Eyes of forest upon eyes of midnight
our souls become singular and flowing
like a soft and meandering current
filling one and then the other
and then the other again,
until we are each the same stream
Fingertips made of satin stroking skin
made of silk stretched over stone
my body feels heavy and hot,
desire stoked into fire when we speak
ciphers made of love and of dreams
sculpted around our longing.
Bottom lips escape into tight spaces
between teeth and tongues dart out
of their own accord to wet lips
yearning to taste the first kiss that
will bring with it the tide of satiety,
but first of taste and touch.
Sharply inhaling breaths forged solely
from adoration reserved for lust,
from a white hot need burning in my chest
clumsy, shaky fingers grip my own skin
while my tongue wets lips gone dry
at the sight of your wanting
The first long exhale, a sigh from your lips
that signals your climb towards the peak
has settled in and my fingers now belong
to the pitch of your stuttered breathing
and to the symphony of your wicked
and delicious suffering.
And when you come apart and I say your name,
I splinter into a million tiny stars
my soul soaring closer and closer
to my sun until they begin to shimmer
and float lazily back to my body
where they settle in new configurations
I should have mixed the pain(t)
before I raised my brush,
a devil hatched a saint
then stroked the white with blush.
The redness of these eyes
once radiant and lush
would palpitate with cries
in wounds I couldn't hush.
I should have kept my secrets
or mixed the reds with white
I might have cleansed my spirit
but grey was stealing light,
instead I played with blues
and envy's greenish hues
it's magic I would bleed;
another purple bruise.
Soon I had a canvas
that was black before my eyes
when all the rainbow colors
you might find to mesmerize
had faded with the beauty
and the portrait of my peace
I lost myself in pain(ting)
as I wept a masterpiece.
The colors of the hearts
that the world considers bland,
I should have mixed the colors
so beautiful and grand
instead I bled acrylic
on easel's, dead and damned
then smeared the dripping pain(t)
with the tears and years that ran.
It seems people attach emotions to everything. The need to reproduce is a big one. People keep making new people. The need to survive as a species creates physiological symptoms, among them are human sentiments.
Every emotion is based on some sort of physical need. For every action there is a reaction. Every desire, concern, or despair are manifestations of physical reactivity.
thoughts?
Most of us assume that cats purr because they are content. It seems like a logical explanation, after all we hear them purr when their mothers nurse them or when they are being social with humans.
But on closer observation, domestic cats(purring is not completely unique to domestic cats. There are a few other members of the Felidae species that purr.) seem to purr in stressful situations like going to the vet or when they are in pain. Some research suggests that purring can be a healing mechanism.
what makes the "purr" more distinctive than other cat sounds, such as the meow, is that is produced with the entire respiratory cycle.(Inhaling and exhaling.) The meow is limited to the expiration of breath.
It seems likely that the purr comes from the laryngeal muscles and probably involuntary.
EDIT 09/2021
The owner of this blog requested his aartical be loinked with this blog.
Why do cats purr
but still have no idea why anyone would be offended because I told him he reminded me of a leprechaun?
A dim red light glowed softly, gently, as not to disturb the
perfect darkness. An ancient silence whispered in my ear, “nihil hic vivit, neque etiam te….”
As if painted on the tail of a lost memory, the words came from within.
“Nothing lives here, not even you.”
I had no recollection of being elsewhere, but
a faint murmur, echoed songs from another world. A dense haze blanketed the
bridges connecting this realm with others.
A million miles of blackness stretched from far below me to infinity. It
seemed I looked down from space at a world long forgotten, and saw a much
younger me. She returned my gaze, pleading urgently for something I couldn’t
recall. It occurred to me as she stared at me with hopeful eyes that she hadn’t
a clue that she was wishing upon a dead star.
A steady “thump-thump” drummed through the atmosphere. That rhythm
lived here in the shadows, sleeping with its red night light. A cozy warmth
enveloped me. I thought that perhaps I
might just stay here forever, in blissful nothingness.
An unwelcomed light appeared, making its way through the fog,
relentlessly pushing itself out of the dark. From the empty came swarms of insects, beetles
perhaps. Magnetically drawn to the fluorescent
beam, the insects terminated themselves.
One by one, obliterated like fallen soldiers on enemy turf.
The light forced its way
through the empty until there was only brightness. I floated on gentle waves of sparkling, blue water. A slight scent of salt tinged the mild
breeze. For just a moment, things were
perfect.
And just before I was about to slip into dumb complacency, a
glistening wall of water appeared. A Trojan horse barreled towards me at a
super-sonic speed. Death wrapped in a sparkling box, with white ribbon,
engulfed me. It felt like I was tumbling around in a washing machine that I
couldn’t turn off. Lost in the infinity
of an abyss, the dwindling remains of my conscience short circuited.
