This Thing We Do with Words

…(This post was inspired by several of my favorite bloggers…I trust you to know whom you are…fellow bloggers who share this love affair with words, thoughts, meanings, and ideas. Chances are if you even think I am referring to you, I probably am, because you have inspired me in one way or another and I want to thank you all for it.)  😉

This thing we do with words.

We build bridges

from island to island

one word, one stone at a time.

We build monuments and temples

to Love and Lust,

Adventure and Power.

We can spin webs of intrigue

like giant subterranean spiders

with words artfully applied

 and patterns beautiful to see

as Love seduces Logic

and Romance beguiles all Reason.

And tell tall tales

of days of old

of arts arcane and esoteric,

from ransom notes to love letters

charters, pacts and treaties.

A poem, a love letter and a plea for rescue,

a note wrapped up in a bottle,

flung into a sea of humanity,

awaiting reply

from my private island of exile

to you.

We can wax eloquently and long,

or we can get write down

and dirty.

Isn’t it such a beautiful thing

that we can do?

…this thing we do with words?

…free to be whatever we wish to be,

or be whatever you wish we were.

(I can be very flexible that way, you know)

Anonymous sex with words

spewed from invisible mouths

by mysterious lips and tongues

in a bathhouse of like-minded

wordsmiths.

When you touch me

I create you

in the most flatteringly imaginative ways

in my own image

and never worry about overstepping either’s bounds

because honey,

If you only knew what things I do

To and With each other with words,

and in our minds,

in real life,

it might be hard

to ever stopping slapping my face.

But in This Life,

trusting in the fact that whatever it is

I will cheer you on,

and vise-versa

Mon Cheri.

You have Carte Blanche

Chez mois….

(And trust me, I doubt that it violates any rules I know…)

but then again,

that pretty much leaves you free

to be with me as you please,

Madame Weasel…

meet Mister Weasel.

In my mind, your bottom is perfect

in your mind, every part is just right.

And everything is exactly the

the way we like it,

In My Perfect World.

While we do this thing we do with each other

with words.

We can touch each other so intimately

in such private places

deep within our psyches

with visions of forbidden acts

too emotionally dangerous

to allow,

except within our deepest

recesses

kept locked away in a dirty basement

beneath a haunted house

inside (y)our soul(s).

It’s Better Than Sex

only because it really isn’t,

but imagining what it Is in each other’s minds

each according to our own inferences

means that at least fifty percent

of what we get

is what we bring to this picnic.

Because there’s always more

inside this thing we do with words.

Mass media meets social networking

begetting Art

in a mad orgy of

words and thoughts

both sacred and profane.

Noble and Lofty

meats

Down and Dirty.

Spiritual and Ethereal

do a minuet

with

Finite and Practical,

making Voyeurs into Voyagers

and Fellow Travelers

of us all.

This thing we do with words,

My F(r))iend

allows us to span continents, universes

and alternate realities

in an instant that is less than an instant

that arrives before it leaves

and never stops coming

(or cumming).

This thing we do with words

spoken with love

will one day

teach us to love our enemies

once we realize

We all are one.

So even if you say

“FUCK YOU!”

I can either take it as a compliment,

an enticement,

or just smile like I do when I watch a

monkey jacking off at the zoo.

We all are One.

So thanks for the handjob.

We can praise or we can criticize,

condone, condom or condemn.

We can teach, touch, (p)reach and multiply

and be bountiful

and all it costs

is the price of baring your soul

and opening your eyes and your mind

and inviting me in,

be I vampire

or Pilgrim

fallen angel,

 or

grateful worshipper,

or referee

for that fight you’ve been having

with yourself in your mind.

I am here for you

my friend

my brother

my sister

my mother

my father

my mentor

my co-conspirator,

fellow prankster

and lover.

I love this thing we do with words…

If I had to do it all over again

I’d do it all over you.

English: Life, the Universe, and Everything Texture… or in other words, 42 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)