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by Andrei Ridgeway

Intuitive Living: 7 Steps to Developing Your Intuitive Self

Psychic Living
More Info & Purchase

with Andrei Ridgeway

The Intuitive Path to Love

Inside a Psychic's Mind


From Longing to Belonging
Arthur Jeon

What is Real Love?
Bruce Brander

Love Fitness: Creating Love and Intimacy
Harold Bloomfield

Loving Without Fear Rhonda Britten

A Roadmap to Intimacy
Dr. Lynn Ianni

Love Types
Daphne Rose Kingma

Simply Loving
Janet Luhrs

The Challenges &
Beauty of Romantic
Nathaniel Branden, Ph.D.

Yearners & Protectors:
Which One Are You?
Donna Goodman

Mending Your Broken
Sarah La Saulle &
Sharon Kagan



What Love Is

Yearners & Protectors

Ways We Push From Our Lives

Expanding Our Capacity to Love

Sheri's Recommended
Books About

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From the Heart Media Television Shows and videos developed by media psychotherapist, interviewer and talk show host, Sheri Meyers Gantman, to facilitate personal growth and improve your health and relationships. Straight from the Heart TV
Sheri Meyers Gantman - Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist

These are some of my favorite Andrei Ridgeway LOVE poems.

A DAY OF HEART...Instructions

Put down the paper
your cup of coffee
your glasses
and your pen
the crossword puzzle can wait
the phone calls
the faxes
the letters
put it all down
feel the organ in your chest
pumping the miracle of
your life
whether you need to buy roses
or prepare yourself
to receive them
whether you are in love
or alone
remember that you have been created
in the likeness of God
take off your slippers
and underwear
stop worrying about the bills
walk to the bathroom
and look at the mirror
this is the companion
who has never left you
this is the face
you show up in
day after day
send a blessing
to this ragged reflection
give a kiss
to the hunger
in your eyes
you already have it all
you have already arrived
you have already
come home
then turn around
and go back to what you were doing
with your most trusted companion
at your side
you know who it is
no one needs to remind you
ever again

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2004



She is always close to me these days,
an extension of my body
and the kinder side
of my brain.
I nourish myself
in her steady description of life,
in the way she bounces down the hallway
and takes a sip from my Heineken
as if it is her beer, too.
Loving and loving and loving
until our flesh passes
through the keyhole of heaven
and then I want to kiss her more
with everything I have become
and lived through and touched.
She is proof that I have been kind,
proof that I have lived my song
into the regions of sacrifice and dignity,
for how else would she have come to me,
how else?
When she bathes
I open the flowered curtain
and glance at God's finest work:
woman, woman, woman.
Then I go sit on the balcony
and count my blessings
until the trees open
like doors.

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2004



When you first meet her
you use all the clichés
in your approach.
You say to her
that you have never met someone
as beautiful as she,
that her face is like a flower,
that her smile makes your heart sing.
Then a brief period of originality follows.
As the honeymoon wanes
and you get to know her for who she is,
you might compare her to
a firecracker in the ass of a donkey,
or a rocket ship fueled
by bones and marmalade.
But, rest assured,
the beginning will return,
and you will fall in love all over again,
and sitting on the bed beside her,
after she has taken off her make-up
and is clipping her toe-nails,
you will say once again
that her face shines like the moon,
that she is the most beautiful woman in the world,
that her feet are porcelain angels,
and the streak of original thought
that possessed you in the middle
will fade into a comforting cliché
that will follow your relationship
like a scented breeze
for the rest of your life.

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2004



Stay with me until I fall asleep.
Those were her last words of the day.
I waited,
watching her eyelids close
like petals,
watching her lips
slide over her teeth.
I put my hand on her chest,
letting the spasm of love
that was consuming me
pour through her ribs
into her heart.
Minutes passed.
She rolled onto her back,
her hair falling across her shoulders
in perfect measurements of gold.
The sound of her breathing
made the room widen and soften
and the light of the lamp
touched her breasts
in a way I never could.
She was gone.
The miracle of speech and movement
withdrawn like a promise,
and remaining,
something so exquisite and rare,
I might have gone blind
were I to stay watching
a minute longer.

