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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/15/2009 7:04:56 PM | Stoppin’ to wonder, several times lately:
Where do I drop my poetry, my thoughts
when they don’t fit into any thread
yet I be needin’ to be gettin’ it outta my head
and onto to the electronic print of the ‘net.
I ain’t got no blog, no personal web site.
Don’t wanna maintain one, no how.
So where can a gal who’s got somethin’ to express
always know she can jest
let down ‘er hair
put those feet with the scruffy slippers
on up there
take a sip o’ whatever happens t’ be around
and make her electronic sound?
So, I figured I’d make myself a niche here.
THEREFORE:
If you wanna find me ‘round these here parts,
this is a central locale I plan to visit
from time to time
and leave a verse or rhyme
or whatever.
Might be a duplicate of what I post elsewhere,
might not.
I don’t plan to be consistent here.
Just like Grizz on his thread, I jest gotta be me.
And here’s the place I plan on doin’ it.
Welcome to my Den. 
 (I only growl when necessary)
(this content © BearWoman™) | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/15/2009 7:06:49 PM | Posted earlier today on my Recipes for Life thread...
Sometimes I find,
caught up in my suffering,
not wanting to impose it on others,
I end up isolating myself more
than I already am.
Sometimes it helps to reach out to others,
to assist, support in their lives.
Other times that simply overwhelms me
even more than I already am.
That's when I need help.
Then it helps me to remember:
"If you don't ask, you don't get."
So I asked a (new) friend for support
and encouragement.
And guess what I got?
:heartyou: :hug: :kiss:
(this content © BearWoman™) | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/15/2009 7:14:40 PM | Other places you’re likely to find me:
THEMATIC SERIES:
Creative Writing/Fantasy (relationship)
My Dear Lieutenant http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts12096131.aspx
Creative Writing/Fantasy (sexually oriented)
Fantasy Lover http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11414547.aspx
Words of Wisdom (like "Chicken Soup for the Soul"), includes contributions by others, therefore it is really a "Stone Soup":
Recipes for Making it Through Life At Least Somewhat Although Perhaps Not Entirely Intact
http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11768391.aspx
Creative Writing/Interactive Story Creation
Add to this story: The Mystery Box http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11352415.aspx
I’ve also added some segments to:
Drama unfolding,,, by TNT_DYNO http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts10128197.aspx
OTHER PLACES I MAY MOST OFTEN (CURRENTLY) BE FOUND:
Poetry Forums NOTE: All of these are very accepting places to express freely.
The Train Journey by TNT_DYNO http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts8464001.aspx
TNT is one dy-no-mite man! A gentle and very creatively expressive soul who keeps the boarding steps dusted, the chrome polished, and the comfort of this pleasant place a safe place for free creative expression.
reflection of past year into the future... by *~rose~* http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11479728.aspx
and
~lost in thought or flight of fancy~ by *~rose~* http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11089340.aspx
Rose is very kind, accepting, and supportive. She has lots of life wisdom to share, although her humility keeps her from imposing it on others. Hers are nice places to rest your head with free verse or just stream of consciousness thought.
Pull up a chair by Druid59 http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11568538.aspx
Playful stuff often seems to happen here.
I can be by grizzerman http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts10073779.aspx
MANDRAKES house by the fire...for all to share http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts7208075.aspx
Manny is one of the sweetest guys around. Everybody seems to love him.
tea leaves and prophecies by walstib69 http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11676811.aspx
Wals has a flavor all his own.
I don't care what you write...... by ash.i.am http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts9476918.aspx
INTERACTIVE POETRY PLAY (All of these are friendly places to play.)
