Letting Go

Time to live the truest way

The time is now
5 hours behind where the time is now with you
And the blues are calling
The Blues are strongly calling

There is life, moving through all of us
Live that is and life that has lived
In one form or another

Three flights in one dream
One definitely or defiantly (?) from the ashes
Two in reach and one in-finite

Thank you for you
The lessons of our time continue to peculate

Mistaken moments
Delayed baggage
A break
Revealing….. Unveiling….????



The touch my soul body has been craving and calling
The touch of women, far from afraid of the wild unpredictable feminine ocean,
Knowing her in their own bodies too
Their heart-filled hands moulded, caressed and invited the age old freeze into an almighty roaring thaw.

And muscles tightened from age old memories of being held down by force,
Relaxed and opened with a gush of emotion
That freed familial patterns
Opening me to a span of the dense and subtle

Men have been surprised that I’ve cried when first making love
Not realising that a full opening cannot discern between all that needs to be released…….
And that longing, oh my fucking god that longing to really open
Unconsciously channelled through my own distorted masculine
Became a push in me,
Which then, of course, I met in you……..

You asked me ‘can we get through this’
And in all genuineness I said that I didn’t know
I so wanted it to be possible
And my heart had opened wide to you
And my body had never felt so at ease in such deep rest with another

There was so much sweetness in you and in us
And we were so blessed to be held by forests of trees, Lilly covered lakes, blue-belled meadows and the centre fire of the earth lodge
We were truly gifted in many, many ways

I miss you
And I hold back
Still wanting to be in some control
Still fearing the push from you
Afraid to fully let go


By Gary

Like earth as water (Oct 2017)

You inspire me and challenge me

Stretch me

knead me

bring out the real

to be the best in me

Living free



I love I love you deep pool of ~beautiful Jen~ xXx~

Stillness speaking dreamscapes await

can’t be late

Remember when we used to speak in crimson star lit tones of wonder barefoot in clover?  …


Flipflopping Kindness     (3rd June 2018)

 When we sat on your dads sofa,

The last time we spent physical time together

Your hand on my back felt so kind


You’d bought me yards of black velvet to wrap and roll in

But the night before, even though I’d shyly suggested retiring to bed early

We’d stayed up late helping your dad figure out his attendance


Later as we lay chest to chest, drifting into sleep

My heart flipflopped as she opened ever more deeply

To the love I perceived as growing between us


This was the last physical connection

That we shared in our one year of love

Before you told me that you doubted our physical intimacy


Before the month of intense and destructive communication

Where your push met my freeze

And assumptions, projections and accusations replaced the flipflopping kindness



Inner sense (May 2018)

Cervix tightened once more
Such clear communication from the temple door
Inner protection
Inner peace
Juice can now flow in
Sweet release


Tobacco offered with Gratitude (May 2018)

The last breath,
A deep inhale returns a memory
Of the Jersey girl’s sister
Assuaging her guilt of giving in to the youngsters plea
To join in her habit.

As rising vomit was choked down
The young woman spoke to the twelve year old girls,
‘I should make you finish it
That way you won’t try it again’

Three years later in a horse’s field
I promptly lay down after the first puff
Knees collapsing as I sunk to the earth
Committing to a sixteen year long partnership with the chemically induced herb

A two year on / off battle ended that relationship,
Pride and disdain took the place of the grip of niccotine
Later relief and gratitude came in by the back door;
As more was felt and less was held in….

Until a wild summer two cycles ago
When at a premature funeral
A congregation of ‘ex’ smokers gathered outside as they always had
To share a handmade fag
The depth of the inhale, its intoxicating release
And the freedom from control
Led to wild debauchery,
Free love and experimental passion

One cigarette a year became the new normal
Enjoyed in far away exotic lands
Until the meeting of the rebellious stranger
For whom she undermined her plans
Within six months the old normal had returned
And she watched herself with fascination
Reliving parts of her life
She’d believed she had forever left.

And now she moves again towards healing
Asking for grace and holding from the skies
To reach the top of the tree for which she is destined
To no longer waste time in compromise







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