loving ourselves to be free
barefoot
short skirt
tank top on
doors off topless Jeep
hem flapping in the breeze
hot sun smiling down on me
F18s flying overhead; a Maverick moment complete
feeling the heat waves rising off the street
anything less would be a compromise; instead I’m replete
breathing through the vulnerability of being so open
His smile warms her face,
She blushes in return,
Basking in the light of His glow.
~~
He brushes away the wispy hairs
From her face, tucks them behind her ears.
He strokes her smooth skin,
Blowing His heat onto her neck.
To all her hurt parts,
He brings attention.
~~
She loves being loved by Him.
Learning to love the skin she is in.
Learning to be free from within.
Oh, look, another Great Blue Heron?!
~~
An ode to the sun and the wind, who both graced me with their presence this week as I took a topless Jeep road trip across state lines.
Most of the trip was breathtaking and a much needed reprieve from …most everything.
Realizing during this trip how much I still worry about my persona and being accepted by others. And an unexpected Great Blue Heron sighting 20 miles from Raleigh…seems to be my “squirrel!” in this poem.
Much love to you on your journey!
2016.04.19
Photo © Onion | Dreamstime.com
when it’s raining:
there is something surreal about having it rain in your vehicle.
topless, doors off, water dripping down from the sunshade cloud.
water dripping off the brim of your hat, thighs wet, yet warm.
the sound of water splashing as the tires spread the rainwater on the pavement.
drain holes opened, carpet completely absent.
the arc of the pooled water,
as I splash through it.
Makes me feel like a kid again
To jump puddles!
~~
on sunny days:
i call myself an aerophyle; the love of the air rushing in
massaging my flesh, sometimes forcefully,
roaring past my ears, filling them with thunderous sound,
save for the music emanating from the roll bar speakers, perfectly placed for
pseudo-audiophyles like me.
wind threatening to lift away my tac hat.
the sweet smell of the sun on my flesh,
fresh cut grass, the flowers, all around.
it’s sexy: the voyeurism, others watching me
commanding the 6-speed stick clutching, shifting;
doing it again.
skirt flapping in the breeze, tauntingly hiding the
flash of heat between my thighs.
~~
on any day:
the knowing waves from other owners,
Never concerned about cutting corners,
I dominate the curbs with these tires.
With a Prius, I could turn on a dime,
With the Jeep maybe a nickel, but no need to worry about hitting an aerodam!
to appreciate then the openness with which others converse
at stoplights, when in an open Jeep;. the mothers whose children
want one “just like that.”
“Are the doors hard to remove?” they inquire.
~~
this year, on Christmas Day:
converting a closed vehicle to an open one.
enjoying the sun, even in the Winter.
~~
Yep, having a Jeep is pretty fucking awesome.
From a Prius: More miles to the gallon.
To a Jeep: More smiles to the gallon.
~~
Never going back to the little fishbowl!
I prefer the open ruggedness of such a beautiful machine,
to which I can add most anything.
yes, it is lovely, this “Jeep thing!”
Topless & dirty by choice!
Saw a Prius with plates that said “fishbowl” 2/23 and knew it was high time to post this…
~~~
Namaste.
__/|\__ Metta
2016.02.04
Photo Credit: © Krysek | Dreamstime.com – Off-road Photo
The diesel engine revs
as he pushes closer to the line.
She sits excitedly,
waiting for the flag to drop.
Red to green, go!
NASCAR-style shifting for her
while his transmission does the work.
Faster off the line and at 1/4 mile.
Hooray!
Maybe next time he’d win,
had he known
we were racing.
~~~
Namaste.
Photo by David Castillo Dominici at freedigitalphotos.net
She can smell it.
She can almost taste the salt in the breeze.
It’s so close.
She wants it.
It’s just out of reach.
Salty tears sting her eyes.
She sits, patiently.
She waits for another day.
The freedom of the roadless sand will be hers one day.
Just
not
today,
my
dearest
Jeep.
Namaste.
Photo by prozac1 at freedigitalphotos.net
Neutral. Coasting. Sleeping. Dreaming.
First alarm. Stop.
Second alarm. Snooze.
Then times two.
Time check: 6:42
Feet hit ground.
Time to start running.
Inhale.
Clutch, 1st gear, gas, go.
Bathroom.
Shower.
Teeth.
Time check: 7:02.
Dress, scurry. Hurry.
Rush the process. Push.
Exhale.
Clutch, 2nd gear, gas, go.
Breakfast.
“Kids, get your clothes on.” Times 3 or ten?
Make breakfast.
Time check: 7:22.
Pack lunch.
“Kids, get your shoes on.” Really. Do.
Inhale the food.
Clutch, 3rd gear, gas, go.
To the Jeep.
Pile everyone in. Baggage: check!
Everyone buckled?
Time check: 7:42
Let’s go: heading South.
Oh, no traffic!
Stop. Go. Stop. GO!
Sigh.
Clutch, 4th gear, gas, go.
Cutting it close today.
Downshift to 3rd,
Prius going too slow. Sigh.
Time check: 8:02
To the bus stop.
Eight minutes to spare.
Made it, again today! Hooray!
Inhale.
Clutch, 5th gear, gas, go.
Back in Jeep.
Son, let’s go!
I know you want to stay.
Time check: 8:22
Time to go.
Off to daycare: heading East.
Please, don’t cry little one. I’m sad, too.
Exhale.
Clutch, 6th gear, gas, go.
Back in Jeep: heading North.
More traffic.
Up shift. Down shift. Stop. Go.
Time check: 8:42
Another Prius creates an
open right lane.
Another on time arrival.
Inhale, again.
Shift at will, just keep going.
Now, to start work. Busy, busy.
Squeeze in more patients.
Write more notes.
Time check: 9:22.
Remember what?
Keep up. Yes, breathe.
Exhale.
Now to downshift,
Replay morning’s path in reverse.
Tomorrow, begins anew much the same.
Lord, I don’t like this, again and again.
How can I shift?
How can I change this?
Please show me the way.
Namaste.
Photo by Feelart at freedigitalphotos.net
