No answer forthcomming

Insurmountable heights
wakeful nights
Starry eyed lament
interwined with rapturous intent
Carnal dreaming her insulted heart screaming

Beatnick poetry

Ok so my last post was rather drunken and pathetically melodramatic.

Heres a chance at another slightly less embarassing one:

So last night I'm in a fantastically funky restaurant with a group of well loved friends and a pretty descent Jazz band started up.

My friend commented that it was all very beatnick and that in the 60's stoners used to stand up at places like this and recite spoken word poetry to the crowd.

So, emboldened by red wine and good company I had a go at composing my own. Here it follows:

Undulating through a dicotinous notion of freedom
perpetual momentum towards an unanswerable destination
light, lighten softly encountering each revelation
Chose wisely the path and traverse without knowledge
quest begun, no end until another begins.
cyclic dreaming, rotary feeling,
unconcious understanding of a wheel.

Wine loosens the mind

Dear Man,

I am writing to today the truth that I am unable to state. The honesty I hide behind layers of bravado and ego and pride. The honest truth that I have shielded my own self from knowing. the connection with my soul that I have hidden not only from you but from my own concious self

I care about you deeply.

I don't know what that means or how it comes across but I want you as a part of my life and have ever since I met you. I hide behind the concept that I am truelly independant in my youth and freedom. I have told my self in mantra that I am nothing if not alone. That I need no one.

And in some ways it is true. I don't 'need' you I will survive with or without you. But I want to be with you and I want you to want to be with me.

You make my heart beat faster, my pulse race and the blood rush to my core. I desire you, care for you and most of all respect you.

I have offered you my body in the most crass of ways and the fact that you turned me away ssimply confirms that my feelings are rightly placed.

I don't want to change you, I just want you to want to hold me in your arms and comfort me.

You may not feel this way about me, and this honesty may disrpt any chance we have of being 'just frends'. I care not for sex. Though it would be a lovelly sharing between us again, I feel that I would be better off for simply having you in my life.

If only I coukld tell you this in truth. For now I will pretend and play the game that makes me so sad inside and so cowardly of heart.

Not with love but with adoration and respect,

Woman.

Empty Vessel.

She finds herself unable to reach the normal locus of inner calm. Previously an undiminishing well of sanctuary now a devestating void. Grey hands reach out and grasp but to no avail. Sheer frustration at lifes unending insecurities. Lack of commitment from others leaves life hovering around her, feet clear off the ground unable to find the gentle solice of earth.

The well has been drained by weeks and weeks of insecurity. Token gestures of care not enough to sustain the drain of everyone elses self pity.

A slap from a friend, a backhand from an employer, and with a mirror held up to every weakness, already shaken and vulnerable, the final blow - he lets her down.

Yearning has grown too strong again. Detatch. Damn it detatch. But oh! She does pine to be held in someones arms and cared for like the babe so regularly neglected by the perpetual adult.

So much potential and yet wasting away in this den of iniquity. For shame.

She desperately needs to have some fun. bring forth the Medusa, woman scorned, bitter and dangerous. The night of deamons awaits and the gorgon intends to let her hair fly free.

Brazillian Toe Massage

A gentle tingling sensation starting at the feet. Energy courses through the body and invigorates with its flow. Drift off and relax...

Concious of bright lights under the eyes, thoughts drifting in and out as the colours get brighter and then an image. A child, a cow, BIG giggling eyes, hide behind a pink veil.

Not a veil a petal, giant lotus leaf drifting down a gentle stream... Big dewy raindrops splash near by...

Drift off and relax...

A man at the top of a staircare as a door, ajar, lets through white light.

Return.

Mexico

The view is all around inside and out. Harsh reality of choices made rain down in the soul. You can't go back. pride holds her to this choice but fear and unkowing makes her pine for the comforts once known.

All will be fine. She knows this.

Looking back on the celebration of age brings warm ebbs of happiness and fullfuillment. The new life created entirely alone, yet filled with love care and goodness.

Life is good! Life is exciting! Life is being lived in so many ways.

She ponders on a fire that directs her life to Mexico.

Long term plans with him. Dare she even contemplate it? Mexico. Yes. That part feels right. With or without him. Protect herself at all costs. men are not to be trusted. Keep him at a distance. Do not fall in love with this one. But go to Mexico. perhpas not even come back?

Preparing to step through...

So,

She is evolving. Rapidly. And its wonderfully scary.

The body aches, the head pounds the sleep is short and shallow. The days are moving too fast and the fear is mounting and every thought process revolves around the unknown.

It seems melodramatic, an over reaction and yet, its impossible to supress. Massive change is comming. The ball has started and now the momentum cannot be stopped. Nor should it be.

