Uncategorized

  • I Look In Your Eyes
     
    I look in your eyes, and I see the reflection
    Of all that you see with your eyes.
    I even see a two dimensional reflection of me.
     
    Deeper, I peer past your convex lenses
    And start to see you in a deeper light.
    The deeper light, though dimmer,
    Illuminates the three dimensional you.
    The you that is body, soul, and spirit.
     
    I want to celebrate your spirit
    And enjoy the joy that you have.
    I want to celebrate your soul
    And share your values in life.
    And I want to celebrate your body
    And share in its pleasures.
     
    To peer into a person’s soul, through their eyes
    Is to commune with that person.
    And to commune is to celebrate.
     
    All this I see and all this I want
    By looking past the two dimensional
    Reflection of me in your eyes.

    Curiousdwk

  • You’re a Beautiful Person

    PURSUED BY THE BLACK CAT

    There is a black cat silently stalking me
    But one day, I shall be the secretive stalker.
    Her lusty greed has set my loins aflame
    As she prowls more lordly than the sun.
     
    So soft, she sinuously steps aside
    And advances stealthily toward my back.
    I feel her breath on the nape of my neck,
    But it is I, this time, who has set the trap.
     
    The hungry hunt is on as I go about,
    Flayed by thick thorns and rocky path.
    Feeling the glaring hot whitenoon
    I spin around to see her ravenous face.
     
    I see the blood veins shining in her neck,
    Her yellow eyes and nostrils full of fire,
    Her supple body twitching with hot desire.
    She knows now what her dastardly fate will be.
     
    It will be me, the hunted, who does the devouring,
    As I leap upon her agile, feline body.
    And wrap my controlling arms around her sleekness
    And feast and gorge upon her sinewy neck.
     
    Her monstrous mouth opens to devour me
    But I swiftly shut her mouth with mine.
    I taste her hot anticipating wetness
    As our fiery tongues battle for supremacy.
     
    We roll over and over alternating on top
    As our flailing arms and legs entwine.
    The ferociousness of our torrid passion
    Knows no boundaries, no limits, no rules.
     
    Till finally she resists my advances no more,
    And willingly lets me have my way with her.
    As she succumbs to my ministrations of pleasures,
    And realizes the pleasure of being pleasured.
     
    And then, when fully spent, we mutely lie,
    Our arms still embracing each other,
    I softly caress her with my lapping tongue
    And savor the salty taste of her moist flesh.
     
    When we prepare to go our own separate ways
    We hold each other’s body tightly against our own,
    Feeling our hearts beating the rhythmic message:
    Maybe next time, she may be the sacred devourer.
     
    Curiousdwk

     

     

  •  

    COULD I SHARE

     

    Could I share with you my fantastic fantasies?

    While you help me integrate them with reality?

     

    Could I share with you my different-drummer music?

    That is both inside and outside of me?

     

    Could I share with you the books I have read?

    And show you a map of my soul?

     

    Could I share with you the books I have not read?

    And show you a map of my desires?

     

    Could I share with you my terrible past?

    Those god-awful experiences that forged my soul?

     

    Could I share with you my desperate yearnings?

    The next creative project I must undertake?

     

    Could I share with you my bountiful friends?

    The ones who have shaped and molded me?

     

    Could I share with you my anticipated joy?

    For that would give me my greatest joy.

     

     David Kimball

  • SHARING

     

    When I read a poem, that makes me mist,

    I want to share it with someone.

    I want her to be touched by what touches me

    To deepen the electric sensation.

     

    When I find joy in life, rather, when it finds me,

    I want to share it with someone.

    For a true friend more than doubles one’s joy

    She brings out of me life’s ecstasy.

     

    When at a concert, or poignant legitimate theater,

    I want to share it with someone.

    Her sagacious comments elevate me higher

    Than my solo flights of imagination.

     

    When I softly pine for the touch of intimacy,

    I want to share it with someone.

    I want to reach out, and touch, and validate,

    And be the reason for her smile.

     

    When fully engaged in a rational thoughtfulness,

    I want to share it with someone.

    She can help me to mold, sculpt, and fine-tune

    My frail attempts of expressions.

     

    Through the gestation and labor of birthing a poem,

    I want to share it with someone.

    Because she knows me, she alone can encourage me,

    Giving blessings to my endeavors.

     

    David Kimball

  • I have been reading poet, Nizar Qabbani who is one of the best contemporary Arab poets.  Here are two of them.

    My lover asks me:
    “What is the difference between me and the sky?”
    The difference, my love,
    Is that when you laugh,
    I forget about the sky.

    (Nizar Qabbani)

     

    Light is more important than the lantern,
    The poem more important than the notebook,
    And the kiss more important than the lips.
    My letters to you
    Are greater and more important than both of us.
    They are the only documents
    Where people will discover
    Your beauty
    And my madness.

    (Nizar Qabbani)

     

  • Finally a Palestinian Solution I can Love

    http://www.npr.org/2011/04/21/135539894/israel-says-palestinian-statehood-bid-would-end-talks

     

    Finally a Palestinian solution that I can love.  It seems that there is a drive to have Palestine present a proposal to the United Nations in September to be granted Statehood.  In order for the UN to approve it, Palestine must shore up its infrastructure like schools, police departments, etc.  So this is something I can do to constructively help.  For too long I have felt that all those signatures, marches, yelling, etc was not accomplishing what needed to be accomplished.  But this is positive energy rather than negative energy.  Instead of tearing down Israel, we can build up Palestine.  What a concept.  I love it. 

  • Great Ethic

    We would do well to foster an ethic of deep listening, of deep and intentional connection, where a desire to understand supersedes a desire to convince, and the desire to foster healing is stronger than the desire to foment division.  (Parker Palmer)

     Questions:

            What does deep listening mean to you?

