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..