Poland P. Drirhaas

Finding Catharsis from a Secret and Lingering Longing for Someone Special

My Michelangelo’s David at the Library My heart is astir; beating wildly / my words will pour onto the page without restraint from the musings of my mind and heart drowning in endorphins until these receptacles are empty of their wonder of you; until my imagination exhausts itself in admiring you with rambling prose / heart blindsided by your sweetness, kindness, innocence, humility, deference; reason blinded by unanticipated longing, unemancipated lust / and you, so humble, are completely unaware of the turbulence you’ve excited within me / my lust for you could be a raging sin; but writing about you douses the flames, somewhat / I am stupefied by your unassuming, incomparable magnificence / I am stunned at how effortlessly, unknowingly you have shaken, taken captive my cerebral, circulatory, biochemical systems / the gravitational pull of your tenderness have expanded time, dreams, yearning in my inner, isolated, cold spaces above and below and drawn me close to awe, closer to affection, and closest to the need / I am disoriented by you—confounded; driven, unsatisfying, to words—weak, useful, necessary substitutes for hidden, volcanic desire; to unsuccessfully dampen ignited ardor and channel my longing for you into words you have not heard / you inflame me to write, but an emotional imposition draws out the ideas and insanity / writing is a catharsis; to not flood the habitations of thought and emotions with toxic eros / I don’t want repression to distort this alchemy of enchantment, affection, burning, and burgeoning love into hidden indecency and besmirch the thought of your innocence and beauty; misrepresent or distort the sacred relationship I want to have with you / that does not devolve into insatiable craving or cheapen my deep affection and appreciation of you by promiscuous and debased erotic imaginings / I pray only the intensity of eros rather than its ravenous consumption would ignite and maintain a devotion for you that is as pure as your essence / I long for a secure and sacred bond with you that does not dull or destroy your guilelessness and sweetness / the epiphany that “there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy” accosted me, arrested me in your presence, your essence, your allure, your humility; listening to your voice; enveloped by your surprising and ethereal tenderness... in an instant I saw my first rainbow; rode my bicycle as a child down the street with gleeful abandon for the first time; felt the chilly, invigorating splash around my ankles of the Atlantic’s frolicking waters fleeing the silver horizon for the safety of the golden grains around my feet; got my first gold star on my homework; went for a top-down drive for the first time in my 1968 convertible; had my first romantic crush... it was you! / there was a reawakening, a reminder, a sensual renaissance, a forgotten hope I knew not existed / I pray that I can thank you personally, intimately, exclusively for the welcome tumult your sweetness, innocence and deference have agitated within me... I was sound asleep, dreaming when you resurrected me from the cold sepulcher of asexuality; aroused from the stupor of existential monotony / you’re not nude but your beauty is uncovered for all to see; I saw it when everyone was looking; you don’t have the visage, but your inner and bodily form—you were Michelangelo’s David at the reference desk / two gray mother of pearls and golden lips resting atop a clear, serenely beautiful lake / chin, torso, soul: you are unforgettably, simply gorgeous—sublime, striking, galvanizing / your understated, powerful magnetism has diverted my gaze and heart from the debased and pedestrian to rarity, affirmation, luminescence, a desired, needed intimacy / I thirst to embrace all of you; be an integral part of those life influences that protect, support, and admire your benevolence, purity, and gentleness from a place of endearment, intimacy, and trust / no wish to monopolize; only the desire to occupy a familiar, trusted, sacred, unobtrusive place in your sphere of existence / a place of emotional inebriation; a place where lust is rebuffed, yet hunger has been awakened, and the hope of a noble love being our souls’ desire / you are a glorious anomaly that holds my hand when you smile; eye contact invites your sun’s warmth upon my face; my skin tingles when your lips move and speak; your words caress my ears, lips, heart / you’re an exemplar that exceeds the summit of Mt. Everest; the artistry of the Sistine Chapel; the engineering marvel of the Great Pyramids; the natural beauty of the Galapagos; the allure of Mona Lisa’ inscrutable smile / you push me into the depths of swirling, tumbling emotions and rocket me with a heart-pounding rush to the unexplored mental and emotional cosmos where I am light-headed and can hardly breathe / Thanatos defeated—a strong and sensitive Sisyphus successfully moved a man of discipline, restraint, gray, ambiguity, existential disinterest, emotional disengagement; you tripped him; disarmed him—unexpectedly, unwittingly, wonderfully—and unmasked him adroitly; he stands before you vulnerable, virgin, and expectant / I can smell the exquisite fragrance of your innocence; I want to share and combine my innocence with yours / I am motivated to act; to reciprocate with tenderness; motivated to speak yet immobilized by your nature... but a thick fog of doubts; our great differences—notwithstanding our shared humanity and needs; a dreary, gunmetal-tinged London or San Francisco bay morning; God’s warnings; society’s accommodation; a parade of disagreeable, discordant realities roll in, and there’s no visibility to share with you my desire to cover you tenderly... Longing and love unexpressed is a prayer uttered in desperation... often unanswered; a miracle in hiding yet uncovered / When I think of you, I see an intimacy that’s pure, supportive, nurturing, encouraging, life-renewing, reflective, joyful. / I was looking for you; unaware of the search but not the marvelous, priceless, impossible discovery of you; you are a treasure / do you live here? / why are you so caring? / What is the percentage of nature versus nurture in you? / what have you done to me? what’s happening to me? / I ache for you intensely / my heart is dizzy from pitching violently to and fro; it desperately wants to find welcome, stability, repose in your heart; it’s intoxicated by your innocence and the thought of you / it’s awash in euphoria; it wants to thank you with my words, my eyes, my lips, my arms, my soul. / I thank God for you! / the brilliant unforeseen delight and sublimity of you / Oh, you are my magnificent Michelangelo’s David at the library. © 2019 Poland P. Drirhaas