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Bistro Bijou

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UnderYourSpell said:
Omgggggggg scrolled onward and sprayed coffe over keyboard at hairy backside (and more!) ...... Bijou am totally and utterly shocked at places you frequent I think I just found the place me mother warned me about
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A Fu Fu.

That thread is absolutely priceless. Honestly. Amazing photos abound there, carefully selected by your host, Shanks.
 
Between you and me I have saved it to favs so I can have a look later but shhhhhhhh don't tell anyone !!
 
Oh oh pretty Pammy polish
up my pizzle please
wax wild willie wonderful
with a perfect pussy proud
and smooth, slippery slit.
 
UnderYourSpell said:
Omgggggggg scrolled onward and sprayed coffe over keyboard at hairy backside (and more!) ...... Bijou am totally and utterly shocked at places you frequent I think I just found the place me mother warned me about
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yes - I stopped shaving my backside years ago, and you are welcome to visit any time you wish (use the link in my sig if you want)

and never never need to tell a person you were then if you wish to keep your kinks hidden ;)



:kiss:
 
Shankara20 said:
yes - I stopped shaving my backside years ago, and you are welcome to visit any time you wish (use the link in my sig if you want)

and never never need to tell a person you were then if you wish to keep your kinks hidden ;)



:kiss:
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methinks you would be astounded at the kinks I keep hidden!

Voluptuous pizzle of the imagination
thick and veinéd
resolute and standing proud,
till my womb entreats conception
by thy thrusting manly seed
 
UnderYourSpell said:
methinks you would be astounded at the kinks I keep hidden!

Voluptuous pizzle of the imagination
thick and veinéd
resolute and standing proud,
till my womb entreats conception
by thy thrusting manly seed
Click to expand...

Astounded, seldom am I.

And I spilled my seed not so long ago :eek:
it has to do with contents of the lovely package I received yesterday :eek:
and the sender of that very same package :heart:



:kiss:
 
All night the owls competed in the yard, and this morning I woke to a pair of wrens building a nest in the windowsill right next to the bed. The day threatens rain. Driving to work this morning I saw a pillar of smoke in the distance. I've learned to recognize "good" and "bad" smoke living here; in the spring, the fields are burned, and narrow pillars of smoke stain the horizon in various directions. But it's a good color, a light grey-brown that is the smoke of the dry tallgrass and cornstalks and thistles burning along short snaked lines, leaving mottled black fields and charred shoulders along the roads.

The smoke of a house burning is different. It's black with possessions, a darker mixed color that says that what is burning is someone's life, made of melting plastic, curling black drywall, curtains and clothing, a life being eaten. Those distant smoky columns make me say prayers, knowing quite directly how a fire can eat you alive and change everything forever.

Today's smoke was clean. It's the right time of year. I know there are guys riding four-wheelers along the line, watching it burn. I know that within only days the emerald green will begin to appear through the short layer of ash, and that in a week the evidence of a burn will have disappeared entirely.

That fire has no victims. Animals in burrows are safe, and the fire passes in moments, leaving old seeds charred and toasty. Birds descend to pick out the weed seeds and crackling insects flushed out by flame. New grass elbows its way up almost overnight, fed by the nutrients of ash. And a field burned in the spring will not burn later, when the grass is too tall and dry to control.

The Israelites saw it too - the Good Smoke, the pillar of smoke by day, the fire by night, the one that led them through the desert. I pray anyway, not for the victims, but for my own good smoke, the one that leads me to my personal land of milk and honey.

Happy Spring, wherever you may be in that emerging cycle.

bj
 
Unscheduled Leg Humping


Here's what I really love about WildSweetOne today. She is exemplary in looking constantly for new sources of inspiration, and able to do that Wallace Stevens thing of finding real, beautiful poetry in single objects, in innovative sources, in the random and the unexpected. She truly inspires me to keep looking around me for new things to write about, for old things that I haven't addressed in a while, for the seemingly non-poetic from which I might wrestle a new idea.

we just adore her!
 
unpredictablebijou said:
All night the owls competed in the yard, and this morning I woke to a pair of wrens building a nest in the windowsill right next to the bed. The day threatens rain. Driving to work this morning I saw a pillar of smoke in the distance. I've learned to recognize "good" and "bad" smoke living here; in the spring, the fields are burned, and narrow pillars of smoke stain the horizon in various directions. But it's a good color, a light grey-brown that is the smoke of the dry tallgrass and cornstalks and thistles burning along short snaked lines, leaving mottled black fields and charred shoulders along the roads.

