The sinking azure shadow, blinking fast its sleepy self into mist horizon -
Colour only, all 'round, though filling all, it seems, above -
Welcomes the yawning blink of streaming streak, life and light, suggesting...but...
Oh, wait, darkness, I cannot see!
Will I, better, do you think, with morning, and thee?
I tremble, this slight chill of earth in me, still, yearning,
And then.....
Dust settles, as it should,
Around this light, and past, towards the collected bits of self, amassed - yet only part;
Onwards - the flecks almost as sparkling fireflies, glinting in beam's tendrils,
Parachuting back to themselves,
Renewed in sleep
For when
Light calls
Again.
A leaping, then, somewhere, deep within the dusty breast;
Surge of Light, met, perhaps, or
That flash which moves behind the "trons" of light and dark,
and sees only
Beginning.
D. Nevills, April 25, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Of Dew, and Such Gentle Oddities..
What shall I say to you, in this grey light, as these light fingers draw back the comfort
To show me your face, musing?
Only dawn...
...and morning, with birds singing.
Will it matter, do you think, on this day, or any other, now that we have touched, so?
Touched, and not touched; spoken, and not spoken; shared tears, and wept alone;
Realized, and known, and thought;
Shared, and smiled, and, then silenced, realized a certain
Depth, carefully preserved:
Normally
Unshared, and undisturbed, though
Pulsing and Alive.
A certain terror, then, recognizing
Premature Burial of
Self, in this
Struggling against
Self.
What throat, then, through starlight, might make a comet burst, a dark ink sky tremble,
A moon glow sweet, in its place of purpose
In the great void of movement, that was me
And is no more?
And yet, unseen...
This, then, Belief, my darling.
Ah, sweet sight, helped.
The space is nothing, and everything, now there is You;
only tomorrow's Road to
Further,
Speaking. at last.
To show me your face, musing?
Only dawn...
...and morning, with birds singing.
Will it matter, do you think, on this day, or any other, now that we have touched, so?
Touched, and not touched; spoken, and not spoken; shared tears, and wept alone;
Realized, and known, and thought;
Shared, and smiled, and, then silenced, realized a certain
Depth, carefully preserved:
Normally
Unshared, and undisturbed, though
Pulsing and Alive.
A certain terror, then, recognizing
Premature Burial of
Self, in this
Struggling against
Self.
What throat, then, through starlight, might make a comet burst, a dark ink sky tremble,
A moon glow sweet, in its place of purpose
In the great void of movement, that was me
And is no more?
And yet, unseen...
This, then, Belief, my darling.
Ah, sweet sight, helped.
The space is nothing, and everything, now there is You;
only tomorrow's Road to
Further,
Speaking. at last.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Grow Glimpse Glow
So brief, this peep of spring, amidst the fierce of winter's snowflakes;
Clear, blinking, clearing stars amidst sky ink whirl above;
Hiding yawning earth, shedding - with a fling - this stretch of love; ah, sun!
Awake then, instant fierce shudders of life, wending along as shivers
Of my breath, suddenly
Shocking you
To life.
Clear, blinking, clearing stars amidst sky ink whirl above;
Hiding yawning earth, shedding - with a fling - this stretch of love; ah, sun!
Awake then, instant fierce shudders of life, wending along as shivers
Of my breath, suddenly
Shocking you
To life.
Monday, April 20, 2009
101
"So...." he grinned. "I learn fast. I can hardly wait to be an astronaut."
Her eyes narrowed, and she grinned back, over her glasses.
"Are you making fun of me, mister?" she said.
Her eyes narrowed, and she grinned back, over her glasses.
"Are you making fun of me, mister?" she said.
Allergy DEMI Glace.
"menumenumenu"....she purred. or coughed. It was a hairball moment, unplanned.
Someone had accidentally dropped a pretzel in the Black and White Coconut martini she had ordered. She had been just about to compliment him on how cleverly he had matched the soiree t-shirt underneath the rather daring choice of jackets.
.....ah, the romance of certain well planned pauses!
...and yet, this one was slightly.....awkward, somehow, what with the spittle flying about, and her tried but true lipshade suddenly clamping down on the edge of the glass, in mid sneeze, appearing more like a half moon bumprint, than any lip known to man. In fact, it happened so suddenly, and with such passion, that she actually bit off a large taco like bit from the glass edge, but, luckily, thought enough NOT to chew, which is really what saved her in the end......
