Posts Tagged ‘love’
And now for things that are harder to say
I will start with what comes easy
for I know
that we as people
We fall in love with each other
We do not fall in Love with a Gender
For the idea of Gender is the creation of men
and does not reflect the Truth
Each of our bodies are made to accommodate the love of either MALE or FEMALE
For all of the organs we use for Sex
We use for waste as well, there is Gender Equality
And from all we gain, either relief or pleasure
And we are at once Man and Woman
When it comes to sex
For when a man is penetrated, he derives pleasure from penetration
For there is pleasure in penetration
Climbing the mount to the Ultimate Climax
It may please, though one cannot routinely reach the summit
For there are men whom embody women and give off their scent
And to them, Man will have an even greater attraction
Than to her, cloaked in the female form
And they know not why
But it is fair to say that our opposite forms attract each other
And it is fair to say, there is good reason for this
And it is fair to say, that man and woman should procreate
But then these things have nothing to do with love and the joining of souls
To bring life into being is apart from these matters.
It is a favor for friends
for in each that is born
The soul of an old Love is reintroduced into this wonderful world
And this new reborn soul will live with or without LOVE and NURTURING
From them that bore them or sowed their seed
It is the initial sacrifice, to create and carry that was your debt
It is LOVE for humanity, culled from your trip to hell, that bends your heart to care for one entering
A cold world with no one at their side
But it is not fair
It is not just
to declare WHOM or WHAT
ONE must like or LOVE
These cannot extend in one direction and not another
For this world is full of variety
And just as a man may be drawn to a woman of Red Hair and Pale complexion
So he may be drawn to a woman of Jet
And so a woman may desire a man who be tall with dark features
She may also be drawn to one who is short and mild
And so a MAN may be drawn to a MAN
Who is unlike himself, whether he be soft or rough
And so a WOMAN may be drawn to a WOMAN
that is unlike her
But if they sought what they seek in the opposite sex
They very well may find them
Or they may NOT
It is just the world conspiring to have more
More of us
that it may marvel at our works
and one day tell the universe of this most BEAUTIFUL MOTHER
and RADIANT and watchful FATHER
And we will be CLOAKED
In GENDER RAIMENT
For it is a beautiful frock
And when removed
WE REVEAL OUR BEAUTIFUL STOCK
Fidel sighs and sits up. Marge gets up and grabs her purse, which is sitting next to the couch.
She fishes her cell phone out and answers it.
MARGE (on the phone)
Hey, John… No after work me and Norma decided to get some coffee… I’m actually in the bathroom… I’ll be home in a couple of hours… Yes… Do you want me to bring some food? Okay… Yes… No… That’s a good idea, why don’t you rent one?
Fidel gets up from the couch and paces behind it, wrapped in his sheet.
MARGE (on the phone)
I don’t want to talk about that right now… You know how I feel… I’ll be home in a little while… Okay… I said okay, I’ll talk to you later.
Marge hangs up the phone.
Fidel is leaning against the back of the couch with his back to the audience. Marge is sitting on the couch facing the audience.
Marge has her compact out and is inspecting her face.
I have to go soon.
Fidel slumps a bit, crestfallen.
Yeah, I know.
He’s home. I don’t love him any more but I don’t want to hurt him.
Come here, baby. Come hold me.
Fidel steps over the back of the couch and sits down, Marge moves him with light physical suggestion so that he sits with his back to the arm and she gets between his legs and covers herself with his arms.
I love you.
I love you.
I love how you never say, I love you too.’ That’s such a cop, it sounds like a lie.
I have my own love for you that generates from my heart. I didn’t have to learn to love you; I didn’t fall in love with you because you were in love with me. I love you.
I just have to go soon.
Ugh, oh my God. We had a class together and I was away from home really for the first time. John and I were cool, we used to see each other at all the parties.
Marge sighs and shakes her head.
He wasn’t at… that party; I didn’t see him there. I don’t think they were letting too many guys into that one anyway. Maybe that’s why…
You don’t have to explain it to me, Marge. You met him the way people meet, it’s okay.
I just want to explain it, Cass. Just let me tell it.
We hear party SOUNDS, YELLING, LAUGHING. We hear MUSIC, BASS and we hear FRATBOY CHEERING.