A
faint “thump-thump,” rolled through a familiar void. It appeared a living entity, who came from
within me and outside me; protected me perhaps. Steadily the drumming began to crescendo.
No longer could I distinguish myself as a separate being. The tempo remained steady, while a pressure
grew around me, and became progressively more intense. The red light dwindled and merged with a new
white light.
The piercing rays glowed more intensely as I made my way through the cramped
tunnel. People cooed at me and made funny faces at me. I let loose a reptilian
cry. Eventually I escaped into daydreams.
A still
emptiness held me, begging my attention.
And from within, a film began- a collage of memories. “Make it stop,” I cried into the deaf ear of
infinity.
Remembering my
childhood, the awkward tensions of early adulthood, and finally sometime near
the present. I felt violated.
Through a veil of condensation,
an inner reflection escaped into the night. Everything was so hazy.
Nightfall lurked
nearby. Although cloaked with trees and
pine needles, a surreal realm of familiarity merged with an uncertain forever. Not so far away, an outline twisted and
turned into the present. Someone was
drowning in a small body of water that was otherwise stagnant.
In the murky night, I
saw her submerge into the water. Darkness swallowed her and she was gone. The sobering recollection pushed its way forward;
my dear little sister.
Again, I was consumed to vacancy… loneliness concealed in a dense fog.
Sadness resonated from the mist--- a wailing wall of grief, pain and isolation
A dark figure emerged. It appeared feminine, clad in long flowing black robes
and a hood that hid its face.
The figure spoke. Its voice confirmed that it
was undeniably female.
"I've been waiting for you." She said, in a soft almost melodic
voice.
I paused, baffled.
Only a soft, “why is that?” escaped my lips.
“I've come to collect you."
An anvil of dread dropped on me.
"come. Walk with me.”
The apparition woman remained calm. “There is only one way out,” she whispered.
She motioned me to follow her into the fog.
I followed her down a windy stairwell that never seemed to end. The fog seemed
to be getting even thicker. Sorrow lived here.
After decades of
descending steps, we finally reached the bottom. There was nothing there---
just a door. From it, darkness tinged with a reddish glow, seeped through its
cracks.
Perspiration dripped down my face. I wanted to run but there was nowhere to
run. I wanted to get out of there.
I forced myself to ask, “Where does this door go?”
“I think you know the answer to that question,” she said.
The concept of hell had always fascinated me, although I didn’t really believe
it to be real. I assumed that the idea
of a “nether world,” was a scare tactic used to hinder people from doing
pleasant things.
I pinched myself,
half-believing I’d wake up. A foul taste filled my mouth and for a moment, I
thought I might vomit.
A dull state of awareness found me in an overflowing bathtub. Unable to move, I felt a beast known as panic pounce
on my submerged head. Little waves of
thought crashed undistinguishably. I
thought to myself, “this is what it’s like. This is what it feels like to
die. Fading screams, begging me to fight
for survival reverberated through semi-consciousness.
Without warning, my last recollections waltzed in. The bottle of sedatives the running bath
water. I planned this.
The bathroom fogged from the bath’s
evaporation. It blurred into misty grey. Breathing proved an impossible task.
My survival instincts dulled.
The condensation grew thicker. And from it, the lady in black emerged. She took my hand in hers, almost comforting
me. A dim red light glowed through the crack in the bathroom door that was no
longer the bathroom door.
I turned to take one last glimpse of my
lifeless body. The over flowing water sparkled deceptively. Warm water splashed
in my exhausted lungs.
I turned back to the woman in black.
“Come it is time,” she said.
and I followed her into the immense nothingness.
only thing I have in common with bible thumpers is that I 100 percent agree that these films are heinous.(but for very different reasons.) Take beauty and the beast for example. The beast supposedly portrays the anti-christ. Xians take a literal approach. The world's most well known antagonist is called the "beast" in the final chapter of the world's most notorious book of hatred.
walt disney likely meant no correlation between his film and the "good book." I do wonder sometimes if Disney himself was affiliated with something real and truly nefarious.
Beauty kinda symbolizes the following of Christ. When the alleged apocalypse happens (hypothetically speaking of course,) the epic conflict between team jesus and team lucifer will occur. Of course in both the bible and the film, beauty prevails. sigh I hate happy endings.. and I especially hate it when they burst into sappy disney style tunes or boring hymns.
so anyone here team jesus? team lucifer? mostly don't give a fuck.. but interesting allegory