Thoughts on the Train

Oh, what a world. Do you ever wonder if in a different time and a different space under different circumstances, if another “you” has made that same statement? Maybe it was a young mother watching as the waters rushed through her small village taking her family and her life away in an alluvial flood plain in Mesopotamia. Or maybe it was the Jewish leaders watching as Queen Salome Alexandra died along with the independence of their people. Oh, what a world. Maybe it was a child, standing on Calvary, watching Jesus die and wondering why the act of helping people would deserve death. Maybe it was a crusader sticking his sword through the heart of a “Heretic” wondering, “Why am I doing this?” Oh, what a world Maybe it was a mother holding the corpse of her husband during the black death or a child screaming in fear as the plague doctor comes to take her parents' corpses away. Oh, what a world Or maybe it’s the man holding his lovers’ hand as that lover takes his las...

Fear pain and waiting We all go through these But they mean something different to each one of us.  years of pain and the threat of death. Waiting for the phone to ring. Afraid to go to sleep, thankful that you woke up. I’ve been there before and know I will be there again.    I am prepared. It’s been 10 years. 10 years of near perfection in life. No pain, no fear….trudging forward. And the numbers go up. They go up and my fear and anxiety skyrocket. And I wait…..for the next test. Fear Fear that I will be that helpless individual that relies on others to survive. Fear that I will lose my independence. Fear I will lose my job. Fear of pity and shame. Still, I wait Pain The pain ….24hrs a day 7 days a week. Deep in your bones. In your head, in your heart ….in your soul. And of course in your chest, arms, belly, and legs. Needles the size of ball point pens. Blood pressure crashing. Nothing you can do……. But wait. Pray...

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...

The weather has turned chilly. I see people wearing hoodies, sweaters, and scarves. It's not quite cold enough for hats and gloves, but the wind blows down the street. The trees sway and leaves swirl in peaceful tornadoes. Father winter is on his way. He is breathed a strong breath into the end of summer. Soon the midnight mysticism of winter's first snowfall will cover the ground. Will we be ready? By Eric Hodgson on Oct 18th on the M train.

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

The music drifts through my mind nourishing my senses. I know the soft Celtic beat the sound of the strings, the gentle tone of the piano keys. In the distance, A flute and the soft persistant voice of an angel Repeating the words, "one day....one day" heard but not heard. I feel it in my bones and as I wake to look around, I see the fairies open their wings extending them in the pale moonlight as the night lilies open. Fireflies dance around the newly awoken Fae creating a halo of light among the soft shimmer of gossamer wings. With each opening beat of their wings, faerie dust drifts in the wind, glistening. Off to chase a child's dreams. The Fairies turn, rising in the air in their faerie dance, One faerie, she stops she sees a man, frozen. The moon dust settling on him in this untarnished world. A painful longing coming from him. In the distance, another faerie sees yet another man Unmoving in this, their realm. Sensing the same long...

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...

Come with me on a journey through the night.  The city streets await. Fly with me. Let the avenues we glide down be your fantasy, the streets your fetish. Nothing is lost to you. Open your eyes to the colors of the night. The dark indigo of the night sky, the bright white of the stars and the dull yellow of the waning moon. The blueish white of the streetlamps, and the red and yellow glows of the cars as they pass us by. Feed on fear and drink deeply of the night, untill it pulses through your veins like molten gold. Feast on my majesty and fear my wrath. Nothing can harm you, with me you are immortal. And when the night turns to a time of passion, I shall run my fingers through the hair on your chest. Grasping and tugging gently, then with more ferocity. Run a feather down my spine, and watch my flesh prickle, with anticipated pleasure. Touch your lips, ever so gently, to my chest, my belly, to that which makes me a man. Growl with me in our animalistic passion. Submit to m...

The color of disappointment The wind blows softly, stirring the leaves in the trees I walk along. Green, yellow, gold. Colors shift through my vision as I walk alone. I want to hold onto them, I want to keep them in this happy place. My own little treasure trove. I come upon a lake of deepest blue. The water scattered with the reflection of puffy white clouds mirrored in the blue sky above. A fiery amber jewel strikes the surface branching off like the points of a star...It is the sun. I watched the scene below and know when I look up, it will be the same above. The surface breaks with tiny ripples, ever-growing, expanding outward. It’s glasslike sheen shattered. What has disturbed such serenity? Perhaps it was a fish rising from the murky depths tired of the dark of the deep and seeking the blue of the sky above. Or perhaps it was the touch of a mayfly as it flies close to the surface skimming to refresh itself. I am taken aback by the colors of the scene...

Deep within the dungeon of my heart, Where even I am afraid to go, I see a light. Lost in the dark though I am, This light guides me, Beckoning me to move ever forward, So I follow the light, Seemingly out of reach. Through the walls of the dungeon, Of my own creation. The walls become discernible, With pictures of my past. I linger on a picture, A snapshot in time, It is of you, smiling, In the afternoon light through the trees, With me, laughing, With a joy and heartiness I have forgotten. My mouth open wide, Joyous in my laughter, My eyes tightly closed, So that the crow’s feet of age, Are once again the laugh lines of my youth. I remember now, The light gives me hope, The Darkness seems to lift. The light beckons me forward, So I turn away from this choice memory and follow the light, Onward through the halls of my sadness and fear, The walls become more solid, Clean. Though through this corridor I must trave...