Cinquain on the Membrane http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts11364703.aspx
Haiku Game - Continuance From Previous Thread http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts10902584.aspx
First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts8047794.aspx | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/17/2009 5:09:11 PM | Okay, so if you come here to read, why should you only get the dreggs? Here is a limerick I have not yet posted elsewhere on POF:
"Dungeon"
When slave to a Mistress of play
Be careful to watch what you say;
If too much you leer
She’ll make you pay dear:
Alone in her dungeon you’ll lay
(this content © BearWoman™) | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/17/2009 5:12:57 PM | While I'm at it, how about a couple of others:
"Sally and Sam"
When Sally had lost her new lipstick
Sam offered his magical dipstick
Behavior soph’moric
His grin was euphoric;
She fell for his fanciful lip schtick
"Seeking a Stud"
When seeking a stud for to guide her
She found him soon slipping inside her
But cowgirl it seems has
Fulfilled all her dreams as
He now finds her always his rider
(this content © BearWoman™) | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/24/2009 9:09:18 PM | Pity the Fool
© BearWoman™
Pity the fool, pity not me;
I have a great philosophy
that holds me in good stead.
It lets me soar, enjoying more
than pain and gore, distressing war
that keeps me in my bed.
  
It’s not half bad, the life I’ve had,
though many times of feeling sad
provoked my inner vision.
How does it go? I’ll have you know
that times like these are wont to blow
my skills of fine precision.
They leave me twisting in the wind,
alone among my kith and kin,
in moments of collision.
The cells divide, or was that my
mental capacity?
My errors in expression vie
with my veracity.
Some soldiers in the war I live
do feel resistance to forgive
when met with cold derision.
At times engaged, one wants assuaged
the war of blame upon us waged
that leads to our division.
Increasing strife, they wield the knives
that carve within our sallow lives
devastating incisions.
Attacks by those that lead us to
defensiveness--we wish we knew
a porcupine provision.(1)
Ignorance of bliss denied us,
they are hoping to divide us:
our power meets recision.
For many years of suffering,
embattled, lacking buffering,
the past I might revision.
Much better care, compassion there,
no need to hide out in one’s lair:
such changes I envision.
Not lives truncated,
not hopes rebated,
no harsh judicial decisions.
No loss of loves,
no need of gloves,(2)
no lives of circumcision.
Not life surrealistic,
not simply a statistic
not even seen on television.
My approach is quite heuristic,
though some might say simplistic:
I look at things holistic;
express myself artistic,
avoid going ballistic
and/or antagonistic,
remaining optimistic,
avoiding voyeuristic
envy of others’ lives.
But let us be realistic.
I am not narcissistic.
I simply find the loss of mind,
the breaking of the ties that bind
me to this life distressing.
So let me make the choice I take
while choice I’m still possessing.
If quality exceeds my grasp,
allow me, please, to have my asp,
deliverance forthcoming.
Else inhumane your judgment maims
and leaves me in my suffering.
Death’s transition’s not unkind—
soul returns to God’s love mind;
transcendance is forthcoming.
For all of life is just a dress
rehearsal at its very best
for soul’s growth to emerge.
This shell of flesh I cast aside
when Spirit ‘comes my final guide:
I am; I am becoming.
If all else fails (the means I search
to keep my feet upon my perch)--
that is my last decision.
NOTES:
Ah, living with multiple chemical sensitivities can be so fun at times!
All hail RhymeZone.com when the brains ain’t workin’ so well as might be desired! *grin*
(1) porcupine provision: a measure undertaken by [a corporation] to discourage unwanted takeover attempts.
(2) "no need of gloves" Many people living with Multiple Chemical Sensitivities require physical barriers between themselves (hands, lungs) to minimize exposures to substances which penetrate the body’s semi-permeable membranes and trigger symptoms (and possible bodily damage).
"No decent human being would allow an animal to suffer without putting it out of its misery. It is only to human beings that human beings are so cruel as to allow them to live on in pain, in hopelessness, in living death, without moving a muscle to help them. It is against such attitudes that this book fights."
~ Isaac Asimov , on Final Exit: The Practicalities of Self-Deliverance and Assisted Suicide for the Dying by Derek Humphrey . | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/24/2009 9:13:23 PM | Reference links for above post:
http://www.rhymezone.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isaac_Asimov
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Final_Exit
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derek_Humphry | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/26/2009 3:45:26 PM | "On What Do I Sup?"
© BearWoman™
What is the substrate of my life,
that fills me so deeply with longing
for the life that used to be,
that I wish for it all to be gone?
What are the lignins and the pulp,
grains crossed this way and that,
which formed the basis
of what I live with today?
