Monday, May 19, 2008
Familiar
"There is something about you that is familiar..."
"Is that because I am Human... just like you?"
"Perhaps... but it is something more."
"More or less of bullshit?"
"OK, OK, I give, you got me... it's all bullshit."
"Ahh, yes now *that* sounds familiar, indeed."
02:14 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Friday, April 13, 2007
All you have to do is lay there.
"So, you tell me what do you think?"
"Well, I have to say that it's a rather sticky situation."
"Sticky?!"
"Well, yes. I mean, don't you think that stepping in gum is sticky?"
"Gum? What are you talk..."
"See... you have gum on your shoe."
"Oh that is just GREAT! Not, only do I have cum in my hair, but gum on my shoe!"
"Whoah... how did you get cum in your hair?"
"Are you serious? Where were you 20 mins ago?"
"On top of you."
"And... what else... happened?"
"I have to say that I am rather shocked! You do not remember?"
"I remember, but aprntly you don't! I'm still waiting for you to tell me why you asked me how I go to have cum in my hair."
"Wait... you mean that was me?!"
"Yes."
"Oh, and I thought you were just overzealous with the hair product."
"Hair product? We just had sex in an alley. Where am I going to get hair product from?"
"Good point. But you still have gum on your shoe."
"And you still have a pube sticking out of your mouth."
....
"I finally got the cum out of my hair!"
"I brushed my teeth. Am I free of pubes now?"
"mm well, I don't see any sticking out of your mouth; however, if you totally want to be free of pubes..."
"!"
"Oh, come on, it will be fun! All you have to do is lay there."
"Right. So, just do what you do then?"
"..."
07:09 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
... For I Still Wait for You
Within the chilly air, brings a warm comfort of knowing that you will be there. Under the darkened shadow of sweet Luna herself, every outline of shadow holds a memory of you. Lines that are fleeting, lines that are only but a glimpse from the corner of my eye, and yet, somehow, someway, you can still be seen.
Under the light of the rising Sun, the shadows slither away, racing back to the arms of Luna, seeking shelter, surrendering once again, into the night, waiting for the next earthly visit. As the night borns a new morn, I sit upon this steady rock, gazing upon the rippling water, holding dear the memories of you from night before. As the Sun rays upon the clear water, glistening with a sparkling promise of a new day, here I sit upon this steady rock, waiting for you to make your way...back to me.
The mighty barks stretch high into the Sky, branching into the leaves that sway with the kisses of the wind. I remember the words that you left to linger within me, surpassing anything in which I have ever heard before, penetrating through my flesh, 10,000 inches of aching flesh that eagerly awaits your arrival, flesh that yearns to be soothed by your very hands.
As the morn grows into the half day, I find myself lost in thoughts, thoughts of only you will know, remember, feel. All the times in which we traveled, the places in which we explored; Me the curious one, you the cautious one:
'I want to know what is beyond that path!'
'In time you will, but for now, you must take the time to know the current path; otherwise, we may get lost.'
'And that would be an adventure within itself, would it not?'
'I always enjoy our adventures together, but within this night, within this journey, we must hurry to the end of this path, for you know what awaits us.'
'Yes, I do know what awaits us there, and that is why I am not curious about it, for I.. I.. would rather know what is down the other path. As things stand now, we can survive the unknown, but at the end of this path, we know what is waiting for us, I... I... '
'The fear is great within me also, but, this is what we must do. We must accept this together, for it waits for us together.'
'The closer we get, the more of the end I see, the more of the end I feel and the heavier my steps become.'
These thoughts over and over in my head, causing me to ache to want to tease you out of these torturing thoughts, making you come quicker to me! The half day has grown to the near-end, as the Sun begins to sink down into his slumber, barely keeping awake the radiant rays that has kept me warm, kept me warm in place of your arms tightly around my waist. I brace myself against this steady rock, closing my eyes, to enjoy the last warm ray of the sleepy Sun; My mind rushes back to the day that brings me to why I am waiting for you now:
'I will carry you. I will travel for the both of us. My footprints will be the only ones that they see. They will not continue with only one of us, for they can not begin without the pair of us.'
'I love you far too much to burden you. I am well enough to continue with my own two stubborn feet. I...I...'
'I love you far too much to see you in so much fear. You stay here and I will go alone. If you feel so strongly about this and do not wish to continue with me, then I will go for the both of us.'
'NO!' Let us run away from here, let us chose the other path. They will never find us, they will never think of us having chosen the other path. They expect us, true, but they do not expect us to not come, so that means we have a chance to flee, right now!'
'We can not run from Fate. Her and her sisters have sent for us and so we must go down this path. We must finish this path.'
'It is not really Fate and her sisters in which we fear. It is The Others that make us second-guess ourselves as we stand in limbo on this path. Please, I beg of you, let us chose the other path, then we will know for certain we will always be together!'
This steady rock is holding its true form, for no matter how many times I beat my fists against it, no matter how much of my own blood that spills down the sides, this steady rock is still here, supporting me, something in which... I wish was you instead:
'It is time, for we must go now. We have been called, together, for we must go. They can not wait any longer. Come. Come with me. I can not deny them any longer.'
'O! How high in the heavens must I pray in order for the Gods themselves to strike you with such a force that you are unable to walk! How deep must my knees sink into the sodden Earth to pull you down with me, sink down..down..down..below, to hide within the Underworld, for the Night can keep us safe! I beg you with my core! I urge you to chose the other path with me! The Others, can not be trusted, for they have grown jealous within the recent Moons.'
