Sacred Illusion

When she’s feeling her worst,
the only comfort she wants
is to be told everything will be OK.

I’ve learned to tell her this,
even though I know it’s a lie.

If I am ever beside her on her deathbed,
and I tell her that,
I fear she’ll leave this world with the realization
that the lifetime of comfort
that gave her a sacred sense of home,
was nothing but an illusion.

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Lightening Bugs

You can tell a true lover by the gifts they give.

When you only get them on occasions,
dutifully,
when millions of people probably got the same thing,

Love is coerced.

The true lover finds you gifts
randomly, accidentally;
the world is the gift shop
for a museum about you.

She brings them to you
in cupped hands,
like a child who has found a lightening bug.

The cuff-links you didn’t know you need,
the poet you love
who just wrote a new book,
a small notepad that fits in your pocket
because you love to write.

The occasion is always,
the reason is just because.

The gifts are the reflection of your presence
in your absence,
and you will never throw them away.

Past Tense

I speak of her in superlatives
that are tragically in the past tense.

When the wisdom you gain with age
illuminates only failure patterns you can’t break

When progress becomes finding flaws
that have no solutions

Faith becomes a suspicious option.

How ironic that the most sacred thing you are left with
is a spiritual investment that can only pay off when you’re dead,
and the superlatives about life
are always in the past tense.

The Question Again: Who is the Perfect Person for You?

While I was out for appetizers and drinks with some folks from work, the question that those of us who are single get popped up:

“Who is the perfect person for you?”

This is a difficult question to answer for numerous reasons.

First, define perfect. If I am still single, it might be because there is no perfect and I am unwilling to compromise (at this point).

Without the cynicism, I know one quality would be someone with a sense of astonishment for life. I don’t want to be with someone who goes through their days with a ho-hum, kind of bored, just grinding through life attitude.

That’s just one quality. Of course, then there are the physical attributes. Factor in all these high expectations, and you see why I am single after all of these years.

Maybe next time I am asked this question I’ll say, “I want someone as good as me.”

Study Determines Bloggers are Better in Bed

A recent study of 500 people, 250 of whom were bloggers and 250 were not, determined that bloggers are ranked as “excellent in bed” by their significant others 32% more often than those who do not blog.

The study by Mike Kopp, an independent marketing consultant in San Francisco, took three months to complete.

“I did the study because my hypothesis was that bloggers would be judged as worse in bed. An ex-girlfriend of mine got obsessed with blogging, to the point where she would be up late at night doing it. It began to feel like her whole reality was just fodder for her blog. I blamed our lack of sex life on her blogging.”

Kopp, who is 39 and self describes himself as “a marketing geek, a data junky, and fantastic in the sack” used two interns from Cal Poly SLO to carry out the study.

“I was stunned that the results came back radically different than my prediction, so I had the intern re-poll 10% of the bloggers significant others to ask why.”

The answer came back: passion.

“What we found is that people blog because they are passionate about something. These are people who stick to their interests long after others have moved on to something else.”

Asked about alternative explanations for his ex-girlfriend’s lack of interest in sex with him, Kopp replied, “Well, I’m starting to think she didn’t lose interest in sex, she just lost interest in it with me. And I can’t understand that, because I’ve been having sex with myself since I was 13 and a day doesn’t go by that I am still not interested in doing myself.”

Kopp added that his next study will “determine whether interns are better in the sack.”