Parcequedonc - Man to Woman

Man to Woman

Introduction

I know I'm going to get shit for this,
and I know
I deserve it…

I know I vacillate
from perhaps passable attempts at objectivity
to petty, bitter subjectivity…

All I can say in my defence
is that I am not simply trying to demonstrate my objectivity…
I have been charting
and logging
my course
and I'm now trying to hold it up,
vacillations and all,
for you to see…

The only merit in this that I can think of,
besides the personal one of helping me to unclutter my brain,
is that it might be useful
as research material
or evidence
as, in the enlightened future
when all the petty posturings of the human male
become transparent
even to the thickest of us,
you try to discover
what we've done to you…

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Apology 1

Whenever I think of you
I feel, in fairness,
that I have to begin with an apology…

For one thing,
as you well enough know
everything I say
I say from advantage…
I am the Caucasian male;
the statistical probability of success;
the chief plunderer and manipulator
of planetary resources
and social systems…

I love you so much…

I miss you so badly…

But I know I have never allowed myself
to let these emotions rip
when I have been with you…
I know I have never lived up to the dream
while the reality
has been taking place…

You lovely creatures…

You visitors
from somewhere better…

You give so much…

How did such mean spirited
narrow minded egocentrics
ever merit
cosmic partnership
with you…

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Man to Woman's Instinct

Instinct
is different
in you and me…

In me,
it's short-sighted and egocentric…

In you it's massive
and wide like the universe…

One of the ways I can tell
is by the differences
in our humour…
Whereas mine is complete
and the occupant of my full consciousness
yours is rarely complete
and merely stirs the lighter edges
of your immense consciousness…

Also in the use of 'logic'…
Whereas I am happy to apply the entirety of my consciousness
to reach my 'logical' conclusions,
you sense the inapplicability of the parameters
and distrust the assumed constants of 'logic'
and are reluctant
to commit your consciousness
in the same way…

But also in the use of detachment…

I can get outside my specific consciousness
whereas
I don't think you
can conceive
of such a thing…

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Man to Mother

I recognise our separateness…
It arose out of a kind of distance
which emerged out of our love
and our love was based on that distance,
that separateness,
that mutual respect…

When first we knew each other
you had uncritical love
and I had total dependence…
This metamorphosised
into critical love
and less dependency
and from there to love
and no dependency…

And now I feel as though
I'm ten feet tall and still shooting
and as though I shot past you some time ago
and that part of that shoot past
emerged out of your selflessness…

Even though the shoot past
is illusory
it can still be seen as a careful construct
emerging out of your careful love…

It's supposed to happen, I think, anyway
in all relationships like this…
Fledglings are supposed to become better fliers
than their parents…
But it so rarely does…

The fact that in our case
you succeeded in creating the illusion
so successfully
takes my breath away;
humbles me;
shines for me
like a clear example…

And I know you do it by instinct
because I suspect that's the only way
it can be done
and suddenly recognising the clear running of that instinct
in you
moves me
like a particle accelerator…

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Aside l - Arctic Night

In the long night,
the Arctic night,
the light takes on a new meaning…

It is not pervasive;
cannot be taken for granted…
It exists in little pools
of isolated artificiality
or in cold and gentle washes
of stars
and moon
and aurora borealis…

In the long night
the sounds, too, take on a new meaning…
A voyager in the long night
finds himself switched less to an analytical mode
than to a simple perceptive mode…
He moves, with his faculties,
through the dark,
keen and alert;
prepared to respond
to very basic stimuli
in a very basic way…

But the Arctic Night
is also
a day night;
a land-of-the-midnight-sun night…
There are long shadows,
half-lights,
and deep tranquillity…
The lakes and rivers are as warm
as in the day…
You can see through the forests
and, though the birds are quiet,
you can feel the life
in much the same way
as can, one imagines,
the good old owl…

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Man to Woman Separating

It's as if,
in the process of becoming separate from you,
I have gone through separations
with about seven different people…

Is there anything remaining
through which you haven't put me…?

And it's not even as if, once completed,
I can scratch one of those seven off the list
because they also have the capacity
to recur…

Why didn't you just get off my back when I asked you…?

One of your paranoias
was that I was responding to you as a potential type
based on my experiences
with another…
What has actually happened now
is that I find myself responding to other women as potential types
based on my experiences with you…

I know that this news
will give you no small sense of satisfaction'''….
The strange thing is
that I know too
that your satisfaction won't be the kind
that 'normal' (your term)
people find much joy in…
It will be a more isolated,
close to the chest,
subjective,
defensive,
survival orientated kind…

It won't give you pleasure;;;

It will just fit into your survival oriented reality;
your survival oriented
sense of justice…..

