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Wednesday, September 16, 2009


Piece Title: “Wordlessly”
Theme: It wasn’t the fact that these two had waited so long before they had made love, it wasn’t even the fact that they touched each other deeply and shared the ultimate display of love because in the broad scheme none of these things matter. What seems to matter is this: the fact that both lie there with the curves of their bodies fitting each other perfectly and without words they understand each other better than if they had spoken.

There are days that need no explanation. This is one...

So long the wait it seemed
But then…
Sigh, satisfied
Slow intimate
Quiet stirs at the ending
Perfection abounds, galloping
No bounds to it
Wildly amazing
Freedom of simplicity
When curves complete
Curves in infinite circle
Where no words need be spoken
Our silences converse
In quiet whispers
So soft that they take natures
Of inaudible speech
The mere kissing
That proximity that skin has
With another is glorious
Glory of us
Lying, talking
Lying, really
For there is none syllable
Not a phrase
Strong arms holding
A soft frame
In the still of the midnight
The dawn
The moment
When the fluid warmth
Of the bare skin
Can be felt
Heard to speak volumes
From under fingertips
Without ever
Speaking volumes
Mind are open books
Ripe for reading
Sweet comfort in caress
Of thigh, bosom
Fingers find home in your hair
Slowly running through
Of all things this
Seemed something greater than words
Because there are no
So loud
Between touching
Feeling slow breaths
On necks
In ear
On your face
There is a communication
More glorious
More glorious
Than just to say it
Our collusions
The grand collaborations
Of skin
At the solace
Of just lying here
Draped in each other
With nothing more holding
Two souls to this place
But tight grips
Nothing spoken
Only here
Hear only

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Snippets ,Shit, Ramblings...or something of the sort

Of Your Memory
(Lucian Darkcrowft sits in his study reading a book, not really paying much attention to the words that the author had so painstakingly combined amid covers. He is saved from further feigned reading by the entrance of his butler. He looks up and addresses the entry.)

Darkcrowft-Yes, Reed?

Reed-Sir, a Miss Black is waiting in the foray.

Darkcrowft-Really? Bring her here.

(The butler departs the company of his employer for a moment, returning a few seconds later with Deborah Black. She is an older woman who seemed to have aged very gracefully with very few lines countenancing her chocolate coated skin. Her dark hair is long with the occasional touch of gray. At first glance she would give anyone the impression of great looks in younger days. Her eyes reflect those of her sons, brown and filled with a depth that seems beyond words. She smiles slightly, causing him to smile as if he were a schoolboy. He hides it quickly, not quickly enough to unseen by the woman herself. She smiles wider at seeing this and she speaks.)

Deborah-(smiles) Hello Lucian. It’s good to see that in your old age you still do something as sweet as smile.

Darkcrowft-You’ve never accused me of being sweet in all the time you’ve known me. Except…

Deborah-…when I loved you.

Darkcrowft-I was gonna say when we were young…(shrugs, smiles slightly) but that’s true too. (offers a chair) Have a seat.


(He seats himself on a couch just as Deborah sits close to him. His arm rests on the back of the chair just as Deborah rests dubiously close to being under it. All the same this is disregarded as he speaks to her in a conversational tone.)

Darkcrowft-So…what brings you here?

Deborah-It’s just that I haven’t seen you in a month or two. I asked T.J. had he seen you and he was vague…as always.

Darkcrowft-(laughs) That’s T.J. for you…he’s vague but brilliant…wise…loyal. Why didn’t you just come to Dirtyfoot’s. I’m usually there…or to the house. If I recall correctly you never had a problem finding it before. (winks)

Deborah-(smiles, blushes) Yeah…I could never forget that. But I didn’t come look for you because I have two sons to look out for…you do remember I have children, right?

Darkcrowft-(quietly) I do. The lyricist and the criminal…how are they?

Deborah-(snorts, smirks) The lyricist is fine. He’s a little…confused albeit weak under pressure but he has a good heart and is loyal to a fault.

Darkcrowft-A good heart, huh? He must have gotten it from his mother.

Deborah-(blushes again) Yeah. Joseph is…different. He’s passionate to a point of obsession and I often wonder if it will be his undoing…but he’s strong, calm, and something of a clown. (looks sideways at Darkcrowft) Kinda reminds me of his father, really.


(Darkcrowft stands and leans against the mantelpiece, his back to Deborah. She stands and in a few strides she is at his back, her arms draped lovingly around him as she places her head on his shoulder, her cheek to his. She prepares to speak but he cuts her off before the words can escape.)

Darkcrowft-Don’t speak it, Deborah…please. Not again…

Deborah-Why not? You love me as much as love you…maybe more.

Darkcrowft-There is no question of that….(turns, hold her waist, looks in her eyes) I have loved you since I first met but I’m not the same person, Deborah…

Deborah-You sound the same…you feel the same…you even smell the same.

Darkcrowft-I could say the same of you…but…

Deborah-But what, Lucian?

Darkcrowft-You know why it can’t be…

Deborah-(as Darkcrowft) Your blood keeps our love from ever being…(in normal voice) I know, I know.

Darkcrowft-Just let me remain of your memory, my love…it’s for the best.

NOTE:If you haven't realized by now, I'm something of a storyteller.

I try not ramble, to go on and on...
Sometimes it's unavoidable if you're trying to get a point across, to convey that golden ideal to an audience. Most would argue that it's minutia and just to get to the point. A smaller contingent would...

I'm rambling...

The snippet above deals with remembering someone important to you as they were, as they cannot rightly remember themselves given what they have become. A lot of people change for the better but another contingent of people change to something unrecognizable. I'm too afraid to be honest enough with myself to ponder which way I have gone in the grand scheme of things. All I ask is that whatever way this soul has gone I pray that I remain the same person...

in your memory