This chapter has a lifespan measured now only in hours. A quarter century transformation. No longer considered a youth and from there the new life begings.

Goodbye to a place of solice through loss, fear and trepidation. Hello to an unknown world of hope and independance, born of fear yet fantastic.

She prepares to step through the window.

Words of a true friend.

May the force be with you, may ghia embrace you, and by god, remember you can always kick him in the balls if he makes you angry..

Fear of Love

I've come across something just recently that I had heard of but never believed in. Fear of love. Fear strong enough to pull yourself away from someone you could love leaving them desolate and confused and hurt because someone in the past once left you desolate, confused and hurt.

I am compassionate but that, that is something I struggle with. Something that makes me sad and angry at the same time, but most of all, today I am dissapointed.

Dissapointed that someone could tell me that they are afraid of me because I am too much what their heart desires. What a foolish notion. What a brutal way to turn away. What a cowardly approch to life.

Is this just a well rehearsed 'play'? Is this what gets the girls to swoon to build his ego enough to continue on uncommitted, unemotional? Or is this the cry of a broken soul lost in anguish so deep that there is no forseeable happiness even if it is there for the taking?

I have either been played by a master or lost a soul mate and either way, I am bitterly dissapointed.

Giddy.

Giddy. Happy. Confused. Excited. Invited. Success!

Suffocating

How did she fall from grace so quickly? From happiness, bliss and free dom to fear, anxiety and loathing in just a matter of hours.

The eyesight is hazy, she feels panic comming on. "I'm going blind" she thinks. "Blind just like him..." "Then what? do i become bitter and needy also?"

But she is bitter and needy and she knows it. Lack of love and true frienship has brought down harsh reality in floods. Waves of nausea clinging to childhood comforts. Why cling to this life that offers so little?

No home. No love. No career. What would the child think of her looking forward in time? Loser. Wasted loser no goals no ambitions just waiting for someone or something to set her free.

"Take me away. Please."

Gentle Rain

The View:

Courtship, friendship and financial harship all sit in her minds eye awaiting her constant attention. Instead she watches the rain and feels warm inside. Not happy nor sad she just is.

Time to buy more shoes she ponders. For the Mud. Childish glee flashes in her eyes as she plans her trek to the mud with reckless abandon.

Serenity and mud. Ohhh how she pines! Take off the shoes and squelch her toes and dance in the mud. Throw sticks in the stream and watch them race to a windy demise. Heavy dewy drops falling from leaves and plomping in her hair. Let loose let go. No ones watching, no ones commenting, no one here to give a damn just be free! The fantastic fantasy makes her smile from the bottom of her belly.

The waiting is almost over. Rejoice the faery goes home!

The torment begins

The view is hazy, unclear and distressing.

The nightmare reached climax in the furnace of dreams. Too much pressure and no release. Fallen too hard too soon. No love, no chance of reciprocation. Games, anxiety, fear, guilt. Anger.

Her home ruined. Her friendships never the same. Time to escape.

Exit stage left even. But how?

Surgical Sunset

Shes standing at a bus stop waiting in always uncomfortable shoes. 'Scuse Me' asks about the bus and the beach. Hes's on a journey to his last sunset and is frustrated by age and inability. Help is given and hope passed on and she will never see Scuse Me again but he will see his last sunset. Perhaps he is already gone.

Emotions torment the return of a different beast. One more sleep and then what will she do? Perhaps the lillies will come.

Beneith the stars

Beneith the stars, cold and blurred she is englufed with youthful freedom.
The life created thus far, satisfactory, the moment created thus far exemplary.
Life is fullfilling she says to the warm hand engulfing hers. Friendship.

Watching over in cruel irony is the encroaching counter balance she has seen looming. Instability. Determined not to lose the warmth within. "I am strong" she reiterates. "Stronger than ever before."

Nevertheless the instablility worms its way in. Bringing memories with it in flashes of sadness, unwholesome dispair.

A rush of air. The weight of a balanced exertion, powerfully counterbalanced, yet devastating to an unwelcome opponent. The balance is necessary, it is part of the punch. This time use a sinewave for good measure.

For the love of making love?

So, until now this new blog has been simply a place for me to write in stream-of-conciousness to outlet some of the convoluted patterns that churn in my mind daily. Today however the view from my window is tainted with clarity and a complete lack of creativity. This taint, brought on by a weekend charged with heady emotions has left me feeling too firmly planted in reality to serenade in fantasy.

So what do I do? I guess its time to take part in what bloggers do best... Social commentary!

