The Art of Making Love

changes are never easy, even now

when I began writing seriously, many years ago, sometime after high school, after I came to the realization that I had been writing poetry most of my life (just never knew that's what it was) (thank you to my old English Teachers). I sought the advice of some of the most relevant poets of our times. Some responded, some didn't, but the conclusion I finally came to was none of their opinions mattered, the only opinion that mattered was my own.This was written about the time of that revelation. This goes out to all the 'teachers' in my life, most of whom taught me more then they ever realized, just not the things they thought they were teaching.

early morning light,

remembering

making love to you

last night,

everything

ceasing to exist,

and for a moment,

life was only

a transition,

changing

with each touch

of your tender lips;

I am told,

by those

much wiser than I,

that words must be

learned,

that to live,

you must study

someone else’s life,

if this is true,

then I suppose

you cannot make love

without watching

xxx movies;

I say,

make your own words,

live your own life,

learn to make love

in your own way;

then;

it will be your words,

it will be your life,

it will be your love;

not some teachers.

.

.