song

I dance in creation with you

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Go to the unknown place with me

Where an explosion can leave you in pieces

Or make you more whole

Let my juices be the glue that brings all your pieces together

And my love be the hands that raise you like a treasure

For the whole world to see

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Let me remind you that your throne

Is not made of gold and gems

Passed from parents

But is formed of pure glittering essence

Gifted from God

© January 7, 2010, Swami X

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All in the golden afternoon

Full leisurely we glide;

For both our oars, with little skill,

By little arms are plied

While little hands make vain pretence

Our wanderings to guide

—Lewis Carroll, author of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

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Rowing my boat

Always downstream

At times rocky

But I have always caught the Current

And gone with the River’s flow

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Some have thrown their oars

Trusting fully in the River

But I have chosen to keep mine

For sometimes I like to steer closer

to the banks and see the wild flowers

to the seagulls flying at the shore

to choppy water when I feel like a thrill

to smooth waters when I need a rest

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And then I saw you

Across the wide River

And suddenly all the colors of the wild flowers

Faded to grey

And all the magnificent heights of the seagulls soaring

Couldn’t pull my face away from yours

And the slap-slap of the water

Was drowned by the pitter-patter of my heart

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You smiled at me

And when I looked into your eyes

The River suddenly disappeared

And we were standing frozen

On the Shore of Now

Holding each other

Not only with glances

But arms

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I rowed towards you

But the Current of adversity was strong

I threw overboard any food I had

For only you could nourish me

And all I had accumulated on my journey

That I had formerly thought of value

Whose weight was now only keeping me from you

The only thing worth rowing for

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For every two strokes forward

I was pulled one back

And although my muscles ached

And my lungs burned

I new this was my final finish

That when I got to you

All my rowing would be over

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I waved for you to row to me

And you missed my signal

Because your head was down in your

maps and

charts and

tools of navigation

For rowing the River required one to be practical

And without the charts that had been handed down

From the experts of past

How could one hope to survive?

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But for me survival was no longer a consideration

The only thing that mattered was getting to you

Connecting our boats

And riding the current together

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When you finally closed your tools of safe travel

And saw me rowing towards you with all my might

You rowed a little in my direction

And now my heart had taken the oars from my muscles

Pushing full steam ahead

But when you heard the call from your party further on

You paused

And the current pulled you away from me

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I wouldn’t let up

I shouted out to you!

I professed my love for you!

I told you I would risk capsizing

And destroying my boat

If it meant that we could ride together!

But without your effort

My heart resided back into its place

And returned the work to my muscles

Which finally exhausted

And I stopped rowing

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As our boats drifted apart

Each in its own channel

I just stared at you

Wishing you had made the effort

For the Current of the River

Is way too strong to cross alone

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And now the slap-slap of the water became audible

And the calls of the seagulls filled the silence

And the Shore of Now

Became the Beach of Beyond

And I was aware that my face was wet

from water splashing

and sweat pouring

and tears falling

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Up ahead lay a Great Divider

And as your boat went to the left

And my boat to the right

I still thought it possible

That with enough effort

I could make it back to you

But I knew without you

Paddling hard towards me

We could never change the tracks we were in

And so I let that thought sink

Beyond the surface of hope

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Rowing to you was all that mattered

And now you were gone

So I threw my oars overboard

And sat back in my boat

Acknowledging defeat

Wishing I had never seen you

For now no wild flower or seagull

Could touch me

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And as I progressed further down the River

I became unsure

Whether you were real

Or a mirage created by a mind

Which had grown tired of rowing alone

Either way, I realized that I couldn’t hold you

And the image of you started to fade

Soon nothing but the feeling of recognition

I felt in your eyes

Remained like a fragrance

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Maybe the lesson the River was teaching

Is that it can’t be mastered with a dream

That one has to be practical

To maneuver its length

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And whether my boat finally arrives

At an Oasis of Splendor

Or whether it crashes into sharp rocks

Is of no importance to me

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I wish you good travels

My distant love

Imaginary or not

You were real to me

© December 9, 2009

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I feel my body tremor as I approach his room

And when I fill the doorway with my form

I see him lying there

Splayed out on his bed

Sweatpants

Shirtless

Reading Steppenwolf

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He looks up from his book

Eyes turn to me

But his body remains motionless

And his glance sends a shiver through me

And without even a touch

My breath jumps into my chest and throat

And I start panting

As if I just jumped into an ice cold lake

Only my body is feeling anything but cold

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His leg bends slowly

As he rolls onto his side

And places his feet on the ground

Wind blowing

Draped curtains flowing

His body glowing

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My lips part

A feeble attempt to regulate

The rising and falling of my chest

With a release valve

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I am frozen in my spot

And my eyes take momentary breaks

of respite to the floor

For if I continue to look into his eyes

My soul… my heart… may be sucked away forever

Leaving my body to collapse in a heap on the ground

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After what seems like an eternity

