Thank you for your kind words, re: liking the poem, but, please professor, speak your mind plainly, so that we mere mortals can understand you..., smile? I have a vivid imagination, not sure i know your answer...
Desert eyes, unassuming, steady, dark, mysterious, They hide the force of a goddess. A tinge of the lonely spirit of the desert entices you, Like the dry, but very fragrant scent of a wild shrub.
You approach them cautiously, Ever respectful of their authority, Ever wondering whether you’re playing with them, Or whether they are preparing you for the sacrificial altar of fools.
Throwing all caution to the Levantine wind, Your hand touches hers, and you connect with her desert daimon. A searing, indescribable, arid energy surges through your frail body, Filling it with hope, with love, and with a soaring human thrill.
You take that energy and taste it with your parched lips, They begin to moisten, as the love of the goddess graces you. Yet, yet, there she sits, Centred and impassive, trained well in the art of motionlessness, That art, that is second nature to creatures of the desert, By virtue of eons of Saharan heritage.
She watches you with the most penetrating, unnerving, desert-hue eyes, you have ever had the misfortune to be watched by, You waft closer to her lips, pathetically attempting to be invisible, Ha! You transparent creature, How can you ever hope to trick her?
You hesitate, thinking of that sacrificial altar of fools, But, it’s no use, You’re drawn inexorably towards your delicious destiny, To taste her untasteable lips, A mere doorway to delights unknown to mere mortals.
She, now, takes the reins, her endless patience at an end, Wearied by your ineptitude. Fire scorches your mortality, and you cease to exist, As she plunges you into the realm of the desert gods.
You have indeed been sacrificed, But, out of sheer and ageless mercy, not necessarily on the altar of fools, As she offers you her magnificent and unspeakable all, She wonders, whether you’ll prove worthy, And you, you mere man, will you be able to stand?
I could not resist one more favourite quote: Sufi poet Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi (circa 1200 ACE) says;
"Come, Come whoever you are, wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. Our's is not a caravan of despair. Come even if you have broken your vows a thousand times, Come, come yet again."
broken your vows? despair? wanderer? lover of leaving? Sound familiar? I bet, i bet...
Your birthday today? Sooo sorry, i did not realize, may it end off better than it started, much better! Dear Snuggs09,I think this movie will turn out great for you, how can it not with all the wonderful support and outpouring of love you're receiving from total starngers and the other faithfulls? Guillaume Apollinaire (French Poet and Critic)once said: "Come to the edge, he said. They said: We are afraid. Come to the edge, he said. They came. He pushed them and they flew.” Antoine de Saint-Exupery said: "What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well." No one is doubting that you're wading through a very dry and arrid desert, now, my friend, and that you're afraid and discouraged, and angry at the 'men'[mice really, as no real man would treat a fellow human being thus...]in your past, if nothing else, just sit tight and wait for the well to manifest, it will, it will... and somewhere you will find the inner strength to go to the edge and fly again, you've done it before, you know you have, it's just that after a while it gets tiresome, does it not? And, how do you know oh dear one, that your anguish is not giving meaning to our lives all involved in your drama with you, as we strive to say words of comfort to you, and most of all, just know that we're also very willing to sit by you and just 'listen', just listen, i will be listening for as long as i can my friend!!!
Hey Snuggs 09, writing to you from a beautiful Greek island on the Mediteranean. I lived in Houston TX, for 12 years as well. I must tell you, I'm not a 'thready' person, but something told me to read and reply. so, here's my 2 cents worth. If you're feeling crappy, and lonely[both about which i could write a few volumes]then why not celebrate the crappinness? Wallow in it, kind of, say: 'i'm feeling crappy, and i will now wallow in it...', and celebrate it in your own inimitable individual way! It's always too soon to give up! Why pray, are you loosing your self-esteem? no way, loss of self-esteem is at the bottom of all our troubles. next, ask yourself:'what's the worst thing that can happen to me?' My clients used to look at me mouths open when i would suggest this[I'm one of those mind-body-spirit consultants, smile?], so, probably one of the worst things that can happen to us is this scenario: we end up on the street, homeless and we have contracted ebola, ... right? So what? the only problem with this scenario is if we don not fully espouse it and celebrate it to boot! otherwise, eh, it's just another 'result' defining no one really. but, the moment you let an event fool you into defining your infinite and glorious and maginificent self in any smaller fashion, then, even if you're the titanic, its to the bottom of the ocean for you. Chow for now, can't believe i rambled on so, but, hey, i'm loving and accepting and celebrating my propensity to ramble! lots of love, Earlgreytea
Earlgreytea Forum Posts (14)
Lost a 'special love'? Write a peom and tell us about her/him...here's mine...
Nah, no hard feelings, did you recently lose her?