guest post by cloud gatherer hold me down
beneath this cloudless sky there is
nowhere to hide. the epitome of naked. motives are questioned. their
magnitude in relation to hearts. i trace the constellations in and
beyond my own flight path and wear the contradictions like a second
skin. i can teach you to read these maps; to listen to the gentle
thundering beneath your bones and the way the hallowed ground sings and
screams that love is the opposite of gravity. and i'll dance in your
palm when the moon is on fire warning of battles to come, where worlds
are tasted on blood stained teeth and the road of our spines all cracked
and worn leads back to where it all started. but let me ask you, if i
were to say "sacrifice is love made holy", with what would you reply?
and would i even understand? reading the pattern of your words, peeling
them back until red turns gold and drips and i start to wonder for how
long have you been wielding lightning bolts from your palms? and what of
these invisible walls? are we not gods? come closer...
the
morning is tinged with blue. im exhaling warm clouds and coming to the
realisation that this body isnt big enough for me to scratch the names
of all i love. i'm moving onto the walls. the already written pages.
making new maps. searching for the life behind eyes. even those whose
smiles cannot disguise their disenchantment. i worship the god in you.
all of you. in me. in the books and the trees and earth and i eat all
the rainbows. the strings of words one pearl at a time. until what?
until i reach the hearts and mouths from whence they came. and then?
nothing and everything. only the knowledge that my desire continues to
expand until i can no longer touch the edges. and you. carved in stone
made flesh forever standing in the centre of the storm. so do it just
because. because of the flower in my hair. the silver wing around my
neck. because the blue changes shade dependent on her mood. because the
wind blows through the house and rattles all the windows. because we are
all corners and curves. not one or the other. but both. or none. do it
mouth to mouth and break the skin. do it because im cannibalistic in my
desire for offerings of blood and guts. deeper than transparent things
like raindrops and tears. because there are only so many times you will
see the moon full. do it only completely when you feel it pressed hard
against your edges. a haunting or possession tightly held by ghostly
hands. do it because to not is to lose it. because i want to see my
fingerprints everywhere...
sitting
by midnight lakes reflecting stars below and above it becomes
impossible to tell which way is up. once during a long lost night i
heard the wind, at least i think it was the wind, whisper my name. and
not even this name, but rather my real name. i am a
journey. a story. a circle. an ouroboros. harmony of asymmetry. so old i
am unable to tell you where i begin. contemplating cosmogony provokes
the longing to remember all of our explosions. reciting stories locked
in scars and chests where only angels dare to tread. both archer and
prey. i pray. i know not to whom, but i say thank you. alot. grateful
for having nothing and everything to learn. and LIFE. in which to leave
my map. my mark. my trail of meandering dirty footprints. i was here.
art work "second skin" by julie massy
thank you both
ReplyDeletecloud gatherer
and
julie for allowing me to post your beautiful works!
love
vibeke
"There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for its outlines all our lives. Those who are lucky enough to find it ease like water over a stone, onto its fluid contours, and are home. Some find it in the place of their birth; others may leave a seaside town, parched, and find themselves refreshed in the desert. There are those born in rolling countryside who are really only at ease in the intense and busy loneliness of the city. For some, the search is for the imprint of another; a child or a mother, a grandfather or a brother, a lover, a husband, a wife, or a foe. We may go through our lives happy or unhappy, successful or unfulfilled, loved or unloved, without ever standing cold with the shock of recognition, without ever feeling the agony as the twisted iron in our soul unlocks itself and we slip at last into place."
ReplyDelete— Josephine Hart
dearest v,
i wish i could offer you an armful of flowers, the light as i saw it on the sea today, a smile from these green eyes to your own, but "thank you" will have to do.
*
you have given me a deeply treasured gift:
Deleteyou have opened (and still are)
a "written world" for me that holds so much beauty and meaning that i am forever grateful.....so i am sending a "thank you" too!!: )
beautiful beaautiful words by hart!!!
Came on here from Cloud Gatherer's reference. Beautiful blog! Loved the "sitting by midnight lakes reflecting stars below". Took me down memory lane, that one.
ReplyDeletehow nice
Deletethat you stopped by zeebs!
I read this text late in the evening, I read it in the morning, and now when the sun is highest on the sky - I read it again.
ReplyDeleteIt is so very demanding, like a deep exhalation of everything eternal.
I like demanding, it's usually more rewarding.
I already know I will read it again.
As so often before, I thank you!
Love,
Lilli
lovely
ReplyDeletelilli
like you i always find myself coming back to read her words over and over again...
....it's like i am longing back for her words....a longing for everything i have already read of hers and also for everything she has still not written....
love
v