As I feel my hands go numb, blood-stained with cracking skin, I gaze upon the cool water, seeing the dying Sun slide his reflection across the rippling surface. I stumble forward with weakened knees but only to fall down hard upon the cold Earth onto them. I crawl to the water, wincing at the pain, but concentrating on the waters-edge. The memories increasing with a flow, a flow so great that drowns my mind:
'You are fevered with assumptions! How can you speak of such things? These things in which you speak you do not know fully. For The Others can be trusted, for they have allowed us to be together for this long. They have allowed us to continue as we have been for even before the this land was risen. Come! Come with ME Now! They can not wait any longer.'
'Your words are filled with anger. You have already let The Others conquer your mind, and steal your spirit, for you have already continued down this path and you still attempt to drag me.'
'I love you more than my lungs enjoy the fresh air of this land, in which we have called home. Please, I beg of YOU, Come! Come with me now and you will see what I have seen for The Others are True.'
'How can you love me as much as you say, as much as you continued to say, and yet are forcing me to not stay here, but to follow you into an already known end. How can you love me that much to have me to suffer? You state that you have seen The Others and that they are True. You never left my side. I never left your side. So, when did The Others come to you?'
Reaching the waters-edge, I plunge my hands beneath the surface, in an attempt to wash away the spoiled blood, in an attempt to become pure of thought, pure of Spirit, rid of memory:
'Within the Astral, as I sat and wondered around our meeting place. I hungered for you so much and my passion was with much fervor that the very Astral itself shook and trembled with intense emotion that They noticed and quickly came upon me.'
'Why... did you not tell me this sooner?'
'There were many reasons, but the one in which I believe to be the most True was that I did not want to affect you.'
'Do you realise that I am affected now, in this present realm and time?'
'With each passing word, a minute is lost, for we must go down this path!'
'And with each passing word, a minute is gained, a minute more of being with you.'
Letting my hands plunge deeper into the water, I feel my body slither into the muddy waters-edge, sliding down into the cool water, numbing my memories, numbing my mind, but not numbing the memories of you.
...For I still wait for you.
----7&8---
10:01 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Thursday, March 22, 2007
What is the Difference?
What is the difference between falling in love with someone, or falling in love with an idea of someone?
What is the difference between falling in love with a habit?
Or is falling in love with someone only falling in love with their habits?
How can one tell the difference between falling in love with an idea, habit or someone's habits?
It's amazing how one thing can make you change your whole outlook on things.
Maybe some things are too deep in which to keep one's head above water.
Because, I'm quickly drowning.
06:24 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Monday, March 19, 2007
WORDS: Back and Forth Over and Over Again
You will always have me.
As you will always have me.
My embrace wouldn't faulter if the Gods themselves commanded me;
Concentrate on you; see what happens.
You do everything for a ‘reason’.
Because I enjoy it.
Flustered?
VERY.
Fluster you more…
When you get flustered, I get flustered;
A constant stream.
Delicious Sounds;
Lip biting.
Flavour?
One flavour I utterly ache for.
…Hear me, feel me, squirm…
Indeed, it makes me squirm.
I know what I'll be thinking of
I know what I'm thinking of already.
You’re my natural addiction no rehabilitation could ever keep me from.
I love being your 'herb'…
I'll indulge and 'engorge' at your desire.
…whimpers under a bit lip;
Mumbling, ‘oh gods’.
Over and over again.
… Faster,
Tempting,
Wanting,
Needing,
Desire,
Crave;
Alluring;
You.
Stole the words right from my thoughts.
---... (7&8) ...---
19:35 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Thursday, March 15, 2007
WORDS: Every One Felt
Anticipating you;
With whimpers soft.
Being in entirety;
Complete within you.
Need to crawl towards you;
pulled by lead to want you.
Lusting,
to please;
carnal,
domination,
uncontrollable,
Nothing can quiet the murmurs of temptation.
Throw to pin down;
Gliding into sweaty slides;
Pulsing warm liquid dripping
Down, down, down;
between slick thighs;
Squirming in place;
Aching below;
Licking,
Lapping and flicking;
Tease…slowly;
Hover over me;
Keeping me captive;
Memorizing,
Urge!
Pleading to please;
Demanding more.
Molesting!
Stroking!!
Fondling!!!
Grasping!!!!
Pulling harder…
Craving more…
Constriction.
Panting, panting, panting;
Whimpers into murmurs;
of blissful nonsense.
Breathing for each other.
Spattered words;
Between shallow breaths.
Indulge me!
Rapture and ravish;
Utterly all over;
in every sense
Engorge
me.
--- ... (7&8) ... ---
23:05 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Monday, March 12, 2007
Stop Stop
Stop Stop
You go too fast
Stop Stop
It can not last
Stop stop
Please, I ask
Stop stop
Let it pass
Why Why
Does this continue
Please please
Just tell me
Stop stop
It can not last
I can do no more
The time has passed.
03:32 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
I Won't Be Home Again
I won't be home again;
Am I lost?
You forgot me long ago.
Am I that unimportant?
Am I so trival to forget?
How could you try for me now?
When you could not then?
Is someone missing me?
Somewhere?
Long ago, locked away in a memory box;
Here I am still, shaking within these stocks.
Forgive me;
But, I won't be home again.
I remember what has been done.
Forget me.
Little triggers, explode with synapse;
I faulter little by little...wondering,
'How long can this last?'
