small intimacies

m jam orengo we begin at the beginning, again and again let me share this leg with you intimacies from life and art poems from the slug turd . Mcr/Cheshire based . contact : [email protected]

[smallintimacies]

Slug in situ

Nibbling Sedum

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tune in next week, for more………..….…….vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan

[smallintimacies]

on bez

and driving along just a normal autumn road, with the sun so bright it is like a song, and the leaves a symphony, and you feel free, even though she’s eating diesel and spitting smoke, you feel free with it, you feel like anything is possible, you are the forest passing by

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we live in grope

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graveyard detail

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i picture dew

i pictured you

tiny lover

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lullaby of the year before last

we came back

dog nose thrust

to the ground

i am as human as

a desire for losing

we spoke about, nurturing

we were talking sexuality

capacity for pleasure

matter

the opposite     she said

how comfort and fear can become

i think about jolting

speared horses

flank seems to derive from

i think of the bones

skin i can almost sense shining, like

diamond

i feel my heart, feel

the trick

that teaches we are less

between blood and sea and the salt

i want to take

to the water

stick pins and let

flow

a lullaby

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it’s work

dreams quiet moments robins attention the sunset through the kitchen door bad weather dew air cobblestones night time the sea coffee

talk mementoes around gravestones monotony the daily mail weak humour custom exhaustion helplessness bins traffic bedsheets crap

dark clouds moving cross a darkened window cross a darker sky

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morning exposure

if we journey into pleasure, we can see differently

if we forget what we know, we can be closer

if we move out of our own way, we can make space for ourselves and others

if we feel...

i imagine a film of running, slowed down, through the country park, blurred and slow, exposed, candid shots of land in passing, of a candid moment, running is moving into pleasure

i picture the opposite, slow in the rain, in waterproofs, through the air

i picture mucus, saliva, dripping from a mouth in wetness, in dew

i picture dew, holding the morning and singing, with your eyes just a centimeter from the ground

making love with dirt and morning exposure

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The washing up made me cry today

I have to stop calling you up and pretending I don’t miss 

I left my arms inside the hot water and wept

I have to stop pretending I don’t feel los/st

The last time

the last

time

and the last

there’s no pretending

only feeling

and I can’t stop it

can’t stop it

I am being sad

now i have eaten tea and have moved on, for now

the now

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“Not knowing is most intimate, so how can I be most intimate...? With myself, with my painting, with my friends and companions, with the person on the other side.”

Rinzan Pechovnik Osho, The No Rank Zendo Podcast, Meeting a Man of Tao on the Way

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slug drip

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slug and moon are playing

(absolute, relational)

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I still miss you,

or I miss something, I miss a memory, there is nostalgia, there are so many things

I could write an ocean of missing

I could write an ocean of being held

I could write an ocean in and outside of myself, of dreams tied together and sighs, of unthinking moments of bliss, of falsehoods, truths and silence

I could write all this and I could write every angered poem of small furies I have reeled off over days

and they would all be true

I could write I feel better

I could write I am stronger

I could also write I am lost

and each day I am avoiding each day embracing and each day my arms are open and my eyes are closed and I am praying for a wind that is sweet

and things are still soon, a past lover got in touch with me, we haven’t been lovers for 5 years, and I am worry, I will lose myself, my health, my heart, my strength, my hope

How I want to keep you, some part of you, some sweetness, some love

How I am afraid

How I am tired

how I am wanting

to love

when they ask, what are you running from

I am not running from

but I am running with

aching heart and

tiredness feeling

a place gone

I am running into place

and out of I am running from

darkness

I am running with love

I am running into love

when I run

I am running into love

I am running into the rain

and forest

into my body

arms

into my feet and nerves

blood pulsing

heart pumping

I am running into wind and air

water

cold

hot

I am running into

feeling

I am running out of

emptiness

I am emptying

my lungs

I am running in to

softness

I am flinging

open

the spaces

between my chest

ribs

collarbone

layers of muscle

I am feeding

on the world

I am giving

my soul

I am giving

it all

to you

don’t you see

I am running

for you

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soft view 

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she reached toward me