"Heaven has a road, but no one travels it; Hell has no gate, but men will bore through to get there."

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Friday, August 19, 2011

Where is mister Dave?
Concerns nothing without him...
Bah, frolic await!

Monday, August 15, 2011

Lightening in day,
Radiance displayed bright
In wind song smiling.

Monday, August 8, 2011

O how Night restores thy priestly glory!
(How deep Diana threads the onyx vest
that shrouds thee) Grave Apollo's hoary
steeds but mute the glimmer of thy breast,
thy vagrant lips, thy lilt of changing tongue
that sings a mythic language (all the rest
art earthly measures frail) How thou hast sprung
Upon the world thy gifts so lightly known;
how thou, defying Nature's muse, has flung
Thy blossom'd branch and cast thy weather'd stone
to darkness (and in darkness thou must be,
beyond my nascent soul) Thy beauty grown
with all the grandeur of Night's dappled sea,
with all the wonder thou bestows to me.


DLR

Friday, August 5, 2011

"Both Love and Freedom are indivisible... we need to stop hacking at them!"
Hmmm... bricks....
I had to love the pillow a bit while the bear was watching as I was lost in obsessive thoughts about licking along your shoulder blades before heading downward to other mysterious and delicious places. Must be summer in Chicago in August- or as Patsy Stone would put it "when everything is just on heat!" Tired of thinking as I have my whole life and rather just be consumed in the physical moment and BE. Head is tired, heart is hungry, soul is yearning for sublimity beyond the everyday mundane- where I usually can find the glory too-- but hard when unkempt, smelly and not extraordinary people with wet hair smelling of shaving cream and Pert+ and listening to god knows what Rhianna-like tonal sludge are too very near me. The Western slide from the "pillar of grace" as Marianne Faithfull calls it will only be slowed by a bit of the Apollonian w some Dionysian chocolate syrup on top... all of which is simply sublimation (that fucking Freud!) for the need of your scent, your eyes, the safety of your chest, the taste of your kisses, neck and your liquid heat dripping down my throat as I conjure images of what the bear and lamb will see when you are wrapped around and deep inside of me. >BOOM!!!< cxxxc Hope my iced mocha is really cold- whew! May sit there for a minute naming our offspring~~>!< Feeling very Market Days mayhem- getting my coffee at Belmont and already all about a Cesar's jumbo frozen rasp margarita!? And it's only 8:42! That or some crystal meth n a run through Byztwn to bite some cute byz on the ankles!! snap! mmmmmmm

Notable quotable o da day:

"The love of the Gods belongs to those who have given birth to truth and beauty and nourished them, and if any on earth could be immortal it is they." -Plato, Symposium

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

"I couldn't take anymore; I needed to 'marry the bed,' as Anne Sexton phrased it, when I got home. I want to drink of you with a thirst that is unquenchable, and then have you do the same. I want to lose control and drift out of the world. You could burn me to ash in your hands, and then breathe me in, if you wanted."