Now! mom sit down, please
Take a big breath

The person in front of you is not your son
I am not
Your son has never found a way out of you

Here I am, a stranger in your house
But me, mom, I know you more than you think

Tell me the truth
Why are you hiding yourself?
Is dad talking too loud
Is he scaring you?

Don't worry about me
I am made of new
A virility made of heart

I was in a need to meet you
Maybe I'll come back later
I have to go, to load the gun

My inner-children are junkies
And fabulous-hookers
Where are they coming from?
Do you know?

They are sniffing my emotions
As jail-pleasures
They are sleeping in fire desires
So in the morning I can look in peace

But I am not
So, please understand
This gun full loaded
Is chasing the false of ourselves

Mom, don't worry about yourself
I am the hunter
I am the chased too...

"leading me to conclude with absolute conviction
that all concepts together don’t compare with the revelation
that is present in a single embrace of mother."

Wonderful lines.
Embrace of mother embodies everything.

Arsenio,

I've read your poem several times. Tonight it sunk in. Seems to require a special kind of digestion and absorbtion because your word feast is very rich.

There are moments and days where surface word chatter is so very tiring. And yet not far away in one's personal space is a nurturing corner to relax and snuggle into. It's cozy and warm and ever embracing. And no one can take that bouyancy away...not even my own ego with its downward heavy pulls.

Trish~~

dear Arsenio,
I had my last touch, my last hug and kisses from my father on Monday,
and now I walk on,
with the dearest of memories
and a heart so full of love
it embraces
everything.
~ Kate

I miss thee, my Mother! Thy image is still
The deepest impressed on my heart.
-Eliza Cook

i miss her terribly.