What with the now-bleeding lip, and the slight smear of accoutrement paint now in a loving, but vital solid streak, mid cheek, wending its way across her face, it had metamorphosized into a kind of Zombie space moment, and he was slightly at a loss, as to how to respond, immediately, but sensitively, as was his wont.
He paused, gently, clearing his throat.
"Wow! They really kinda chintzed on the h'ordeuvres, babes, didn't they? Ah...you gonna be okay, or what?" He paused, thinking perhaps he hadn't been helpful enough, as he watched her carefully spitting out glass, which she had inadvertently almost consumed involuntarily.
"Waiter!" he shouted, thinking she would be impressed - rather than mortified, literally - at his sudden need to call all available help to their table.
"Bring towels and a first aid kit! She's bleeding!" Then, on a softer note....."It's okay; we're just really zealous.....food's great!"
He knew then, that the night could not possibly end badly. HE had taken steps.
Someone had accidentally dropped a pretzel in the Black and White Coconut martini she had ordered. She had been just about to compliment him on how cleverly he had matched the soiree t-shirt underneath the rather daring choice of jackets.
.....ah, the romance of certain well planned pauses!
...and yet, this one was slightly.....awkward, somehow, what with the spittle flying about, and her tried but true lipshade suddenly clamping down on the edge of the glass, in mid sneeze, appearing more like a half moon bumprint, than any lip known to man. In fact, it happened so suddenly, and with such passion, that she actually bit off a large taco like bit from the glass edge, but, luckily, thought enough NOT to chew, which is really what saved her in the end......
What with the now-bleeding lip, and the slight smear of accoutrement paint now in a loving, but vital solid streak, mid cheek, wending its way across her face, it had metamorphosized into a kind of Zombie space moment, and he was slightly at a loss, as to how to respond, immediately, but sensitively, as was his wont.
He paused, gently, clearing his throat.
"Wow! They really kinda chintzed on the h'ordeuvres, babes, didn't they? Ah...you gonna be okay, or what?" He paused, thinking perhaps he hadn't been helpful enough, as he watched her carefully spitting out glass, which she had inadvertently almost consumed involuntarily.
"Waiter!" he shouted, thinking she would be impressed - rather than mortified, literally - at his sudden need to call all available help to their table.
"Bring towels and a first aid kit! She's bleeding!" Then, on a softer note....."It's okay; we're just really zealous.....food's great!"
He knew then, that the night could not possibly end badly. HE had taken steps.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Nuts Over Glace.
"EWWWWWWW.!" she made a gagging face, as she chewed on the chewing gum. "It squirted! Gross!!! You bought me action gum...! Ach....." She made a gagging noise again.
"I should have eaten the chocolate cashews." She looked sad. He exhaled, laughing slightly.
"What? I thought you liked squirty gum!" He looked at her, cocking his head to one side. "Are you feeling better?"
"No. I feel like ...like....all the scum on the bottom of a body of water, that the bottom feeder fish won't eat, and cough up in their sleep." She glared at him.
"Wow...well.....THAT'S fairly clear." He cleared his throat, appreciatively. He had even had a nauseous second or two...That was real description, at its best.
"I have a choice between "action gum" and "semi comatose Percosindium" - which I reject fully, on both religious and moral grounds, so to speak - and which also makes me projectile vomit. How would YOU feel?" Her eyes squinted into slits. She was making blow whale noises with the squirty part of the gum. It was a very odd sound, and he wasn't sure he didn't like it, confusedly....
"Beside, I'm not sure if I have a latent nut allergy," she glowered. "My brother does, and I'm never too sure, anymore. My luck, I'd eat the damned chocolate, and my stomach would get surprised, all of a sudden - like a defensive force, as it discovered the nut part - and hoist it somewhere else, spontaneously, like on a fishing boat." It was a bad mental image, and one which caused him to cough, respectfully, in response.
She looked at him. His eyes had widened.
"Weeeeelll.......one time I ate what I THINK was a tainted nut batch at Christmas, and they sat in my gut like a bomb, threatening in either exiting direction for what seemed like...oh, Christ....days. It was just nasty. What kind of taunting decision is that supposed to present me with, mister...huh? Mr. Chocolate-nut-tormenter-guy...." She sighed, dejectedly.
He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.
"I am NOT trying to poison you with chocolate nuts, as punishment for non-performance, following the reoccurence of a back injury." He rasped the words into her hair, trying not to laugh, while catching his breath. He knew she was not feeling well.
"Promise?" She looked up at him. She was very uncomfortable, and just a little worried. There were little flecks of pain in her eyes...
