Love With The Hands Wide Open

To Have Without Holding--Marge Piercy

Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms
rustling the sheets and snapping the blinds
that thwack like rubber bands
in an open palm.

It hurts to love wide open
stretching the muscles that feel
as if they are made of wet plaster,
then of blunt knives, then
of sharp knives.

It hurts to thwart the reflexes
of grab, of clutch; to love and let
go again and again. It pesters to remember
the lover who is not in the bed,
to hold back what is owed to the work
that gutters like a candle in a cave
without air, to love consciously,
conscientiously, concretely, constructively.

I can't do it, you say it's killing
me, but you thrive, you glow
on the street like a neon raspberry,
You float and sail, a helium balloon
bright bachelor's button blue and bobbing
on the cold and hot winds of our breath,
as we make and unmake in passionate
diastole and systole the rhythm
of our unbound bonding, to have
and not to hold, to love
with minimized malice, hunger
and anger moment by moment balanced.

Sadistic Love

I'm loving Mistress Matisse's new article in The Stranger's Control Tower. It's called Hurt the Ones You Love. So if a little sadistic love suits your fancy, go for it.

In Love--On Earth As It Is In Heaven

Greenwoman made this comment on my In Love post below and I thought it deserved the honor of its own post:

"There is a Sufi practice...

It is a zikir practice. That is to say that it is a practice of yearning and answering the call for Divine union...a practice that explores being at One.

This particular practice explores Love, Lover and Beloved.

Love resting quite simply in the heart, rising, surveying the state of consciousness as Love impresses and expresses itself as Lover and then raises consciousness into Beloved union which is all forms of love and all expressions of love.

It is a paradoxical practice...and I think its been teaching me that Love is not something that can be boxed or defined. We can term it for a time so that some aspect may be better understood, but the essence of it is Life in its most blessed form...and Life/Love will always burst free of its bonds into something More.

It seems to me that's what we all really want...to burst free of our bonds, whatever they may be."


Zikir from Heaven On Earth--This is the site that seems to be most related to what Greenwoman is speaking of.

Zikir from wikipedia.

Zikir from oneprayer.org--Prayer Vigil for the Earth--Creating a Culture of Peace

In Love

I was with my juicy women last night. Wow, is stuff ever up for everyone.

Lena wasn't there as she was preparing for the arrival of an out of town lover.

Randi has broken it off with both her married lover and also her female lover of 25 or so years. The long term friendship remains with her girlfriend but the sexual connection is no longer feeling right for her. For the moment she is enjoying the power of her singleness and contemplating what it means to really be "met" in relationship.

Molly's marriage is in turmoil. Divorce is in the air. Lots of pain. Lots of sexual energy and opening to the exciting possibility of other lovers. It's a time of transformation for her and her family.

Ana is going for the gold. After a sexual dry spell she has two sexual partners and another getting to know you, possible deep love connection brewing. She is also engaged in some professional sexual healing work and playing with her sexual power in a women's ritual group. Plus she has us juicy woman to play with and bounce her stuff off of. Of her two current lovers, one is sweet and gentle, eager to please, and attentive to her needs. The other is a hot young stud in an open relationship who can (and does) fuck her silly for hours. She says he's helping to bring out her inner porn star. Her 3rd relationship is long-distance and is developing over the phone. They have met in person only once but will be getting together for a nice long rendezvous soon.

Pema is depressed. She is very, very sad. Her lover is not meeting her needs. He is sweet, he is gentle, he holds her hand. But he is not there for her. She doesn't blame him, but rather the circumstances of their life, things that are out of his control. Out of their control. She is sticking by him through thick and thin. The problem with this is that there has never been any thick. She believes in the potential of thick. There is always potential. I know this. I lived on the possibility of potential for years. She wants him. She wants their relationship to work, wants their love to be given a chance. I don't know what to say to her. There is nothing to say. I don't want her to keep doing this. I want her to let go. Except for the fact that she doesn't want to let go. She wants this and there is nothing else that she wants. So I support her in her dream. I support her in getting what she wants. More than anything else, I want for her what she wants for herself.