Well it was after that party… After– after it happened, just the usual Frat Boy pranking, I guess. After that I wasn’t even sure I wanted a guy to touch me anymore. It wasn’t violent or anything just… something I could never have back, a feeling, a perception… Those kind of guys, those guys are such bastards.
Marge moves to wipe her eyes; Fidel squeezes her a little tighter and caresses her hair.
John and I were doing a multimedia project together and just became friends. He never really tried to put any moves on me or anything. I started to get over things and go on dates. It wasn’t really working out though; I couldn’t find that person and I could never figure out why. There were drop dead gorgeous guys that really wanted to be with me, some older guys, some real cool guys. Out of all of them though there was something missing. Then one night John made a move… and I let him. I think I figured that I would never find that one guy; I should just get back to reality and find a somebody. I always thought I’d get over it… get over it, you know but I figured if I wait until then…
Marge turns her body into Fidel’s.
Why couldn’t I have met you? You’re the one I was looking for. I married him because I didn’t meet you… and girls… we’re different; we need security, we look for it. It’s not always about love. No one else ever has love, your parents don’t have love; there’s no passion. Your friends don’t have love. They only have love in the movies and I always wonder what happens two weeks after the movie ends. They probably have the same fight that broke them up in the middle of the movie– break up again or just continue the cycle and squeeze out all the passion and poof. They’re just like everyone else.
But them, they talked about her, told her how she cheated on you, how she fucked so many before you, how she wasn’t shit; they’d never fuck with her in a million years, not with a ten foot pole. But then you found out they all went after her; everyone went after her but they didn’t really want what you had. They actually wanted her to be as bad as they imagined so they could mistreat her, use her, hurt her and somehow feel better. Instead of looking for what you found. But then they were just following what they were told, what the mold should be, to follow in line with Puppy love and Love in general being stupid, gayish and an unrealistic ideal. Weak, powerless and impotent is the idea of love to them when it is just the opposite. Your dick was never so hard when you were really in love with that girl. I know it got pretty stiff after a bunch of beers too. But your shit was like Voltron when you were in love, yeah?
When you got older you noticed from TV and movies that it was the misogynistic, women beaters and abusers that were truly impotent, weak and powerless. You figured out all the tricks they used, you found out what they wanted to do to your love. You found out that chiding adults were regretting love lost and you also discovered that love wasn’t something that everyone had yet to fully realize and feel. The love that matters in the struggle for your freedom and soul, cliché as that sounds;
but muthafucka’ that shit is cliché for a reason. Your mama may love you, and so may your daddy and others but whose in love with you and who are you in love with? You better ask yourself that question. It ain’t never too late but as I always say when I respectfully request something, I would like it sooner rather than later.
You had to forgive her for questioning your feelings because they were felt so strong between the both of you there was a bit of fear that this powerful phenomenon was the love they throw around so flippantly in TV and movies. You hadn’t read much literature yet so you didn’t know that the pen could get it right. Sleepless nights when you had spats and she wouldn’t answer the phone, stomach pains, moaning and crying… well not quite crying cause that was difficult for you to do. You had feelings and all but crying was grounds for samurai suicide. When you broke up with her, she called you after the specific number of days, hours or whatever in which she popped into your head. “What’s she doing right now, whose she with?” When she pinged you, just to see how you were doing you were happy, played cool but wanted to see her. When she called back and asked if you wanted to see her. You wanted to dance like Snoopy. When you picked her up and saw her. She looked better than she ever did. She glowed, she smelled great and you felt the comfort of your bond being restored to a more reasonable length.
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When it all goes wrong, when it all went wrong; before you knew that people would lie to you, friends would lie to you. But it wasn’t just lies, that was the tricky part. Like a cartoon character summoned by the aroma of a fresh baked pie on the window sill, they would lead you astray just to get the thing you were already blessed to have. But there were two unfortunate items. The first was, of course, you didn’t know you were blessed to have the thing. No one told you really, they only discouraged and tried to shake it out of you with dreams of growing up in which all foolish things must be left behind. So it was obviously fools who defined what was foolish. The second item was that you figured as bad as they were bad-mouthing the thing you had, they couldn’t possibly want it. Well yes and no.
