Prosetry

[arielsgoddess]

Prosetry: The storytelling poet's best friend, bred of fine stock, equal parts poem and depiction, long on the wind or wide in the build. Why? Because everyone knows I hold so many studies and moments that I am ready to burst at any given second, rendering me verbose in the word department, and my poems a bit too meaty oftentimes to be held in the same hand as their more delicate-boned counterparts. Likewise, there is something not-grammatically-anatomically correct about them being considered prose, and there's no bleeping Prose forum here, so this is where my halflings--and I hope yours, too--will nest and reproduce

The first offering I have here was a dream I had, in which I saw and met a man that I had not yet, and saw exactly several of the real-life places and elements of the city in India, where he lives, and his native Bengal culture. 'Hridoy Kotha Bole' is the Bengali way of saying 'The Heart Whispers', so here goes:

Hridoy Kotha Bole (The Heart Whispers)

Morning in Kolkata rises
The golden light more ancient than the city
Trying to hold onto past and make it modern
Remembering its name in a new dawn
As we do trying to wake and accept

I catch sight of you folded on your perch
Clutching the prayer of first coffee
You look into it but the only reflection you see
Is the sun coming to claim you and painting you yellow
Its light through the slats of crowded buildings
Form the golden bars of a cage
Your eyes stare up to the sky dreamlessly sad

Making my heart wish it could fasten itself into a key
To free you as you are my friend
I bow my head slightly with eyes downcast
And press my hands together in front of my heart
To pray for your happiness before this winter
The pinnacle of my fingertips pressed to my lips
Prevents me from rash behavior yet your cat
Comes as a messenger between us to say

The heart whispers the truth of what is
Also of what cannot be spoken or done yet

And counsels us as to dreamtime

II

In those hours you come to meet me
Wearing a tunic as pale as the moon who guided you
Here on her journey and now casts the soft glow outside
Just as the candles which lit themselves on you arrival
Are painting warm light inside of this chamber
Mixing together on our forms both fiery and cooled
As I am winged in a golden yellow saree and headscarf
Whose newborn fabrics too delicate to be proud
Tutor me in the old ways of humility

But when I try to dip my eyelashes down quickly
The tiny bells of the traditional adornments
Chime the greeting that I have suppressed
Calling you against me as swiftly as flight
As you wrap fingers gently around my arms
And as I am locked into the lines of your body
The wish that I have held in all day is set free

Trying to gather courage to look up
I know that the critical moment is perched
On whether the man that you see mirrored in my eyes
Is the one that you most want to be
Letting you slowly raise my face with your fingertips
I unwrap the darkness in my eyes to you

Then your melting against me tells me the answer
While looking into your eyes I fall into the Ganges
As the gold fabric begins to bloom around our feet
The saree on the floor is the past
While my heart is ahead of us on the bed
Dreaming of your poetry

In these sacred proceedings
There is no need for other officiating
As there is a cat in the room
Who has sagely kept itself quiet
To share with us the candles' warmth
Painting in the darkness with its tail
Nocturnally scribing away in sanskrit clawmarks
This poem to us as a reminder
On the wooden rail of the window's balcony

A yellow bird painted moonlight sits staring
Out through the lines of the bottom of that rail
The bird looks up at the cat on its perch
Having made friends quite suddenly
By quieting itself for the night it purchased
The continued share of the world of the living
As well as the wisdom of the cat
Whose calmness tells it that the rains are over
So it prepares to take flight into the darkness

The cat whispers to the bird through its whiskers

That we won't find what we want in our reflection
Even if in our reflection we find the truth

III

Yet the bird is not flying away to escape
For we keep no bars on our windows
But it is too restless for simply dreaming anymore
And it wants to unwrap the darkness
To see for itself what is inside of the cat's world
Perhaps tonight will it find the key
That will change everything as it prayed for

Before long twilight is upon tired wings
Some sleep must be had before daytime
Darkness is dissipating and cages creak
Disrupting all of the inhabitants
Work always coming too soon for pleasure-seekers
As the bird looks for somewhere suitable to rest
Although it has sacrificed dreaming again
In exchange for one night of exploring
Its heart is still singing of the flight

Stopping by a puddle left behind by the monsoons
The bird expects to see its reflection in the tiny lake
Still colored by night on the shimmering broken-glass surface
But instead there is a goddess in the halflight mirror
Of pale blue and gold wrapped in a haze
Shivering the bird folds itself so that it is closer
To the woman in the water as she whispers

Your heart is the truth of who you are
Who you are is in the heart of your dreaming

Closing its eyes with understanding
The bird turns into the key

 

[serpentwrap]

A more literal translation of 'Hridoy Kotha Bole' would be "The heart tells a tale" though "The heart whispers" is perhaps more apt here.

