Scared of success
he tries his best.
The fear of failure
is as a mere trailer
on his life long quest.
To think is to begin.
To sink or to swim.
To swim is to win.
The poet he wrote his rhymes
in sandy climes
where the wash of the words
are blurred by the beach and the birds.
i saw a poster on facebook concerning gay marriage and feel like writing my heterosexual thoughts.
starting with the argument of whether homosexuality is natural or not.
it must be natural for two reasons;
firstly, if a species over-populates an area, the nature of our planet (known as Mother Nature) is to regulate the population through a variety of means, whether through natural disaster, disease or through less babies being made etc.
the more gays and lesbians there are, surely the less babies will be made. i believe this is partly how nature works.
yes there seems to be more gays in the human species than any other but then we have damaged the planet more than any other species. so i believe this is partly a way that our planet keeps us in balance.
secondly; and more obvious to me; the fact that every creature on this planet is natural except for Dolly The Sheep that was cloned using modern DNA techniques.
so besides clones in laboratories, every single living creature was born of its parent in a natural fashion. therefore every single creature alive is natural, whether gay or not.
i saw another poster that says “every gay and lesbian was born of straight parents.” which must be true to a certain extent. they may have had homosexual feelings but were hetero enough to become aroused and make the gay baby 🙂
i must admit that the sight of two men kissing turns my stomach but i wouldn’t begrudge them their marriage. (why don’t i mind lesbians kissing?)
now from a spiritual viewpoint.
what if upon dying, we are reborn according to our past actions and desires? what if our past actions and desires don’t quite ‘marry up’?
a soul may be reborn bodily and yet not ‘fit its skin’ so to speak. may not feel comfy in its skin, hence there are men who think of themselves as women, women who feel like they are men.
(damn, what if schizophrenics have two souls inhabiting the one body? scary thought!)
i would like to mis-quote Jim Jeffries so i will 🙂
“if you don’t like gay marriage, don’t marry a gay.”
i haven’t always thought like this but then i’ve learnt alot during my soul searching on the subject of nature in its many contexts.
as the snow set in with the din of the wind he could hardly hear himself holler;
but he could hear the wolves howling in the hills.
“let’s get this kill to the cave, be brave my brothers.”
“this foal is all snack and no supper.” said one to the other, contemplating their hunger as they trudged through the snow with little to show beside skin sinew and bone.
some grunted, some groaned.
the wolves closing in, collecting their kin, wary of so many men, tasting the blood on the snow as they go.
the cave is in sight, and inside is bright with a smoky glow.
women bandy burning brands of branches aflame to claim the kill for the clan.
once more the wolves are forced to flee into the night under the trees.
i often think;
the rabbits in the field,
the chaffinch in the trees,
the stickleback in the stream,
the goat on the cliff’s edge;
none have ever had hot food.
winter’s kitchen doesn’t contain cookers.
the flowers in the field,
hour by hour they yield
some nectar for the bees
to make honey for you and me.
i would take you in a tangle of our arms and legs
caress your breasts as we share our breath
nip your lips with my teeth
you on top with me underneath.
my lust i bequeath
can you feel my heat?
skin to skin as i slip slowly within
your maternal thighs that would make Venus cry in jealousy
while we breathlessly buck
my hands on your hips and arse
as we thrust and laugh at some saucy shared thoughts
throw you over onto all fours so i can taste your main course
as you swallow this horse 😉
that you’ve created with baited breath
and i nibble where your legs cleft
making you moan with my own in your mouth,
your tongue tickles as we joust;
should i pull out?
wet breasts and chest shimmer with sweat
as we lay in bed
our heartbeat slows to rest as we cuddle, content.
some old fashioned graffitti;
a view across a large swathe of Bedfordshire. when i used to cycle this road everyday, i would sometimes see where it was raining, a slight blurry mist in the distance.
On the edge of Bumpy Lane, a track that may date back to Roman times.
my old daily school walk;
This stone was erected in the Festival of Britain year to mark the birthplace of John Bunyan 1628-1688
And last but not least, just on the otherside of the hill from the last photo, visible on the Bedfordshire skyline for maybe ten miles from certain hills; The Cardington Sheds.
or as us kids nearby called them, ‘the hangers’.
originally used to house airships, the sheds were the biggest british ones in their day, till the R101 took a nosedive somewhere and aeroplanes became more fashionable.
i watched them decay as a teenager, then Hollywood came along and made a few Batman and Santa films in one hanger. the other is currently being restored.