I'm sitting in a coffee shop here in McKinney, Texas with a pile of papers in my lap. These aren't just any piles of paper. Nope. They're Richard Gary Butler's poetry and other writings he has sent to me. I read his poetry daily. It not only soothes my soul, but I'm uplifted and transcended with every word. I don't know why millions haven't bought his ebook, Come With Me, on his sensual erotic poetry. If you haven't bought it yet because you don't know about it, then let me help you. Click here and buy: http://richardgbutler.webs.com/
Here's just a sampling that's on my lap, and believe me, just reading his words does something very tantalizing and amazing to me.
Come With Me
Come with me,
as I take you where
time swirls
through the hourglass,
and the ethosphere
swells with our energy.
Has my touch
sent your world
spinning off
into the cosmos?
Or did the flicking
warmth of my tongue,
bathing your breasts,
wind you?
Have you felt
this planet shake
suddenly for you,
when my body
slowly melted
within your arms?
And, if you can read those words and feel nothing, then get them translated into your own language, because there is no way anyone can absorb those words, those sentiments and not feel the wetness build where your legs cross. I dare you to sit in a coffee shop amidst your friends and not feel the tingling that begins where the sun don't shine and rises like fire up your spine, igniting every inch of your body with the magnitude of possibilities. I read his poetry and fill up on his magnetizing energy that's loving and pure. It helps me transcend the craziness of life and remain in a blissful state.
So, you come home from a lousy day of work. Plop yourself in a hot bath of bubbles while drinking some bubbly and read out loud to yourself:
Do you feel
my tongue,
like open satin in the rain,
slowly create ripples
in your conscience?
Do you feel the shudder
of the universe,
when my touch
on your button
pulled me into you
like a needful rush
of inhalation
from a deep dive?
Really, how can you not just slip into ecstasy and lap the pools of euphoria? Seriously, people! Wake up and feel ravaged. Wake up and allow the bliss to unfold. Buy the ebook and let the bliss out... Read it every day. Take it to bed with you and let it be the last words you see because you will wake up a more vibrant and rejuvenated person if you're willing to allow the words to enter you.
The poetry in this post is from the ebook written by Richard Gary Butler who has a ton of initials behind his name. You'll have to go to his website to download the poetry and photos and see what else this amazing man does with all the talent he has. Treat yourself. Pamper yourself. And for god's sake, buy the book right here, people.
http://richardgbutler.webs.com/
And, by the way, I am not compensated for doing this. I'm promoting his poetry because it's changed my life. His words are so potent, and I allowed them in, which has helped me transcend the stupid and crazy in my life. Thank you, sweet baby jesus! So, if you read this post and still don't buy his ebook, I won't be bothered by it at all because, like I said before, I've transcended the stupid and crazy in my life. Just sayin'...
Monday, August 23, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
He said yes!
Falling Feather
My timepiece shares
Your visage fair,
Etched upon the hours
That sever
Separate hemispheres;
I in darkness,
You in daylight,
Trade the time
Between existence.
You catch the wind,
I, the falling feather,
While you ride the gale
Of fantasy fixed
Between reality.
I, the wild eagle,
Clutch my talons tightly,
Embrace your quivering quill,
Draw you up with me,
Midst the misty mountain heights,
O’er the threatening thunderheads
To our own electric sky.
Copyright © 2003 Richard Gary Butler PhD DD
I watch the clock differently now. I look at it to see if he's sleeping or up. Is he eating dinner or breakfast?
I want to tell him that I miss him, but I don't. I feel him with me always. There is no place where I am and he is not. And when I feel him, it is an ecstasy that brings my awareness totally away from where I'm standing. He takes me to him. Like right now, I know I'm at my desk, but there's not a cell in my body that doesn't feel caressed by him.
I want to say this sounds crazy, but it feels like the most sane and loving thing I've ever done for myself to be open to a man that has shown up so fully and so vibrantly in my life, someone who wants to take me to depths I've yet to experience. He says that we've barely touched the tip of the iceberg, and yet I feel I've delved deeper than ever before. And we're going deeper together.
