Thoughts on the Train

If you have a wonderful man, Who is your whole world, Who isn’t perfect, But perfect for you, Who works hard & would do anything for you, Who makes you laugh, Who is your best friend & sometimes Your only friend, Who you want to grow old with (if you don’t kill him first), Who you are thankful for every day, Brag…….. (Author unknown) I tried to research who wrote this but came up with several people who just re-posted it on FB. If you know the author.....please allow me to give credit were credit is due.....this one is quite good. Red

The masks falls away,  and the mirror no longer plays  its complimentary tricks.   A face looms out of the silvery sheen echos of youth evident in the fine lines, wrinkles, gray hair, or lack there of.   Eye's that once shown with the innocence of youth are dulled by years of responsibility, blame and fault. Faced with who we are Will we:  Cringe, Cry, Run and Hide, Or will we stand tall and proud. Accepting the face in the mirror, along with its, past, present and future Deeds, anxious about those to come. Until we see who we really are can we ever truly meet our potential? Look in the mirror Face the facts of your life's choices Do you smile with the joy of your accomplishments? or do you shy away from the negativity, leaching out of that dark dimension, beyond the glassy reflective surface.

I smiles as I kiss him good bye It is a First date But seems like it's more.... And so I smile I listen to "call me maybe" On the way home A smile on my lips Comfort, Is the word to describe it Ease, Perfection in the search The song screams, Boy since you came into my life You make me feel right Call me maybe ..... Except there is no maybe I ride the train thinking of his eyes his smile his laugh his touch To my music I turn, The romantics "The secrets that you keep" Plays but a renovated dance mix "I hear the secrets that you keep" Except I feel I have no secrets from him Why should I keep secrets, There is no reason. I get home..... I undress I think of him I fall asleep Dreaming of the our first date, And wake up still smiling. Today will be a good day.

The mist The mist is thick Swirling Depositing dew on my hands and face. I stand in the mist as I search  What am I searching for? my dreams? my life?  my way? A path must exist,  I feel it's pull,  but in many directions. I am torn and  confused, Unfocused. A light shines in the mist and I walk towards it.   Images of my life appear. Decisions I've made, Good and bad. I would like to change some. The light goes out,  and I am once again left in darkness with the mist swirling about my feet. In the distance I see another light. I head towards it  but as I get closer the mist thickens,  Nearly impassable. I can barely make out images of myself.  Happy holding hands,  enjoying my   life.  I want to see more but the mist obscures my vision. Another light appears.  I head towards it easily. The images are clear here. They are of my sexual...

Every year I look forward to December. Not particularly because of the expectation of waking up Christmas morning and opening gifts. I buy myself gifts the time! I don't enjoy the shopping, crowds, and the feeding frenzy on the sales, but I do enjoy the crisp morning air, quiet cloudless nights full of stars, and the lights that decorate the streets in my city of Astoria NY. I have incredibly fond memories of being in our family home, up on Mount Hood in Oregon. One memory sticks out in particular. I was probably 15 or 16 years old, and I couldn't sleep.  I crept downstairs into our living room and peered out the window, over the back of the sofa. It had been snowing all day and snow had accumulated in drifts around the railing of our house. The lights on the sidewall of our house illuminated the snow as it was slowly falling. Behind me in the 6 foot tall stone hearth fireplace the embers of that evenings fire still glowed. The house was completely silent as everyone else was...

I slipped out the door into the dark cold November night. As I walked the few steps to the subway to begin my lonely trek home, the smell of you is still on my fingertips, on my sweater, in my hair. I absently touch my lips feeling the rough spots from where your stubble ground against my flesh in our passion. It hurts but it is a pleasing pain. In my mind I can see you lying next to me your brown eyes looking right through me. Seeing me for who I really am, and I am not afraid. I worry that I will disappoint you. I worry that I am not what I seem. Yet I know your intuition is accurate, you let that slip. So I will trust you and trust myself to finally be myself. Be the man I have hidden away. Be the man that you are attracted to. Be the man you see clear as day. Eric Hodgson November 1st, 2011

I won't let you close enough to hurt me. powerful words. especially when starting out, on the adventure of a new relationship. I will let you close enough to hurt me, but lust is present. there is more to this than initial physical attraction. most would run away, afraid to put themselves out into the void of uncertainty. when do you open yourself up? What signs do YOU need to feel safe in your security, that your feelings will be reciprocated, rather than rejected, deserted. We all know, nothing ventured nothing gained but what are you willing to venture? to risk? To lose? I won't let you close enough to hurt me, but does that make me close myself off, to the wonderful rewards, from taking such a high risk? The fear is bone chilling, it is an opening up of your deepest darkest self, in hopes that your mate will take what is offered, and nurture it, except it, love it as they do you. I won't let you close enough to hurt me, but what you wi...