Love poems to a radical like me

( this is the updated and most recent version of this poem. Updated 15/10/14)
   
 
1.  From you,  
 I do not have to  
  cloak myself  
  in shame  
 nor water down the bursting flame  
  of my spirit  
 till they are embers    
 which I can distract from  
 with song and personality.  
 No, from you there need be no  
 hiding  
 I am the naked  
 unabashed truth  
 I am  
 myself.  
   
 2. When I was charmed  
 by your cheeky smile  
 when I was transfixed  
 by your mind  
 when your values  
 touched mine  
 across the hypothermia  
 of apathy or opposition  
 when I was transformed  
 by your humility  
 I did not ask what  
 your genitals were  
 first  
 and it is truly,  
 irrelevant.  
   
 3. That night    
 I was high as a kite,  
 but without  
 sounding like a cliché  
 though I did  
 feel like a teenager.  
 Laying  
 becoming entangled  
 in your  
  life story  
 unable to leave  
 till I had turned all your pages  
 and there is more  
 I still wish to read  
 and when    
 I am finished  
 (which is never)  
 I will not    
 try to carry you  
 like a possession  
 or put you on the shelf  
 to gather dust  
 but proudly take you  
 as a guide  
 to goodness.  
   
 4. I would show you around  
 watch you beautify the world  
 by its contact  
 with your    
 soul.  
 The serenity of St Margaret's Loch  
 the setting sun from the peak  
 of Arthurs Seat  
 from high on the National Monument  
 you would bless and glorify my city.  
 Auld Reekie would grow more  
 beautiful beside you  
 the Lothian's would be put in    
 the shade  
 the meadows where all life walks  
 would open to you  
 like a garden of promise    
 and all sorrow  
 would shrivel    
 and decay  
 stripping itself away.  
   
 4. You said you'd liked me  
 for a while  
 from reading my words.  
 I was recovering  
 from shock when  
 we walked the streets    
 at midnight  
 two hopeful souls  
 in a morass.    
 You said the political person  
 should crawl into  
 your bed  
 so out of courtesy  
 I did, as    
 I was told.  
   
 5. Why must  
 all the power of passion  
 be bundled up  
 by prescription  
 and possession  
 those words are not  
 ones which are  
 meant for us  
 our union is  
 free    
 and equal  
 our respect  
 is infinite  
 and political  
 our dance is  
 silly  
 and beautiful.  
   
 6.  I know property is theft  
 but you stole my heart  
 and I admire Our Red Emma  
  too much  
 to say  
 you own it  
 or I yours  
 for love is liberty  
 cannot be caged  
 forced, compelled  
 or kept  
 love must be all  
 in  
 else  
 it withers  
 and dies  
 like liberty itself  
 like the need of  
 the human spirit.  
 Without Liberty  
 Without Equality  
 Without Solidarity  
 love is a cruel joke  
 played as if    
 we are children  
 of a hollow race.  
   
   
 7. I never knew  
 how deep my  
 beliefs ran  
 until  
 like sun  
 melting snow  
 you exposed them  
 to the elements  
 tested the steel in the fire  
 and  
  they held.  
   
 8. Once I wrote  
 "Woman wanted  
 for revolution and romance  
 for ending class war,  
 who just wants to dance."  
 that sounds a lot like you  
  I love you  
  like I love the revolution  
 with white hot passion.  
   
 9. All the passion    
 I devote  
 to the political struggle  
 is equal to  
 my feelings    
 for you  
 and the sense of play  
 when I write  
 or climb    
 a tree  
 is only a difference  
 of degree  
 to the fun  
 of our    
 fleeting  
 encounters.  
   
 10. Revolutionaries    
 are motivated  
 by love  
 like Malatesta said  
 and my love  
 for you  
 is white hot passion  
 much as it is  
 for the revolution.  
 But the revolution  
 cannot give the embrace  
 of a lover  
 the warm touch  
 of close bodies  
 with love  
 filled hearts.  
 Our unity runs  
 counter to Power's divisions  
 -Gender roles,borders,states, Capitalism-  
 We spit in the face of the Patriarchy  
 which would make our joining  
 sickened poisoned ugly prison walls.  
 Instead  
 we rise like Phoenix's    
 You  
 with the untamed spirit  
 of a Mujeres Libres!  
   
 11. The only way  
 I conceive  
 of us  
 disturbing  
 the revolutionary process  
 the dialectical dance  
 of its destructive pole  
 with it's creative side  
 is when  
 during the insurrection  
 we pause  
 briefly  
 to touch lips  
 to whisper gently  
 to one another  
 to look each other  
 in the eye  
 knowing the time is now  
 and we must not fail.  
   
 12. I love you in all your  
 imperfections  
 it would be so    
 easy  
 to put you  
 on a pedestal  
 deify you  
 to the hilt  
 as romanticism dictates  
 but  
 it would be  
  neither honest    
 nor healthy  
  to do so.  
 You are as flawed  
 and as human as me  
 me with my  
 overthinking brain  
  but we recognise  
 we are human  
 beings  
 lucky to exist  
 at all  
 and so  
 we do our best  
 don't expect  
 perfection  
 call out tyranny  
 and live in hope  
 of    
 the closeness of bodies  
 and often rarer still  
 the closeness  
 of    
 minds.  
   
 13. I love the way    
 you hold my arms  
 fingers curling round  
 my triceps  
 and your smile  
 engulfing  the shadows  
 like    
 the break of day.  
 Like the chemistry  
 of a tree  
 takes in co2    
 and turns it  
 into bark  
 so I take in the tactile    
 tenderness of  
 your physicality  
 and turn it into  
 'the love hormone'  
 Oxycotin  
 I feel bonded with you  
 and humanity  
 Ubuntu  
 "I am because we all are"  
 we only got here  
 because of our togetherness  
 and nothing,  
 nothing  
  has changed  
 on that  
 front.  
   
   
 14. There is  
the struggle  
then there is  
You  
the struggle  
is primary  
but that  
is no slight  
on you  
because  
we are only  
links  
in that chain.  
I am no less  
taken with  
you  
 in saying  
that.  
Your words  
are sustenance  
to my  
mischievous spirit.  
Though the struggle  
is hard work  
and the vicissitudes  
of life  
add to it's task,  
you would easily  
make  
rebellion into  
a party.  
For revolt itself is life-affirming  
and  
We make war  
on power  
in the name  
of the pleasure of living.  
As Emma said  
"If I can't dance, it's not my revolution"  
and on the walls of Paris '68  
it was written  
"Boredom is counter-revolutionary"  
and so we  
must  
"Live without dead time"  
It is our challenge  
and I welcome the  
burden with open arms  
and a song  
from Spain.  
 
15. What blooms    
 between us  
 is the blossoming  
 of what drives us  
 forward  
 the constant pursuit  
 The Apollo and the Dionysus  
 Joy, Justice, Art  
 food,dancing and singing,  
 love and sex,  
 tenderness and toughness,  
 the softness of touch  
 the cruel pressing of inequality  
 the burdens of oppression.  
 my love for you  
 is equal  
 to my love  
 for my class  
 for humanity  
 and for the great cosmos  
 yet I single you out  
 from all the stars and smiles  
 in existence  
 because  
 you are my  
 Joie de vivre  
 my Jouissance  
 you are a raison d'etre  
 but not THE raison d'etre  
 (I speak blasphemy to love poetry  
 I, Iconoclast)  
 destroyer of false idols  
 we all become muses  
 writing the poetry  
 of our lives  
 and our world.