The paper: ah, the paper can be reformed.
Reshaped to some degree at least.
But the ink--
The ink that was printed on those pages,
those pages from which I supped,
the ink of past experiences
cannot be reshaped.
That poison penetrated my veins,
and I found myself flayed open.
Compromised.
Confused.
So why is it I choose to return
over and over again
to that same painful feast?
Perhaps I find some comfort in knowing
that at least some of my pains
are predictable.
NOTE: This poem was written in response to the quote "it's almost a lifestyle to drink the ink out of pain filled papers", taken from "Circles Flow" by memoriescankill. | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/26/2009 5:19:24 PM | So glad you have a home Miss Bear! 
I will come by to read you often!
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/27/2009 10:43:08 AM | Hi, BK! Glad to see you here.
I hadn't planned on creating a home for myself
(it felt premature, poetically speaking),
but I needed it just for ME!
So I did it. 
Lol! Love ya, gal. Keep up the writin'. | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/27/2009 10:51:39 AM | "Rant/Vent #1 Irrevocable?"
© BearWoman™
Okay, so, follow the leader.
I'm just gonna do as the Bird does.
I'm just gonna write the lines
as they come out.
Scream and shout,
if I need to,
or not.
All I got's
what's inside me
that wants to come screeeeeeaming out
come
t
-u
--m
---b
----l
----i
-----n
------g
------------------------------->>>> out!
Damn, it's good to just write freely.
Just crap it all out on the page,
as if I had no viewers,
no audience to please,
not even
myself.
yes.
That most
harshest
critic of all. (who shall choose to ignore that phrasing. if possible. maybe.)
I'm not even gonna be sure I put all the right categories
in the "Categories" list,
to be sure I can compile them all later.
Blech!
Okay, now I'm getting self conscious,
since maybe someone will actually read this
after all.
Will I fall?
Will it make me stop writing out the crap?
But I need to say things where I know my voice will be heard!
And this site is better than those other sites,
'cause over there what I post can't be un-posted.
At least on ***** I can delete this whenever I want to.
Thank God/dess!
Once the embarassment quotient gets too high
time to say "b'bye"
to all those embarassing,
tumbled out
words.
feelings.
maybe just words about feelings?
{cause, see now I'm feeling shy}
I don't want to admit anything now
about if what I'm writing is real.
{maybe part of why I like to post elsewhere
is because of the irrevocability of it.
If I am brave enough to hit "Post,"
for that moment,
just for that moment,
I am
....................f
...............r
.......................................e
.........................................................e!
irrevocably. | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 4/29/2009 9:26:34 PM | "Rant/Vent #2 No Pain, No Gain"
© BearWoman™
k, (I think that's text-speak for "okay")
today was one of them there "not so fun"
pain days. So I
broke out the big guns.
Nice to have some time when I literally
feel no pain.
At least there weren't enuff to notice.
I actually got some housework done.
Just 'cause I felt like it.
It felt good.
Now that the next dose
is starting to kick in,
I'll be gettin' off the net soon,
to go do some more.
I'm sure I'll pay for it tomorrow,
and the next day,
and the next.
Yet if I can,
I'm gonna do it again tomorrow.
I mean, eff this sh!t.
Sometimes ya just gotta do it.
Who the f*ck thought a former,
almost-competition bodybuilder
(yeah, almost competed,
but my standards were too high
and I wasn't gonna mess with my metabolism
so much that I would stop menstruating.
I did almost enter the local competition
that led to "Miss America," but it turned out
they only wanted plausible virgins.)
would end up with a new version of the slogan,
"no pain, no gain."
Now it's more like, "no gain without pain."
F*ck. | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/3/2009 2:38:27 PM | "Knowing"
© BearWoman™
I will tell you again,
and maybe this time you will hear—
it is only through my death
that i live.
Knowing…
the blessed arms of my creator are waiting,
ready to welcome me home;
I am already home;
I never left.
It is only confusion and fear
that hold awareness at bay.
Knowing that:
at any time of my choosing
I can make the transition to
the next phase
of this eternal journey.
I will know when it is time.
Where was the courage I thought I had lost?
