Ambrose Ambles

Concealed.

In the writing of a recent story, I stumbled upon the realisation of this “place of beauty”, not quite of the heart or the soul…a place neither of love or soul, but rather of the “felt emotion” of a connection between a man and a woman of such power and intensity of want it becomes a hunger supreme for both a ”spiritually joined “desire and a sexual desire…the character in the story says: “…it was at that moment we touched…not physically, you understand, Stephan..nor of the heart or soul as they say…but another place, another part..a part of ourselves that has no name…but beauty…an un-named beauty that is so pure between a man and a woman…” ….For I believe these are the “gates” that open to this beauty…a pure beauty “beyond good and evil”…The ancient Greeks knew of this place and sensation..it is why the mythical Ulysses had himself tied to the mast and his crew’s ears blocked with wax so they could not hear the ”songs of the Sirens” as they sailed past the Isle, for they knew such a lure to that beauty would drive men mad…they named it ; “Agape”….and I am of the opinion that the mystery of this place of beauty that could be neither located in the soul or heart drove the ancient scholars to try to intellectualise it to prove their legitimacy of learned theory…and so was born “God”…the universal answer to all mysteries..

 

Somewhere..

Between the soul and the Divine,

Between that love you seek and the love you find,

Is a place of absolute beauty,

Is a place concealed and undefined.

You may not physically touch this place,

Like you may not touch the divine..

Only worship the possibility,

When there is no possibility..; only desire.

You cannot intellectualise this place,

Like you cannot intellectualise grace.

And like grace..once you think you have it,

You’ve lost it.

It is an avalanche of emotion..an ecstasy so nice,

It is a want of devotion, comes at a price.

You can never find this on the cheap rack,

You can never keep this with a half-filled cup.

And you ask ; do I desire thee?

What can I say to you..does the eagle the sky?

And you wonder; will I touch thee?

I say yes..yes, there, I will touch thy..

In that place with no name, no shame..

In that place where unfeigned lovers go,

Between love and the soul, between the soul and the divine,

Not of your body..but that subtle beauty in you..

Not of this world, but where pure delight is held.

not your body..but that subtle beauty within you...

not your body..but that subtle beauty concealed within you...

Where there is no name, no shame..

Only the Concealed.

That instant when one "touches" the secreted beauty in another person,

So a thrill overwhelming...a desire fulfilled..

So ecstatic I weep with the pleasure...

The pure…

I touch tender thou mons Venus pubis, with the touch of a lover's breath. Would I be guilty of hubris if such thoughts were made public...but no...it's a thought too private for that...It's MY thought...for me and thee..Only me...and thee. But guilt is the other thing...knowing “society” expects us to not have these erotic feelings, So do we suppress them...deep and long.....far too long..far too deep...So we hide such feelings inside.. keep them safe from corruption...feelings too pure of thought...too innocent for slander or destruction..

Now..

I am stealing you for my own selfish wants....

Rapere : To steal….rapio : I steal you away..

Though you may not feel it...I "touch" you now...

In my thoughts..I am imagining you and touching you...

Not only your body..but that subtle beauty within you...

I often wake in the morning hours with a "Glory"...unable to satisfy, bursting within, a pulsating thrust of force unsympathetic..unabating , I touch and feel its satin-skin undulations, it is of you I am thinking..I place a pillow over myself to imagine I have hold of your woman's hips, you lay on top of me and we are…...But no..I just lay there...not moving but I imagine us fucking..I re-create that moment and feeling, When I am so hard..I can feel it entering and touching the confines of your vagina...I re-create that moment ...That sensitive feeling..To enter and lay a surge of semen to your woman’s yielding.

The sexual pleasure overwhelming…

Somewhere between love and the soul,

Somewhere between man and the divine,

Somewhere, once, in the passage of time…

When it couldn’t be named, that beauty unknown,

And in their intellect, in their “vast” renown,

Those wily philosophers and theology drones,

In a fear of erotic sexuality..called it sacred,

Named it; “God”…

Then owned it,

Then placed His sterile kingdom at the edge of forever,

So was born a God impotent..placed in His heaven above,

So was born religion to explain the unknown,

So was born “duty” to replace the fickleness of love..

But you and I only, know of that place of beauty…..

We have ventured to such a place...behind the face of love.