But what subject to select? I am so heavilly opinionated in so many ways where could I possibly start? My first opinion piece should be bold, dynamic and thought provoking, but quite frankly I'm just not pissed off enough by anything at the moment. Sure I feel the urge to gouge out the eyes of random unsuspecting sportspersons every time news of Wayne Carey or whatever over respected, overpublicised ball kicking moron is plastered across each and every bloody 'news' broadcast, sure I have an opinion on day-light savings, George Bush, global warming, whaling, home ownership, the resource boom and human rights, but today I think I want to express my feelings on a subject that is not a major international event or an issue debated for centuries by the scholars of the world. I want to talk about boys and girls and that fascinating basis of humanity, what happens between them... Sex.

As a single woman I find sex is increasingly becomming a focal point of my life. Not in an obsessive way but just in the sense that it is the underlying factor in all social activities... Its in every pub, club, event, class & dinner party. I know I berate my 'coupled' friends for having boring life focal points like home renovations and tupperware but perhaps I am the boring one for spending so much time focusing on sex?!

Go to a party to meet... boys. Go to a night club to dance in an ill-fitting far-too-much-cleavage showing outfit to ... meet boys. Read books based on romanticised conflict resolution where in the end the girl gets the... boy. Watch tv where the ads and shows all tell me that the answer is to be sexy. Its so in your face and so ever present that quite honestly I'm starting to get bored of it.

Now sure, I think sex is a great thing and as most people, enjoy doing it, but I'm starting to think that we are expending way too much energy on the procurement of this act.

And it seems that sex in its basic sense is not even good enough any more. We have to have a repetoire of multiple partner sex, tantric sex and same gender sex. But at the same time still being lady-like and not being seen as too promiscuous.

I was in a nightclub on saturday night (not my normal idea of a good saturday night but there was a particular boy... of course!) so, this nightclub was full to the brim with young adults, 18 and 19 years old mostly when the DJ spun up a song with a huge base line complimented by the very subtle repetative lyrics 'I wanna fuck you, fuck you'. These lyrics were sung out loud by most of the men in the room and mimed by most of the women as we all gyrated like a huge primal seething mass of hormones and fleshy bits.

Now I'm no angel, but that song made me feel like painted over exposed meat and very quickly the whole experience became less about dancing a little bit alluringly for a guy I wanted to impress and became just plain ugly.

I just wonder how many young girls in that room got that 'fuck' they were supposedly after and if it was as good as the Libra Fleur advertisements had lead them to believe it would be...

Dichotomy of emotion (Part 2)

A mighty warrior has fallen as harsh frailty reins triumphant.

Rejoice for the freedom of a charecter bound by cruel reality, a reality that had no place for this not-quite mortal soul.

Lamentation for a friend not quite made. An aquaintence lost to antiquity, a hero none the less.

Goodbye story teller, wize cracker, vindicator and matriach.

Dichotomy of emotion

Having occured many hours hence, here I relay this days view;

"He spreads her as the pages of a fresh book of poetry, virgin to prose. Generously lavishing text of ode, exquisite articulation of epic torrents. For hours the pages, parched as vellum drink of ink as a story between them unfolds. Ode, ballad, sonnet, couplet. Breathing in synchoronicity the poem tells of a woman lost in a landscape desolate of vivacity. The refrain repreated twice of the verse sings the melody of desire renewed."

Rubbish Tip Sunrise

The world's majestic beauty is distributed in some of the most obscure ways.

The view:

"Dyhadrated and pulsating from preservatives she stumbles out in clicking shoes jumping from foot to foot and racing towards breakfast. Clack Clack and then look up. The voice on the radio says 'Religion is great because it controls alot of people who desperatly need to be controlled...'

Her mind replies; No god is distracted by religion. Why bother when they can spend their days mixing colours in the sky?

She reflects on the moments of the night past. A young man a flutter of messages, a touch on the shoulder and a smile followed by recoil and anxiety. Intimidation. I'm your venus, I'm your fire, your desire... Anthema in the distance. Ha! the absurdity but oh what fun!

A stunning sunrise above the festering wound of the rubbish tip. Sadistic beauty at its most exotic.

Giving up on the shoes she drives off into the sunrise to renew the day enlightened."

The first glimpse

A fuzzy head and a slightly slower heartbeat.

Sitting in a small white room surrounded by chaos. To the left a statue of a woman of gold sitting in a glass window. Her fountain turned off, power disconnected yet thoughtful, longing and a reminder of a place in time when hope was needed.

Life brought me here today. A beggining, a fresh start a new view from my miniature window.

What view ?

"A smile crosses her face as she walks through a field. A naughty smile, built on a conciousness of hapiness within, challenged by the sense of unworthiness recieved by jelous others. Its naughty because others don't have it.

Strength, femininity and abundance ooze from her aura with every casual step. finally her heart cries finally its as it should be.

I am strong."