Buried, under decades of
the need to play it safe:
to guard against dangers,
to husband my strength,
to subdue the hopes
that wanted free reign.
Where did that brave young thing go,
who bared her breasts to the nation?
Buried, under the oppressive ashes
of her former life.
Under relentless disbelief,
disenfranchisement,
marginalization;
simple, busy lack of compassion;
invisibility.
I am free now. | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/13/2009 9:34:17 PM | "The Shawshank Redemption: My Personal Escape Hatch"
© BearWoman™
Personal (Open) Journal
Wednesday, 2009 May 13
I watched the movie, The Shawshank Redemption, again last night (an excellent movie, by the way). In it, the main character (Andy Dufresne, played by Tim Robbins) is accused, convicted, and sentenced to life imprisonment for a crime he did not commit (the pre-meditated murder of his wife and her lover). Dealt this unearned blow that completely changes his life, Andy finds creative ways to cope with his new life circumstances.
Similar to those ways, my life is like that of this fictional character’s: honestly defending oneself throughout a period of major life disruption during which one’s life path is completely changed by events, being "sentenced" to a life term because of it, and spending the better part of two decades creatively coping with the changed circumstances (which include severe restrictions on personal freedom of movement and choice).
The convicts each find ways to keep their minds and souls (when possible) engaged, in order to prevent themselves from going stir crazy during their long decades of confinement. Andy, a rock hound, obtains through the prison system’s black market a rock hammer (a small, hand-held tool that looks like a miniature pick axe). With it he carves himself figurines from rocks found out in the exercise yard. Over time he obtains pieces of onyx and alabaster (I’m not sure if I got the names of the stones correct), carving himself a set of chess pieces. He is also secretly carving himself an escape hatch.
Experiencing repeated violent rapes by other inmates (he violently resists each time) and other indignities, Andy nonetheless continues to find reasons to stay in his personal prison. It is only after a particularly brutal treatment by the warden and his subordinates that Andy decides he’s had enough. In the case of the movie, a "newbie" whom Andy has taken under his wing recants a story that identifies the true murderer of Andy’s wife and lover. In an emotional state, Andy brings this information to the warden in hopes of eventually being vindicated and released.
Consistent with his illegal financial activities—for which Andy is the money-laundering accountant—the warden chooses to defend his own turf. This results in Andy’s solitary confinement for a month, during which the newbie is murdered by the warden and one of the prison guards. Given this news by the warden himself, Andy defiantly informs the warden that all of his help stops now. The warden responds by telling Andy all of the ways he will make his time "hard time," by methodically stripping away and crushing every thing in Andy’s life that he cares for, everything he has built that makes his life worth continuing to live. Then gives him a second month in solitary to let him "think it over."
Andy comes out of this experience a changed man. His friends speculate whether or not he will attempt suicide. When it comes to light that one of them has given Andy the six feet of rope he requested earlier that day, his best friend Red (played by Morgan Freeman) spends a long night wondering what the morning will bring.
Out in the exercise yard earlier that day, Andy repeated to Red a key thought presented by the movie, "You’d better get busy living, or get busy dying." That’s the truth, isn’t it? We seem to spend so much of our lives afraid to live, to really get deep down into the dirt of it and live. At least I have. Marking time. Biding time. Playing it safe. Managing life for the long term. When will people, individually, stand up and say, "No more. Enough. It ends here."?
I do not know what the breaking point for me will be, if it ever comes. I want to reassure all the people who care about me and about whom I care of that. My breaking point may never arrive. I may not ever choose to make good my escape from my personal prison. What has become necessary, however, is to have carved my exit tunnel, developed the necessary plans, and set in place the required details in order to accomplish my endeavor, if it does become necessary.
I want my own escape hatch. And I have it. Now let’s hope I continue to find ways and means to make living in my personal hell hole worth it. I haven’t failed yet. :-) | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/14/2009 12:32:58 PM | ANNOUNCING
A POF new thread: Adventures of an Online Slut
http://forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts12347502.aspx
"Adventures of an Online Slut" (a series)
© BearWoman™
PROFILE
Nikki-Savage: Selective Slut Seeks Similar
I am a Woman seeking a Man for Other Relationship.
