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Thia Jones Apr 2014
Did you really make it
from Chicago to LA?
see the sights, feel the vibes
get your kicks along the way

Did you make any detours
or stay faithful to the route?
to stray can be so tempting
but you need to be astute

I'll admit to being envious
it's a trip I'd love to do
and if you'd done the M4 with me
I'd have done 66 with you

But none of that could ever be
because you were always her's
and parts of that land are no go for me
but it's cool for cis girls to wear spurs

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 1/10/13
Written after my Muse (and her partner) had spent a month driving Route 66. Needless to say, I'm unlikely to ever get an account beyond "it was amazing".
Thia Jones Apr 2014
Seeing guns as a right
means you must have one
to protect yourself
from others just like you

The illusion of opportunity
to make yourself wealthy
by dint of your own effort
when it's all just a lottery

Passing off privilege
as some born vocation
while your downtrodden masses
rot in poverty or prison

Say taxation is theft
to underline your greed
while you live on stolen land
hate those you put in need

Deny health care for all
because you don't need it
it's better they die in pain
than be obliged to the State

Exporting your dystopia
all around the earth
so the rich get richer faster
and the rest increase in dearth

Cynthia Pauline Jones 3/10/2013
This was written after reading in a fairly concentrated period, a number of blogs and articles and trying to make sense of some of the comments written on those.

If you're American and read this, please try to see it as a friendly critique - though not of you personally; as an expression of bafflement on the part of a well meaning outsider, with some of the themes and inherent value judgments that underpin your culture; as a series of questions you might ask yourself about your culture.

Conversations with American friends show that many are just as alarmed and baffled by these aspects as is this outsider.
Thia Jones Apr 2014
You appeared in the room
I noticed you, felt something bloom
you sat near me
we talked
my interest grew
you blushed
my heart flew
my brain turned to mush
insides flipped to goo
I fell so hard
yet what could I say to you
when there were so many pitfalls
so much that might go wrong
so hard to read your feelings
and what anyway
did I want to say
what was this that I felt
what had I glimpsed
the need in you?
the need in me?
recognition of something beyond?
Lust? Yes, that was there
and why should it not be
when so many boxes
were ticked for me?
When it's clear that I'm far from alone
in this attraction to which I'm prone
but then, with so long without
I had long grown to doubt
that I could ever state
my expressions of desire
or to say I'd like to play
with someone who lit my fire
and there's the catch
to make a match
there must be a connection
and yet that connection's the thing
that has the power to make me flinch
and in the past I may have drawn away
said nothing, not made my play
but I felt this so strong
that I had to go along
at first so tentatively
while I tried to probe
to find what you thought of me
then, somewhere along the way
my inner sadist awoke
I longed yet more to play
then all too briefly it seemed possible
that despite all the reasons I'd imagined
for why nothing could happen,
that something, after all, would develop
and I couldn't help but express
just how pleased that made me feel
yet I waxed too enthusiastic
gave the wrong impression
and a reason I had never imagined
arose to **** the mood
the wires, so carefully disentangled
crossed themselves once more
my new found pride lay mangled
broken, trampled on the floor
I sought for answers
but harvested anger
and to my shame
responded the same
yet I am responsible
I am to blame
you may have caught
the wrong end of the stick
but that was due
to how I presented it to you
and I offer my apologies
to admit that in part
your fears were justified
it's true I'd thought ahead
had dreamed that I
might help you fly
that I might take you to that place
where others would fear to try
yet that's not the whole story
it's also true that the trip to the edge
happens one step at a time
and that the very first one was
at the forefront of my mind
and had that turned out mediocre
so that we'd wanted no more
then that would have been all of it
at least we'd both have known
but had it been fantastic
had it been amazing
had it blown our minds
ready or not would be meaningless
and that's what terrifies
and what terrifies entices too
and therein lies the tension
so to disclose I have to mention
that though I shall not cross
the lines you draw
part of me wants to ignore
that they're there at all,
wants to take you and make you fall
at my feet and beg for more
and when I saw you'd cut your hair
I was torn between thinking
how handsome you looked
and feeling it was a cause for regret
that you no longer had enough
to wrap round my fist
and I wonder if your walls are there
to protect you, or to challenge me to dare
to plunge on through and break them down
and even though I've made other connections
have played, will play elsewhere
even though there's one
feels deep and special and true
this tension has me addicted
I feel the pull of you
please don't be alarmed
I mean you no harm
well, not of the lasting kind
I'm aware of the potential
for the tension to consume
to pull into a downward spin
but I won't allow that to happen
and I say these things
not to make demands
not to influence
or force your hand
but just so you know
if you didn't already
that you can break the tension
whenever you're ready
unless it dissipates before that point
of it's own accord
or through distraction
and however this turns out for us
my wish remains that you should fly
no matter whose hand that happens by

Cynthia Pauline Jones, April 2013
This was written for someone who sparked an instant attraction in me and who I thought for a brief period might replace my Muse. It didn't work out, but I wrote this by way of letting go.
Thia Jones Apr 2014
There was a picture
you once took
of the moment
that forever changed my life

Of the virtual you
and the virtual me
becoming virtual we
on a chaise-longue in paradise

You showed it me later
though I never had a copy
now the evidence is gone
yet the image remains

It's etched there forever
in the centre of me
and you once wondered
if it was just about the chase

But those doubts were misplaced
it was never the chaise
for me you see
it was all about the longue

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 30/8/13
Thia Jones Mar 2014
When you're sixty plus and trans
you don't get many offers
so need to issue them instead
when your life's been short of romance
it's hard to break on through
easier for invitations to stay unsaid

If you're younger, more attractive
it can be hard to understand
just what it's like for someone
who is far less in demand

So if I should give an invitation
remember that's all it is
don't let embarrassment appear
you can say "Yes" or "No" or "Maybe"
respond to the invitation given
not to some imagined fear

Cynthia Pauline Jones, March 2013
Thia Jones Mar 2014
How is it that
someone into whose eyes
you've never looked
someone who would never
offer more than crumbs
and most of those illusory
who could leave you
dangling on a thread
for days and weeks on end
hoping you might be graced
but knowing disappointment
was more likely
how is it someone like that
can take your heart
and make it sing,
even as they bit by bit shred it?

How is it that
when you, in the end, protest
it all becomes your fault?

How is it that
even after you think
you've got over it
it all resurfaces
to add yet more hurt?

The next one to break my heart
will at least have to
look me in the eye first.

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 9/4/12
This was written soon after Part One of the 'After Midnight Suite', when I was feeling particularly raw. Initially, I considered including this in that collection, but somehow it just didn't fit.
Thia Jones Mar 2014
If my difference
fuels your desire
you'll need to work out how
you're going to light my fire

You might offer me presents
you might offer me love
you might offer a life of pain
you might offer a life of crime
you might offer me luxury
you might offer to buy my time

I'm an acquired taste
to which you might aspire
but before you get the flavour
first you must acquire

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 11/10/13
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