Nothing fades;
With each passing day;
Each black mass;
Each tick;
Each twinkling;
...and yet, still no inkling.
I still shan't be home again.
I remember too many shadows.
Transcendental touch;
Seraphic song;
Eternal ecstasy;
Gagging, grasping inside this hutch!
My own umbra uniting with those shadows;
Choking, crushing, constraining my core;
I...I...
...am not sure how much more...
Essence is left.
Like a rag, twisted, wrung into stenosis;
drip...drip...drip..
Pushing it, cramming it past a trembling lip.
---H--- 93.
00:25 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Mirror me rorriM ouY
Mirror me
uoy rorriM
From looking for so long
My eyes blur from distorted images
No longer can I tell which is hcihw
em rorriM
Mirror you
Half of me ereht
Half of me here
Distant from myself
That stranger is looking back at me
And yet, I wonder what they see
ouy rorriM
Mirror me
Lost in a maze of glass
Too fragile to touch
Too cold to hug
Staring blankly back at me
And yet, I wonder what they see
Half of me there
Half of me ereh
Water that separates shows deeper reflection
Rippling images, that wave when I’m still
Reaching out its watery tongue to lick my hand
Retracting when it wants to get a better look at me
And yet, I wonder what it sees.
Mirror you
me rorriM
This glass before me, only moves when I do
Forwarddrawkcab
side
to
side
Only seeing what I see
And yet, I wonder where I’ll be?
hrs © 2006
07:10 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Thursday, November 02, 2006
To Regret Emotional Standards
I've tried to live my life without regret. If something is done, then you shouldn't regret it, but in order to not regret it later, then you must of had to have done the right thing in the first place.
This is often a problem.
At the time in which you chose something or do something, you think it's the right thing to do; however, in hindsight and knowing what you know, you may reconsider that you didn't do the right thing after all.
Thus, you start to become posioned by 'regret'.
There are few people that I know within this world that are 'all or nothing'. I happen to be one of them.
The 'all' to me, is a combination of things that I would like to be, not really things that I would like to have. The 'nothing' is the product of the 'all' that only has a few numbers to that 'combination'.
What am I to do with a half combination? It's not going to help me unlock an 'entirety' of something.
So, instead of just being 'stuck' with a useless, unworkable half combination, then I'd rather 'stick' with the 'nothing'.
Hindsight and regret go hand in hand, frockling down a path of uncertainty and apprehension. Apprehensive about the uncertainty of what lies on the path, around the path, beyond the path and within the path.
The path quickly becomes compromised and unwalkable.
If I knew what I know now, 10 years ago, then I wouldn't be where I am now. But, if I knew then what I do know now, then I wouldn't have been in the position to realise anything... because... nothing would be as it truely is now.
Stability is part of the 'all' that I long to have underneath my feet. Stability is a good number to have amongst the combination... it greatens the 'statistic' of a happier life.
But what actually 'is' a happier life? Some people think that money is a happiness inducing addition. Some people think that money isn't everything. Money, like with other materialistic virtues can bring either happiness or bitterness. It can make a person jealous, greedy and impatient. Or, make a person joyous, charitiable or frivoulous.
If something as physcially 'simple' as spendable paper can do all them things, then just think of the power of what one's mind can do.
The mind can either deal with stress or just block out stressful things. For me, the mind is more important than spendable paper... in this case, just plain paper would be a stress reducer for mind.
And is that stress reduced further if the plain paper is blanketed with emotional words? Is that stress relived even further if someone can respond to the emotional words? Does that stress get closer to fleeing completely away if someone actually also, emotionally acknowleged those words?
Maybe. But, again it's all 'nothing' if that someone doesn't even bother to fully read or comprehend what those emotional words actually 'mean'.
The the writer can become even more stressed out if they are told, 'Sorry, but I just don't understand what you say.'
OK. Then can you at least tell me why you are in my life?
I've always thought, it's not the quanity of people that are involved in one's life, but the quality of people. I've often wondered if my own standards are too high for those that I have in my life.
On a moral, virtuistic and emotionally standpoint, I mean. Not in the 'mortal' sense. I'm not an 'eliteist'.
Maybe there is something within me that attracts certain 'whatevers' into my life that I'm supposed to either do something with or vanquish from my life altogether.
Is there such a thing as an emotional reconstruction?
Is there such a thing as emotional damage control?
Is there such a thing as emotional standards?
If there is such a thing as the latter, then why am I fucking wasting my time with those that do not have the same emotional standards as me?
08:18 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Friday, October 20, 2006
Switch, Darlin.
Ravish you with unraveled rope
Pulling your tethers, tugging your throat
Closer, closer, the harder I pull
Further, further the distance grows.
It’s not just me, can’t you see?
Of course you can, because we both agree:
Frustrating, isn’t it?
Upheaval to you;
Utopia to me;
Ravish you
Capture me
You keep me as a twisted loop within your bonds;
Dangling, writhing;
Squirming, struggling;
Unable to obtain;
A silver cord is all we have;
Nothing physical to sustain.
Capture you
Ravish me
Anti-matter to you
But it matters to me.
Beyond the physical realms;
Predicting futures that we don’t know;
Ravish you
Capture me
How could this all be?
Feel you
Sense me
RAVISH YOU
CAPTURE ME
Switch, Darlin.
®hrs.'06
08:04 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Saturday, June 17, 2006
PBS and how he has 'the point'.
....Detailed meanings in the simplest of words. Shelly did understand 'the point'.
True Love in this differs from gold and clay,
That to divide is not to take away.