As we have entered this new year, I have felt so much hope in my life, in the life of our nation, in the potential of love, that I decided to offer my hope as a gift to Pema, my hope that she will get what she wants in regards to her relationship with this man. I've been hoping that she be given the chance she is seeking. But I'm finding it so hard for me to hold onto this hope. It seems misplaced. It seems a losing battle. A doomed cause and one that I've never believed in, as much as I've believed in her.

And I do believe in her. I know that there is something in this for her and she seems unwilling to let go until she gets it. Or maybe when she finally lets go it will come to her. This something, this it, I speak of can only be love. Which brings me to my sharing with my juicy women regarding my own contemplations on love.

I had a lovely weekend with lover who is my lover. It felt good to have an extended period of time together to make love, talk, sleep, eat, make love, relax, make love...

I've continued in my contemplations on love in regards to the difference between being in love with someone and simply loving someone. I talked about this some with lover who is my lover and he said one of the differences for him was intimacy. When I asked him what he meant by intimacy one of the things he came up with was the level of comfort one experiences with the other. So we discussed intimacy for awhile. Here are some dictionary definitions:

In*ti*ma*cy
a close, familiar and usually affectionate or loving personal relationship with another person
For me this resonates with both loving someone or being in love with someone.

a close association with or detailed knowledge or deep understanding of a place, subject, period of history, etc.: an intimacy with Japan.
Again, this works for both love and in love. What strikes me with this definition is the close association; detailed knowledge; and deep understanding. This usually connotes a love that has grown over time. It takes time to have an intimate knowing with another. Sometimes. Not always. Well, of course. Yes and no. For Instance, I think of the incredible intimacy and deep knowing of another that can take place during the contemplation and dyad communication at an Enlightenment Intensive. People bare their souls to their partners who are available for them with open hearts and minds, receiving all that is communicated without judgment or opinion. When this actually happens, an incredibly deep understanding and intimacy with another takes place between virtual strangers. Strangers who become instance lovers. When I first met lover who is not my lover, the instant depth of connection and understanding, the level of intimacy we experienced with one another was awesome. We would share our hearts and gaze into one anothers eyes and go very deep, very fast. In fact, the first time I met him was at a bar with both of us fueled on alcohol and loud music, there was immediately a deep familiarity of intimacy. My soul knew this man and without question loved him. It was love at first sight. Why do I refer to this as in-love rather than simply loving him? I wonder about sexual attraction as a mutual component of this deep connection and understanding that makes me identify myself as being in love.

an amorously familiar act; liberty
Again, both love and in love. Intimacy allows us to take the liberty to behave in a familiar way with another such as to walk up and greet them with a kiss or hug or perhaps lean over and offer them a blow job in car.

sexual intercourse
The connection with sexual intercourse and being in love is obvious. For me, sex doesn't really work unless I love someone. I have no interest in having sex unless I love the person but we know that sex happens lots without love. But actually, now that I say this, I know that lover who is not my lover would dissagree. We have discussed this and he would say that even between drunk strangers who pick each other up in a bar for a one night stand, that there is the intention to create connection and love. I suspect he is right. Nevertheless... But the definition of love is tricky here. I know that I don't have to be in love with someone to want to have sex with them. I haven't had sex with that many men. Relatively speaking of course. I have had sex with men I didn't love but not many...lets see, there have been four of them I think and I fucked each of them once...oh, one of them I fucked twice but it was on the same date. None of these situations worked for me. They were okay, but not very pleasurable really. They were nice enough people and all but without love as the connective force I recieve no real pleasure in simply fucking for the physical sake of fucking. But a girl's gotta try something out to see if it works for her or not. It doesn't work for me.

I have had sex with friends that I feel love for and mostly I'd say this is how all of my being in love relationships have started out--all except with lover who is not my lover. I've either been dating (I'm being liberal with the term dating here) a man and there is a mutual attraction to grow a relationship, so we make love and move on into falling in love from there--or, I've have a friend who I feel loving towards and there is sexual energy up between us so we decide to fuck and it's fun and maybe we want to fuck some more or maybe not but the love and friendship remains about the same as it was because we aren't really interested in taking it into a level of greater intimacy in relationshp--except that it's sweeter because getting naked and sharing in that way tends to bring you closer.

