The Vulnerability Prism
Tapdance and tiptoe,
The edge, the open window.
Cut glass charisma,
Every time I fall.
My Life in the Morning
In the morning I will awaken
Once awake I will rise from my bed
Arisen I will walk to the bathroom
Inside the bathroom I will turn on the shower
The shower now at the appropriate temperature I will enter it
Warm water cascading over my naked body and stimulating my skin
Hands touch soap and then wash my body’s orifices, cracks and creases
Stand and feel the water beating upon my shoulders, back and chest
Brain sends signal to terminate shower, but no response – right brain pleads, “just a little longer“
Eventually arms send hands to find taps and rotate them closed
Sensing immediate cold I exit the recess and reach out for a towel
This relatively small piece of fabric must be used to dry and bring warmth to my body
Accelerating this process, my hands a blur as they move the towel across and over again
Wet hair still drips and causes rivulets to run down my back
I shake my head and spray the walls and mirror with moisture
Only sort of dry I search for my clothing for the day
I dress primarily for warmth, evaluating options hastily and making decisions which I will come to regret later in the day
Clothed I enter the kitchen with breakfast in mind
Tea? Coffee? Toast? Eggs?
I glance at the wall clock and make rapid calculations, factoring in work start time as x fixed variable
Opting for quick and easy I flick on the electric kettle’s switch
In the time I have before the water comes to boil I extract a slice of bread and insert it into the toaster
Depressing the lever it draws my bread down and in
Dunking my teabag in a mug of boiling water
Dripping splashes of milk
Dipping knife in jam and spreading it thin
My life in the morning
I Once Loved Another
I once loved another
Found succour in their embrace
Entrusted my surrender to intimacy
Felt warm tears on my face
Knew no limitation upon expressions of love
Ingested their saliva wantonly
Welcomed the salty taste
Impressed my form beneath their skin
Reached out with emotional antennae
Rollicked and rolled
Balanced on balls
Gave of myself all told
Before the clinical extinguishing
The killing of joy
All portals slammed shut asunder
Putting lie to the fact
That I once loved another
©Sudha Hamilton
If I Sleep January 24, 2009
Posted by sudhahamilton in Poems & Songs.
Tags: love, love song, lyrics, obsession, poem, poetry, recorded song, sleep, song, sudha hamilton
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If I Sleep
If I sleep, will you remember me?
This night, is waiting, wanting you,
Always wanting you.
Lay back in bed, and listen to,
Soft murmurings, intent on loving you.
In a thousand dreams, of loving you,
I remember, all the pain, and pleasures too.
Let this night be true.
Remember all my loving you,
Wanting to be part of you.
I love to touch your skin,
Won’t you let me in?
Kiss your ever wet lips,
Please let me in.
I love to stroke your hair,
Have someone to care.
Feel you everywhere,
Your in my prayers.
If I sleep, will you remember me?
This love, is eating me,
Always eating me.
Lay back in bed, and come for me.
She cries for God, in her infancy.
If I dream, I always dream alone.
Love leaving, leaving me alone.
She lies, back in bed alone.
Cries for love, but not for me,
Alone, desperately.
If I sleep, will you remember me?
If I sleep, will you remember me?
If I sleep, who will remember me?
©Sudha Hamilton and Philip Korn
Reptiles January 24, 2009
Posted by sudhahamilton in Poems & Songs.
Tags: gothic, love, loves shadow, poem, poetry, sudha hamilton
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Reptiles
In the spider’s grip, we speak of love,
With words - such worthless, weightless stuff.
Promise this and swear thy heart,
Side by side we shall never part.
Moistened eye to moistened eye,
The rational buckles, burns and bends.
Woman weeps, her tears will flow.
Mankind watches and doesn’t know,
That fear drifts through hands that hold,
Fairer, softer, smoother skin.
For beneath the surface, upon the ocean floor,
Lies cold blooded crustacean’s claws,
Exacting vengeance for crimes unknown.
Mother nature turns on phallic fools,
Who believe the witches have a mind.
When feelings fail her instinct finds,
The naked male asleep in bed.
Wraps her coils still glistening wet,
Around his heart and limpid prick,
To feed in savage lust till sick.
©Sudha Hamilton
chris wainwright
April 22, 2011
HELLO Sudha
I enjoyed reading your review about Chaucer……thanks.
I’m currently meditating on Tilopa’s Song of Mahamudra… are you?
I noticed you’ve listened to Osho so think you maybe an interesting person….
I’m currently dying – again – and having difficulty becoming unattached !!!!!! A sanyassin who refuses to die !!!! My god !!!…young osho will turn in his grave, as it were…
All the best to you and yours.
chris wainwright