Love is like understanding, that grows bright,
Gazing on many trusth; 'tis like thy light,
Imagination! which from earth and sky,
And from the depths of human phantasy,
As from a thousand prisms and mirros, fills
The Universe with glorious beams, and kills
Error, the worm, with many a sun-like arrow
Of its reverberated lightening. Narrow
The Heart that loves, the brain that contemplates,
The Life that wears, the spirit that creates
One obeject, and one form, and builds thereby
A sepulchre for its eternity.
Mind from its object differs most in this:
Evil from good; misery from happiness;
The baser from the nobler; the impure
And frail, from what is clear and must endure.
If you divide suffering and dross, you may
Diminish till it is consumed away;
If you divide pleasure and love and thought,
Each part exceeds the whole; and we know not
How much, while any yet remains unshared,
Of pleasure may be gained, of sorrow speared:
This truth is that deep well, whence sages draw
The unenvied light of hope; the eternal law
By which those live, to whom this world of life
Is as a garden ravaged, and whose strife
Tills for the promise of a later birth
The wildness of this Elysian earth.
--Percy Bysshe Shelly. Epipsychidion. Li.160-189.
-----
Speechless?
Yes... Now see the point?
04:31 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The Volkharian II
“You turn your head quick, Anguis or is that your heart sinking back to its mortal depth?” Caldo says with a snicker. Anguis slowly turns his gaze to the snickering red dragon and replies, ‘You not know of my heart.’
“What hold does this creature have over you? She would have made a fine feast, had it not been for your interference!”
The red dragon stretches his grey wings upward and out, his talons planted firmly on the ground and sulks closer to the girl. Anguis quickly reaches out his arm, his claws skipping over the leather straps that bind the girl’s body, slashing the straps, and cutting the rope that allows the freedom of her arms. Sliding his arms under the weak girl, he picks her up and cradles her turning to Caldo and spits out, ‘Regard this as my payment for killing your Elder.’
Caldo widens his dark green beady eyes, raising his head to several feet above Anguis’ mere seven foot height and rumbles out, ‘Fortunate for you, mortal lover, I behold Honour above feeding.’ Caldo retracts his large wingspan, watching carefully as Anguis tenderly loosens the blindfold, causing the thorns to fall from the girl’s face.
Anguis hoists the girl’s limp body over his left shoulder, turning frontal to the red dragon and says, ‘Fortune is bountiful with you, for your Honour has finally shown through, my friend.’ Caldo lids his eyes over the pair and retorts, ‘I am positive that a bounty of that creature in my belly would have also been fortunate.’ Anguis smiles warmly and turns his back to the red dragon, taking a couple of steps forward towards the edge of the forest and says over his right shoulder, ‘It’s time.’ Caldo sighs softly, a look of distaste on his sunken scarred face and gathers his wings and follows the shape-shifter into the forest, ‘Can I eat the next mortal?’
11:15 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Indeed.
Indeed.
Astonishing idiopathic strings woven together like words from a dream;
Had I ever would believed it, not knowing what I have seen?
Distant rubicon pictures floating by a restful stream;
Water flowing, running free and there I layed;
Could this all be just a dream?
Indeed.
A ideal pleochroism spinning ideological and most emotionally radical idealism.
The 'idea' of it all.
Indeed.
--.--
xx.xx
hrs.
10:47 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Sleeping Faerie
Sleeping Faerie
Are you feeling drowsy, little fae?
Soon your eyes shall shut out the sun...
Are you sleeping, little fae?
'Do not disturb', bubbles the brook that runs.
Order silence to command your feet!
Rustle, rustle as leaves fall discret
Are you dreaming, little fae?
....I'll chase your nightmares away...
--HRS.
*sighs* Awww, look, I wrote Asadora a poem... she's so lucky!
:-p
00:50 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
The Life of a Maiden: Captive even in death
The Harvested Maiden
In the closet of flattery, the sheets are soaked.
Soft rumpled cotton, in a heap on the floor
Peeking shades attached to the latched door
Knock, knock…let me out
Shivering seduction locked away between walls;
Soft radiant sheared hair, in a heap on the floor
Prickling skin, constant shaking…can’t take much more.
Desperate pleading goes unheard.
In the brothel of silence, the cages tempt
Steel reflected strobe lights, probing every inch
Prick punched decorations, adorns a metal cinch
Bleeding wrists ache untreated.
In the cauldron of arrogance, the graces tumble;
Slowly escaping murmurs, silenced into humble;
Penetrating metal, stirring a liquid boiling bubble;
Sniffing demonic perfidy, invading underneath.
In the autumn of devotion, the demons hunt;
Seasoned veterans, harvesting moral decay;
Predawn lurking, witnessing writhing displays;
Marking their chosen treat with a lusting glare.
In the black iron pot, the broth screeches;
Summoning the ingredients, salivating over anticipation;
Pinch of mortal fear and a dash of desperation;
Lingering fragrance, enticing anxious tongues.
In the smoke filled brothel, the handmaid's bond;
Saturated clothing torn and hanging from trembling limbs;
Petrified palpitations, beating out every fancied whim;
Desperate twittering for a quick fated death.
In the valley of disorder, the soldiers binge;
Scale covered claws, yanking bonded flesh;
Picking tortured innocence, struggling enmeshed.
Gurgle, gurgle the bubbles yelp.
In the blood splattered cave, the bones are clean.
Sharp jagged edges, having been ripped apart;
Piles of gnawed meat slivers, left of broken hearts.