I was reading some of our correspondence to a friend of mine in Long Island, and she was magnetized by the energy in our words and the resonance we create together. She told me that it was beyond what she could ever imagine between two people, but yet this is what we're all striving for. That's when it hit me that maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to collaborate on a book together, my lover and I.
So... he said yes! Yes! We're writing our experiences together because they are so profound, so astonishing, and sooo climactic. They've changed everything about my life. I view the world through a totally different perspective now. I see through the eyes of someone who has fallen in love with herself, someone who can feel her lover when he's not physically in the room, and view herself through his eyes and know how mesmerizing she is.
This is the most sane, the most real, the most amazing thing I've ever done for myself. I have connected so deeply with another spiritual being that shares a human lifetime with me. I must dig deeply within myself to discover the language for writing about this incredible journey with this man.
I breathe him in right now feeling him surround me. I cannot be any other than his fully and openly. I spread my lips, my arms, my legs, and shout to the world how much love I feel for all, for every single thing I can think of, for everyone I come in contact with, and for every single breath I take. I am deeply and unequivocally in love with life. I have shown up, stood before him, and asked to be flung wide open. He has been the divine within me that has revealed itself as this incredible man who has said yes to me over and over and over. We are the mirrors willing to reflect to one another the most magnificent views possible.
My timepiece shares
Your visage fair,
Etched upon the hours
That sever
Separate hemispheres;
I in darkness,
You in daylight,
Trade the time
Between existence.
You catch the wind,
I, the falling feather,
While you ride the gale
Of fantasy fixed
Between reality.
I, the wild eagle,
Clutch my talons tightly,
Embrace your quivering quill,
Draw you up with me,
Midst the misty mountain heights,
O’er the threatening thunderheads
To our own electric sky.
Copyright © 2003 Richard Gary Butler PhD DD
I watch the clock differently now. I look at it to see if he's sleeping or up. Is he eating dinner or breakfast?
I want to tell him that I miss him, but I don't. I feel him with me always. There is no place where I am and he is not. And when I feel him, it is an ecstasy that brings my awareness totally away from where I'm standing. He takes me to him. Like right now, I know I'm at my desk, but there's not a cell in my body that doesn't feel caressed by him.
I want to say this sounds crazy, but it feels like the most sane and loving thing I've ever done for myself to be open to a man that has shown up so fully and so vibrantly in my life, someone who wants to take me to depths I've yet to experience. He says that we've barely touched the tip of the iceberg, and yet I feel I've delved deeper than ever before. And we're going deeper together.
I was reading some of our correspondence to a friend of mine in Long Island, and she was magnetized by the energy in our words and the resonance we create together. She told me that it was beyond what she could ever imagine between two people, but yet this is what we're all striving for. That's when it hit me that maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to collaborate on a book together, my lover and I.
So... he said yes! Yes! We're writing our experiences together because they are so profound, so astonishing, and sooo climactic. They've changed everything about my life. I view the world through a totally different perspective now. I see through the eyes of someone who has fallen in love with herself, someone who can feel her lover when he's not physically in the room, and view herself through his eyes and know how mesmerizing she is.
This is the most sane, the most real, the most amazing thing I've ever done for myself. I have connected so deeply with another spiritual being that shares a human lifetime with me. I must dig deeply within myself to discover the language for writing about this incredible journey with this man.
I breathe him in right now feeling him surround me. I cannot be any other than his fully and openly. I spread my lips, my arms, my legs, and shout to the world how much love I feel for all, for every single thing I can think of, for everyone I come in contact with, and for every single breath I take. I am deeply and unequivocally in love with life. I have shown up, stood before him, and asked to be flung wide open. He has been the divine within me that has revealed itself as this incredible man who has said yes to me over and over and over. We are the mirrors willing to reflect to one another the most magnificent views possible.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
raising the baton
I stand before the orchestra with baton raised and upon slicing the air, the trumpets blare. The maestro begins her orchestration of the latest crescendo of her masterpiece.