They called her a ho’ and a slut and a tramp and any man a fool for treating her with any kind of fondness. Your manhood was of course in question because you were treating said women with much fondness but what did you know? You had a beautiful girl who wanted to spend every moment with you. She walked into your high school English class with the boldness of a grifter and told your teacher that there was an emergency and you had to come right that instant. The teacher saw the earnest expression on her face and called you out. She’d planned on failing you anyway but it wasn’t like you cared right? You didn’t care, you were going to rush home to your room with her; slip into your bed and get lost in ecstacy. But we’re all horny; no, this was something more. It wasn’t just the act, it was the feeling behind the act, how you looked at her in the dark and her face was a clear picture, it glowed as the moon. For you it was a reflection of your happiness. When you told her you loved her it came from a place with no words and was expressed with a feeling that was without doubt.
Alright, alright, Deadorooney has sung a sombre song or two in the last couple of weeks. HOWEVER, Deadorooney is a creature of the elements and it has been DAMN COLD out in ole Paris (U gotta say it like, ‘Pah-Ree’ d’accord?). Not to fear for the sun has been peaking out here and there and it’s almost to the point where I can’t sit stuff outside of my window and expect it to be refrigerated.
Ah, to be a Cyberpunkian in Paris, you’ll find no better blend of Goth and Tech than in Paris. Hotspots abound, everyone is connected. Characters from William Gibson novels speeding around on scooters with awesome, Cyberhelmets among all of these gilded statues and structures, it is really surreal.
This is the home of Space Invader, what’s more Cyberpunk than that? In between the sheer act of survival, Deadorooney has been having a blast. Though day to day living makes you live in the moment. Luckily, I am a mass of technology and can snap some sort of digital replication at a moments notice. But again, the cold weather will drain your battery faster than a bluetooth exchange.
Anyway, this is Paris and in Paris, everything is done in style and I mean everything and Deadorooney likes style. Parisans will make anything work (or they can work anything). There’s just something about a place that can be so accurately represented in film. I mean like, New York, on TV and Movies you see buildings, a Sea of yellow Cabs and millions of people walking the streets. If you go to New York, it looks just like that, exactly. Paris is much the same, everything you see in the movies, it’s all happening just like that… Yes, I saw a Mime… Well wait a minute, there are these pharmacies everywhere, I mean, ridiculous numbers of them, two or three on a block, there are more Green crosses than anything in Paris, even churches.
Deadorooney has also been thinking a lot about God. But you must understand, I don’t think you can go anywhere in Paris and not see the dome of a church jutting up through the tree line or between buildings. And if not that, then a Mosque or a store window stocked with statues of Ganesh or Krishna. Paris is something of a Religious nexus, it’s under the skin of this town. It makes you think.
And what does it make Deadorooney think? Life is Grand, I’m high like the kick of a can-can dancer. Never mind that the world economy is in shambles, deadorooney can still knaw on a baguette and Pickle Al Halal, with cheese of course. You will find me sipping my “une cafe” INSIDE (damn cold) a cafe, oh, around the less hip parts of town but to my eyes, it’s all Super Cool. Yes, that is I Deadorooney, who speaketh terrible French and is even too cheap to ride the Metro. Not like I know where I’m going anyway.
It was put on backwards
Every line has formed a raised scar
This was a Family that was given me
But snatched away, only after separating me from my own
On this hand I bare a terrible scar
Upon suggestion of what sort of Warriors we are
This finger will not bend
For those who wield power made sure it would not properly mend
And here is the pain of betrayal
When a finger fixed was a finger fused, yet in still Physical Therapy was prescribed to make an impossible move
And this is my scalp
More devoid of hair, from stress to ensure our protection from foreign danger
And these nuts
that forever itch
I recall a fateful towel swap
And each time I soldier-on
A Greater Hammer swings to fall
For here is a screenplay
Worth a great deal of riches, the top product among all the pitches
And I sit as I watch the deal founder
For I have no voice and only the envy of the founder
And here is a painting
A wonder of works
And there follows the laughter and a great many jokes
And here is my success
As I blaze through the workplace
And here is my face as my good work is made a disgrace
And here is my novel
Blazed across the silver screen, But Alas, no one in the production ever notified me
And each time I soldier-on
A greater Hammer swings to fall
And in my winged sandals
I sidestep the terrible pal
And here is my heart
Broken in two. No! Do not turn around, I speak not of you
For that distinction never lies with just one
So fear you not, I’ve not come to see you avenged upon
And there is my peace of mind
Shattered with loud barks and stomps, And if my despair is perceived?