Satiated sighs bounce with echoes.
The Last Memories of a Maiden
Soaked sheets
Rumpled cotton
Latched door
Knock.
Shivering seduction
Sheared hair
Constant shaking
Desperate pleading.
Tempting cages
Strobe probing
Metal cinch
Wrists ache
Tumbled graces
Silenced murmurs
Penetrating metal
Demonic invasion
Demons hunt
Harvest decay
Writhing displays
Lusting glare
Black broth
Summoning anticipation
Mortal desperation
Enticing tongues
Handmaid bond
Trembling limbs
Beating out
Quick death
Disordered soldiers
Bonded flesh
Tortured struggles
Bubbles gurgle
Clean bones
Sharp edges
Gnawed hearts
Satiated echoes.
*/I've been feeling a bit 'dark' lately. I'm not sure why. It's been pent up in me for days; however, as you can see with what I wrote above, both pieces shines a dim 'light' on what I have been feeling for the past couple of days.
If the first piece is hard to understand, then the second piece might be better suited, for those that don't have the patience to understand. It's like I 'crib-poemed' my own work. I'm so thoughtful. I'm so thoughtful, that in recent light of events that I shall also mark a disclaimer to the above, which is as follows:
What is typed here is no 'reflection' of what has been said to or aimed at me.
My feelings and emotions are generated by the underlying points of what I perceive.
How I perceive things has no 'indication' on how I 'feel' about others, or their motives. When I write, my words are organic which is rather difficult to get across in a pesticide world.
So, hopefully, I've made my point very clear./*
-----After the Equinox. 02:26.06. HRS.
02:50 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Friday, March 24, 2006
Drinking alone in the moonlight
Number one
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
Number Two
Now, if Heaven didn’t love wine,
There wouldn’t be a Wine Star in Heaven.
And if Earth didn’t love wine,
Earth shouldn’t have the town of Wine Spring.
But since Heaven and Earth love wine,
Loving wine is no crime with Heaven.
The light, I hear, is like a sage;
The heavy, they say, is called the worthy.
If I have drunk with the sage and worthy,
What need have I to search for immortals?
Three cups and I’ve mastered the Way;
A jarful and I am at one with Nature.
A man can get hold of the spirit of drinking,
But no point explaining to those who abstain.
------Li Po (701 - 762).
17:15 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
I am constantly wounded
I am constantly wounded
By the deadly gossip that adds
Insult to injury, that
Punishes me mercilessly
With the news of your latest
Scandal in my ears. Wherever
I go the smirking fame of each
Fresh despicable infamy
Has run on ahead of me.
Can’t you learn to be cautious
About your lecheries?
Hide your practices in darkness;
Keep away from raised eyebrows.
If you must murder love, do it
Covertly, with your candied
Prurience and murmured lewdness.
You were never the heroine
Of dirty stories in the days
When love bound us together.
Now those links are broken, desire
Is frozen, and you are free
To indulge every morbid lust,
And filthy jokes about your
Latest amour are the delight
Of every cocktail party.
Your boudoir is a brothel ;
Your salon is a saloon;
Even your sensibilities
And your depraved innocence
Are only special premiums,
Rewards of a shameful commerce.
O the heart breaking memory
Of days like flowers, and your
Eyes that shone like Venus the star
In our brief nights, and the soft bird
Flight of your love about me;
And now your eyes are as bitter
As a rattlesnake’s dead eyes,
And your disdain as malignant.
Those who give off the smell of coin
You warm in bed; I who have
Love to bring am not even
Allowed to speak to you now.
You receive charlatans and fools;
I have only the swindling
Memory of poisoned honey.
---Peter Abelard (d. 1142).
17:03 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Five Poems
1
If you should say to me, “Don’t mention love”
I’ll manage to restrain my tongue by force,
But if you try prohibiting my tears
The Tigris can’t be altered in its course.
2
Until you can correct and heal yourself
Be quiet about another man’s disgrace-
Don’t be the bare-assed bullying constable
Who hits a whore and tells her, “Veil your face!”
3
When once the soul is ready to depart, sir;
All surgeons and their science are sure to fail,
Since no dead donkey’s going to stand again
However much you pull its ears or tail.
4
He glanced at me one day – but then his mean
Suspicious tutor had to intervene;
He wouldn’t let the sunlight fall on me
But like a louring cloud pushed in between.
5
O I repented, wore my pious cloak
Listened and looked wherever wise men spoke,
But then I saw that cypress bodied boy
And I forgot their sayings at a stroke.
---- Sa'di (d. 1292)
16:51 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Extracting Chaos with intended Will
“I have nothing left to give you! I’ve told you time and time again that there is nothing I can do for you now.”
“My sweet, there is something that you possess that I want and I shan’t leave here, till I am in possession of it.”
She looks up at him, narrowing her eyes, clenching her fists behind her back, twitching her shoulders at an increased rate, struggling to loosen the ropes that bind her.
“I have nothing left in which to possess.
You have tainted my innocence.
You have dismantled my ideas.
You have tarnished my virtues.
You have eradicated my dreams.
You have slashed away at every moral fibre and now I am bound before you without Honour, pride or defiance.
I am before you naked in morality, stripped of all mortal concern and bruised by wicked intentions.”
He slowly stands up, walking around her, inspecting her, as if she was some item left on a shop shelf. But, it’s widely known that he has already had this particular item and has returned it many times before.
But, no one knew why he kept returning it.