Arielgoddess, you'll have no clue how brilliant that poem is. Prosetry is just the right term for it. Its so close in format to some of tagore's bengali poems or Kalidas. I'm afraid, this art is vanishing rapidly.

Thank you for posting this. I relished it once and will relish it some more.

 

[butters]

I want to come back to this when I don't feel run over by a truck - it has some gorgeousness to it, some wonderful phrases that paint images inside my eyelids.

 

[arielsgoddess]

Thank you, both

serpentwrap, would you please share whatever you want to with me? The man I am friends with is Bengali, as is his mother, and he is also a brilliant poet, but in modern style (he is also a lawyer, and expected to be more 'modern'). His mother gave me the proper translation, as the phrase I was hearing in the dream was the phrase in a different dialect. Because this was insisting on being a gift to him--his office, home, bedroom and other details are all in this, he has sent me the photos which match the dream I had before meeting him, since giving him this poem--I asked for a translation in Bengali.

I have a more Hindi-modern style series I wrote with a friend called "vishnuwerehere", that I will send you if you like. If you would enjoy collaborating with me on any new works, I would be greatly honored, and have a sincere desire to learn other cultures. My rate of exchange is to send you one poem or offering for each that you send me I think creativity is the best currency there is.

Chipbutty: Hello again Thank you, and I will start adding some of the others. There have been some unusual interludes for me while I have been gone, that are all insisting on being turned into art of some form.

 

[serpentwrap]

Please do send me vishnuwerehere. Would love to go through it. Since this is a literotica site, I would love you to read Meghdoot by Kalidasa. Its orginally in sanskrit though I have a loose translation in English. Meghdoot is actually a request to teh clouds by the hero to pass messages to his lover who is stuck in some other city. As the narrator urges the clouds to visit his lover, he also entices the clouds to pass by places that is described oh-so-beautifully. The allegories, teh descriptions and the poetry is absolutely a genius, though cultural ignorance and modern mind-sets might make it sound a bit boring. I'm sending you just a few lines from Meghdoot. If it interest you, I'll send some more on PM.

I'm afraid the rhyming and metre works in Sanskrit, it requires work to achieve the same. Haven't had teh time yet, but this is for you:

Before I give you my message for my Love,
let me give you some directions on how to get to my place.

…

Soar up high and head North.
Flanked by the rainbow you will soon look like dark Krishna
with the colorful crest of a peacock feather.
Pass the young virgin brides who are glad to see you come.
Lift yourselves a little higher westward
and keep moving to the north.
When you tire, relax for a while on the top of Mount Amrakuta,
whose burning woods you will have helped soak.

With you at the crest like coiled braided black hair
on the slopes full of ripened gold mangoes,
the mountains will resemble gorgeous golden breasts with dark nipples.
Such a sight is sure to turn young couples on.
As you lighten you will pick up speed
and reach the rocky Vindhya Range.
The wind there will be too weak to hoist you.
But having rained you will be lighter and climb up anyway.

The chataka birds will follow as you travel shedding rain,
catching the heady scent of flowers and charred wood, charred in the summer fires.
You may be tempted to pause a little and
enjoy the beautiful flowers and the overjoyed dancing peacocks.
But please hurry up and move on as quickly you can.
When you reach Dashran, you will see garden hedges
white with Ketaki flowers, birds busy building their nests
and the swans that linger with you.

In the royal city of Vidisha you will be able to sip the sweet waters
of the Vetravati River that will quiver at your soft thunder.
Go ahead and rest for a while on the low peaks of Nichais.
The Kadamb flowers will be blooming and the caves will exhale
perfume of the courtesans who spend nights there entertaining their masters.
Shed your fresh water lightly
on the jasmines and the pretty girls
wearing lotus blooms in their hair who harvest them.