Last night/this morning was spent with a man beyond all my imaginations. I realized that by being with him, opening to him, I have expanded myself. I have flown into the ethers and back, across continents and over oceans, swimming through clouds, and raising my voice in crystal clear echoes of resounding love.
I have opened myself up to a man, laid myself bare before him, and not only felt safe, but ignited with the very juices of life.
I say yes to me!
I rise up and extend my hand in gratitude for his willingness to be that instrument, that prying tool, that was needed to pick the lock I had fixed into place lifetimes ago. The lock is gone. My heart is open, and I am so ready to keep swimming in this ecstasy, still ready to use my voice to moan and purr and scream to the heavens that I am so fully here, so amazingly alive, and so willing to keep raising that baton.
Last night/this morning was spent with a man beyond all my imaginations. I realized that by being with him, opening to him, I have expanded myself. I have flown into the ethers and back, across continents and over oceans, swimming through clouds, and raising my voice in crystal clear echoes of resounding love.
I have opened myself up to a man, laid myself bare before him, and not only felt safe, but ignited with the very juices of life.
I say yes to me!
I rise up and extend my hand in gratitude for his willingness to be that instrument, that prying tool, that was needed to pick the lock I had fixed into place lifetimes ago. The lock is gone. My heart is open, and I am so ready to keep swimming in this ecstasy, still ready to use my voice to moan and purr and scream to the heavens that I am so fully here, so amazingly alive, and so willing to keep raising that baton.
Friday, August 13, 2010
the magnificence of depth
The Lion and the Orchid
In the beginning,
it was innocence,
that charisma of curiosity,
a sense of fascination and attraction,
an enticing magnetism
that pulled her willingly
into his world,
but the more she became aware,
the more she desired to know,
because the more she knew,
the more she found pleasure
in the way he cared for her,
the way he made her feel,
and the stronger her feelings,
the more she came
to understand
that she had always craved someone
understanding enough to acknowledge
the woman she was,
the woman she had become,
and experienced enough to see
the woman she was coming to be,
someone strong enough
to allow her to feel secure and protected,
to really let herself enjoy this freedom,
sensitive enough
so that she could reveal her true,
innermost feelings,
someone to take her
to that special place
where everything is possible,
where the orchid is kissed
by the lion,
and the torrent of a waterfall
plunges and pounds deeply
into a pool
of clear, warm, fragrant waters.
Copyright © 2007 Richard Gary Butler PhD DD
A man has entered my life, my very being, and I allowed his love to transform me. He has given me the greatest gift imaginable -- the profound ability to open completely and honestly to another and love myself all the more. This love, this compassion, this true-ness is what I'm here for, to open to another, to lay myself completely naked before another and expand exponentially.
I spent the day with him, and am with him still. He is in me. Wherever I go, he is with me. We are one.
Yesterday I did a major excavation that laid open the groundwork for filling the void of what I had released. This morning was more excavating, more purging, more releasing. So, by the time I got to the spa and read this man's messages to me, I knew that the excavations were worth it because I had made space available for filling up with the love we could create together.
Right now, sitting at my desk typing on the keyboard I feel him as if he were physically sitting with me. I can feel his hands as "tiny footsteps" skipping down my back. I feel him. I feel him. I feel him. It's luscious and juicy and decadent. His energy washes over me and I'm ablaze in him. I wrote earlier in my blog (about David Deida and his videos on Spirit, Sex, and Love) that I intended someone in my life to open me up so fully that I could throw my arms and my heart wide open and yell a resounding yes to the universe! Someone who would open me up even more to God and take me deeper and deeper and even deeper. This beautiful man took on the challenge with relish and great pleasure, and I'm discovering the magnificence of depth.
Since this was my intention to the universe, since it was my desire, the ultimate experience of my choosing, does that make me the maestro of this orchestration? Or, are we co-maestros and orchestrating each and every morsel of sweet, wet, dripping love around each other, entwining our energies so completely that there is no differentiating one from the other?