“You speak of me as if I am dark monster, when all I have done is to protect you.”
“Protect me?” She raises her brow, her soft grey eyes darkening as she lets out a soft growl.
He chuckles low to himself before replying, “Why, little one, why is it that you growl? Do you sense danger near?”
“The danger is you.”
He takes the tip of his index finger and traces the outline of her jaw, bending low towards her ear he whispers, “I am only what you have allowed me to become. You created me. You summoned me from the depths of my internal sleep to come and aid you and that I have. Now, I only want what continues to keep me here.”
She jerks her head away, her hair falling over her shoulders, covering her bare breasts.
“You did not have to answer the summon.”
“Yes, this is true; however, I did, so talking about what could have or not could have been is rather pointless now, my sweet.”
He grins wryly as he floats his hand to the top of her head, taking a strand of her raven hair between his fingers and letting it slowly slip through.
She lowers her head, as she feels her heartbeat begin to race, her chest heaving she softly says, “After all the emotional torment that I suffered within this poor bruised body, you still have some sort of power over me, and still, I can not find the strength in order to resist you.”
He stands behind her, continuing to lift the soft strands of hair, letting them slip through his fingers, taking his free hand, he gently places it at the base of her neck, letting his claws rest lightly on her jugular vein and sternly says, “The moment you murmured my name aloud, I was already here. The moment you thought of my name, I knew you had no fear of me, so why fear now?”
She casts her eyes downward, eyeing the position of his hand on her neck and softly whispers, “I fear what I see now. I did not fear what was seen then.”
He tightens his grip around her neck, his claw pressing harder against her jugular vein, his voice sounding low and deep, “And that is why I am here to protect you, because you have that fear. Don’t fool yourself in thinking that you had no fear before, for that was the basis on why you summoned me to begin with.”
She reaches out her neck, straining against his grasp, she lets out a weak whimper. Her arms numb from her tight bindings, she struggles again, risking the fate of her life, as his claw sinks deeper into her flesh with each attempted struggle.
“If there is something that I still possess and you wish to have it, then I shall have to make sure that you do not take it whilst I am still alive.” Her chest expands suddenly as she twists her body from side to side, in a poor attempt at trying to loosen the ropes with her quick movements.
He lessens his grip, as not to allow his sharp claw to puncture her vein. He continues to hold her neck, feeling her writhe within his grasp, he smiles as he feels a rapid flow of emotional energies swell up into him, casting away the present moment into a soft lull of silent chaos, filling him with an increased passion, a yearning to possess the only thing she has left.
As she continues to struggle, she notices that he has removed his claw and realises that he doesn’t want her death after all….
She becomes still, raising her head and straightening her back against the studded steel pole and says, “My Chaos that is what you want. You want to feel my chaos, because it gives you power.”
He looks down at her, letting his hand creep onto her shoulder, as he continues to stroke the delicate strands of her hair, “The chaotic nature of your Will, is what I am precisely after, my sweet.”
A loud gasp is heard from her partly open mouth as her movements cease, almost as much as her breathing.
“Do What Thy Wilt Shall be the Whole of the Law.”
------ 6:15am Cusp of Ostra - HRS.
06:16 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Thursday, March 16, 2006
The Volkharian: Death is near
“You turn your head quick, Anguis or is that your heart sinking back to its mortal depth?” Caldo says with a snicker.
Anguis slowly turns his gaze to the snickering red dragon and replies, ‘You not know of my heart.’
“What hold does this creature have over you? She would have made a fine feast, had it not been for your interference!”
The red dragon stretches his grey wings upward and out, his talons planted firmly on the ground and sulks closer to the girl. Anguis quickly reaches out his arm, his claws skipping over the leather straps that bind the girl’s body, slashing the straps, and cutting the rope that allows the freedom of her arms. Sliding his arms under the weak girl, he picks her up and cradles her turning to Caldo and spits out, ‘Regard this as my payment for killing your Elder.’
Caldo widens his dark green beady eyes, raising his head to several feet above Anguis’ mere seven foot height and rumbles out, ‘Fortunate for you, mortal lover, I behold Honour above feeding.’ Caldo retracts his large wingspan, watching carefully as Anguis tenderly loosens the blindfold, causing the thorns to fall from the girl’s face.
Anguis hoists the girl’s limp body over his left shoulder, turning frontal to the red dragon and says, ‘Fortune is bountiful with you, for your Honour has finally shown through, my friend.’
Caldo lids his eyes over the pair and retorts, ‘I am positive that a bounty of that creature in my belly would have also been fortunate.’
Anguis smiles warmly and turns his back to the red dragon, taking a couple of steps forward towards the edge of the forest and says over his right shoulder, ‘It’s time.’
Caldo sighs softly, a look of distaste on his sunken scarred face and gathers his wings and follows the shape-shifter into the forest, ‘Can I eat the next mortal?’
Anguis chuckles softly and replies, ‘If they anger me.’
Caldo growls low before letting out a huff of annoyance and exclaims, ‘If that is so the case, then I shall never get to eat!’
They walk deeper into the forest, Anguis narrows his eyes and whispers, ‘You will eat, trust me, in time, you will eat.’ Anguis caresses the girl’s ankles, noticing the whelp marks, ‘And the time will be soon.’
Caldo walks behind Anguis, eyeing up the girl noticing her blood stained face, her arms dangling down Anguis’ back, suddenly he feels more alert to their surroundings. He thinks to himself, ‘There is something about this creature that awakens a different calling to me than hunger.’ Caldo continues to stride behind, moving peering eyes side to side, his senses perked.
