(Note: Nothing lewd or graphic here)

Part 1. Like A Runner

Like a former long distance runner,

I can’t.

I can only dream of long hard runs

of pounding work outs

any day

every day

exhausting

physically and too often,

Emotionally.

Like some runners the end came slowly

the long runs shorter

shorter, 

then the runner yelled at his legs

come on

get up

go on

RISE DAMN YOU RISE!

Like a fallen fighter,

the body lies

the spirit rises 

but the body lays there

laughed at

derided at times 

by those that once rode him.

Like a former long distance runner

I smile with age

I envy

admire those that can still go the distance

painfully with all that still DOES move

I look at my legs

I smile with memories of long runs

I cry inside,

knowing that no matter how many pills I take

no matter how many therapies,

the runner will never run again.

But the runner dreams

looks at the paths 

the roads he’d like to traverse

and dreams 

of gentle poundings

caresses

and final gasps as he crosses that finish line

again,

like a long distance runner. 

Part 2.

It’s something men ridicule each other about so much of their youth and middle age then laugh about admitting defeat, later in life.

Face it: You can’t “get it up” anymore. So many euphemisms for it but I will try to keep it simpler with less. No erections. The penis will not fill with and harden with blood becoming hard enough to perform the sexual act with anyone. Not even your own hand. 

At first it is damning. 

Horrifying.

Infuriating.

HUMILIATING.

For years and years.

Then I learned to accept it. Accept that it was not worth trying to push back time by going to a doctor and begging for pills or something some therapies to make my youthful hardness come back. That staff of Virility. That which is so much a part of so many mens identities and EGOS. 

When something changes in our bodies and changes us inside, we need to accept it and find the good in it.

Let me give you an example: I have a coworker that has always seen women as things to fuck. As he has aged and had difficulties, he has gone for pills to keep him going. To continue to USE women that way. Pill for a hard cock and EGO attached to that.

I have come to sadly at first and now SAGELY accept it that this is how life is going to be. No more hard pounding sex. 

Then again, no more slow last a long time gentle sex. No more … OBJECTIFYING women for sex.

Yes, I admit that like some sexualized robot I look at many women and judge and assess them. I look at clothed bodies. I assess and judge how they are to me. In good shape or bad? Nicely shaped breasts, butts and a curiosity about pubic hair? 

Yes.

I admit it. 

There is almost a robotic whirring of software in my head and a long distant whisper that enters my loins then fades with a slight smile inside my face. 

I look past the breasts, butts and pubic areas. The build of a woman. A face that may interest or pique my interest. 

I feel NOW like a diver might, swimming deeper and deeper into deeper layers of an ocean discovering deep greater treasures real or imagined.

Thoughts: Hey wow look at her… 

SLAP!

Dammit man you are old enough to be her grandfather!

Yeah I know but that young man inside me thought and felt…

Yeah well you are an old limp dick bastard now that would make a young woman puke looking at her the way you were just thinking!

But she …

Yeah a very nice person. Look into her face before she thinks you are leering. Anxiety. Pain. Discomfort. Ah she had a good day. Something wonderful! Good for her! Her body so ALIVE so animated! SO FULL OF LIFE !

We hope… so much more life TO live.

See kid?

That’s how we need to appreciate women now. Oh hey there is that word that rises above the impotence: APPRECIATION!

A POTENT APPRECIATION OF WOMEN!

As PEOPLE.

Not just someone you may have a chance to FUCK or get to last place just imagining it. 

You look at porn and still try to FEEL something and chuckle to yourself because all those marvelous bodies and you find yourself touching yourself and … wondering what that naked woman in the movie was like as she … grocery shopped. What is her diet like and does she have a work out? What will her body be like in a few years?

Thoughts wander… do porn stars carry the pain similar to me of working in a factory for so many years? All that pounding and tearing every week? Do they think of what their work will do to them in a few years?

The potent appreciation of impotency becomes a GIFT to me in how I see women. I APPRECIATE but no longer have ILLUSIONS of entrance to imagined places. Or entanglements beyond … what?

Intimacy.

That “cuddling” stuff I once thought so funny.

TOUCHING.

A medicine for emotional even spiritual pain that massages the heart muscle as once sex muscles were massaged then let go to put clothes on. 

Intimacy sticks around, embracing. We don’t have to bother with the Egotism of sexual performance and fighting over anything more than…?

Why fight about anything any longer. The Ego takes a journey into the abyss with the arrogance of sexual conquest and erections.

I see women now as a diver 

going deeper 

layer by layer.

I see the face

her body

your eyes 

I reach out with mind 

to touch beyond a woman’s face

into the muscles beneath

into the neurons

the MIND AND EMOTION beneath.

I try to reach through her time and space

imagining a present NOW 

imagining her past back into 

who was this PERSON

old woman

middle aged

Young

Imagining deeper and farther back…

Then back to the present

slowly moving forward 

aging the person I first noticed with that young man’s eyes,

That ages old superficiality of Desire,

Now only a GHOST Desire

flaming into that POTENT APPRECIATION

curiosity

of most women I see.

At first it was a curse. 

A damnation.

We can all be Magicians

and take curses

and turn them into … blessings.

For men,

To see beyond the ghosts of erections we wish we COULD have,

And SEE the beauty of women we can never HAVE nor why WANT to “have” them, ever?

To see the beauty of a person in the NOW. Layer by layer savoring A PERSON beyond the ghosts and fogs of Desire.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s