Marital Status: Available
...
About Me:
Looking for a few good men who know how to please a woman and like to be pleased in return...
First Date:
...
Oh, yes. Must I say it? Safer sex is essential, although in virtual play anything is possible…
Stay tuned. Nikki is looking for women as well. And couples, perhaps? The possibilities are almost endless. Nikki has a brother who is looking as well. Also bisexual. I think the world is about to be shocked. Interviewing has commenced…
~ GO THERE TO FIND OUT MORE ~ | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/16/2009 1:47:37 PM | "Today is one of the harder days"
© BearWoman™
Today is one of the harder days.
I went into town yesterday,
to get a few things done.
Picked up some shelves to help
organize the shed.
At least make things accessible,
if not actually organized. :P
Today:
Today the brains are swimming.
Today the chest pain is worse,
and it took me an hour to get up the umpfh
to prepare something for breakfast,
so I could have something more
than just a glass of milk
to down my analgesics.
Laying on the bed, talking on the phone
with one of my closest friends.
I could feel the pain killers--
Thank God/dess!--
beginning to kick in.
But the angina kept getting worse
because I was crying.
Sitting up, here at the computer screen,
it is worse yet. But I am willing to pay for this.
I still have a voice, and I still want to use it.
I wrote a sonnet yesterday, in a form that was new to me.
I thought I did a decent job,
but I was unable to tell what kind of quality it had.
My "self checker" was not available at that level of functioning.
I asked a couple of poet friends to review it for me.
I got back some pretty nice compliments.
I trust these people's opinions,
and that they wouldn't bs me
just because I'm feeling sick.
:-)
So, who cares if get anything else done
in this lifetime?
This past week, I've been wanting to make sure
all my health care representatives know
I'm not doing so well.
I want to make sure the executors of my estate know
I'm not doing so well.
I want to make sure all those closest to me know
I'm not doing so well.
I want to make sure
my self-deliverance supplies are up to date.
Just in case I become too incapacitated
to go get more.
I can't let anyone else get them for me,
or they might be accused of "assisting suicide."
I'd hate for a friend to go to jail
just for doing some shopping for me.
:-( | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/16/2009 1:50:12 PM | Here's that sonnet I mentioned:
"The Kiss of Death"
© BearWoman™
Oh, dark-winged guide, tonight I heard your siren song
in answer to my plight that has gone on too long.
You offered me the breaking of the chains that bind,
while waiting for the fruit to ripen on my tree
before you’ll share the kiss that will deliver me.
You hold back the final rapture within your arms
which carries me beyond the grasp of all that harms—
beyond the challenges of circumstance so blind,
into the flowering of Light I have become.
Oh, Darkness, dance with me; return me to the One.
Please be the asp that bites upon my longing breast
Oh, Darkness, come; join me as I return to grace
and turn away from pain I can no longer face.
Enfold me in your arms; let me forget the rest.
(A Rosarian Sonnet. Rhyme scheme aabcc, ddbee, fggf (or fgfg). Two quintains that set up the situation, plus one quatrain that is the closure or counter statement. I am using iambic hexameter. Intentional variations from meter used in Lines 6, 12, 14.) | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/22/2009 12:50:32 AM | "Suffering, On My Way Out"
© 2009 Misha BearWoman Metzler
I keep waking…
hurting…
suffering.
Realizing…
I need to focus my diminishing efforts
in places already established,
in building my final legacies,
in enjoying the many abundant
loving relationships
already in place.
Sorrowing…
that this needs to be so.
Recognizing…
my Superwoman Overachiever Syndrome (SOS)
has often meant my grasp
exceeded my ambitious reach.
And yet: how very many brass rings
I have garnered along my merry way!
There is only so much
Beethoven and Jack Daniels
can do for me.
I must turn now to my hearthstones,
well warmed from a life well lived.
I will bask in their heat, radiating back to me
from the collected warmth of my investments.
Human Gold.
Not yet my final ride, I am nonetheless
boarding the ferry that will take me
to my next, and final ride.
I begin now the last leg of my journey here.
Unless there are other plans for me in the works,
it appears my path is set.
