Sunday, October 9, 2011

Can I kiss...

I try to make your world a better place
I'd smother you in kisses I'd give you outer space
But you're terrified and it's tearing me apart
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart

I know the world's a bitch don't get me wrong
You've got to give the world the finger
You've got to sing a happy song
Making love's by far the better part
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart

And if you've got to believe in something make it us
'Cause we've got love and devotion and trust
What we've got was strong right from the start
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart

I know somebody must have gave you hell
Maybe you went running as the sky just sort of fell
Let me scoop you up and love you as you are
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart
Can I kiss your furrowed brow and calm your nervous heart

I know it's easy to say...

Digging a hole and the walls are caving in
Behind me air's getting thin but I'm trying
I'm breathing in
Come find me

It hasn't felt like this before
It hasn't felt like home before you
And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel
This way

And I miss you more than I should
Than I thought I could
Can't get my mind off of you

I know you're scared that I'll soon be over it
That's part of it all
Part of the beauty of falling in love with you is the fear you won't fall

It hasn't felt like this before
It hasn't felt like home before you
And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel
This way

And I miss you more than I should than I thought I could
Can't get my mind off of you

And I hate the phone
But I wish you'd call
Thought being alone
Was better than was better than

And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel this way
And I miss you more than I should
Than I thought I could
Can't get my mind off of you
Can't get my mind off of you
And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel
This way

And I miss you more than I should
Than I thought I could
Can't get my mind off of you


Saturday, October 8, 2011

Came upon...


...these as I walked by a tiny flower stand on my way to buy vegetables...

I thought about how easy it would be to buy them...bring them home to my love and present them with a flourish...how delighted I am to delight her...for the sheer brilliance of the smile...and that twinkle...

How I miss the twinkle...

How easy it would be...will be...

...until then...


Wanting...

...such an acute, tearing pain...so hard to move my mind away from it...

Sitting here, chewing on a match...the red tip sliding back and forth in my mouth as I ponder the ache, the need...raw...that's the only way I can describe it, because words are so ridiculous to me now.

I have no use for them, really...I want nothing more than to not talk.

Nothing more.

And truly...we don't need to talk...do we? We both know. Her voice pounds in my head all the day long...and I can be as busy as I've ever been, as rushed and pulled in a hundred different directions...hell, I can MANUFACTURE a crisis in an effort to escape it...the Universe just shakes her head and gives a little sigh...foolish human that I am...trying to block the raw...wanting.

Foolish human.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Sometimes.....

.....it's the timing

that's the hardest thing

to get right.

And sometimes...trying to think of what to do or say when you're not supposed to do or say the things that you feel like you NEED to do or say...

...is the hardest thing. When all I want to do is...talk, write, hold, and run...as fast as I can to her. And I've sworn not to.

That's the thing about being honorable and keeping your word...it has to be it's own reward, because it certainly won't feel like a good thing at the time.

Across lifetimes...

...yes, I know.

<3


Thursday, October 6, 2011

And this one...is for you, Homes... :*

You’ve always been my friend
You’ve always given more than you could spend
Not caring for the cost of what you’ve lost

You’ve kept me so inspired
Your love for life has grown and never tired
And so I find I’m here because of you
And I will fight always by your side

When you’re low and beaten down
When you’re slow to get up off the ground
When you need a hand to hold on to
I’ll stand up for you
I’ll stand up for you

You’ve always challenged me
To climb above and see the forest for the trees
To hear the songs of life sung by wind
Just for me

I will be, I will be, I will always be beside you
I will be, I will be there

For you...for me...for us...

Every star I had wished on let me down
Every clover I picked was dried and brown
Every day I got by..
When I met you I recognized myself
You opened my mind & made me well
I had wished for you a million times...

