SamadhiMuse

              I spent the afternoon unmoored;
              driven before the pressured storms.
              deadlines, complexity, frustration
              my centeredness ebbed, …naked
              So what, here, now, as the evening falls?
              and Vollenweider’s music plays
              and Gerda’s letter lies on my floor
              and, perhaps, Lise will call.
              So what, here and now…
              Am I that manager, that programmer
              am I those tasks undone
              or Dick’s condescension incarnate?
              I am the father of my children
              the writer of poetry
              the lover of some women
              and a seeker of God in this world.
                              gallagher
                              23 apr 84
                              irvine

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                          Lise
         Come burn me down
           amid music and pillows
         dusky eyes and dim light
           smiles burning engraved
              words like chance strangers
                 wandering between wider forms
              of that feeling current
                 the silence communion dances
         Lise comes from a time of grinding changes
           that bay at her doors these days
         they hem her and bind her, mocking her dreams
           with endless vistas of worst to come
              But here where we can own our hours
                 I find her beyond those definitions
              strong with the wisdom born of struggle
                 and blessed with a spirit that will survive
                    she still knows how to play.
                                 gallagher
                                 25 apr 84
                                 irvine

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                       Lise II
         I long for visions and connectedness
           stare at people as if to see their souls
         wait on the silences within me
           to reveal some spiritual guidance
         and find…
           Lise on my phone in the afternoon.
         I’ve been waiting for more
           when I should’ve been
              giving what I have away.
         That I can speak to her need is a treasure
           that I can feel her spirit there inside of her
              shows my learning is here…
         That I can share the joy I long for
           sing the words I want to hear
         offer the compassion I love
           this can be my only gift
         Believe my friend, believe…
           for you make me believe.
                        gallagher
                        20 may 84
                        Irvine

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

             Sometime when I hear the stories
             of how people abuse themselves
             and others
             I just want to hug someone
             and disappear down the well
             of that feeling
             And not return to here
             where we make such a mess
             of something as simple as love
             Lise can feel that hug
             and that’s what I treasure
             in her
             Like a note that makes you ache
             to the bone
             she can meet me there
                        gallagher
                        14 june 84

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                             Lise’s Birthday
   I’m puzzled at how I can pour myself so fully into another and come away
   so empty.  The moments begin with such magic and end with me feeling so
   drained. I long for the immersions.  To break through, if just for
   hours, into the space of another.  But this landscape I’ve found is so
   riddled with contradictions. openness, strength…the sure knowledge
   that what we are is not at risk if we risk.  Against this the jaded lack
   of investment and the retention of deep control. A dance of incredible
   contrasts between true feelings and true callousness.  It strikes me
   that God, once again, has sent me a mirror of myself to gaze into. I’m
   not sure how it all fits together.  I’ve opened together with another
   before and felt joy and growing.  Have my motives changed or is it she?
   Even as I write I form my answer.  I think its she.  Its worked with too
   many others; that opening and giving has given me more than I gave. With
   her my compassion empties into her as if she were a bar across the poles
   of my battery.  And I wonder if I understand who I’m dealing with. Her
   life seems to draw so much misfortune to itself.  All driving pressures
   to beat her down…and she, like steel beneath the woman, bears it with
   grim tenacity. Darkness in her eyes and her skin and her karma.  Her
   history a battlefield of confrontations in a lustier vein than mine.
   Nothing subtle, just brutality. I feel like some half grown do gooder
   gaping at a soul being hammered…unsure of what I see or why its
   so…guidance and growth raining like stones from above. I’ve always
   sensed the power of her soul and seen the violence of her karma.  Now I
   begin to sense what kind of soul could draw such lightening into it’s
   life. Her husband, Phil, so into spiritualism these ten years, playing
   games far beyond fair or reasonable; knowledge not come to fruition,
   cloaking evil terror. But this is what she tells me.  How should I know?
   Something drew them together, wedded their lived and gave them each to
   the other. Games with the minds of his children, threats of suicide,
   violence and physical domination, psychic draining and forcing.  All
   these weapons whirling in wicked arrays. And she survives.  She knows
   instinctively about spiritualism.  Does she give back his physical and
   intellectual domination in other ways? Has she enslaved his soul through
   love? She told me she’s felt evil come to her twice.  Skin crawling
   permeation of her mind and perceptions and of everything around her.
   Breath shortening and a deep animal fear clawing. Objects diffused with
   evil like a cloud…the room filled, the feeling unbearably tangible.
   What do I sense in her from what I’ve seen and heard? I’m still not
   sure.  I remember Tarot cards told me to stay away from Tarot cards, but
   why that connects, I’m not sure.  I don’t think I’m in any danger of
   being overcome. But what is my purpose here if not to share openness?
   What ever I do seems so ineffectual against the stories running through
   her life. Perhaps, I’ve met a spiritually advanced soul who’s not making
   it this time around and whose spiritual depth so far exceeds my own that
   I’m like a child watching an adult and offering irrelevant advice.
                                          gallagher
                                          16 Jun 1984