Because I'm polyamorous and because what I'm really seeking at this point in my life is more love and ever increasing intimacy in all of my relationships, my intention is to go for the greatest depth and openness in love whether there is sex involved or not. Not to downplay the sex part because, well, because it is awfully nice. Bottom line is, sex is important. I suppose that what I'm going for is being in-love even though I don't really know what this whole in love thing means. Ultimately though, I'm going for a real relationship with a real person and that means that I'm most interested in whatever is actually real and allowing it to unfold in its most authentic way. Even though I'm playing around with labels in my mind, I'm not really looking to label love or put it into some preconceived box. I'm more about seeking greater freedom in love and expanding myself with its essence rather than trapping it with my any notion I hold about it. I'm most curious about this whole in love thing because I notice that I have a vulnerability around it that most probably relates to my fear of rejection, need for acceptance, and feelings of worthiness versus unworthiness around it. Love and relationships, especially when we throw in sex can be complicated and discombobulating to our comfort level! I say, bring it on!

the quality of being comfortable, warm, or familiar: the intimacy of the room
Lover who is my lover mentioned the aspect of being comfortable in his definition of intimacy (and thereby love). I concur. Even if one enters a relationship by falling in love at first sight, there is something powerful about growing in comfort and familiarity with another that brings a sense of warmth to a relationship over time. I think this comfort level partially related to trust. I'm obviously most comfortable with those I trust. With some people, trust builds slowly. With others, it seems to be almost fully present from the get go.

When I think of trust and comfort with lover who is not my lover it's very interesting. Lover who is my lover asked me if I was in love with lover who is not my lover. I answered, yes, definitely, but also said that I don't trust him as far as I can spit. Ouch. But it's true. In the everyday world of love and relationships, I do not afford him much trust. Trusting him would be silly and pathetic on my part. That makes me sad to say that but it's true. Well, it's my truth of the moment anyway. After all, this man has disappeared from my life for almost nine months now without a word of communication as to what is going on for him, leaving broken dates and promises with me in his wake. But what I do trust in regards to my relationship with him is the love. I've no doubt that if and when I sit with him again and gaze into his eyes, the love and deep connection, the knowing of him as my anam cara, my lover and forever soul friend, as well as my knowing of his intention and desire to be a good man, will be there, is in fact still there between us now, even in the separation. This trust is unshakable.

Jerry and I have had in depth conversations about the trust and comfort in our relationship. In our 16th year of relationship We have certainly had some issues to work through but mostly, we've enjoyed a high level of both of these ingredients from the beginning. He arrived with a few untamed demons , I had a few of my own, and we've created (and mostly slain) a few together. But the strong love we share has always prevailed and gotten us through our tough times. I've never lost sight of that love. I know Jerry well and pretty much know where he is trust worthy and where he is not. Like for instance, to use a benign example, I know not to trust him for most household repairs so it's simpler to not expect that of him and to simply call in a professional. Of course some issues of trust are much closer to my heart but when all is said and done, he is a trustworthy man, a life partner I can depend on and is loyal to me in his love. I think he would say the same of me. We are also exceptionally comfortable together. Life flows easy between us (most of the time) and we enjoy each others company. Our egos don't bump into each other too much or too hard. This comfortability is big for me. I adore New Relationship Energy, but I don't take the peace and comfort of a long term loving relationship for granted. The ease of functioning in a loving relationship that one has sustained over time is a special blessing.

Last night me and my juicy women discussed this whole love versus in-love thing a little. Pema mentioned something that I've been talking about with Jerry. She was describing how there is love and then there is all the things we attach to love. All this stuff that ego identifies with to make meaning of love and to feel safe or unsafe.

Maybe there is just love and this whole concept of being in-love is just a concoction of mind. Maybe all this in-love business is related to the ways I want another to fulfill my desires within the relationship. When I was discussing this with lover who is my lover over the weekend, I asked him if he thought there was any difference between love and in love on the non physical plane. Without our egos, what could be the difference between the two?