Underneath your sky
There's a place where I can run to
Underneath your sky
I feel safe awakened by you
If I could alter time
I would stay forever in this life
Underneath your sky

I've always been strong but didn't know
I have always been brave but it didn't show
I had never been here till you brought me home

Underneath your sun I am free
Underneath your stars I can dream
Surrounded by your love
I am complete and always will be

Sigh...

...ouch.

Fuckin'...seriously...


Ouch.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Tell me more, tell me more...

I got chills
They're multiplyin'
And I'm losin' control
'Cause the power
you're suplyin',
it's electrifyin'!

You better shape up,
'cause I need a man
and my heart is set on you
You better shape up;
you better understand
to my heart I must be true

Nothin' left, nothin' left for me to do

You're the one that I want.
(you are the one i want), o,o, oo, honey
The one that I want.
(you are the one i want), o,o,oo, honey
The one that I want
You, o,o, oo
are what I need
Oh, yes indeed

If you're filled
with affection
you're to shy to convey,
meditate in my direction
Feel your way

I better shape up,
'cause you need a man
i need a man
who can keep me satisfied
I better shape up
if I'm gonna prove
oh you better prove
that my faith is justified

Are you sure? Yes, I'm sure down deep inside

You're the one that I want
You, o,o, oo, honey
The one that I want
You, o,o,oo, honey
The one that I want
You, oo, oo
are what I need
Oh, yes indeed

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The amazing femme cloak of invisibility...

...and the struggle that they go through to shrug it off.

If there is any counterpoint to the stark reality of butch visibility, it is certainly the femme INvisibility.

There is the argument to be made that there are women who have long hair and dress in a more feminine way...and yet are still visible. My dear friend, Homes, pointed out that there is always something a bit "off" in peoples' reactions to her...and she is arguably fairly feminine in her looks. Talking to her for more than a moment might begin to raise questions...but there's nothing definitive. And so...there is the feeling that something is not quite "right" (and really, what the HELL is "right?") with her...and might cause the more bold to question, while the rest just keep their thoughts to themselves...perhaps pulling out a little passive-aggression to diffuse some of the confusion-driven anger that builds up inside them.

But I'm talking about the high femmes...dresses, make-up, complicated hair rituals...lotions and potions and wraps and scrubs...all made out of things like cucumber and chamomile and seaweed. The ones who go out for spa days with their femme girlfriends and alternately bitch and brag about their butch girlfriends. They have to deal every day with masculine attention that they don't look for...and in some cases, loath. From people who know that they are lesbian, they must endure questions about the butches that they date..."if you're going to be with a woman who looks like a man, why don't you just go out with a real man?" And all of this...underneath their cloaks of invisibility.

How exhausting...really.

They're lesbian...and yet, no one knows. So in order to be out...they have to continually come out...all day...every day. I've heard some say that it is so much easier for femmes because they can pass...not get harassed...really? Easier? So picture a femme...she works in an office. One day, as she's sitting in her office on the phone, a new woman walks by...a butch woman. She drops the phone...because this woman has shaken her...and now, what to do? She's not visible...so the butch will have NO idea that she is a potential mate...and as butches, it can be a hard decision to ask a femme out...the consequences of being wrong can be fatal in some cases. So (and for this thought, I have to tip my hat to a beautiful femme librarian I know and love) it is forever up to the femme to make the first move...or to put herself out in some way to let the butch know that she is safe to approach. So she says something one day while walking with the butch woman down the hall at work...something that makes the butch's ears perk up, and they go out on a date...then two...and on. Now...there's a picture on her desk of her and her butch...and a certain man in another department who has been asking her out for a year happens to see this picture. Now there can be scorn...and there can be harassment...and as many other things as a jealous male can come up with. Suddenly it's dangerous for her...because she's a femme, and she's actually coveted by men...there could be danger for her butch, as well...danger everywhere.

So the femme has to fight...all the time...every day...just as much as her butch lover does, but she has to do it all wrapped up in this cloak. All of this...and she still manages to be the safe haven from the world that her butch needs...the buffer to make life livable. This could manage to wear down even the strongest of women.