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

        Lise came to dinner with me last night
          and I ignited like a bulb
        spirit glowed and our eyes echoed each other
        She spoke of twice she had felt deep evil
          much as Elmer had described long ago
        the musician played and enchanted me
          and I wrote a poem about Lise and I
        She came and we made love
          when John had retired
        and I learned much about her
          from her lovemaking
             and remembered Rose
        She slept as I read her friend Debbie’s poetry
          and then we made love again
        cardboard gestures trying to capture
          our spirit illuminations, …she left
        Risen to work and then lunch
          I was drawn to a node with Lynne
        and Dave came and was my catalyst
          later, as he suggested, I called Lynne
        and cleared my Karmic scoreboard
          and avoided lying to Rose
        Work was depressing so I came home
          and I finished Demian by Hesse
        and lay down and let myself float
          36… and 35’s gone,
             and I’m still unfocused
        youth’s gone and so, too, the excuse
          that I have much time to learn
        Cardboard lovers, lies, alcohol, dissipation
          memories of Canada and mountains and blue skies
        the wind from my patio
          blows cool and pensive.
                                 gallagher
                                 16 Jun 84
                                 Irvine, CA

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         There’s something here with Lise.
           Perceptions cast against the backdrops
         of our agings and experiences
           mourning patience against the morning light
         Warm smiles that have seen much
           shared stories of families and our lives.
         The flicker of low fires against the wind.
           Honesties and compassion
         realisms and understandings
           born of the child’s long passage
         thru the others and our years
           no longer preparing to conquer the world
              but still deeply pressed into living it.
                              gallagher
                              27 Nov 84

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                          For Lise
                  Somewhere she touched me
                    and led me new
                  thru smiles and feelings and honesty.
                  Now I wait on her smiles
                    and feel each moment with her
                  pregnant with the joy
                    of breaking new ground.
                                    gallagher
                                    14 Dec 1984

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

            She works hard here in America
              raising her boy between shifts.
            The French songs take her back;
              she lies on the floor and goes 15 years…
            Paris in the summer of her 17th year.
              Songs and music and magic,
            passion in the air
              as rich as the voices in this music.
            A woman of 35 now with that same passion
              lies transported with memories
            and me, I can see that girl in this woman;
              I feel her there and here.
            She’s across those years now, away from me
              but I’m glad to catch her anywhere.
                                    gallagher
                                    13 Feb 1985
                                    - at Lise’s

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

               Lise…
               The thought of her
               is becoming magic.
               Her eyes and skin
               and spirit begin to pull at me
               with an anticipation
               born of love.
               Smiles now burn at the thought of her
               and the feeling inside
               when she looks at me
               is such a deep echo.
                                 gallagher
                                  13 Feb 1985

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         Lise …
           What can I capture of you?
         The visions I call here before me
           defy words to capture them whole.
         Brown eyes and a strength like Gibralter,
           a heart of compassion, thru and thru.
         I want to say something of loving you
           but my feelings are all that come through.
         These dark eyes and the flickering candles
           and the warmth of your skin melting on mine.
         The frost of your Gallic composure
           and the ache of your mother’s heart showing through.
         But I cannot capture you here clearly;
           that your strength and compassion are one,
         and that the woman who now bends to caress me
           is also my friend with a will of iron.
                                 gallagher
                                 10 April 1985
                                 - at Lise’s

