Thursday, August 25, 2011

Toro Bravos

The scene starts in the Spanish desert. Our heroine lay intoxicated under the shadow of a bull that is not a bull. Earlier she did meet a man - a vagabond on the desert trails to small obscure towns hidden in the red dust and thirsty scrub. Seeking company in the lonely, she found her mind wiled by his wily ways, and mulled into thinking perhaps this dust covered one was more than appearances let seem. IN the heat of a starlit night under the influence of droughts of fire, things revealed themselves to be as they are and come morning strangers parted, their roles instead filled by amorous curious souls. So how did our heroine end up in her precarious state? Gods sometimes walk the earth as men; sometimes hide amongst the mortals; sometimes lust for earthly form; and sometimes are surprised by what is thrown in their path by the fates, a power greater than their own. So our heroine's precarious state is not real, just symbolic of the situation she found herself placed - under the affection eye of a god hidden in the flesh of a man.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Revision of an Invocation

How dare you call me from the shadows! Do you know what I am? That ancient thing that dwells in the primordial heat. Will you worship me? This dark power? Can you freely owe allegiance to something so dank and deadly, earthy and demented. I am mad! My poor mortal, I am mad. And you are delicious … Oh how you persist! Will you then let me feed from your soul? Millennia in forgotten hollows, I thirsted for blood, for bone, for screams. Fed by only dust instead, my hunger inflamed. In this prison I didst reminisce of past sacrifices to my name and the doom of civilizations fallen to my hunger. And thus I need … You …Your blood, your desires, your life. Do you think I could ever cherish your mortal soul enough not to take it from you? Do you think I possess such self control? Free me and I will destroy you but not before such pleasures … You will blissfully die and I will dwindle again until I exist no more, as it was foretold so very long ago. My time has past, but you shall help me remember, if only for an ember’s moment.

Slips

The tongue slips and words are spoken. The tired mind writes, types things meant left unsaid. Pathways into the unknown open. Whether through careless or fearless or an unconscious mind protesting restraint, somehow didst this accident occur. Mad to be kept at bay those emotional hounds brayed at my heels wanting freedom. Now free the world is quietly changed - the dam’s burst but that which trickled out cannot be seen with naked eyes attached to cloudy minds. What shall the recourse of these accidental actions be when one looks back to this moment during a weakness of long reflection? Pray there be no sign of regret’s hunt as emotional hounds stalk lonely forests for prey or a way home.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Fish Friday with my Friends

The sky did that cause I was full of love. Beams of light shot from clouds, sherbert orange like a sepia retro rainbow. On that boat ride into the night surrounded by the warmth of companions, the sun angered to miss out shot out such beams in protest. Love love love. I am in love. Love love love, so weird, and queer, and wonderful. We pulled up on dark shores to a carnival of aquatic delights. Swarthed in savory fumes we did explore the narrow corners full of beasties and their thralls. Laughter we emitted from mirth and joy. Clinging to each other we ate, we sang, we didst hug. Later curled up in shadows as plankton glowed and flying fish flew up to the moon, we shared warmth and sighed for the night to never end. But it did and back to our corners we went.