The smoke of a house burning is different. It's black with possessions, a darker mixed color that says that what is burning is someone's life, made of melting plastic, curling black drywall, curtains and clothing, a life being eaten. Those distant smoky columns make me say prayers, knowing quite directly how a fire can eat you alive and change everything forever.

Today's smoke was clean. It's the right time of year. I know there are guys riding four-wheelers along the line, watching it burn. I know that within only days the emerald green will begin to appear through the short layer of ash, and that in a week the evidence of a burn will have disappeared entirely.

That fire has no victims. Animals in burrows are safe, and the fire passes in moments, leaving old seeds charred and toasty. Birds descend to pick out the weed seeds and crackling insects flushed out by flame. New grass elbows its way up almost overnight, fed by the nutrients of ash. And a field burned in the spring will not burn later, when the grass is too tall and dry to control.

The Israelites saw it too - the Good Smoke, the pillar of smoke by day, the fire by night, the one that led them through the desert. I pray anyway, not for the victims, but for my own good smoke, the one that leads me to my personal land of milk and honey.

Happy Spring, wherever you may be in that emerging cycle.

bj
Click to expand...

A great prose poem this! All very true too.
 
Eluard said:
A great prose poem this! All very true too.
Click to expand...

concerning bijous post that you commented on, you are spot on! Would make a fabulous prose poem, with some rearranging. I love owls, and bj is very observant. I would love to read it again, if she chooses to rearrange it into a more basic prose-like work. It really should be submitted, somewhere ;)


good reading--
NJ
 
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Eluard said:
A great prose poem this! All very true too.
Click to expand...

normal jean said:
concerning bijous post that you commented on, you are spot on! Would make a fabulous prose poem, with some rearranging. I love owls, and bj is very observant. I would love to read it again, if she chooses to rearrange it into a more basic prose-like work. It really should be submitted, somewhere ;)


good reading--
NJ
Click to expand...

thanks, both of you. Just one of my little morning noodles, really. I've always been as much an essayist as a 'poet.'

NJ, I don't know if you saw it, but back a page or so I put in some neato links to the calls of the barred and the great horned owls. Those are the two that are most common around here.

We have screech owls too... They sound really crazy.

bj
 
I've finally given myself permission to let go ...

I took my soul back today
no longer willing to wear the label
you pinned upon me long ago.
Your inadequacies never mine,
now I fly free into my life
a heady freedom
no more hills to climb stumbling
carrying your burden.
 
UYS, That's lovely, and it sure feels like you're working through some old stuff very successfully.

So I learned about this cool thing this week and I wanted to share it a) just cause it's cool and b) because it may spark some good poetry.

Here's a little article about the phenomenon called the Catatumbo Lightning. It's also referred to as the Maracaibo Beacon (both nicely poetic phrases).

In Venezuela there is a place where the cloud-to-cloud lightning is virtually constant. It's said that this spot is one of the primary regenerators of the world's ozone. The lightning is so reliable and constant that mariners once used it as a navigation point.

I think of this place and its electric heartbeat in terms of the body of Mother Earth. Her heartbeat? Her breath? A synapse of her global mind?

Here are pictures.

One

Two

Three

Mind-blowing.

Go write, lovely ones...

bj
 
Fucking amazing, those pictures. And I'd never heard of this before — now got to go find out more.
 
Eluard said:
Fucking amazing, those pictures. And I'd never heard of this before — now got to go find out more.
Click to expand...

There are many more photos that wouldn't quite link here, but if you do a google image search on Catatumbo lightning you'll find them.

Stunning, huh?

Shankara20 said:
oh my - sorry I will not be around the Bistro the next few days - will get caught up on Monday :kiss:
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I'll save you some whipped cream...

bj


eta: as I leave for the evening, into the quiet aether I offer this most lovely meditation. May it give you the good shivers, as it did for me.
 
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I have spent today in London and absolutely worn out if you ever visit I hope you don't ever have to find your way to Liverpool Street station by car when every street in the vicinity is closed!
 
UnderYourSpell said:
I have spent today in London and absolutely worn out if you ever visit I hope you don't ever have to find your way to Liverpool Street station by car when every street in the vicinity is closed!
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Why are all the streets closed? Sorry if I should know but I've been in another world cooking, looking up recipes, talking to tungtied on the phone while he drives by places in Asheville we might want to rent lol.

I'm having foodgasms. I ordered the ice cream maker attachment for my kitchenaid mixer today and I'm looking up recipes for gelato and frozen custard and italian water ice and drooling. :D
 
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