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                                                        May 25th.85
                                        Hey Dennis speaking,
            I’ve been looking at that little girl on my chest of
    drawers.  So cute, so submissive, so sweet.  You, who have been used
    to such strong women.  You’ve got your rock of Gibralter down south,
    keeping everything together for you, and then, there’s me and the
    others, all pretty strong women I suspect.  How are you going to
    deal with all that unassertivness?  What?  What did you say?  You’re
    going to try hard?  A new challenge?  An enlightening experience?  I
    can see your smile from here.
            This is all on my mind because I’m going to miss you so.  My
    feelings have evolved without even consulting me.  So fast.  Nobody
    said, “Lise, we’re contemplating going to the next step up.  What do
    you think?”.  No-o-o-o.  It all happened behind my back.  When I
    wasn’t looking.  And I thought I had everything under control.  The
    girl needed to be humbled.  But then so did you.  The man with the
    perfect life.  Thank God I came along!  You needed me too, sweetie.
            And now here it is.  I love you with all my heart.  Can’t go
    back on that.  Put that feather in your cap, Gallagher.  Another one
    bites the dust.
            Not so, not so.  I’m going to be just fine.  But you are
    going to leave me with such a big void in my life.  I mean, what do
    I do when I want to touch you, kiss you, love you.  How do I do all
    of that long distance?  Who is going to kiss my breasts the way you
    do, who is going to kiss my neck, touch me, make love to me the way
    you do?  Ask your computers.
            It’s not only that.  You have been a great friend.  You have
    done so much for me these past few months.  You have helped me
    financially, emotionally, you have loved me no matter what.
    Truthfully, you have surprised me.  The way it looks is that I take
    and you give.  Do I give you anything?  Can you let me?  I love you,
    sweetie.  And I want you.  So get your beautiful ass over here and
    let me make you feel good.
                                        Lise
    - written the day after Lise’s surgery.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                                             29 May 85
         Dear Lise:
              You write like you are; every stroke cut from
         directness and feeling.  I applaud your letter and love
         you.
              Its a special time now.  Lovers for a few moments
         or a few months between our pasts and what the future
         holds for us after we part.  My sweet sister lover, it
         will be painful for me on that day but now…, now I
         only want to revel in your love.  And what joy and deep
         pride it gives me, that you love me!
              I don’t know if you know what power you have and
         what joy you give when you love.  You wonder if you
         give me anything?  Watch me next time you shine your
         love on me.  Watch the pleasure fill me like the glow
         of whiskey.  The grace of love, unbound.
              You, that person I talk to after we make love.
         The one who sat on the hospital bed and smiled at me as
         I wore her chain.  The one who held my hand as we
         crossed the border into Mexico.  The one who said, “I
         don’t like to play games, I’m not very good at them”.
         THIS lady is the one.
              Cut away all the details and problems of your
         life.  Cut them all away and what you have left is she
         I described above.  The essential woman, Lise.
              This Lise, the one I love is so radiant to me that
         I cannot see the problems.  I walk thru them as if they
         do not exist.  What waits beyond any minor problems is
         so beautiful I can see nor acknowledge nothing else.
              I’ve know people whose lives are “Irvine picture
         perfect” and their spirits are only shadows.  Their
         words meaningless birds in flight, their confessions of
         love nothing but poor reflections of someone’s TV life.
         They are so empty of courage and sweat and spirit that
         I grow disgusted.  (But I never can work myself into an
         actual state of ‘hate’ like the French).  And you, my
         love, … when you say you love me it has meaning and
         value and depth because of who says it.  Because the
         one who says it is someone I both love and respect
         without reservation.
              If I could never love again in this life, I would
         be content to stop here.
              I look around my place.  The candle burns for you.
         I look at women in the market and all I can think is
         how are they like Lise?  I won’t see you for several
         days perhaps but I know you are there 2 or 3 miles away
         and I feel you presence, like the candle I see here,
         burning.  Pleasure and anticipation sit with me as I
         write this letter.
                                       Love,
         p.s.  you told me you liked my poetry.  now I may never
               stop sending it to you.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

            These days pass like showers of silver
            through my fingers
            and I ache for them
            remembering so many empty days.
            Loving them, intense spectacles,
            writing them, ghost images remain;
            passing images, exquisite moments,
            Lise.
                              gallagher
                              11 June 85
            - on mushrooms with Lise.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         Lise calls and can’t see me today for lunch
         or tomorrow evening;  control in her voice.
         A letter will be written today explaining…
         We hang up, softly; I should wait for the letter.
         Outside, in the 9am sunshine of a 90’s day
         I sit.
         Eyes closed, sunlight and apprehension mixing.
         I don’t want to wait for a letter
         wondering all day what it will say
         and all day tomorrow,
         wondering if it will come.
         I’ll call…
         If it’s goodbye then let’s get to it.
         If it’s not, then let’s say so.
         I should wait, be considerate, give her space
         but I’ve never been able
         to wait on potential pain
         if I have a choice.
         Now is the only moment to deal.
                              gallagher
                              1 jul 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                                         july 1st 85
                          My love,
              I’m suffering from growing pains again.  I
         think I have sprouted up these past couple of
         years more than I have in the past ten years.  And
         it makes me feel like an adolescent, awkward and
         uncomfortable.  Self conscious and insecure at
         times.  When my life started unrolling I used to
         say I felt like a 15 year old.  I did not know
         then, how right I was.
              I am so very alone.  I have been tested to
         the limit all at once; and I am happy because I
         survive well, and I make it no matter what.
              Its like, ‘Let’s see how many things I can
         screw up, how many time before I learn my lessons.
         And I do learn, painfully.  And I like it.
              But the bottom line is that while its so easy
         to love the strong beautiful person inside of me;
         it takes real love and guts to accept the other
         me.  I can do it where other people are concerned,
         I love you; all of you, totally; I love Aaron in a
         similar manner.
              But me; I want me perfect!  Well!  Think
         girl, grow up!  Love makes me vulnerable and open
         to the core, and I just didn’t want it to be this
         way with you and I’m mad at myself for having let
         all that insecurity surface, and worst of all to
         have let you in on it.  The hardest thing for me
         to do tomorrow will be to face you again knowing
         that you will not look at me in the same way; that
         now you are going to be careful of what you say; I
         don’t want that to happen.  What a fool I am.  Let
         me write it again so it sinks in.  I AM A FOOL.
         And its OK, once in a while, isn’t it?  I always
         say you need to be humbled; I think I need it much
         more than you do.
              I hope you still have respect for me, I
         couldn’t, wouldn’t want to see you if you didn’t.
              I want you very much.
              I love you very much.
                                 Lise