I am full. I am overflowing with ripeness, bursting with luscious joy at being able to match the vibration of someone like him. He has taken me "to that special place where everything is possible, where the orchid is kissed by the lion..." I've agreed to diving down that waterfall with him, plunging and pounding deeply "into a pool of clear, warm, fragrant waters." Thank you, my love. Thank you.
In the beginning,
it was innocence,
that charisma of curiosity,
a sense of fascination and attraction,
an enticing magnetism
that pulled her willingly
into his world,
but the more she became aware,
the more she desired to know,
because the more she knew,
the more she found pleasure
in the way he cared for her,
the way he made her feel,
and the stronger her feelings,
the more she came
to understand
that she had always craved someone
understanding enough to acknowledge
the woman she was,
the woman she had become,
and experienced enough to see
the woman she was coming to be,
someone strong enough
to allow her to feel secure and protected,
to really let herself enjoy this freedom,
sensitive enough
so that she could reveal her true,
innermost feelings,
someone to take her
to that special place
where everything is possible,
where the orchid is kissed
by the lion,
and the torrent of a waterfall
plunges and pounds deeply
into a pool
of clear, warm, fragrant waters.
Copyright © 2007 Richard Gary Butler PhD DD
A man has entered my life, my very being, and I allowed his love to transform me. He has given me the greatest gift imaginable -- the profound ability to open completely and honestly to another and love myself all the more. This love, this compassion, this true-ness is what I'm here for, to open to another, to lay myself completely naked before another and expand exponentially.
I spent the day with him, and am with him still. He is in me. Wherever I go, he is with me. We are one.
Yesterday I did a major excavation that laid open the groundwork for filling the void of what I had released. This morning was more excavating, more purging, more releasing. So, by the time I got to the spa and read this man's messages to me, I knew that the excavations were worth it because I had made space available for filling up with the love we could create together.
Right now, sitting at my desk typing on the keyboard I feel him as if he were physically sitting with me. I can feel his hands as "tiny footsteps" skipping down my back. I feel him. I feel him. I feel him. It's luscious and juicy and decadent. His energy washes over me and I'm ablaze in him. I wrote earlier in my blog (about David Deida and his videos on Spirit, Sex, and Love) that I intended someone in my life to open me up so fully that I could throw my arms and my heart wide open and yell a resounding yes to the universe! Someone who would open me up even more to God and take me deeper and deeper and even deeper. This beautiful man took on the challenge with relish and great pleasure, and I'm discovering the magnificence of depth.
Since this was my intention to the universe, since it was my desire, the ultimate experience of my choosing, does that make me the maestro of this orchestration? Or, are we co-maestros and orchestrating each and every morsel of sweet, wet, dripping love around each other, entwining our energies so completely that there is no differentiating one from the other?
I am full. I am overflowing with ripeness, bursting with luscious joy at being able to match the vibration of someone like him. He has taken me "to that special place where everything is possible, where the orchid is kissed by the lion..." I've agreed to diving down that waterfall with him, plunging and pounding deeply "into a pool of clear, warm, fragrant waters." Thank you, my love. Thank you.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
opening a vein
I feel like I'm falling apart as if every cell is crumbling into a pile of dust on the floor. Everything I've ever thought or believed is not true. It's all been a game, a lovely, fascinating game. This excavation has cracked open that fine nugget of resistance, and now it's a dust pile on the floor.
I surrender. I wrote that to a dear friend this morning. When I got to the spa, I found the most genuine, heartfelt note I've ever received. It started the crumbling process. I told him I wanted a relationship where I could open a vein and bleed authenticity. How difficult it is to breathe right now. The crumbling process is painful. Letting go is excruciating, but I am doing just that.
I surrender.
You showed up this morning when your words were most needed. I've been in a mind fuck, and now I cry all those thoughts and let them weep onto the carpet. I am done holding on. I am done.