The only place these two can actually be safe is in the presence of the other...the only time a femme is truly out is when she is walking on the arm of her girlfriend for all the world to see, and it is during this time that they can be most openly attacked...not only by the outside world, but by the community that feels that they play into gender roles and reinforce stereotypes that the mainstream gay culture (when did a "mainstream" gay culture emerge, anyway?) have been fighting for decades to distance themselves from.

Yes, exhausting...all the way around.

But how else to live?

To all of the amazing, resilient, stubborn, fierce, and beautiful femmes of the world...I bow and offer my deepest gratitude.




Monday, October 3, 2011

When God Made Me Born a Yankee...

...He Was Teasing...

I've made a vow...a resolution...a...a...promise to myself. This promise involves me not turning my television on for a month. I don't actually WATCH TV...I think commercials are ridiculous and far too obvious to lend any sort of grace to the world, so I avoid them by only downloading shows or movies from iTunes and then watching them on my Apple TV. BUT! I've decided to not turn on the television in October. And so...I'm reading...I'm walking...I'm talking (to just about anyone who'll listen, including the lesbian couple who live in front of me who claim to be sisters), and I'm sitting. Quietly. Pensively. Purposely.

Powerful stuff, this sitting quietly business...thoughts littered my brain like so many toys scattered around a play room floor...and until I started to pick each one up and turn them this way and that...examining them and judging them upon their merits, I didn't realize just how distracting all those shiny little things were. And then I started to put them away...in the places where they belonged...until there was nothing but silence in my mind.

So tonight, I sat in my living room and watched the curtain chase itself in the breeze...watched the sky streak from dusky rose to a fiery orange, the rays streaming through the leaves on the tree-I-refuse-to-trim in the backyard...the shadows dancing on the lawn and stalking the fire pit as the sun bid farewell for a few hours. I did all of this...and thought of nothing. I turned off the phone...sat with Ruckus sighing her little puppy sighs while her head rested in my lap, and was quiet.

I decided to add some music to the night and turned on an old Indigo Girls mix that a dear friend (thank you, Homes) sent me once...eventually my thoughts wandered back in, and they circled 'round to a notion I've had nearly all my life. I'm a Southerner. Oh, yes, I am. There was a moment when I stepped off the plane in New Orleans for the first time when I could swear I had smelt that salty, heavy, heady air...laced as it was with the sweet, luscious smell of magnolia...so many many times before. Sometimes we just know things...and I knew then. There is so much of the Southern gentleman in this woman...a hand under the elbow of the woman I'm escorting across the street...taking special care to be sure I'm on the side that the traffic is coming to. The soft, clean handkerchief offered when a tear rolls down a rosy cheek. A tip of the hat...an insistence of not allowing a woman to walk home alone at night...car doors opened...standing when she rises to leave the table, and then again when she returns...a quiet sense of "I'll take care of it for you, my love," and then doing just that...whether it's mending a fence or shaving a quarter inch off her son's door so that it will close without friction, there's a sense of...chivalry...that lives in me.

Some people would describe it as "butchly," or as the way a man used to treat a woman...and I suppose that used to be true, and not just in the South. But here's the thing...those things still LIVE in the South. And yes, I know...they are accompanied by a great many things I'm vehemently opposed to; but the values I'm talking about...well...they're from a different time and place...grace and honor were not just words, they lived and breathed because the people believed in them just as much as they believed in their Momma's peach pie being the magic elixir that would make life right itself when wrong. It was just simply how things were done...and they refused to give it up. I refuse to give it up.

And so...as I was sitting there tonight, I thought about all the creaking old porches I had probably set on for a spell...sipping sweet tea and talking about nothing in particular with my family and friends while we waited for the heat to be chased off by the nippy, jasmine-scented breeze.

When I tuned back into the world...this line was playing..."when God made me born a Yankee, he was teasing."

Oh yes, he was.