Don’t forget to detour a little
and check out the view of Ujjayini’s white mansions and
savor the startled glances of the beautiful women.
Along the way fill yourselves up at the Nirvindhya River,
which waits there like a woman ready to please her lover.
Make sure you help her, lovesick and thin by your prolonged absence,
regain her health.
When you reach Awanti look for Vishala, a city made in heaven.

There the cool morning breeze, fragrant from lotus blossoms on the Shipra River,
slowly awakens the sleeping beauties.
Just like their Lovers who want to make early-morning-love do.
The perfume from the girls’ long, dark hair wafting through the windows
will overwhelm you and the dancing peacocks will welcome you.
Stay overnight if you are tired and spend the night in the palace.
Where the floors are stained with the red mehendi
from the slender feet of pretty belles.

And don’t forget to visit the Chandishwar temple.
The groves nearby will be in full bloom.
Loaded in pollen and charged with the scent of the young women
bathing and frolicking in the water.
Stay until sunset and add your thunder to the Chandishwara’s evening aarati.
Catch the sidling glances of the tired dancing girls
pleased with the soothing touch
of your first rain drops on their tired and scratched feet.

Sure would love to exchange a few mails with you. My dad is a poet and novelist in Hindi. Am getting his third book published. And yes, originally I too am a bengali but not living in Bengal...

Its a fair deal what your propose.. 0

 

[arielsgoddess]

*I owe you a poem*

I have always felt a strange pull to Sanskrit, it is something that cannot be explained to someone else that does not share the same string threaded through them by a Greater hand, yes?

There are many such threads for me, with ancient cultures, especially languages....times when peoples were closer to the truths, and wove them in artistically. The truer the essence of that, the more the piece makes me feel. This, here, is beautiful, almost breathtaking. It feels like flying, the way of the bird into ancient places, as if they were all windows and could be seen so instantly. To pick and choose among the beauty both elaborate and virginally simple.

Here is my half of the vishnuwerehere series. I wrote another one with a very different fellow countryman of yours, that I call the Lion and Tiger series, and I include both halves here. I will post that, too. Both of these mens' styles are passionate and harsh. There are other pieces I have written that are more delicate. On the boards right now I have "Interlude" that is a softer poem. The gentleman in that poem is Okinawan, which is why lilies instead of lotuses. My range has not yet been limited. I will post another one of my vision-poems later tonight.

idontgivaShiva
-------------------
what other people think

whether the puddle of fabric at my feet
used to be my dress or your shirt
if I have to go buy another bed
or move to another town
perhaps even another country
just to be myself

feng shui and kama sutra
I'm good with sharp fengs
you're smooth with subtle sutras
together we make your feng sutra
sing like Bedoins in lust

I can pull your essence out of you
like a quicksilver fountain
painting the entire landscape in mercury
before speeding you
into your next incarnation

the kind of carnations
that arranged correctly
will bring you satisfaction
and the sound of laughter
echoing across lifetimes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

badabing-Badavagni
--------------------------------
I am not feeding you to the piranhas
My power unsustained by numbers Siva-kala
Go back to your game of love mancala

Protected from my flames of shakti fire
So I would not ask you join me on the pyre
The rainbow leads you not to desire

Cast your vedas upon your golden sitar
Destiny does not intend we cower or slither
Neither does my soul intend to wither

The henna blood-red into my hand it stains
The fire only burns itself brighter with my pains
My words lasting beyond my ashed remains

It is with triumph that I walk into the din
Incinerating not from lack of virtue or proof of sin
But the pure reincarnation of fire from within
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

goingbacktoKali
-----------------------
Drawing knowledge I trace lines around my eyes
And shadows heavy beneath both of my breasts
Then with bright red shakti fire to burn in power
I form the bindi of truth and the nipples of passion

To wait wrapped in darkness like the night mother
For you to come pull away the layers between us
Laying below me together we sing the incantations
That will shatter this world and begin the new one
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dontlookbeHindu
--------------------------
Self cannot be found in others' lives
To gain perspective, the way of the wise
Is learn to open the mind, shut the eyes
Leave this body behind, it is just disguise
Touch spirit to universe, feel the vibes