And yet, here I am, living with my ego in all its glory and I love the concept of being in-love. Mental masturbation or not, it's very compelling.

Fall Down And Worship Each Other

Some Thomas Merton:

"Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths
of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach,
the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes. If only
they could see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other
that way all the time, there would be no more war, no more hatred, no more
cruelty, no more greed... I suppose the big problem would be that we would
fall down and worship each other."

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone-we find it with another.”

Israeli Conscientious Objectors, Shministim

My Lovers

This Is My Belated Valentine's Post--Just some re-posted poems I've written to my lovers.

Jerry*Lover Who Is My Lover*Lover Who Is Not My Lover
And to the one, young, sweet, beautiful, intelligent pierced and tattooed woman I fell in love with. She stole my heterosexual heart and showed me that love has no gender boundaries.



Your Love
Your love made it safe for me to love.
Opened me to the
freedom at loves core.
Your love,
Embraced me.
Pierced me.
Healed me.
Your love taught me how to love.


Wanting You





I know the difference between a want and a need.
I need very little.
I want a lot.
I practice wanting less.
I want you.
Now.
So intensely it feels like a need.
I just can't settle down until I have you.
So I need you to come and give me some of your calm.
Nothing else is working.
I don't want to practice wanting you less.
I like the feeling.
But come soon anyway.






Spooning With You
I love spooning with you.
Back and forth we move
throughout the night.
Me squeezed up against you,
my hand holding your belly.
You squeezed up against me,
your hand cupping my breast.
On our backs with legs entwined,
your one hand rests on my yoni
while the other grasps a handful of my hair.
In the morning I hate to get up.
I wait until you abandon me,
pulling your warm body up into the cold.
Only then I relent and follow suit.



Your Morning Breath
I was so cold this morning when I was driving by where you slept. I thought how nice it would be to just pull over and come in, crawl into her bed with you and cuddle up next to your warm body and smell your morning breath.

Rug Burn

I wore a dress that showed my skinned knees and
made up a plausible lie just in case someone asked.

"I tripped jogging up those darn concrete stairs!"

Lover who is my lover felt bad

but I told him it's okay,

that all new relationships

deserve the initiation of rug burn.

They really hurt but the pain brings a sweet memory.

Two Lovers
Two lovers fill me.
One creates yearning for the other.
Differences complete,
As desires increase.
Peaceful anticipation
Oh! This joyful journey.


You Swore Communion With Me
You swore communion with me lover.
Do you think I'm through with you?
I've only just begun.
But you've a higher price to pay now.
I promised I would demand the best.
Well of course, if I have to put up
with the worst of you.
I'm ready when you are.

A New Lover
My body reacts to thoughts of you.

A vulnerability to the newness.

Not knowing what to expect.

But trusting nevertheless,

as we enter into the anticipated unknown.

Imagining more of this exploratory pleasure,

my heart speeds up and my skin flushes warm.

I Yearn For That
Basking in the sweetness.
Remembering
how you fill me.
In my mind.
Over and over again.
I yearn for that.
And breathe it in.

Her Car

Her car was parked out front confirming you were together.

The two of you locked in sweet embrace,

I smiled as the warmth spread in my chest.

I had forgotten something inside

but chose not to disturb you.

It could wait.

I could wait for you

as I waited for him.

I laughed at the sweetness

of our love.

We Fill Each Other Lover
We fill each other lover.
I am swept away on the raging torrent of your desire.
Your wild lust pummels and then satiates me.
Your arms cradle and keep me safe.
I melt into your stillness, emptying,
Until we rise again, possessed.

The Seducer
I notice more and more
my willingness to let you go.
But nothing is forced and I realize
that the key is not in
actually letting go
but in the willingness to do so.
Still, a conscious releasing comes
and my grasping of you loosens.
More and more each day
and I'm left feeling what remains.
The love--just as intense.
Just as compelling.
But with less attachment.
Dammit.
Why is it that you always have
such palpable lessons for me
even in your absence?
You come to me in my dreams--
again last night.
And it's just the same
as in my waking life.
I have no ability to disengage.
I am your slave
with every right to say no.
But there is nothing to resist--
so I don't.
The power of your presence
is a drug that overwhelms
my ego's puny will.
So I watch myself
do your bidding.
It's my pleasure.
I watch your drama
and mine
and ours.
The persuasion,
you have over me
without even trying.
And I know you are
just a guy
and not even that special really.
Except to me and whoever else
that has fallen to love you.
You are just you being you.
You are what my friend calls
The seducer.