I surrender. I wrote that to a dear friend this morning. When I got to the spa, I found the most genuine, heartfelt note I've ever received. It started the crumbling process. I told him I wanted a relationship where I could open a vein and bleed authenticity. How difficult it is to breathe right now. The crumbling process is painful. Letting go is excruciating, but I am doing just that.
I surrender.
You showed up this morning when your words were most needed. I've been in a mind fuck, and now I cry all those thoughts and let them weep onto the carpet. I am done holding on. I am done.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
being peace
A few months after moving to McKinney my daughter took up MMA fighting, and during her first fight I was seriously trying not to lose my mind. All I could think of was when she was first born and I got to see her for the very first time. She was perfect, the sweetest round face that was totally unblemished with no lacerations or bruising. I remember how the hair at the nape of her neck would curl around my finger, and how she would lay her hand on my breast while she ate. I'd never seen such beautifully perfect eyelashes or such luscious deep blue eyes. I was in love for the very first time, the kind where there was no ability for it to lessen. It expanded with every second until it could no longer be contained.
And I sat on the couch that night while she was in Arkansas. I surfed the net doing everything I could to not think about what would be happening soon. I kept checking my cell phone, watching the time, reading her texts that let me know when her fight time was approaching.
The first time she ever hurt herself she was eight months old. She had fallen on the heater vent in the floor and cut her knee. We didn't even have band-aids. She screamed bloody murder, and as her father held her, I ran to the store to get the first of many first-aid supplies. I would never get used to the bites, the bruises, the cuts, the fractures, or the surgeries. I would stay up with her all night, hold her until she fell asleep, and never once think of doing anything else.
And then, as a grown woman she chose to get in a ring with another woman and get the shit beat out of her while I sat on the couch just breathing and checking my cell over and over. I don't remember exhaling fully until after she called to let me know she was all right.
Sometimes I still don't breathe deeply because I feel the hurt in her heart. Like this morning when I called her dad who I haven't spoken with in three and a half years. It would only be because of her that I would speak with him again. I told him the reason I was calling, and he went into his usual speak ease like he'd done all the years I was with him. I asked him if it was at all possible for him to show up with an open heart and with great compassion for his daughter, and he went right into a spiel about how divorces affect children no matter what the age.
I know he loves her. I know he loves her so much more than he can ever express, and that may be all that she can get from him. What I would love to see is for her to be able to see her father's traits in her and truly love them. She may never have a relationship with him, but if she could possibly see the greatness within herself, knowing that some of it came from him and appreciate it all anyway. Whew! What a gift. What a gift...
So, in the past almost thirty years I've seen my daughter get injured in so many ways, but it's when her heart is affected that it brings out in me the need to step in. So, I reached for the phone and dialed her father's number, one I still know by heart. I can't control how he handles this or what he does with this information, but I do know this. It was easy to talk with him. It felt good to let him know what was going on with his daughter, and it was a real moment when after hanging up, I felt calm. I was peace. Now that, my friends, was the finest gift yet.
And I sat on the couch that night while she was in Arkansas. I surfed the net doing everything I could to not think about what would be happening soon. I kept checking my cell phone, watching the time, reading her texts that let me know when her fight time was approaching.
The first time she ever hurt herself she was eight months old. She had fallen on the heater vent in the floor and cut her knee. We didn't even have band-aids. She screamed bloody murder, and as her father held her, I ran to the store to get the first of many first-aid supplies. I would never get used to the bites, the bruises, the cuts, the fractures, or the surgeries. I would stay up with her all night, hold her until she fell asleep, and never once think of doing anything else.
And then, as a grown woman she chose to get in a ring with another woman and get the shit beat out of her while I sat on the couch just breathing and checking my cell over and over. I don't remember exhaling fully until after she called to let me know she was all right.
Sometimes I still don't breathe deeply because I feel the hurt in her heart. Like this morning when I called her dad who I haven't spoken with in three and a half years. It would only be because of her that I would speak with him again. I told him the reason I was calling, and he went into his usual speak ease like he'd done all the years I was with him. I asked him if it was at all possible for him to show up with an open heart and with great compassion for his daughter, and he went right into a spiel about how divorces affect children no matter what the age.