At mid-moon the pair decided that it would be a good time to rest, for they were almost through the forest. Caldo jumped into an overhanging thick tree branch and rested his back up against the trunk, looking down at Anguis, watching him prop the girl against the bottom trunk of the great Orpis tree. Anguis reaches his hand into his pouch and pulls out a glass bottle of a greenish liquid, placing it to the girl’s lips. He brushes the hair off her forehead and urges with the tip of the bottle to her mouth. She flutters her eyes open, looking woefully up at him and whispers, ‘Thank you.’ She gently places her lips on tip of the bottle, letting her swollen fingers move across his as she takes the bottle in full, gulping the sweet liquid down.
Caldo hears the girl’s soft voice and remarks, ‘I have never heard those words from the mouth of a mortal before.’
Anguis carefully watches the girl, as she holds the glass bottle carefully in her small hands, ‘I have. Long ago, I heard those words.’
The moon rays beamed down through the leaves of the budding orpis trees. Yellow kaliana flowers blossomed their sweet apple like fragrance mixing with the gentle breeze from the north. The girl closes her eyes, resting her head against the tree, her breathing slow and relaxed as her hold on the bottle begins to loosen, allowing it to tumble towards the ground. Anguis quickly reaches a long arm out, catching the bottle before placing it back into his purple silk pouch.
Caldo snickers softly and says, ‘Good to see you haven’t lost your reflexes, shape-shifter.’
Anguis curls his lips into a wide grin, ‘Unlike your sense of humour, dragon.’
‘I have plenty of humour, you just fail to see it most of the time.’
‘I believe the truth is that you fail to produce it most of the time.’
‘I’m over 98 yarns old. Humour makes my bones rattle.’
‘Yes, and that rattling is called ‘laughing’, my friend.’
Caldo glances his eyes upward to the sky, letting out a small huff as he tries not to let Anguis see his grin.
Anguis chuckles upward to his dragon friend. ‘When shall we make headway?’ Anguis gently eases his hand on top of the girl’s head, stroking her hair softly, as he squats down beside her he takes his other hand and lifts up her hands, examining them.
‘ The bones in her hands are broken. Her fingers are swollen. She has whelp marks on her legs and her face is scratched with dried blood. Her hair looks as though it has been ripped from her scalp, strands are missing.’ Anguis looks up to the red dragon and narrows his eyes as he continues, ‘We have to replenish her health; we need to summon a healer.’
Caldo peers down at his friend and says in a soothing manner, ‘Anguis, this is most unlike you, to have such strong emotion so quickly over a mortal.’
Caldo swoops down from the top trunk, landing perfectly on his talons, gathering his wings to be able to get close enough to the girl to inspect her further. He sniffs her, smelling the blood on her, ‘She hasn’t lost much blood, only what is remaining on her face.’ Caldo gently places a thin claw on the girl’s throat, tracing to her jugular vein, feeling the slow thump-thump getting slower.
Anguis asks softly, ‘Will the teala drink have helped?’
Caldo looks to his friend, ‘If she is human, it should have helped her to keep conscience by now.’
Anguis quickly turns around, ‘What do you mean, ‘if she is human’?’
Caldo shakes his dark head, ‘She is not human, for the teala hasn’t improved her condition.’
Anguis turns to his friend, clenching his fists tightly at his sides, ‘Explain. Now.’
Caldo downcasts his sunken eyes, carefully wrapping his claws around the girl’s small wrists encasing them with his claws as he slowly moves upwards, examining more of her bone structure.
“Teala is extracted from mortal genes and once it is digested by a mortal then the healing affects of the mutated DNA increases the oxygen in the mortal blood that increases the immune system which is then able to fight off infection at a quicken rate.” Caldo continues to move his claws over the girl’s shoulders before replacing them on her thighs, gently using the curve of the underside of his claws as he glides across her skin.
‘If she is not full mortal, then what is she?’ Anguis gives his friend a concern look.
“She will be dead soon that is certain.”
“Caldo, we can not let her die! Summon a healer, now!”
Caldo tenderly moves his arms over the girl, picking her up and holding her close to his feathery chest, ‘The summoning would take time. I shall fly to the healer, which will not take as much time.’ He stands to his full height, spanning his wings to and jumps into the air, his bellowing wings blocking the moon rays, ‘You want her to live, then I must fly.’
Anguis waves his hand and exclaims, ‘Be gone!’
Caldo begins to slowly flap his wings, soaring higher into the air. The girl’s head supported by his strong chest, her legs dangling over his arm.
Anguis peers upward as they fly off into the distance, getting a sudden pang in his chest and whispers out loud, ‘Your reward will be a feast, my friend’
He gathers himself and begins to run through the rest of the forest. His strong legs picking up a quicker pace, as he exits the forest, looking straight head, a determined strength pumping his thick thighs. The moon begins to settle behind the horizon, knowing his time is short, he engages his cloaking device and disappears into the air.
16:50 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Monday, March 13, 2006
The Volkhairan
*/ I started my period yesterday, finally! So, needless to say I've been feeling rather more creative and to show how creative I've been the following should be useful./*
Her twisted body slumped on the swollen ground. Her tangled hair, damp with sweat sticking to her face. The tiny bones in her hands fractured, but yet she painfully continues to hold on to the rope dangling above her head.