Waiting

My last lover insisted that I wait.
He teased me with his charm
as I begged for morsels of his leftovers.
I'm done with patient waiting.





The Emptiness That Fills Me

You open me up and crack me to my core.
I watch it happen, you just being you,
enjoying me and our connection.
Loving. Openhearted. Present.
Totally in your body.
I surrender and follow.
Orgasm often brings me pain.
Not physical pain.
Not emotional suffering.
Just deep openhearted pain
at the emptiness that fills me.



Today I Ached

Today I ached for him to kiss me.
Not the tight lipped pecks he usually offers me.
But a real kiss, soft and lingering and warm.
Imagining this, I longed for your passion.
And blessed the day you claimed me as your own.



Dream Lover

He came to me last night while I slept.
Greeting me, he pressed his body into mine.
We lingered in the juicy richness between us.
His hardness brought us to our knees as I pulled him closer.
I knew I was breaking the rules.
Or was I?

Drunk On You
I want to drink your wine
and drown drunken in your ocean
tasting only sacredness.




My Wetness
Facing you with quiet apprehension
as the fire burns between my legs.
I fear the erupting lava flow
that threatens to penetrate my dress.
Exposing my wetness
as I stand and turn my back to you.





Married To The Buddha
My girlfriends call him Bodhisattva.
I call him Buddhapest.
With those long dangly ear lobes that he refuses to pierce.
I tease him about the way he talks.
Like he's still walking Jersey streets after 30 years as a California boy.
And those Albert Einstein eyebrows that I chew on in bed
and muss up in public places
or otherwise groom for him
when the occasion calls for a more respectable presentation.
Gentle brown eyes that beg me
to cut his curly salt and pepper hair
that he swears he can take no more.
His passionate kisses fill me with his sweet breath.
His strong hands with slender fingers, adorned with my wedding ring and his father's star sapphire, play me like his drums--soft and gentle, hard and intense
till his forearms ache.
He implores me to grab his ass, tense and overamped with so much energy he fears he'll explode.
And his chest, with man breasts and nipples always erect.






I imagine him in his army green tee-shirt hugging their form.
And his bleach stained jeans with the hole,
perfectly placed for a discreet peek of his likewise perfect cock.
He sings and I still tremble. I glance at him with his glasses on and the sight invokes a sigh.
Seven years and counting...




Forbidden Fruit

I saw her on Sunday
In red hair and tee shirt tugging her breasts.
Watching discreetly, wanting her to see me.
I understood that we would offer no recognition
But her face...
Indelibly etched in my mind the remainder of the day.

More Forbidden Fruit
Unknowingly I step through the threshold of your temple
Worshiping at your altar of white as you step outside of yourself
Lusting you in black as you share your thoughts with others, ignoring me
An enigma I've created in my mind
I stare and gently turn away, in respect and self-righteous indignation



Cut Me To The Quick
Friday morning you cut me to the quick.

In your bed, naked and vulnerable, I listened to your concerns about him and her. Endeavoring to hold on to myself and simply love, I felt numb more than anything else. I wanted to want nothing more than what you freely offered. I also wanted a cup of coffee...and a deep penetrating good morning fuck.

You explained your dilemma, that when I went home to him, you would be there alone. You said you wanted a singular relationship. To wake up in bed with the same woman every morning. You said that you wouldn't settle, no matter how lonely you got.

I would have settled for a cup of warm tea and gazing into your eyes. I wanted for you what you wanted for yourself.

I'd brought pictures and poetry to share but you had no time. Maybe you had no coffee or tea either.

Saturday night he made intense love to me and my damn broke. I sobbed and felt every texture of my shame, hurt and insecurity. His eyes gazed into mine as he entered me and cracked me open. My pain rushed in, filling me. I emptied and loved you more.