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2004



When she comes close
and the closeness breaks her open
When her lips are not arguing
with mine
When her eyes are tunnels
leading into the Great Mystery
I know I have found
the only real thing
that can be found
The stars descend
their ladders of darkness
The crickets stroll
through the gallery of song
I take a strand of hair
that has fallen across her face
and say a line
that has never been spoken
It is not a miracle
unless love is at the center
It is not love
unless the boundaries
are gone

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2004



I still want her
after all these years.
Her body is an open door.
Her eyes hold the prayers
of a country in war.
I take off my hat,
place my cane by the window,
and approach her.
We are old, very old.
I have a face of dead flowers.
Her hands are made of delicate wood.
The first thing I do is make her laugh.
The years have taught me how to do this.
I say something silly,
something from the repertoire
of our life together,
and she turns into the girl
I fell in love with.
Her eyes regain their sparkle.
Then she returns the innocence to me,
a quality she has preserved despite the horror,
like a small box kept safely
in the attic of her dreams.
"You are handsome as ever," she whispers,
touching my lips with her finger.
"You are the only man I have ever loved."
I lead her to the bed,
the bed that is weeping
and burning with light.
I lie her down
and remove her clothes.
"And you are beautiful," I say.
"As beautiful as life can ever be..."

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2004


O Lord
you have given me a heart
a heart that feels
and bleeds
a heart that splits open
at the sight of a bird
my lady's eyes
or a swaying tree
I have tried to give this heart
back to you
wanting a new heart
one made of steel
that holds out pain
and is locked
like a safe
But you will not exchange my heart
for another
and on this premise
you have given me a name
a body
and a path
with only one way back to you...

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2005


Nothing moves me like a fashion show,
especially when it is my woman who is
holding center stage.
She came home from a day of shopping,
laying her new outfits on the bed
and modeling them for me with a delicate shyness.
I felt like Al Pacino, darkly observing
her curves as she went from pink
to blue, to green, to a pair of cream
colored pants that made my Adam's apple
retreat to the back of my head.
A woman's body is the most artful creation
God has ever accomplished.
He must have spent many light years
conjuring the perfect shape of a female breast.
I can see him at his desk, frustrated,
finally abandoning his geometry set,
out of the blue making a soft oval in the air
with his hands,
which the angels then filled with milk
and perfume.
I think about God a lot when my lover is changing.
I thank him for the thighs he gave her,
and hips that make a lane of moguls
zoom down my spine.
My favorite outfit she bought
was an emerald green skirt that spoke of
elegance, and something sophisticated
that you find only in Kathryn Hepburn's eyes.
I think every woman should have a man
observe and praise her as she tries on new clothes.
The only thing missing from the ceremony
was a fat cigar and a glass of brandy.
If I had these articles within reach,
I could have articulated the subtle dimensions
of her clothing and the body beneath them
with even more precision and lust.
But alas, it was Sunday, and even without these
manly accessories I found myself happy,
thoroughly drenched
in the mystery of mysteries:

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2005



I want her
Every part of her
The tips of her fingers
The sunlight in her hair
The curve of her belly
Her heart races like a comet
to the center of my longing
My ears follow the flow
of her breath
She is inside me
the way a seed is in the earth
I cannot live without her
There is only one way to travel
Closer to her soul
Closer to her heart

©Copyright Andrei Ridgeway 2005



Andrei Ridgeway is an intuitive counselor, poet and author living in Los Angeles, California. His approach to psychic phenomena is unique in it's down-to-earth style. His first book, "Psychic Living" has been published around the world and his second book, "Intuitive Living: 7 Steps to Developing Your Intuitive Self" is available from Citadel Press.

I feel blessed to have had Andrei as my featured guest on two shows: "The Intuitive Path to Love", "Inside A Psychic's Mind" Click here to find out more about these shows.

His straight forward and sensitive approach to the mystical arts is a much needed perspective in a time where the subject is often overcomplicated and abstract. His practical methods are easy to follow and understand. Andrei is a healer, artist, musician and poet and journalist and has interviewed such notable characters as Allen Ginsberg and Leonard Cohen.

He can be reached for consultation at tallpoet@aol.com or call 310/280-3554.



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