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Aside 2 - Goodbye to Peter the Shrink

Images of your rejection
floated by…
I read the first paragraph of your letter
and felt that perhaps
an overdue parting of ways
was at hand…

I remembered once thinking,
as once I sat there
listening to you saying how interested you were
in my ex-wife's situation,
that your interest stood equal chances
of either getting her off my back
or failing,
but that what was actually being gambled
in exchange for those chances
was our perhaps tottering friendship…

You were going either to succeed or fail,
but, regardless of which,
I stood to lose you as a friend
in the process……
And I can remember weighing the odds
and thinking
that, yes,
such were the circumstances,
it was a risk I was prepared
to take…

It was certainly at your place,
before this letter came, that I began to sense the first heavings
of your righteousness
and your first playings upon
morsels of 'inside information'…
And these began to suggest to me
the initiation
of the parting of ways…

But I read past the first paragraph
the next day,
and realised it was something different…
Something else had happened
to which my situation vis a vis my ex-wife
was almost completely incidental…
I say almost completely
because there was still the underlying message
about the potential rewards of reconciliation…

But basically
what I was reading
was a celebration of your own reconciliation
with your own ex-wife;
a celebration
of the termination of a fast…

Whether the fast was self-imposed or not,
your obvious pleasure at its termination
was very moving…
And I felt very moved
to be so closely associated
as to be the recipient of the letter…

Your last lines asked me not to feel
that a reply was required…
And, in the sense that you were simply celebrating
a personal event,
a reply is clearly not called for…
…and,
…therefore,
I hesitate…
…because,
in the sense of the underlying message to me,
I feel there is a lot to be said,
But,
I give up,
and, not wishing to invade your new mood,
I stop…

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Man to Woman Who Stood Him Up

I really wanted to bring you out here
just to establish a bit of short term routine;
a little glimpse of intimacy and familiarity
which would be halted painlessly anyway,
by circumstances,
before it got out of hand
for either of us…

I couldn't believe what I heard
coming out of your mouth…

It was such an unexpected quarter…

You were worried
about my apparent "desperateness"…
But my desperateness, if that is what it was,
arose out of your unequivocal promise
and the fact that I'd dropped, irretrievably,
my other options
on the basis of that promise…

As you were talking, my enthusiasm died…
It died partly because that's the way you wanted it
but also partly because
I was beginning to have a horrible realisation
about whom it actually was
I was sitting there talking with…

How could you waste my time like that…?

How could you allow your inertia
to string me along like that…?

I know that, although you are very tough,
there are elements of temerity in you,
but surely not that much…

I began to sense
that you just didn't know
anything…

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Aside 3 - My Ship

My ship carries on…

Regardless of sets back
and defeat,
it carries on…

My ship is lighter than it used to be…
I've chucked off a lot of gear…

I can feel its lightness,
but there is no noticeable increase
in speed…

My mobility is, in theory, greater,
but it is counter-balanced
by a shortage of fuel
and space parts…

I live in a caravan…
The caravan is in a field…
The field is safe…
I have a typewriter…
I have a banjo…
I have a little van…

I am ready…

I am waiting…

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Man to Woman Who Went Away

When you go
it will be like night time;
it will be like a door closing;
it will be like
missing the boat…

We should have got it on…

I loved you so much…

It was difficult to pin down
because it wasn't really your language
or the things you had to say…
It was more like a world view you had
which allowed more variations in the assumptions;
in the standard
moral/ethical stances…
Although a lot of up-to-date people
agreed with the need for and the coolness of these variations,
very few ever allowed that
to affect their day to day living…

You did…

Sometimes I can tell you experience
the little pains
associated with living by the variations…
You are sometimes like a schoolgirl
who has just learned
that the boy she loves
loves someone else…
Your head suddenly almost imperceptibly
tilts forward
and your eyes go down…

I think it must be the little pains
that make you so beautiful…
(Maybe it's the narrow avoidance of them
that makes so many people
not so beautiful…)

I am sure
going to miss you…

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Aside 4 - The Trouble l

That's the trouble you see…

You might find my work disjointed in places;
disrupted…

You'll find the mood changes
from a slowly developing emotional
to a sudden enthusiastic analytical…
But that's how my mind works,
even as I'm going through
a situation…
The analytical doesn't in any way detract
from the emotional…
It really gives the emotional
an added dimension…

(Even a non-emotional added dimension
will increase the sensory range
and add to the general feeling…
If emotion is a response to sensory information,
then the general feeling
must be
the state of the recipient nervous system
prior to it's triggering
an appropriate response…)

When I'm feeling despair,
I'm also noting it…..

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Aside 5 - The Trouble 2

People will say
that when I write directly,
speak directly to or about
someone specific,
that my writing contracts
revealing the true nature
of my narrowed mind…
But for me,
it's more like this…
In the general, the abstract,
my mind floats blamelessly
and unblaming….
It functions and makes it's associations
as if its owner were bodiless,
as if
he had no aspirations
or drives…

But in the particular,
the direct and specific, it's like having to stuff that same mind
into a bottle…

In order to function in the particular
there are one or two factors
to be born in mind…

First,
you cannot show people where you are at in the general
without establishing, with them,
some ground rules
from a point of condescension…

Second,
you cannot establish with them
these ground rules
from a point of condescension…

Third,
you cannot eliminate condescension
without a full and frank participation
in the particular…