The past is not path only history
Futures are all destinations in mystery
War wages between chaos and symmetry
World another name for theatre of viscery
Choose carefully your role persistorly

Death is just one of many coordinates
Charting the journey to nirvana inordinate
We cannot master the map or disorder it
Whether originals or reincarnates for all of it
We are the novitiates, cosmic subordinates
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yogamegoin'
-------------------
Lover I want to lay you out ritually
On the plane of passionate existence
And trace upon you mandalas of lust

As my tongue dives into your chakras
Turning the wheels like intimate cogs
That interlock with mine and drive me

Into incantations and dripping lotus
As your loins summon mine across ages
Take me into timeless transcendence

As your eyes slide into other dimensions
And your flesh surpasses through mine
Until we are but one existence shattered

Enlightenment the release into ecstacy
A world worn away by our rhythmic tantras
Bathes in the afterglow of our orgasmic zen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thangka-you
-------------------
Rising steeple of your yin temple
Calling me to worship in another land
Landmark of my worldly existence

Lead me to the path of enlightenment
Close off the world and bring me into openness
Make with me the channel of all chi

When all is without and you are within
When we are neither students nor masters
But wild locusts flying across the field

Universe expanding in the same moment
As being drawn through the eye of a needle
Exploding in brilliance on the other side

Until there are too many sides and moments
Looping together lifetimes translating into infinity
Power of togetherness soulmates reunited
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vishnuwerentsoblue
---------------------------------
You darken like skies wishing for a storm
God of water and cloud do not drown the world
Just to keep others from seeing your tears

I will be your Mahakali, your Night Mother
Wrapping you in a blanket of soft darkness
As velvet as my breasts for you to nestle in

I will lay out for you the constellations
To show you what you need to know
That no darkness should be without light

I will carry you inside of me protectively
Until you are ready to seek your journey
Then my nipples will be your twin North stars

Helping you to navigate into new destinies
Where I will continue to nurture you as we
Walk together into the pale light of morning

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lion & Tiger Series

[Frenzy] by Serathi

Like lions we tumble with
your fingers like claws
clutching at my back and
my growl in your ears

I can hear your heart sing
like a pounding drum as
we thrash at war
furious and proud

It comes suddenly
the breathless vise upon my flesh
the lilting cries
the silence as we both collapse
***************************

Challenge (My Response)

I am tiger to your lion
Moon pale with blue eyes
Stripes forming exclamation marks
As I bound into you

Eyes flashing wildfires
We circle the danger of our lust
Until nature takes us over
Interlocking our bodies

Your sunhot golden skin
Tastes of honey and blood
As you tear fangs into my flesh
Shattering our passion
*************************

[Fervor] by Serathi

moon pale tigress with
sparkling blue eyes, I am
drawn to your skin, soft
yet tender
my fangs sinking gently
into your neck

you bade me closer as
I draw you close, insistent,
wanting of your scented kiss
sweet as
love upon a bed
of crimson roses

i feel you ripple beneath my grip
passion unfurling between our lips
feeling you quiver between your gasps
soft as
sex so tight
around my flesh
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arena (Mine)

Need not be so gentle
My narcotic lover
I am as addicted to your cries
As to your sighs

Beneath this cloak of fur
My blood quickens
And will not be quieted
As my lust attacks again and again

The night is not as cooling
As it was for us in innocent youth
No sun is needed to heat this jungle
My tongue laps but is not quenched
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Very Well Warrior (My response to his private poems)

So you would rather nestle in reeds tonight
But I am too feral for such hiding
The moon does not rule me as much as Mars does
And restlessness knows the lure
Of that to which I wish to become drunken

More than just for love are my heated veins
Darkness strokes me and stokes me
More than the powers of a lover can
I am too warrior to retire in lustful comfort
But do not wish for you to feel rivaled

My tail lashes not indecision but dual desires
As you have seen me dancing in the flames
As I waver momentarily not wanting you to follow
Not because I do not enjoy the challenge
But because I do not my wildfires to burn you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come back out of the shadows, Serathi..... (Mine)