The nuts were rumbling in there, after all; she had succumbed, and eaten a few, before the squirty-gaggy-action-gum-thingy had invaded her mouth - which, until that point, had remained comfortably coated in both wine and chocolate. Now it was a windswept Arctic tundra of Vanilla Mint, and was NOT mixing well with the cashews. She stuck out her tongue, making a gagging noise. At least the obscene squirt-vanilla-action had stopped. No wonder people rebelled against jaw damage.How depressing; it had been like having mini Easter eggs, again, for just a brief moment of complete, wild abandon....
"It had better be worth the fresh new non-tempting clinic kiss", she glowered. "Or I'll be summarily pissed." He blew through his nose, into her ear, swallowing, so he would not laugh.
"And keep that hand where I can see it, mister." He laughed out loud, then, and softly massaged around the base of her spine. She winced, genuinely. He couldn't help it; he moved his mouth beside her ear, and began humming....
"Wee ooo wee ooo ooo wee ooo wee ooo oooh wee o bum ba yay....the lion sleeps tonight" he rumbled, teasing her. She punched him gently in the arm.
"You are HORRIBLE," she said, sadly. He kissed her in the neck, rubbing her back gently.
"Ah, feel better my pie girl", he said, softly, relenting. "I'm sorry you hurt yourself. It'll be spring soon."
"I should have eaten the chocolate cashews." She looked sad. He exhaled, laughing slightly.
"What? I thought you liked squirty gum!" He looked at her, cocking his head to one side. "Are you feeling better?"
"No. I feel like ...like....all the scum on the bottom of a body of water, that the bottom feeder fish won't eat, and cough up in their sleep." She glared at him.
"Wow...well.....THAT'S fairly clear." He cleared his throat, appreciatively. He had even had a nauseous second or two...That was real description, at its best.
"I have a choice between "action gum" and "semi comatose Percosindium" - which I reject fully, on both religious and moral grounds, so to speak - and which also makes me projectile vomit. How would YOU feel?" Her eyes squinted into slits. She was making blow whale noises with the squirty part of the gum. It was a very odd sound, and he wasn't sure he didn't like it, confusedly....
"Beside, I'm not sure if I have a latent nut allergy," she glowered. "My brother does, and I'm never too sure, anymore. My luck, I'd eat the damned chocolate, and my stomach would get surprised, all of a sudden - like a defensive force, as it discovered the nut part - and hoist it somewhere else, spontaneously, like on a fishing boat." It was a bad mental image, and one which caused him to cough, respectfully, in response.
She looked at him. His eyes had widened.
"Weeeeelll.......one time I ate what I THINK was a tainted nut batch at Christmas, and they sat in my gut like a bomb, threatening in either exiting direction for what seemed like...oh, Christ....days. It was just nasty. What kind of taunting decision is that supposed to present me with, mister...huh? Mr. Chocolate-nut-tormenter-guy...." She sighed, dejectedly.
He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.
"I am NOT trying to poison you with chocolate nuts, as punishment for non-performance, following the reoccurence of a back injury." He rasped the words into her hair, trying not to laugh, while catching his breath. He knew she was not feeling well.
"Promise?" She looked up at him. She was very uncomfortable, and just a little worried. There were little flecks of pain in her eyes...
The nuts were rumbling in there, after all; she had succumbed, and eaten a few, before the squirty-gaggy-action-gum-thingy had invaded her mouth - which, until that point, had remained comfortably coated in both wine and chocolate. Now it was a windswept Arctic tundra of Vanilla Mint, and was NOT mixing well with the cashews. She stuck out her tongue, making a gagging noise. At least the obscene squirt-vanilla-action had stopped. No wonder people rebelled against jaw damage.How depressing; it had been like having mini Easter eggs, again, for just a brief moment of complete, wild abandon....
"It had better be worth the fresh new non-tempting clinic kiss", she glowered. "Or I'll be summarily pissed." He blew through his nose, into her ear, swallowing, so he would not laugh.
"And keep that hand where I can see it, mister." He laughed out loud, then, and softly massaged around the base of her spine. She winced, genuinely. He couldn't help it; he moved his mouth beside her ear, and began humming....
"Wee ooo wee ooo ooo wee ooo wee ooo oooh wee o bum ba yay....the lion sleeps tonight" he rumbled, teasing her. She punched him gently in the arm.
"You are HORRIBLE," she said, sadly. He kissed her in the neck, rubbing her back gently.
"Ah, feel better my pie girl", he said, softly, relenting. "I'm sorry you hurt yourself. It'll be spring soon."
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sunshine ShoeShine
Hey, shoe shine girl...
Warm butterscotch is all 'bout your baby rays
Glowing bright, sunshine face me in hugs....
Built in with UV, 'taint nuthin' finer,
Diner,
Than us'n, glowin, baby;
Wrinklin' your nose, in case I sneeze
At the heat.
You bein' my Mac,
Sweet thing, well, this time I declare (makin' you laugh, while doin')
Feel's like when I was a kid, lovin'
Candy all over...
Sweet!
...and me, all lace....
Warm butterscotch is all 'bout your baby rays
Glowing bright, sunshine face me in hugs....
Built in with UV, 'taint nuthin' finer,
Diner,
Than us'n, glowin, baby;
Wrinklin' your nose, in case I sneeze
At the heat.
You bein' my Mac,
Sweet thing, well, this time I declare (makin' you laugh, while doin')
Feel's like when I was a kid, lovin'
Candy all over...
Sweet!
...and me, all lace....
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Apologia Glimmers
"...You have little lines here," he said softly, stroking beside her eye, where it was just a little moist. He kissed the shadow puddle. She raised her right hand slowly, smoothing out an imaginary frown on the side of his cheek, with a small sigh. Such a serious face. Such a caring face. Such a dear face....she simply left her hand there, laying gently against his cheek, so he could feel the strangled pulse there.
"...all those thoughts, trapped in this tiny map.." he said, quietly.
"I have painted places where I felt you," she finally said, softly...."painted, in different ways."
"I know", he said, softly, too. "I think I went somewhere like those places, for a while, sometimes."
"There was nowhere else," she said, simply.
"Say you're not angry. I came back again, didn't I? I had to go somewhere...and still be here, for everything." She hung her head, suddenly. "So weak.....I was... so weak." She closed her eyes, and sighed. "I couldn't let you slip away, even though I was almost gone, you know. It was the oddest thing, helping you. I just couldn't allow it to happen....I..."
"Shhh", he said, softly. "It's okay. I understand. It's...very odd....but..." he smiled...."you're a little eccentric, aren't you? It happens when you have to handle enormous pressure, I know."
"Plus", she said, opening her eyes and looking at him, "It helped when I had to direct the fire trucks, during orange alerts. I used to play this crazy Bjork song, from the Selma soundtrack, with all these whirring machines....before I went out on patrol, in the snow, in my parka, with the radio, walking along the railroad tracks, at three in the morning." He looked at her, quizzically. She sighed.
"Never mind", she said. "It's very complicated. One time one of our team members had to go out near the chemical bed to find half a nose." He looked at her, his eyes wide.
"Wha....?"...she kissed beside his lip, quickly.
"Only half", she said, flatly. "There was an accident. Aside from all the blood, he was still holding the rest on. A nasty day. They found it, though...half a nose, lying there..." She breathed.
"They sewed it back on, though, so it made up for all the other yeses." She looked up at him, smiling wickedly."The bastards." Air escaped him, in an almost laugh.
"One day I'll see that free coffee face again, though, sweet." Her mouth closed in a line, suddenly, pained.
"And you'll call me, so I can ..." he paused, looked at her, as he said it, in reply, and stroked the side of her face with both hands.
"I can't believe I told you," she said, looking into his face."You're the only one. I couldn't talk for weeks." She looked up at him again. "I just cleaned myself up, went to work, washed him down in the chair every afternoon, when I came home from my shift, and didn't speak. Every day I hoped he would come through the gate, so I could kill him.......... I never saw him again. I knew exactly what had happened....."
He rubbed her shoulders, softly, trying to control his own rage. She looked at him again, through a glimmer across her eyes. Just a little brighter than normal, otherwise he would not have thought there were tears there.
"I took a book of free coupon coupons into the police station, for Christmas. I think I was still in shock. I ..."her voice trailed off..."I didn't have time to have a nervous breakdown." Her mouth shut suddenly. She was not smiling.
"I think they thought I was a hooker, or something. I was trying to be nice, you know; not be angry, but be supportive, in this strange, removed way..."she stopped speaking, and took a breath. She started speaking again.
"I....there is this coffee connection"...her voice broke..."it's very complicated....my, my....inlaws....and I was trying to care, again....he was sitting there, with an I.V. bag in him, and I was working 15 hour shifts, and going home....and...Christ, Charlie. I wished I was dead. I thought they would try to kill me again."
He kissed beside her eye, tucking a piece of hair beside her ear.
"I will always remember his face", she said, quietly, at last, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper.
"Always. I wanted to tack it on to a tree, for the druids to absorb, and make clean again. Is that violent and evil of me, do you think? Will I burn?"
He looked at her, quietly.
"I couldn't forgive myself, Charlie." She looked into his face. "And I knew no one else would, except you."
"Only with me, in my bed. And I promise it won't hurt a bit." Her lips were an odd mix of the firmest caramel, and the softest petal, and he made certain he got a real taste, at last.
"We'll be there a while, I think", he said, softly, kissing her nose, before covering her mouth again. God, it was nice to kiss a woman who kissed you back, without apology. Finally.
"...all those thoughts, trapped in this tiny map.." he said, quietly.
"I have painted places where I felt you," she finally said, softly...."painted, in different ways."
"I know", he said, softly, too. "I think I went somewhere like those places, for a while, sometimes."
"There was nowhere else," she said, simply.
"Say you're not angry. I came back again, didn't I? I had to go somewhere...and still be here, for everything." She hung her head, suddenly. "So weak.....I was... so weak." She closed her eyes, and sighed. "I couldn't let you slip away, even though I was almost gone, you know. It was the oddest thing, helping you. I just couldn't allow it to happen....I..."
"Shhh", he said, softly. "It's okay. I understand. It's...very odd....but..." he smiled...."you're a little eccentric, aren't you? It happens when you have to handle enormous pressure, I know."
"Plus", she said, opening her eyes and looking at him, "It helped when I had to direct the fire trucks, during orange alerts. I used to play this crazy Bjork song, from the Selma soundtrack, with all these whirring machines....before I went out on patrol, in the snow, in my parka, with the radio, walking along the railroad tracks, at three in the morning." He looked at her, quizzically. She sighed.
"Never mind", she said. "It's very complicated. One time one of our team members had to go out near the chemical bed to find half a nose." He looked at her, his eyes wide.
"Wha....?"...she kissed beside his lip, quickly.
"Only half", she said, flatly. "There was an accident. Aside from all the blood, he was still holding the rest on. A nasty day. They found it, though...half a nose, lying there..." She breathed.
"They sewed it back on, though, so it made up for all the other yeses." She looked up at him, smiling wickedly."The bastards." Air escaped him, in an almost laugh.
"One day I'll see that free coffee face again, though, sweet." Her mouth closed in a line, suddenly, pained.
"And you'll call me, so I can ..." he paused, looked at her, as he said it, in reply, and stroked the side of her face with both hands.
"I can't believe I told you," she said, looking into his face."You're the only one. I couldn't talk for weeks." She looked up at him again. "I just cleaned myself up, went to work, washed him down in the chair every afternoon, when I came home from my shift, and didn't speak. Every day I hoped he would come through the gate, so I could kill him.......... I never saw him again. I knew exactly what had happened....."
He rubbed her shoulders, softly, trying to control his own rage. She looked at him again, through a glimmer across her eyes. Just a little brighter than normal, otherwise he would not have thought there were tears there.
"I took a book of free coupon coupons into the police station, for Christmas. I think I was still in shock. I ..."her voice trailed off..."I didn't have time to have a nervous breakdown." Her mouth shut suddenly. She was not smiling.
"I think they thought I was a hooker, or something. I was trying to be nice, you know; not be angry, but be supportive, in this strange, removed way..."she stopped speaking, and took a breath. She started speaking again.
"I....there is this coffee connection"...her voice broke..."it's very complicated....my, my....inlaws....and I was trying to care, again....he was sitting there, with an I.V. bag in him, and I was working 15 hour shifts, and going home....and...Christ, Charlie. I wished I was dead. I thought they would try to kill me again."
He kissed beside her eye, tucking a piece of hair beside her ear.
"I will always remember his face", she said, quietly, at last, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper.
"Always. I wanted to tack it on to a tree, for the druids to absorb, and make clean again. Is that violent and evil of me, do you think? Will I burn?"
He looked at her, quietly.
"I couldn't forgive myself, Charlie." She looked into his face. "And I knew no one else would, except you."
"Only with me, in my bed. And I promise it won't hurt a bit." Her lips were an odd mix of the firmest caramel, and the softest petal, and he made certain he got a real taste, at last.
"We'll be there a while, I think", he said, softly, kissing her nose, before covering her mouth again. God, it was nice to kiss a woman who kissed you back, without apology. Finally.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
711. 99'd.
C U?
B U.. ?
R U IC 2??4 ...a Re Sun?9?
Y?
BU ...MY Pie squared?
WE??? Pith a gorummed? ou juste la langue d'amour"..
Heavy sigh.
Tu dit, "oui".
Mais, non! May...Watt!
Je t'adore.
I am 1..but you know this, opening me.
B U.. ?
R U IC 2??4 ...a Re Sun?9?
Y?
BU ...MY Pie squared?
WE??? Pith a gorummed? ou juste la langue d'amour"..
Heavy sigh.
Tu dit, "oui".
Mais, non! May...Watt!
Je t'adore.
I am 1..but you know this, opening me.
Heated Rock of Cornerstone Being
Languid, this love; slow and curling, like water 'round rock,
Ebbing and flowing, 'til less, and more of themselves, and each other.
What trail, then? Is this a rock, trailing oblong soft, amidst pungent smell of heated flower skin? - yet not cold, impenetrable, marker of Time passed;
Surely, not death - though it says it recalls itself , from somewhere within, shrugging in
Surprise, at rock innard wall, and fear of Fire:
Beyond and amidst abyss of memories of when it was Being, this cold hand, awakening.
Surely, not self-seeking - seeing only eyes that spark and speak, amidst the ice of "ago"...
In spite of itself, turning towards grey ago, and comfortable speakingless, frozen sameness of
Recalled Was, and Forgotten Could - but....then...Here!
Here is Incessant Shooting Fire of Sudden,
Burning, without Death, and shivering, without Fear, Shaking with Now, Lit. Ah, the Awake!
....and sudden seeking...Ah! Where, the hill? Where the dale? What the moment? Where the frail?
Strength to strength, and striving met, a well and want, moving in the net -
No act, This;
Yet moving, Presence to be present, being, Again;
Shielded, thus, by its Self Other
Mirror, which, flexing
Sparks, is just
Visible Enough
to Lead on into Tomorrow,
Sighing
"Go!" Here! Oh....Now!
Ebbing and flowing, 'til less, and more of themselves, and each other.
What trail, then? Is this a rock, trailing oblong soft, amidst pungent smell of heated flower skin? - yet not cold, impenetrable, marker of Time passed;
Surely, not death - though it says it recalls itself , from somewhere within, shrugging in
Surprise, at rock innard wall, and fear of Fire:
Beyond and amidst abyss of memories of when it was Being, this cold hand, awakening.
Surely, not self-seeking - seeing only eyes that spark and speak, amidst the ice of "ago"...
In spite of itself, turning towards grey ago, and comfortable speakingless, frozen sameness of
Recalled Was, and Forgotten Could - but....then...Here!
Here is Incessant Shooting Fire of Sudden,
Burning, without Death, and shivering, without Fear, Shaking with Now, Lit. Ah, the Awake!
....and sudden seeking...Ah! Where, the hill? Where the dale? What the moment? Where the frail?
Strength to strength, and striving met, a well and want, moving in the net -
No act, This;
Yet moving, Presence to be present, being, Again;
Shielded, thus, by its Self Other
Mirror, which, flexing
Sparks, is just
Visible Enough
to Lead on into Tomorrow,
Sighing
"Go!" Here! Oh....Now!
Friday, April 3, 2009
..."Hmmm" she said, responding while sipping Shazamm....
"Since I must now focus my considerable energies on becoming a legally required whore", she said, gently, twirling the pen held delicately in her grasp, having laid aside the hated gun, "I will kindly advise you of what my gentle response will entail, my darling...."
He stepped back, warily, having puffed his importance in her direction, feeling both emasculated and angry with himself, before this latest international temper tantrum.
"Firstly, this: since you have obviously confused God with politics, and love with your own inability to control yourself, and, instead, vent it on me, I will require daily transportation, at this particular time, to my place of worship, and back home, that I might cleanse myself in the sight of God, having been vilified and mistreated in the name of politics, and power - not love, nor concern of any kind."
He shifted, awkwardly.
"The religious leader has agreed that not doing so means you are clearly lazy, and concerned with other priorities, so if I do not attend, as I have stated, you will be required to pay a sum of my choosing - like the whore that I have been forced to become - at your whim, as a result of your uncontrolled rage."
He looked at her, saying nothing, aware that she was deeply angered, finally, at this show of such deep disregard for her sex, and the sacredness of what he had said he held in very high esteem: their respect for each other - which did not involve the violence they both had sworn not to show as an example to their children, to each other - especially not in the bedroom.
"Secondly, since I am required by law to make this my duty, I am NOT required to do any of the other things that you receive for free: cooking, cleaning, laundry, medical care, speaking, listening to your problems, preparing your schedule, answering your phone calls, decoratingyour home with my artistic ability, creating things of beauty, to make your world a more beautiful, and possible, place of joy; translating things you do not understand - since I am the only one with time to read, although I had to figure most of it out myself, due to not having access to education; giving you my opinion about anything; working at anything that shows you I respect your ability to support us, financially, by lessening this burden, and helping you, because I know you to be a man not ruled by ego, or the drug trade which is destroying the world - not just your hated enemies, this week, and their offspring - and because I do care if you do drop dead of a heart attack too soon, because of overwork.
I must, needs be, seek instruction on this new duty; therefore, I will require that you bring in professionals in this trade, that I might learn these skills from them, by classroom environments which will ensure your great happiness, and my desired subservience; additionally, I will, as mentioned above, no longer be able to spend any time doing the aforementioned things; thus the fee involved for professional instruction, and the new help you will need to hire, might add some pressure, and cause you to be away, at work, in order to pay for it. You will have to also call in take out, since no one will be available any longer to pack your several lunches, bathe your many new children - or school them, since they, too, can't go outside, for fear of being attacked with acid by a human animal masquerading as a human being, rather than a gentle adult pleased with childhood innocence and God given beauty, - and since you're the only one allowed to take anyone anywhere. I imagine your new duty as increasingly busy driver will add length, again, to your working day, as well as additional expense, for which I feel for you, deeply, but, again, you are directly responsible, sadly, in terms of logic, work sharing, and the need for power and control.
Since I think we will probably not be able to afford professional assistance of this kind, at the very least, I will have to carefully study the satellite t.v., mostly all day, in my pyjamas, in order to become a good, obedient whore, although it makes me sad to think about how dirty our house is going to get, frankly. Hopefully, you won't invite anyone over for dinner, as there will be no one to cook it, since I will be far too busy, dear."
He cleared his throat, which suddenly felt very restricted.
"Or", she said, "I could just take all of the credit cards, and go on holiday for three months, until you come to your senses, darling. Either way, this new law might prove very, very expensive...."
she sighed. "Plus, I will miss out on my charity work,which is something that causes me great distress." He hung his head.
"I must admit, since I know you to be such a wise and good man - which is why, of course, I married you, knowing you loved me, - that I thought you liked the fact that I was clever, much more than having to wait, occasionally, for something...." she mused to herself, quietly.
"Such a patient man". She smiled up at him. "It made my not being allowed, or able, to become a doctor, so irrelevant - although the rest of the world might miss my absence, in this capacity, since we seem to, as a species, need so very much healing, lately. Perhaps it's just a spelling error on your part then, my darling? Healing, I mean?"
She stared straight at him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. He suddenly realized that she was very, very angry.
"One more thing, my darling." She purred the words. "Since creativity in exchange might be required, in terms of method, in the midst of our expressed need, which you feel you must seek in a court of law, instead of having the guts to ask me to my face - I cannot be assured of the ferocity of my appetite." His eyes widened in shock. "The damage might very well be permanent, within the contex of consumption, and how tired you will aways be, with this new, forced focus of my inner strength and drawn upon energy, rechanneled, however wasted."
His eyes widened at the cannabalistic reference drawn from a far less advanced time in their tribal history.
Recognizing, at last, again, why he respected her so deeply, since she stood, quietly, toe to toe with him, waiting, unblinkingly, for him to raise his hand to her, without flinching, and ready to raise her own, to block it - and connect, in turn, if necessary, to deflect it - he bowed deeply, grasped her right hand in both of his, kissed it, whirled out of the room, and entered the room of screaming, ridiculous male politicians with renewed sanity of purpose, thinking his wife was the most beautiful creature in the world. His twelve hour work day, lunch bag in hand, was a mere blink. He smiled at how she had winked at him, slyly, before patting him on the bottom as he had walked out of the door. He could hardly wait to get home.
He stepped back, warily, having puffed his importance in her direction, feeling both emasculated and angry with himself, before this latest international temper tantrum.
"Firstly, this: since you have obviously confused God with politics, and love with your own inability to control yourself, and, instead, vent it on me, I will require daily transportation, at this particular time, to my place of worship, and back home, that I might cleanse myself in the sight of God, having been vilified and mistreated in the name of politics, and power - not love, nor concern of any kind."
He shifted, awkwardly.
"The religious leader has agreed that not doing so means you are clearly lazy, and concerned with other priorities, so if I do not attend, as I have stated, you will be required to pay a sum of my choosing - like the whore that I have been forced to become - at your whim, as a result of your uncontrolled rage."
He looked at her, saying nothing, aware that she was deeply angered, finally, at this show of such deep disregard for her sex, and the sacredness of what he had said he held in very high esteem: their respect for each other - which did not involve the violence they both had sworn not to show as an example to their children, to each other - especially not in the bedroom.
"Secondly, since I am required by law to make this my duty, I am NOT required to do any of the other things that you receive for free: cooking, cleaning, laundry, medical care, speaking, listening to your problems, preparing your schedule, answering your phone calls, decoratingyour home with my artistic ability, creating things of beauty, to make your world a more beautiful, and possible, place of joy; translating things you do not understand - since I am the only one with time to read, although I had to figure most of it out myself, due to not having access to education; giving you my opinion about anything; working at anything that shows you I respect your ability to support us, financially, by lessening this burden, and helping you, because I know you to be a man not ruled by ego, or the drug trade which is destroying the world - not just your hated enemies, this week, and their offspring - and because I do care if you do drop dead of a heart attack too soon, because of overwork.
I must, needs be, seek instruction on this new duty; therefore, I will require that you bring in professionals in this trade, that I might learn these skills from them, by classroom environments which will ensure your great happiness, and my desired subservience; additionally, I will, as mentioned above, no longer be able to spend any time doing the aforementioned things; thus the fee involved for professional instruction, and the new help you will need to hire, might add some pressure, and cause you to be away, at work, in order to pay for it. You will have to also call in take out, since no one will be available any longer to pack your several lunches, bathe your many new children - or school them, since they, too, can't go outside, for fear of being attacked with acid by a human animal masquerading as a human being, rather than a gentle adult pleased with childhood innocence and God given beauty, - and since you're the only one allowed to take anyone anywhere. I imagine your new duty as increasingly busy driver will add length, again, to your working day, as well as additional expense, for which I feel for you, deeply, but, again, you are directly responsible, sadly, in terms of logic, work sharing, and the need for power and control.
Since I think we will probably not be able to afford professional assistance of this kind, at the very least, I will have to carefully study the satellite t.v., mostly all day, in my pyjamas, in order to become a good, obedient whore, although it makes me sad to think about how dirty our house is going to get, frankly. Hopefully, you won't invite anyone over for dinner, as there will be no one to cook it, since I will be far too busy, dear."
He cleared his throat, which suddenly felt very restricted.
"Or", she said, "I could just take all of the credit cards, and go on holiday for three months, until you come to your senses, darling. Either way, this new law might prove very, very expensive...."
she sighed. "Plus, I will miss out on my charity work,which is something that causes me great distress." He hung his head.
"I must admit, since I know you to be such a wise and good man - which is why, of course, I married you, knowing you loved me, - that I thought you liked the fact that I was clever, much more than having to wait, occasionally, for something...." she mused to herself, quietly.
"Such a patient man". She smiled up at him. "It made my not being allowed, or able, to become a doctor, so irrelevant - although the rest of the world might miss my absence, in this capacity, since we seem to, as a species, need so very much healing, lately. Perhaps it's just a spelling error on your part then, my darling? Healing, I mean?"
She stared straight at him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. He suddenly realized that she was very, very angry.
"One more thing, my darling." She purred the words. "Since creativity in exchange might be required, in terms of method, in the midst of our expressed need, which you feel you must seek in a court of law, instead of having the guts to ask me to my face - I cannot be assured of the ferocity of my appetite." His eyes widened in shock. "The damage might very well be permanent, within the contex of consumption, and how tired you will aways be, with this new, forced focus of my inner strength and drawn upon energy, rechanneled, however wasted."
His eyes widened at the cannabalistic reference drawn from a far less advanced time in their tribal history.
Recognizing, at last, again, why he respected her so deeply, since she stood, quietly, toe to toe with him, waiting, unblinkingly, for him to raise his hand to her, without flinching, and ready to raise her own, to block it - and connect, in turn, if necessary, to deflect it - he bowed deeply, grasped her right hand in both of his, kissed it, whirled out of the room, and entered the room of screaming, ridiculous male politicians with renewed sanity of purpose, thinking his wife was the most beautiful creature in the world. His twelve hour work day, lunch bag in hand, was a mere blink. He smiled at how she had winked at him, slyly, before patting him on the bottom as he had walked out of the door. He could hardly wait to get home.
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