But,
above all and most important,
if you cannot show people where you are at in the general
then,
unless you happen to be a Buddhist monk,
you will become very
very
lonely…

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Man to Woman Who Bargains

You deny me your body…
You wait for me
to commit myself…
You are not comfortable with the generalised love
which is what I feel for you…
My love for you is so complete…
I am so uncritical…
And yet I fear you…

I fear your bargaining,
your ultimate reliance on traditional values
about which I am completely indifferent as regards myself,
but about which I experience much guilt
as regards you…
What I mean is
that although you cannot 'betray' me in the traditional sense,
it appears that I can 'betray' you
and cause you much distress
- a fact which
inhibits me sharply…

But I am surrounded by so many of you
and I crave your bodies,
quite apart from the companionship I seek,
and must either engage in 'betrayals'
or relegate myself
to what I feel will become
a neurosis creating form
of sensory deprivation…

Even now,
I can hear the harder ones saying,
"tough bananas,
that's your problem…"…
And they're right,
it is…

But it feels like I am a mammal
and in need of the tactile contact…
I don't think I can live without it…
I don't think I can get it from other males
and I think I am not given to the usual male diversionary activities
such as empire building
or thrashing the competition…

So,
even now,
and against my principles,
I negotiate…

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Somebody Else's Property 1

Because I've chosen to stay separate,
I get isolated…
Because I haven't indulged myself
in the myth of eternal partnerships,
I get left out…

I only have myself to blame…

But,
in order to try to feel better,
I sometimes indulge myself in sharing the blame
with you
and with others of my friends and neighbours
who have, in my view, copped out
to the greatest western myth…
I indulge myself in criticising
your deference
to the socio-economic pressures
of uncritical material consumerism which functions best
when people are working in pairs
and feathering nests…
But I don't always feel better…
Sometimes my isolation is such
that I begin to suffer from a sort of static build up
on the surface of my skin…
My whole body
builds up this peripheral charge…
I get irritable, belligerent, aggressive…
I look for excuses
to let fly…
It's like walking across synthetic carpets
in a dry office block…
When you reach for the door handle,
sparks jump…

I know why…

It's because the surface of my skin
is not being earthed out
by human caresses…
And I sink into reflecting more angrily
on the fact that by far the greatest majority of people
I'm likely to meet in the run of an ordinary day
will be in couples…

They say you have to work at these long term relationships…
That you need commitment, self-sacrifice, patience, perseverance…
Well I say
that you have to work
at not having them…
That you need commitment, self-sacrifice, patience, perseverance
to keep your options open
in order to retain the freedom
to respond to individuals
as an individual…

Just as it is difficult to live with someone for ever,
so it is difficult
not to live with someone for ever…

But which is the less self-indulgent…

Which is the more constructive
in terms of development of self
and in terms of
development of the human race
as a whole…?

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Somebody Else's Property 2

I miss you…
But (and I have to say this),
it's not just you…
It's also
all of the other people
with whom I can negotiate
deals… (why does that seem so funny}
You already know this
but my "carefully inculcated guilt responses"
never allow me completely to assure myself
that you've clocked it…

It was a very good deal we had…
I don't know if you realise
how much I loved and respected you
for that deal…
I used to watch you
when we were very close together
to see when your will power
would pull you away…
I used to watch you rise and turn and disappear
as your other compelling commitments
triggered your responses…
When you were with me;
you were with me completely...
When you weren't,
you weren't at all…

I find that it's not often
one can make good deals with people…
Sooner or later, most want, arbitrarily/unilaterally,
to change the terms of reference…

You never did…

Whether it was because you had too much to lose
or because you are like that anyway,
I can't tell…
All I can tell
is that, regardless of your reasons,
watching you function;
watching you interact with me,
and knowing that the terms of our deal
were contained, unaltered, in your beautiful head
is one of the most complete
and moving visions
of my recollection…

I wonder if it gives you pleasure
to know
my restraint;
to know
that I will never intentionally
complicate your life…
you can say, "Arrive…",
and I arrive…..
You can say, "Depart…",
and loneliness,
distress,
and static build up notwithstanding,
I depart…

Clearly,
there are always the details
to be negotiated;
the where, the when, and the wherewithal…
But I wonder whether, in fact,
that too gives you pleasure
- the knowledge that, once negotiated,
the details as well
are abidden by…

When I arrive
I grab you,
I bury my face in you…
I stay…
I stay…
And when the time comes
and you say, "Depart…",
I go…

What I feel for you
is partly wrapped up in the discipline I enact;
partly wrapped up in the discipline
we share…

But do you
get off on it
too…?

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Apology 2

I, like a pig,
sit….
I survey what goes on around me…
I am protected by my fat,
my flatulence,
my gristle,
my sheer girt…
My self-satisfaction
is complete…
I sit
in my own shit..

As people pass by
I watch them through puffed lids…
They signal furiously
to acquaint me of my condition….

They imply that I am insular,
that I will suffer from my lack of contact,
my lack of context;
that I am missing the entire point
of my stay in this reality….
I ignore them…

My self-destruction
is complete………

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