Run with me then and we will ride wild
In strides and bounds our coupled pride
To where the desert is not as hot as flesh
Water not as drowning deep as your eyes

Together we will chase the longlegged gazelles
Rule the midnight magic of the emerald jungle
Scattering the confetti of birds with our cries
Of passion in all flavors of the day and night

Let there not be limits to our lovequest then
Even as our hides are scarred by the journey
And our throats grow graveled from growling
Every lash of our tails will tell the tales of triumph
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Release Me (Mine)

This heat rising inside me
Is not from the sun
For the moon has risen coldly
And still I burn and boil

Lover please come for me
Cannot you not hear my call
Deep and pleading roars
The echo and tear apart the night

Frantic cries for your frenzy
Restless panic grows stronger
As your absence continues
Madness menaces my soul

Run, my lover, run to me
Take from me this flesh
That feels like it is made of fire
Unfurl this cloak of fur from me

Drive into me with love's fury
Be the sword inside my sheath
That has slashed all existence away
To bring me such perfect release
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Foray (or should it be Fur-ray? lol--Mine)

Eager raspy tongues
Scour silk shoulders, wet lips
Fangs comb grooves between ribs
Nip ridges
Saliva pools in hollows of hips
Scent of sex intoxicating

Sudden pull-back warning
Open claws swatting
Contact
Rapid-strike grasping limbs
Connect
Teeth tethering back of neck
Struggle to twist around and fight

Claws rake ribs, scrape spine
Hips locking over other hips
Driving deep the spear
First shattering scream rages
Flank against flank faster
Necks arched, tails entwined
Wrapping tighter, unable to withdraw

Wildly withstanding, frantic for finale
Rocking, crashing ribs to ribs
Growl shredding between clenched teeth
Rips-out open-mouthed roar in answer

Flashing flesh and bone, rippling surges
Everything within exploding without
Thunderous cries, bodies crashing over
Tumbling together, falling to cool ground
Limbs slide, echoing each other
Slipping into slumber
Replacing piece with peace
One world succumbing to another


P.S.: Is there a phrase that means 'I bow to you in respect'? I like 'Namaste', as I believe in that, the sacred in each other greeting and acknowledging. But there are times, such as in response to what you brought here, that I would like to say 'thank you' with significant feeling. If there were a traditional way to do that, I would like to know

 

[arielsgoddess]

Rosaries, for David Gionfriddo

We are all roses in the garden
Growing to be chosen and to pick others
To be woven into garland and on again
In the recitation of life which does not end
Just as the wise will tell you with old hands
As they carry on the rites you are absorbing

The cross is merely an intersection

And no intersection is an end it is a choice
That we must consummate before continuing
But there is a secret to what keeps it going
For nothing simply is what it is for we all

Share in the momentum of purpose

You ask me to bring you the rosy
But which rose shall I be tonight, David
Will I bring for you the rose of the lover
Be the red bloom whose edges are black lace
Challenging you to reach for me
Snap off my thorns without getting bit
Unfurl my petals and press your face against them
That you may get drunk on my perfume
As you crush my layers into darker colors
Scattering them like the seeds of Venus
While your hands undo us both
And you weave your stem tightly into me

Releasing our passion into this world

Or will I bring you the bloom of darkness
Black velvet with the breath of moonlight
Reflecting off its perfect flesh silently inviting
With a scent that hints of eternity’s secrets
It beckons you to lay down into its roots and dream
Comforted by the blanket of mystery and the grave
As the passions of your life are swirled into shadows
Your essence weaves with that of the flower and passes

Without so much as another whisper of this world

Perhaps you seek the spring of innocence and babies
White buds just opening with such passion for life
That they seem to audibly pop in the sunshine
Wondrously staring around at you as they grow
Marking themselves with age and their choices

That will define both them and the garden

Becoming the maiden of your youthful desire
Transforming into a delicate cream rose with wide hips
The first tinge of blush appearing on my skin
Edging the curves where they turn towards you
Mesmerizing you as you imagine them turning crimson
Possible ways of cultivating such a metamorphosis
More intoxicating than the elusive depths of blue
Hiding behind dark lashes that flutter like butterflies
Over my eyes that want to fly wide with passion

