Bantering with Octagons

[cymbidia]

Unexpected leavetakings imbue the shivery air with uncertainties and frail bits of fear.
Howso, though?

Why do we sink into a soupcon of sourness when the entirety of bluegold light remains outside the window of our thoughts?

Open the shutters!
Open the eyes!
Open the heart!
Arise!
Smile!
You're on candid camera.

 

[Jim_Henson]

Smile and camera dont belong in the same distance
Camera and I dont belong in the same world.

Amzing how things work out, if dreams were wishes and wishes were fishes, I'd still be eating goat.

Singing in spanish is nice but french is still better, especially in front of a painting by a french artist...

 

[sigh]

painting a french woman
as she stands naked and giggling,
her breasts already a swirl of fushcia
and cornflower blue

reach for her hairs
her private hairs that crinkle to the touch
and with your fingers
paint her there
a bright orange, perhaps
or the green of a deep forest in evening
with slanted yellow rays of waning sunshine
streaking across her thighs

if your mood is more somber,
paint her the deep purple of an emperor
or black as a moonless night
with glitters of silver starshine


flavor the paint
and cleaning up will be ever so fun

 

[rubymyst]

the essence of being nude

is

the freedom to be oneself
the sharing of one's soul Without all the masks...
the seeing of another Without sexual thoughts...
experiencing oneself Without any fears...
an understanding without spoken word...
the acceptance of yourself without any guilt.

to be..

 

[Black_Bird]

Freedom from one's self
shreading masking tape that binds
pain and pleasure beyond the initial experience
understanding without knowing
and wisdom without age.

Have you fucked a door nob today?

 

[cymbidia]

Nob kabobs sizzle on a frying pan of embers glaring sullenly into the night. Up above the stars pant out their lives in hues beyond our visible spectrum. Glory. Glory. Glory. 'Tis a wonder to be alive.

 

[rubymyst]

a spectrum of words on a platter
love
fortitude
peace
harmony
friendship
committment
passion

Take your pick. its just 2 pence a word or exchange it with one that you dont use anymore.

 

[cymbidia]

Emotional spectrums reside tightly, seedlike slipping silently into the interstitial spaces between our daily knowledge and our fervent unconscious. Choose wisely, grasshopper, choose well. You can back up and redo some stuff but you can't really undo a wrong. Sullenly, hurts last.

 

[rubymyst]

words

hurt
feel the fish hook in your throat
struggle
thrash about
scream in pain and anguish

make it a silent scream

 

[sigh]

feel the fish hook in your throat
the tearing of flesh in a struggle of
blood and hopelessness
where an unbreakable line drags you in
to a world awash in the poison of air

fish flops in the bottom of the boat
and a little girl cries out gleefully
look daddy, i caught a fish!
and daddy smiles
and carefully removes the hook
and sets the tiny, sparkling, pumpkin-seed speckled fish free
while the little girl (me) looks over the side
to watch it disappear in a flash
and a swirl
of clear, cool water


images of stark contrast
from a single event
from such is born
the conflicts of life

 

[cymbidia]

the zen blink of a single eye shutters with unconscious grace, if such can be applied to eyes and blinking, if such can be applied to zen and trances. Dance, O Lovely One! Each zen moment is an entirety of its own, on its own, within itself. Each small silent gloriously complete blink sends shock waves of disjoint affect through the cosmos. Dance! The gods would have it so...

 

[rubymyst]

in a trance

The dervishes begin to sway
rhythmically and chant the name of Rumi

A violin and zither in perfect concert with the solo voice
soaring into the moonlit nite
listern to the reed
full of heartbreaking longing...
like hands raise just to surrender.

Rudalis take off their black cloaks
spinning with incredible lightness and grace
angelic whirling
a perfect counterpoint to the earthy chanting.
disorienting feeling defying gravity.

 

[freescorfr]

A single blink, the solo "alleluiah!"
Part the seas and worship golden calfs,
Wander pastures, downy green
Drink burning desert sand
And milk the wingless dove.
Seduce me with your words
My nightmare is a pleasant dream.
One piece of news makes all the difference.

 

[GreenEyedGirl]

Downy green grass cradels my head and tickles my ear as the dew seeps into my clothes. Autumn is coming, and I feel the urge to leave my nest again. But I always migrate north, into the cold, not away from it. And I waalways bring a sweater or two, just in case.

 

[cymbidia]

Autum is coming.
A time of beginnings.
A time of new clothing and a new year and new ideas.
A time of new challenges and new opportunities.
A time of expectation.
I love Autumn.

 

[Black_Bird]

grey skies and flickering light
shadows and screaming on a wet cold night
symbols and scrawling upon the wall
rain falling down, the raven's call

 

[rubymyst]

raven
sitting lonely
spoke only
That one word
as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
not a feather then he fluttered
I muttered
"other friends have flown before
Te Raven still is sitting
just above my chamber door
And his eyes have all the seeming
of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight over him
streaming throws his shadow on the floor

 

[freescorfr]

Ravens are unattractive to lovers:
They leave no footprints in the sand.
In the deserts of my imagination,
Our words here
Imprint.

The sand-flowers are too thin to trample.

Let us drink and drink the voices in the well.

 

[GreenEyedGirl]

Can words truly imprint? Can they leave a mark or a welt or a caress? Do words actually have weight and heft to them?
I think they do. And I am not saying that because I am in love with words, but because words have broken my heart and mended my soul. Words have tripped the light fandango.

Why is a raven like a writing desk?
Because they are both words.

 

[tortoise]

a whisper weighs far more than a shout

 

[sigh]

whisper a song in melody sublime
as light-hearted wanderers shuffle about
looking for fun
and laughter
or maybe
a little
blood

can the wanderer search the blinking eye
or pull grains of sand from a wound
without a shudder
of revulsion
and pain?

eye lashes falling silently
as a shout dissolves on the wind
ride your convictions to the uttermost end
and have the courage to wander
and wonder

and never
never
shy away
from discovery

 

[freescorfr]

Mouths today full of foliage.
The dawns are misty and
Our cave-journeys of discovery
through summer snow-falls
Of unexpected dust.
Like livid metal thundercrakcs.

Black steam obscures the sky.

We all remember.

 

[sigh]

misty dawn glows in the mouth of our cave
as the chill morn creeps in
to overcome the last glow of evening's fire

a wolf pauses
and sniffs the air,
considers
then moves on

spear and sling are shaken against the terrors of our day
as our strongest strides forth
to challenge the sky
but the clouds there mock him
ever beyond his reach
and the sun crests the horizon once more
ere he has chance to chase it down

so back he comes
to rut with me
for i am his
while the sky will never be

 

[GreenEyedGirl]

Clouds mock us with their pirate ships, their bunny rabbits, and their dragons, each one morphing into the other.
Makes me feel solid, lying here on a hill with the dew dampening my hair and chilling my skin. Which makes me think that the
clouds offer steadiness in a world of upset and change.
Which makes me laugh.

 

[freescorfr]

Substantial in mind and solid, like Jupiter.
Freedom is the theme
Of the one, his face scarred with planets,
Green and white comet-trails of ice and fire,
Who defied extinction
In his jogging bottoms.

Ruined abbeys ringing still
With plainsong. Vespers for a good night's sleep:
Interrupted only by compline and matins and babies crying,
Conceived in monastic cells, with monastic cells
And Ova, ova and ova again.