Unable to see, she blinks her eyes behind the thorned blindfold, causing burning tears to slide down her cheeks. The intense thumping of her heart forcing her chest to expand as she gasps for air; Her chest heaving within the binds of the buckled corset. Soft whimpers float into the air, mixing with the sounds of the water gushing over the rocks that surround her.
Her mind floods with memories from the night before, remembering her capture and ravaged by dragon-like monsters that swooped down upon her.
She blinks again with agony, the thorns pricking the corner of her eyes as she tastes the sweet blood that now trickles down her face, sliding onto her lips.
She tries to pull her knees upward, but fails as the leather straps binding her to the ground prevents her. As she tries to adjust her twisted torso, heavy footsteps are heard in the distance. She becomes still.
“She must be dead by now.”
“If she is dead, then we have wasted our efforts.”
Hearing the voices of the footsteps approach her, her whimpers cease.
“She looks dead, Anguis.”
A slow smile spreads across his face as he replies, ‘I can hear her heart beating.’ Anguis approaches the girl from the left and towers over her, looking down at the twisted torso, the raised arms, almost entranced by the sudden expansion of her chest. ‘She knows we are here. She is still conscience.’
Anguis reaches out his large arm, extending his claws and hovers it above the leather straps that bind her legs and says, ‘She has survived this long, that shows strength, so killing her now would be a waste, Caldo.’
Caldo raises his brow, looking somewhat sternly at the Volkhairan and replies, ‘Is it a waste to feed hunger?’
“It is a waste to kill a creature that posses more strength than you.”
“Anguis, your heart has turned to mortal mush. This creature only has one use and that is to sustain my belly.”
As the girl hears the two beings converse over her half clothed body, she partly opens her mouth allowing a small whimper drift out.
Anguis withdraws his arm, allowing it to drop back to the hilt of his swiftspike. He quickly turns his head, for Caldo was right, his heart was turned to mortal mush when he first set eyes on the creature whimpering below him.
---
I might work on it some more, might not. Depends if I get bored with it rather than entertained by it.
12:50 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
Monday, February 27, 2006
Beautiful Bond
Beyond the beautiful bond between;
Rope tight around my wrists;
Ankles tense with restrictive pleasure;
Slow shallow breathing;
Clinching trembling fists.
Tender touches linger long;
drifting down tingling spine.
Feeling the heat ignite inside;
Twisting beatuy at Your feet.
Slow breathing, escapes in relief.
Overcomed obedience waiting at Your feet.
Servant to seize Your whims;
Desire to be Your feast.
Soft satin scarves stroking skin;
slowly up...
slowly down...
Sensuous sounds in surrender;
Magnificent mercy at Your feet.
Aching to grip You like a glorious God;
Clutching Your clothes;
Clawing Your flesh.
Instant intoxication engulfing all!
Quiet quivers quaking the flesh;
Releasing shameless spirit;
Bowing head towards a tranquil tower;
Rising above, embracing Your power!
--HRS 2004 (I remember now, because it says so in Word:-p).
12:50 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Friday, February 03, 2006
Byron consoles
“When We Two Parted” When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this: The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow— It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o’er me— Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well: Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell. In secret we met – In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? With silence and tears.
-- Lord Byron "When We Two Parted". 1810.
18:25 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Friday, November 18, 2005
Unexpecting Trust
The trees towered over her, as she walked through the forest. Leaves crunched softly under her feet, as she inhaled the sweet smell of Autumn. She knew the forest well, every grassy path and woodland creature. Everyday, she would stroll through, greeting the trees, knowing that they would always be there. She was so confident of this that she would on occasion blindfold herself, which caused her great excitement, feeling the forest, without the added distraction of admiring the scenic views.
One afternoon, while she was on a blindfolded stroll; she sensed something different. She shrugged it off and thought to herself that maybe the woodland creatures were taking time off and sleeping. Reaching out her hands, she felt the rough bark of her favourite tree and wrapped her arms around tightly, enjoying the earthy feel of natural strength.
The forest was still, only the sound of her relaxed breathing filled the air around her. As she embraced the tree, she leaned her head against the trunk. She thought of all the times she had been at the tree; it's beauty awe-inspiring, it's height overwhelming. She enjoyed feeling so small compared to such a wonderment of nature, as it's reaching branches protected her from the wild winds.
She continued to get lost in her own thoughts, not realizing that she was being watched a few feet away.
He had also enjoyed the forest. But he normally visited at night. He loved the night air as it rustled the leaves, loosening them just enough from the branches, that come the morning breeze, they would float sideways down upon the forest floor. He would watch the nocturnal creatures, as they sulked from their holes. He liked watching them as they scavaged amongst the decay and ugly things rotting in buried places.
He had seen her come into the forest once before. She was passing through, just as he was coming in for his nightly fix. He was taken aback by the amount of trust she held in the Forest. He also knew the Forest well and enjoyed watching her, as the breeze gently kicked up her hair, making it sway, tumbling down her back. He noticed her smooth skin, as her hands petted the shrubs in which he hid behind. He was so close, close enough to reach out and grab her, but he knew there would be another time.
He carefully crept behind her, moving his feet swiftly and quietly.
She had no idea what was coming towards her. No idea that an admirer from afar was about to strike her and take her right then.
Even though she trusted the forest; she couldn't trust the things that entered and exited just as freely as her.
......
Can you spot the 'point'?
17:30 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Conjuration
Circumlocution billows smoke;
Conjuring idolatrous affections;
Through tohubohu, I collide.
If you could get inside my head;
You'd understand.
14:35 Posted in Dwellings | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this