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         Like steel in the fire is she
           the hammer blows
         can only reveal her soul.
           Humbled, she will find strength.
         And from the fires of insecurity
           she will learn that deep acceptance,
             which is, Damascus steel.
         I watch the blacksmith raining blows
           and see the dross that falls
         and comes the soul that winnows free
           from each of us.
         This weathered wood, our bodies,
           and the immortal steel of our souls
         make my heart ache
           with the beauty of their enduring demise.
                                 gallagher
                                 02 July 1985
         - about Lise

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         If I’ve touched her life to the quick
           then another blessing is mine.
         Those eyes grow clearer
           and the spirit more willing
              as if light
                 were growing inside.
         She’ll hear the wind’s calling
           on her own now
         and turn, herself, surely
           to those subtle urgings.
         And I, I can stand in awe
           that that same deep current
         that fills and empties my heart so
           now looks back
              thru the eyes
                 of another child awakening.
                              gallagher
                              11 July 1985
         - about Lise

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

                                         July 13.85
                             My love,
              As I am writing these words, my whole being
         is so full of love for you it’s just pouring out
         of me.
              As a matter of fact, I might just explode;
         suddenly sending zillions of powerful love charged
         atoms all over the universe.
              I am so happy to love you.  And I feel so
         privileged that you love me too.
              You, this gorgeous man with the strong, lean,
         muscled body, and those light eyes.  You, who
         holds me down when we make love, or who slowly
         sensually slides in and out of me.  Sweet torture.
         How you turn me on, how you satisfy me.
              I look at you, this tall attractive man, and I
         am amazed that you want me.  You know how I feel
         about myself, the outside me that is the shell.
              But you know, it hasn’t always been that way.
         There was no magic at the beginning.  I have grown
         to love you.
              And I do love you for the same reasons that
         used to make me smile.  I had to know you, more
         and better - I had to learn about your childhood
         and your life in general to really understand and
         now, well, now I really admire you.  I understand
         and I accept your arrogance at having the guts to
         live the way you want.  Although I feel that you
         have hurt a lot of people in doing so and I have
         mixed feelings about that, but on the other hand
         how many people have what it takes to make such a
         choice about their life.  I know it hasn’t been
         painless or easy for you either.
              I admire you also for what you have
         accomplished professionally.  On your own again.
         Nobody handed you anything.  And your poetry,
         sweetie, your poetry reveals the man lover of
         womankind, endlessly searching, seeking, feeling,
         loving.  How I love your poetry (some of it that
         is!).
              You are STRONG mentally, physically,
         intellectually.  It took me a long time to see it.
              Now don’t get your head all swelled up; you
         still make me smile, sometimes.  Your naivete for
         certain things makes me see the small boy in you.
              You are a very special man.  And I don’t use
         this word lightly.  You are very special.  And,
         sweetie, you got it, my love, my respect, my
         admiration, it’s yours, my gift to you.  And it’s
         free.
                                 Love,
                                   Lise

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         There’s something unraveling in this girl today
           some deeper pattern,
              pattern, that’s starting to fray.
         Too many secrets coming out in the night
           too many feelings
              that can’t stand the light.
         I can see it in her eyes this time
           somethings crossed over the line.
         I don’t know what’s happening
           her eyes have turned in.
         There’s tension around her
           and her smiles are thin.
         Something is happening to this girl I see
           the future is written
              and its not coming free.
         She holds my hand
           and takes me down to this place.
         Where she asks me questions
           that are rapier traced.
         She wants that our truth and love
           become one
         but in the morning’s light
           it’s our peace, lies undressed.
                              gallagher
                              17 Jul 85
         To Alan Parson’s “May be a price to pay”

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —