“Are we here? Are we elsewhere? Are we in some fictional space dreamed by men? Might the tears and the pain only be ingredients for a more palatable journey that goes nowhere, before it sinks into the oblivion of sleep?”
-Francois Cheng, The River Below.
These feel like lies, accepted, and denied
the scrutiny you hold. Don’t deny me…
I am silent because of you–those moments
when you drew me into sleep; when you fucked me.
Now, let’s go: I’m the tears and pain you sought for;
I’m the quiet kind of one, you bastard.
You’ll sink; sorry for being so coarse.
It’s all an act, right?
Then I’ll show you no remorse.
“A woman’s ammunition is chiefly psychic and aesthetic: love & lookings.”
Oh, my love, let
me talk about love.
Let me inscribe love
on you, love. Let
me love you purely:
I can love with
the purity you love.
Could you love me?
Let’s see, now, love…
Let me go, love.
So, I nominate:
Posted in blogging, poetry
Tagged 2015, blogging, challenge, community, LOVE, love in ten lines, poem, poetry, wordpress, writing, writing challenge
Feeling fluid, the way the sky looks while
I’m floating on my back;
The blood-moon on my left while the ships pass;
a negligee, on a warm, windy night.
Eating a rich dessert after swimming:
strawberry shortcake, with whipped creme.
How your attention calms me like Lapsang
Souchong tea, makes me pine and swim for you.
Forcing myself to smile when I’m alone…
Counting my breaths when I am not.
Knowing that I am not alone, Father.
“I assure you, most solemnly, I tell you unless a wo/man is born of water and the spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.”
“That we who refrain from sin by self-denial,
may be afflicted in time
rather than condemned to eternal punishment…”
-Litany of Interior Peace
“Forward pressure refers to the inclination to close the gap, to press forward until contact has been established. In both contexts, forward pressure requires an acute awareness of one’s own center and of the opponent’s…It is forward pressure that forces something to happen.”
-James Cravens, Principles of Chinese Boxing
I open this with a heavy heart for a person I never “met.” Oh, Leonard Nimoy, you’ve taught millions about compartmentalizing:
Aren’t thoughts symbiotes?
We think, and they grow.
We think, and cannot know
How or where they will go.
We think in composites
We would love to know.
Now, here is a thought
Made up, without giving a thought:
Some things are disheveled,
Some things are maintained.
We need to see the moss as it grows,
Liken it to these words, as all of it flows.
Preferring death to capture, I accomplished the most astonishing deeds, and which, more than once, showed me that the too great care we take of our bodies is the only obstacle to the success of those projects which require rapid decision, and vigorous and determined execution. In reality, when you have once devoted your life to your enterprises, you are no longer the equal of other men, or, rather, other men are no longer your equals, and whosoever has taken this resolution, feels his strength and resources doubled.
-Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo, Chapter XLIV, The Vendetta.
As per the recommendation of one of my fellow bloggers, I began watching the tv series Hannibal a couple of weeks ago. While, I agree with my friend’s views on why the series is good, even, great, at times…there is plenty of discourse already about the content, and not enough looking beyond it. Let’s step back for a few minutes.
Posted in blogging, Criticism, Writing
Tagged creative writing, hannibal, mental disorder, mental illness, privilege, psychology, sobriety, stephenking, writing