It is time to begin my final good byes,
and to spread my last offerings out
upon the waters of humanity’s soul.
Namaste’, all.
It is time.
2009 May 21 | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/25/2009 10:58:07 PM | "Not That Kind of Slut"
© 2009 BearWoman™
Cannot people see?
I am not that kind of slut.
Sex is connection.
Sex is sharing.
Sex is the drawing of my awareness
to focus on the present.
Sex is sacred.
Sex is a natural part of life.
Sex is not bad.
Sex simply is.
Just like every other part of life.
There is already so much
other people don’t see.
Why should this be any different?
2009 May 25 | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/26/2009 5:11:13 PM | bearwoman ..... consider reading anne michaels, a canadian poet who just published her lyrical second novel, "the winter vault," ten years after her first, lyrical ..... and acclaimed novel ..... "fugitive pieces." here is the one page prequel to "the winter vault" arranged by me as a poem:
"perhaps we painted
on our own skin,
with ochre and charcoal,
long before we painted on stone.
in any case, forty thousand years ago,
we left painted handprints
on the cave walls
of lascaux, ardennes, chauvet.
the black pigment
used to paint the handprints
at lascaux, ardennes and chauvet
was made of manganese dioxide
and ground quartz,
and almost half the mixture
was calcium phosphate.
calcium phosphate
is produced by heating bone
four hundred degrees celsius,
then grinding it.
we made our paints
from the bones of the animals
that we painted.
no image forgets its origin.
the future
casts its shadow
on the past.
in this way,
first gestures
contain everything;
they are a kind of map .....
the first days
of military occupation,
the conception of a child,
seeds and soil.
grief is desire
in its purest distillation.
with the first grave .....
the first time
a name was sown in the earth .....
the invention of memory.
no word forgets this origin." | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/26/2009 10:37:43 PM | 'grief is desire'
If grief is desire, and desire is the 'only credit' in this world, then you are correct.
So what is grief?
C.S. Lewis observed grief and wrote about it.
Certainly there is desire during grief, but it is a different form of longing, one which cannot be fulfilled in the 'usual time and way' since there is the thought or contemplation of joining the other, or finding another. It cannot be fulfilled except in a very strange way....
chaocito | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 5/27/2009 11:27:52 AM | Thanks, lipo. I remember some of this quote from elsewhere, particularly
first gestures
contain everything;
they are a kind of map ..... | |
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| Meanderings in My Mind
Posted: 7/3/2009 5:50:25 PM | “Death is not the worst thing to fear, my dear.”
© BearWoman™
Slowly claws sink deeply;
vibrant moisture wells.
My tongue languidly traces your curves.
Short, rapid breaths fill my hearing
as I approach their source.
The fragrant tang of fear fills my lungs,
as your lip begins to part
beneath my bite.
The bright blade seems almost superfluous.
Succulent liquid traceries spring forth upon your form
while streams of amber liquid begin to gather
about your trembling
ankles.
Your body’s rhythms increase; inexorably mine follow.
I must expose that pulsing force of life
which tries to hide
within.
Soft coverings part, exposing more and more
of your inner essence to my
hungry gaze.
I drink deeply of your liquids, greedily lapping
at the honeydew sheen of your
exertions.
Oozings become rivulets. Almost detectable, those
throbbing drumbeats that fill my
awareness.
I must pierce deeper.
As I go there, your eyes flick to the One.
Utter no words while you cry out,
and dampen even those;
else my attentions will stray to that Other,
while you are made to watch.
You still retain your bowels.
Good. Your resistance is strong.
This means I will not have a mere song;
it’s a symphony we’ll create.
In each movement of that dance I will exalt.
Though together we’ll create it,
I will be sole director.
I see I became too ambitious today.
Crystal beads drip from between your squeezed lids
as thread and needle stitch the deeper of your wounds.
Lids flutter open when a rustle is heard.
A different kind of pain lights your eyes
as I guide the Other, in trepid anticipation,
from the room.
A door shuts off your gaze from your worries,
while a crowbar remains behind—
a reminder of lessons to come;
an irremovable foot
in the doorway of your mind
which you will never be able to shut again.
2009 July 3 | |
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