Successful cheers and pomp
And as I soldier-on
A Greater Hammer swings to fall
For infliction of physical pain is nothing at all
When this became true, It was my heart, constantly under attack
For my skin, my talk or the way I walk
And the more I love myself
The more it pains me to talk of all these things that have left their mark
Don’t cry for me or think of flying to my side
I flatter myself with the thought
I will not know, for I will be in a hide
And there are the hearts that I MYSELF have broken
But that was no intention, But now I’m not sure
My sympathy is broken
For I have had a hand at the harsh realties of life
And I too can dispense them with no care for love or life
It’s mean when I do it to them
But to me, it’s only what is right
So now I cannot Soldier-On
Because the road has run out
My only hope is to fly
Or plummet, severely South
But for one to fly
He must first have wings
And I fear, I have grown a pair of TERRIBLE THINGS
But they are STRONG and WHIP the WIND
So strong, in fact, I can keep pace with no Friend
And there is me as I fly alone
And below I let my keen eye
Search for a home, But in truth it is this I know
Down below there is non for me to go
So I must continue to RISE and fly ABOVE
Where those await that which I know not
And they Love me as well, As I am a missing son
And I enter alone for we can only come
One by One
And I enter alone for we can only come one by one
And here is where my gaze rests, But from here I see the distance is a torrid test
In which I must try my hand
But it is not a test, It is not a competition to see who is best
For all the bad, some was purpose, some was accident
Some I caused, Some could even have been heaven sent
But in the end
It matters not the cause of the Pain we just know we would deign
Not to feel it again
And these thoughts weigh heavy and cause my wings to strain
But I will flap them over and over again
And planes will fly by and passengers will laugh
As my wings Flap and Flap but I make no progress
But alas, the wash of their JET
Propels me to heights not reached as YET
And to the Stratosphere, where the air is much thinner
And the weight of my woes will not be the winner
And I must flap my wings far less
For it is my turn to look down and be impressed
At God’s creation so beautiful and FREE
So minor, I can see, were the things that Hurt ME
And now I glide
I no longer have to flap
So once, twice around, before I narrow the gap
And now from this perspective
My LOVE is recharged ANEW
And now I’m truly ready to commune in LOVE
//We Turn Now to pOetry//
//As the World ends on schedule//
//You May tune In to Watch said Demise//
//But yOu have Been Watching it all Your life//
//Because NO ONE GENERATION shall own the end//
//No One Generation shall see the end//
//Because the end looks much like the beginning//
//We may only see it when it has past//
//Only then will there be a Mark//
//Feel free to LOVE now//
//You wiLL See That it is OK//
//But they will still try to scare you//
//But it is only a scary mask//
//Behind which is a face that does love//
//And is Loved//
//Those that need hate are not your concern//
//Those that know HaTe are well equipped to deal with their own ilk//
//I repeat, The world is OVEr, Feel Free to LOVE//
//I turn to poetry//
I view the exchange as even
But many see things askew
since we are raised from a certain point of view
and in this, wherein Ouroboros bites Her tail.
For to bear a child is to enlist a life long ally
in which to love
And where reciprocation is as death
And of this ilk can numbers be bore
Multiply more and more
And there will be no shortage of man
For which, a seed can be sown
Rather that man be high or low
He alone cannot wholly contain the capacity of his sperm
It gives him pleasure without measure, infinite like the Gods
Even when the effort is small
It nearly drives the species to heights quite tall
The feeling is intensified as the circumstance becomes more bizarre
This is where men try to hide who they truly are
But our writers and recorders never lie
in describing what manner of beast, fish or fowl in which man is urged, on top, to lie
Prohibition drives the urge ever greater
But what follows is guilt and shame in nature
Man will issue seed and nature will decide in which thing it shall be sown
And Herein lies the curse as Ouroboros tastes his tail.