What Bedsheets Know

I have noticed that sometimes, my words twist and turn and fill the page with yearning, burning, longing passions about whatever-the-subject-of-the-writing might be. (I say this with a bit of a knowing smile...I guess writing with fervor is just my style.) But with so many poetic turns-of-phrase, I am also aware that, sometimes, things can get a little cerebral. Here's a reminder, though: it's not always that way in my poetry practice. Sometimes, the words just need to say what they're trying to say.

In this poem, there is no striving to say anything deeply-poignant. There's nothing too heady, too metaphysical, too esoteric. I've intentionally ignored any impulse to make a tie-in with the mission and vision of ecstatic poetry. And although writing in this manner is a part of my authentic voice and Path, you'll find none of that here.

What's left, then? Just fire. Just power. Just bliss. Just beauty. Just love. Just passion. Just you. Just me. Just Oneness. Just birth. Just one poet's Truth about love and the act of loving.

This is a poem from Thirsty Camel called "What Bedsheets Know." Give yourself to it, if that feels right for you.

I did.




What Bedsheets Know


there was a time

when i didn't even know

if i would ever again see

your face

but then the universe

in its wisdom and care

showed us that all things happen

just when they should

when we are most ready

to receive


so receive me tonight, beloved

just let me make love to you

just let me make you come

over and over again

once for every lost day that i spent

remembering what it was like

to kiss

your lips


even the poets cannot tell us

exactly what it is like

in those immeasurably-precious moments

when we exist together

not naked on a bed

but alive and pulsing with

the cosmos


so give yourself to me

and i will make you

like a streaming star

across the dark canvas of this night

and my bedsheets

will be the only ones who truly know

what it is like

to be born




© 2015 Brandon Thompson