            What does an intentional connection mean to you?

            What does it mean to have a desire to understand superseding a desire to convince?

            What does it mean to have a desire to foster healing which is stronger than the desire to foment division?

    These answers cannot come from a political party or from a religion.  They must come from inside you.  Reflect on these questions.  And then reflect on your answers.

     

     

  • Adult Night Before Christmas

    ADULT NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and boy was it neat.
    The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.
    The doors were all bolted, the phone off the hook,
    It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

    Momma in her teddy and I in the nude,
    Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.
    When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
    That I lost my boner, and momma went dry.

    Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
    Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
    The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built,
    Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

    When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
    But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
    With a fat little driver, half out of the sled,
    A sock in his ear and a bra on his head.

    Sure as I’m speaking, he was high as a kite,
    Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
    Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.
    Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree,
    Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee.

    They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
    Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.
    And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
    As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.

    I was donning my jockstrap, to cover my ass,
    When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.
    His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
    He looked like a bum and smelled like a whore.

    “That was some brothel,” he said with a smile,
    “The reindeer are pooped, so I’ll just stay awhile”
    He walked to the kitchen for himself poured a drink,
    Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

    I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
    The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.
    Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
    But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

    The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
    The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.
    A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find,
    And six pair of panties, the edible kind.

    A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
    And several more things I shouldn’t even mention.
    A fuck ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
    And a dildo so long that it lay in a coil.

    “This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,
    So I’ll leave ‘em here, and then I’ll just split.”
    He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
    With one tiny butt plug stuck under his sleeve.

    He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
    Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.
    In time he was seated, took reigns of his hitch,
    Saying,”Take me home, Rudolf. This night’s been a bitch!”

    The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
    “The best thing about pussy is you can’t wear it out!!”

  • Let Us Learn From That First Thanksgiving

     

    • Let us learn from that first Thanksgiving
    • The concept of acceptance.
    • For it was the Indians who graciously accepted
    • The foreigners without proper visas.
    • For they realized that acceptance was moral
    • Whether it was legal or not

     

    • Let us learn from that first Thanksgiving
    • The concept of acceptance.
    • For it was the Indians who graciously accepted
    • The foreigners without proper visas.
    • For they realized that acceptance was moral
    • Whether it was legal or not

     

    • Let us learn from that first Thanksgiving
    • The concept of acceptance.
    • For it was the Indians who graciously accepted
    • The foreigners without proper visas.
    • For they realized that acceptance was moral
    • Whether it was legal or not

     

    • Let us learn from that first Thanksgiving
    • The concept of tolerance.
    • For it was a holiday of mixed religions
    • Both Christian and Indian.
    • For a celebration among different people
    • Is a celebration of humanity, not theology.

     

    • Let us learn from that first Thanksgiving
    • The concept of learning from other cultures.
    • For without learning how to harvest,
    • The English non-farmers would have perished.
    • So also, if we do not learn to learn from other cultures
    • We too will perish.

     

    • Let us learn from that first Thanksgiving
    • The concept of a proper paradigm.
    • For this first harvest was a product of teamwork
    • Where both sides learned, lived, and enjoyed.
    • So too we need to live through collaboration and cooperation
    • Rather than fight through competition and control.

     curiousdwk

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • NOW YOU GET ANGRY

    To the tea party people…. . .”Another side of the story . . . . “

    After The 8 Years Of The Bush/Cheney Disaster,…

    Now You Get Mad?

    You didn’t get mad
    when the Supreme Court stopped a legal
    recount and appointed a President.

    You didn’t get mad
    when Cheney allowed Energy company officials to dictate Energy policy and push us to invade Iraq.

    You didn’t get mad
    when a covert CIA operative got outed.

    You didn’t get mad
    when the Patriot Act got passed.

    You didn’t get mad
    when we illegally invaded a country
    that posed no threat to us.

    You didn’t get mad
    when we spent over 800 billion (and counting) on said illegal war.

    You didn’t get mad
    when Bush borrowed more money from foreign sources than the previous 42 Presidents combined.

    You didn’t get mad
    when over 10 billion dollars in cash just disappeared in Iraq.

    You didn’t get mad
    when you found out we were torturing people.

    You didn’t get mad
    when Bush embraced trade and outsourcing policies that shipped 6 million American jobs out of the country.

    You didn’t get mad
    when the government was illegally wiretapping Americans.

    You didn’t get mad
    when we didn’t catch Bin Laden.

    You didn’t get mad
    when Bush rang up 10 trillion dollars in combined budget and current account deficits.

    You didn’t get mad
    when you saw the horrible conditions at Walter Reed.

    You didn’t get mad
    when we let a major US city, New Orleans, drown.

    You didn’t get mad
    when we gave people who had more money
    than they could spend, the filthy rich, over a trillion dollars in tax breaks.

    You didn’t get mad
    with the worst 8 years of job creations in several decades.

    You didn’t get mad
    when over 200,000 US Citizens lost their lives because they had no health insurance.

    You didn’t get mad
    when lack of oversight and regulations
    from the Bush Administration caused US Citizens to lose 12 trillion dollars in investments, retirement, and home values.

    You finally got mad

    when a black man was elected President and decided that people
    in America deserved the right to see a doctor if they are sick.

    You are mad that the total budget is so high, yet you don’t get mad that the Defense Budget is way out of proportion to other countries or our other discretionary spendings. 

    Yes, illegal wars, lies, corruption, torture, job losses by the millions, stealing your tax dollars to make the rich richer, and the worst economic disaster since 1929 are all okay with you, but helping fellow Americans who are sick…

    When I see that you are exercising critical analysis and displaying empathy towards others, especially the vulnerables, then, and only then, will I respect what you say and how you feel.