Archive for the ‘Exposure’ Category

1985-09-04

Wednesday, September 4th, 1985


 
         The summer's gone to rain
           the murmurs of water and leaf.
         These gray skies and cool air
            speak to me of my Vancouver winters.


 
         Indonesia and Singapore and Canada
           begin to loom behind the rain
             and the ending of this unique summer.


 
         The fear of loosing things
           is with me, sometimes.
         In the mirror, in my relationship with Lise,
           in my job, in my son's years,
              and in Rose's patience.


 
         And I wonder if I was ever
           stronger or weaker.
         Before, I used to stare my fears down
           with the promise of the future
         but now I've lived, I'm waiting no longer to begin,
           and I know the future as well as the past.


 
         Now, when I confront my fears or the rain,
           I can bring no illusions.
         Now enlightenment is not an option
           among my future dreams.
         It waits for me like steel trap
           behind each burning moment.
         And it waits for me to arrive,
           dead or alive.


 
                              gallagher
                              4 September 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1985-11-20

Wednesday, November 20th, 1985
            That I had opened to Lise
            means the hand of Fate can move there.|

            This dark eyed woman who captures me so;
            I want to look deep into the mystery of it
            for life is made more of this,
            the spaces between men and women,
            than of anything else.

            In the darkness there I will find everything
            I've wanted to learn.
            Just as I've found the warmth of her heart
            and the musk of her inner thigh
            so can I find more
            by accepting everything Fate offers
            through her.

            Come, dark eyes, come and burn me down again.
            Come, with your mystery and your love,
            with your mother's heart and your lover's passion.
            Come with love ascending ... or departing.
            Love me or hurt me, cherish me or scorn me.
            Today Fate's hand moves through you
            and I will listen to It
            through this love, yours and mine,
            until I can rise to the dance no more.
                                    gallagher
                                    20 Nov 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1985-12-05 condensed

Thursday, December 5th, 1985
Timeless sane Helen gave me an afternoon from her busy life.
Its almost ten years since she was 23 and I was 29
and we discovered our passion together in a physical storm.
And more than four years now 
since we've been lovers
on that sunny afternoon
when she was pregnant
and Canada had taken me.

She listened to my problems today
and met my every word
with intelligence and clear perception.

And around us the restaurant turned, unseen ...

The talk turned to 'us' 
and how 'we' had been.

I asked her if she was curious 
why I wanted to see her....

I told her that I needed 
contact with someone
who could refresh my memory 
that love and sanity can coexist.

She and I had always been simple 
and sane and direct with each other.
Never stumbled or leaned 
or gave each other anything
other than passion 
and a deepening camaraderie.
Both she and I had security
so there was nothing to lose 
or gain for us.

It seems to me that love 
has always been a battlefield
with small moments of peace 
among the endless struggles to win,
or to dominate, 
or to feel secure or wanted.

But, somehow, she and I had always 
escaped those traps.

And the space between us,
whenever we met,
was filled with the peace 
of love and passion
combined with simple sanity 
and common sense.

I began to remember our passion to her,
of why sex had been as it had.
And, together, we talked about the reasons.

It was empathy, pure and direct;
what one felt, the other did.
      
And we began to remember together...

And suddenly we were back...

In the Psychology building for that 1st time.
Kissing on the wall in Belmont Shore.

And those nights, 
outside the computer center,
when she would face me 
on the seat of the car,
with her legs high against my arms,
and would then slide slowly down onto me
while I held so very still...
as the cars and the night moved around us.

The words and feelings flowed
and we smiled...
remembering the sunlit 
Palos Verdes fields of grass.
     
We talked about our lives, since then.
My many lovers 
and her quiet life with Yung.

She had tried a few other lovers 
but could never get by
their complications 
and hassles 
and possessiveness.

And I, I had tried many lovers 
and had found much.
And I knew that I loved womenkind 
beyond all measure.

But, I said, ...there had always been
that sanity and passion with her
that I had never found again. 

Something seemed to open in her then
and she began to tell me about her husband, Yung,
and an old girlfriend of his in Korea.

Of how it had cut her so badly 
when she had found
his hidden love letter.

She told me of her incessant torment
and how, when he had disappointed her a second time,
her love for him, 
which had come finally with the twins,
had withered away.

It was a story she had never told before,
this passionate and very private lady.
Until today, when she shared it with me.

I was deeply touched 
that she would share these things with
about her deep love and pain.

In the end we parted 
with nothing agreed or denied between us
except that the peace between us
was deep and proven.
                                    gallagher
                                    5 dec 85