Or maybe only seconds

Of sitting on the edge of his bed

He slowly pushes himself to his feet

His eyes never losing their lock on me

Like a panther stalking his prey

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His half-naked body glides towards me

And I am in such a haze of ecstasy

That I can’t tell whether his legs carried him

Or if he just suddenly appeared

Inches in front of me

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My breathing rate increases

And I think either I am going to have a heart attack

Or an orgasm

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His glance drops from my eyes to the center of my chest

As his arms extend and his hands place themselves

Lightly on my hips

Touching the skin

Between my jeans

And my loose draping shirt

That seems to blow like the curtains

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He touches his forehead to mine

And now our noses are lightly pressed as well

And my eyes fight to stay open

But they close on their own

Knowing that taking in his form now

Would be like staring at the sun

And they would ever after be blinded to the beauty of

yellow flowers

and snow covered mountains

and children laughing

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And suddenly on their own volition

My arms throw themselves around his neck and shoulders

And my face pushes itself into his right cheek—

Just for a moment

Before I pull myself close

And bury myself into his neck

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My hands can’t seem to find comfort in stillness

As they hold and slide and move and bide

The time

Before his hands finally rap themselves around me

And when he squeezes me tightly into him

I feel our chests connect

And my heart jump into his

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And now hands work surgically

Without thought

Just purpose

As he unties my brown flowing shirt

And it drops to the ground

And like two Tango dancers in perfect harmony

He bends slightly

Letting one hand slide below my knees

While the other remains firmly around my back

And he lifts me off my feet

Physically, that is

As I have already been flying

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He places me gently on his bed

The touchdown smoother and softer

Than any commercial landing

And his body

Which never separated from mine

Slides on top of me

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His mouth kisses from my neck

As his hand opens my chemise

And he pulls down one side of my lingerie

Revealing my breast

Over which his soft lips pass

But only briefly

He continues down the center of my chest

Crossing the material of the thin barrier of my clothes

To arrive at my bare belly

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His lips

His tongue

The slight tickle of his thin moustache

My left forearm covers my face

As I am ready to explode

From the inside out

I don’t know whether

Fluids or body parts

Will scatter the room

But at this point

I no longer care

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His mouth moves to the outside of my waist

And follows the thin trail

Above the curve of my hip

Up and around

To below my bellybutton

His tongue makes one final pass

Around my navel

And then he leans up

Hands grabbing firmly my skirt and panties

And as he pulls

My hips arch

And soon they pass my legs

And he drops them aside

Leaving me as bare below

As I am inside

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His lips touch softly the inside of my left knee

And they slide to my inner thigh

His left arm embracing my leg

It’s fingers lightly caressing the outside of my thigh

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His hand slides up to my hip

As his mouth slides to my pussy

My ribcage arches skyward

As the top of my head pushes into the pillow

And my vocal chords begin to play their music

In moans and groans

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My eyes pop open wide

A blank ceiling offering nothing to grasp onto

And they close just as suddenly

My splayed elbows rise off the bed

Touch each other in front of my face

And then drop after their feeble effort

To accomplish I don’t know what

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My left hand covers my face

Pointer finger finding residence on my forehead

Middle finger on my brow

Ring finger on the bridge of my nose

Pinky finger surrounded by parted lips

Resting against the teeth

Of my slightly open mouth

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Eyes going from the light of the room

To the darkness of my eyelids

Body arching and twisting

Right hand covering his left

Which lies on my stomach

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The sounds from my mouth

Coming to a crescendo

Until there is a spasmodic full-body quake

And in that complete volcanic explosion

All sounds disappear

And for a moment

I am transported into a silent realm

Just after the Big Bang

Where there is no war

There is no worry

There is no love

It just is

And I know this is Heaven

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And while his mouth between my legs

Transports me to a place beyond the stars

Just dancing with him naked

Or riding my bicycle with him on the back

His arms holding my waist

Or walking anywhere—

To a bar, the playground, on a sidewalk with no destination

Just looking at him

Through eyes washed clear of fear and frustrations

Heart spilling out in all directions…

I would trade Heaven and harps

Just to have him

Lie with me