Streets are busy this time of day, but does it matter? Rain will wash away the dirt and deceit on the surface. Orange peel. She puts it in her pocket for fear of leaving traces; an organic envelope of guilty nourishment. A rocketing desire, unidentified, twists her heart, while the taste of fruit is fading away. She cannot leave the skin of what she tasted to rot on the pavement. She keeps it all for a while, but does it matter? Her latitude is well beyond skin and walls. {There is more pleasure to come}.
I love this ~
No feeling is the end, always more to come.
Wonderful way of explaining this inner state of ebb and flow, the desires that we silence in our hearts as circumstances move on, the boundaries in the heart going beyond ~
Blessings,
Christine
Again, another enigmatic write. There are so many different ways of taking it, as Felix says. I actually have a very close friend who has a problem throwing anything away--pieces of paper, twisted gum wrappers, junk mail, etc. Getting through this mind set is extremely difficult, and requires tireless work on her therapist's part to encourage, empathize, and help prioritize. To her, I want to say, Eat kumquats instead of oranges. There is no need to toss the peels then; you can savor the sweet skins with the bitter fruit. And there's more. The flavor lingers...though the fruit's all gone. La. Pucker up and waltz on the brink of freedom. Let the rain wash away what it will.
I too believe a good down-pour now and then can do a lot of cleansing--inside and out. --Charlie
Many emotions come to the surface after reading this extraordinary poem.
It takes me to my younger days, when life was so ripe and fresh. Open for interpretation. I conjure up a woman of the night that is in search of physical pleasures but leads a different life during her daytime hours. Just a vision I got from your poem...
Like your other recent work, Axilea, this has the richness and emotional charge of intimacy, you are documenting certain uncertain states of mind and coming to terms with them.
Uniquely origianal...to make the reader digest the taste of this write and wonder at it's origins. Is it a homeless person, befriended on the street, a woman-child being coerced into passion...so may othe possibilities for the reader to contemplate.
fee
A teenage boy struggling with the coming-of-age issues of sexuality, religion, and peer approval is overwhelmed, but soldiers on. After several years, he comes to understand the family forces that have left him so deeply troubled, and the process of
Determined to confront the hazy memories of his troubled youth, Oliver Matthews, a retired detective and confirmed bachelor, returns to the picturesque town of Henley-on-Thames for the first time in years.
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No feeling is the end, always more to come.
Wonderful way of explaining this inner state of ebb and flow, the desires that we silence in our hearts as circumstances move on, the boundaries in the heart going beyond ~
Blessings,
Christine
I too believe a good down-pour now and then can do a lot of cleansing--inside and out. --Charlie
Ron
It takes me to my younger days, when life was so ripe and fresh. Open for interpretation. I conjure up a woman of the night that is in search of physical pleasures but leads a different life during her daytime hours. Just a vision I got from your poem...
Much peace, love, and light,
Amber
Georg
John
fee