Struggling instead to stay down and guard the flower

While your thoughts are interrupted by your grandmother
The picture of her pale and blushing in white and him in black
Staring confidently as she looks at the roses she is holding
They both know a secret that is about to pass between them

That they seemed at times about to tell you

Now withered tan and papery from her years in the sun
Moving despite rheumatism through the motions of labor
As perhaps she pressed your grandfather’s suit many times
For the passions he shared with her and carried on in the world
Only to preserve it for one last wearing on their final date
And as she sat afterwards her hands moving the rosary
Her eyes moving into the distance and her secret smile rising

Increasingly silent until he and the garden reclaimed her

When in sadness you may have gone to get your suit out
And as you pulled it from the drawer and heard rustling
Of red rose petals pressed underneath that as they fell
Sang out the last notes of their fragrance of passion
Which is the secret momentum that keeps us moving forward
Though there are many kinds of passion with many meanings

They all have only one purpose

And that is what we share
As we weave into the garland

 

[serpentwrap]

P.S.: Is there a phrase that means 'I bow to you in respect'? I like 'Namaste', as I believe in that, the sacred in each other greeting and acknowledging. But there are times, such as in response to what you brought here, that I would like to say 'thank you' with significant feeling. If there were a traditional way to do that, I would like to know

Why thank you, arielgoddess. I accept it with grace and gratitude. You are an excellent poet. You tell the prosetry with just the right amount of pizazz - those cryptic references laden with eons of philosophy - it leaves a delightful metronome buzzing in its wake.

It seems you are at home with our myths and legends. You clearly understand Shiva well, do you know the story of Shiva and Sati? Wish I were as fine a poet as you. I'll PM you a sample.

Could you please help me find Interlude. I loved all of these. And am still re-reading them to discover joy each time. That I understand all your references and their connotations is surely a big help.

Please send me some more, if you wish to, Its such a joy...

 

[arielsgoddess]

Differentiating (to Michael, who will know why)

You say you can't see good in other people
And that you treat the past like it is a mirror
Wonder why you can't teleport to other places on the map
While wallowing here

I read your words with more frustration
Watch time hoping something got through
Took root and began to grow anew in you
That my caring nudged you into a momenutm
For you to nourish and nurture your own new life

Instead you send me notices of returning to the dark
Shadows becoming your familiars and our familiarities
Becoming a shadow on my heart
That I can not erase the smudge of as I am losing light
Trying to pour mine into others that tear themselves up
Knowing that there is not enough of me to heal them
But unable to bear watching the beauty within them die
I pray that my tears will make up the difference in volume
While some other miracle will cease their destructiveness
Because I am getting far too tired to last much longer
Perhaps someone else will be the better translator
To help them differentiate the truths within this
To absorb what I am pouring forth and see it
As having value just like their own energy

When you ask how one act can make a difference
You are asking me about the momentum of life
For even though an existence begun may survive
Maybe have the will to struggle tall and manage to bloom
Without the care of anyone else eventually it will die

For if nothing else we all are claimed by gravity
The elements intended eventually to pull us back to dust
Blood sacrificed in our roots is never meant to be wasted
So some survive to destiny despite themselves and others

But the sprinkling of kind words may fertilize our courage
And water shed in tears of empathy accrue into our value
The gentle hand that helps us stand braces us against the wind
While older stems that bind to us make us stronger than the storms
Until youthful sight may find us and differentiate our beauty
Proving to us all those differences that almost broke us
Made us more uniquely precious to behold atlast
As we see the selves we most desired to be
Reflected in those eyes
The future

Which does not reside in dirt
Because the heart that does not wither
Grows so many more in many gardens

What will make you to open your eyes

 

[darkerdreamer]

I found this in an old xerox slambook from my poetic idol, I want to add punctuation and line breaks due to my nature, but I won't. Short but sweet, I can't get his permission anymore so I will omit the author's name:

Common

life is a commonality in experiences between unintroduced people.
you see this and i saw something similar in an abstract thing
we should talk more or have a classy martini in a shitty bar

i like it dirty with no garnish i hope you take yours similarly