I know he loves her. I know he loves her so much more than he can ever express, and that may be all that she can get from him. What I would love to see is for her to be able to see her father's traits in her and truly love them. She may never have a relationship with him, but if she could possibly see the greatness within herself, knowing that some of it came from him and appreciate it all anyway. Whew! What a gift. What a gift...
So, in the past almost thirty years I've seen my daughter get injured in so many ways, but it's when her heart is affected that it brings out in me the need to step in. So, I reached for the phone and dialed her father's number, one I still know by heart. I can't control how he handles this or what he does with this information, but I do know this. It was easy to talk with him. It felt good to let him know what was going on with his daughter, and it was a real moment when after hanging up, I felt calm. I was peace. Now that, my friends, was the finest gift yet.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Broken Glass
Reaching In
Share with me
your sentiment and sorrow,
every element contained.
I entirely embrace you,
utterly,
totally,
as tenderly
as you've held my hand
and heart,
without release,
the moment that
with hesitation
and uncertainty,
I gently laid my presence
into your welcoming acceptance.
Copyright © 2004 Richard Gary Butler PhD DD
This poem is written by someone I just met on Facebook. Richard's got some amazingly sensual pieces, but I found myself drawn to this one because, oddly enough, this is what I strive for. I've had extraordinary sexual experiences, but without the complete and honest opening of my heart and laying my pure presence into another's welcoming acceptance, I feel I've missed the mark. Because I want more.
I want the highest of highs of busting my heart wide open and laying myself purely and unequivocally at a lover's feet. What must it take to have such an open heart? What must it take to be that person who can be so wildly, furiously split open and savoring every single moment with delicious anticipation?
And then, what must it take to allow that lover to do or say whatever he desires and still keep that openness alive and pure and growing?
What must it take to allow a man to take you deeper and deeper, farther than you've allowed yourself to go before?
It's in the letting go, that we receive the purest of love. Ah, that moment of pure rapture, the moment of total honesty laid before one another like broken glass with all edges exposed. It's then that you see so easily how perfectly you fit together, how beautifully you expand into the ethers with blissful joy because you have touched your god within you and discovered who you really are.
And at that point, you are able to let go, to release your grip on his arms, to lick your lips and taste his juices, and know that wherever he goes, however far away he is, you have become more wholly you and his absence depletes nothing.
Share with me
your sentiment and sorrow,
every element contained.
I entirely embrace you,
utterly,
totally,
as tenderly
as you've held my hand
and heart,
without release,
the moment that
with hesitation
and uncertainty,
I gently laid my presence
into your welcoming acceptance.
Copyright © 2004 Richard Gary Butler PhD DD
This poem is written by someone I just met on Facebook. Richard's got some amazingly sensual pieces, but I found myself drawn to this one because, oddly enough, this is what I strive for. I've had extraordinary sexual experiences, but without the complete and honest opening of my heart and laying my pure presence into another's welcoming acceptance, I feel I've missed the mark. Because I want more.
I want the highest of highs of busting my heart wide open and laying myself purely and unequivocally at a lover's feet. What must it take to have such an open heart? What must it take to be that person who can be so wildly, furiously split open and savoring every single moment with delicious anticipation?
And then, what must it take to allow that lover to do or say whatever he desires and still keep that openness alive and pure and growing?
What must it take to allow a man to take you deeper and deeper, farther than you've allowed yourself to go before?
It's in the letting go, that we receive the purest of love. Ah, that moment of pure rapture, the moment of total honesty laid before one another like broken glass with all edges exposed. It's then that you see so easily how perfectly you fit together, how beautifully you expand into the ethers with blissful joy because you have touched your god within you and discovered who you really are.
And at that point, you are able to let go, to release your grip on his arms, to lick your lips and taste his juices, and know that wherever he goes, however far away he is, you have become more wholly you and his absence depletes nothing.
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