It takes a long time to discover yourself as having a soul. An exclusively religious concept more commonly spoken of as Self. I am unusual in that I am willing to discuss my bigotries and hypocrisies; the before, future and now. It is a personal truth that I seek mindfully -- itself a Buddhist concept.
When I awaken catching glimmers glances at what my dream dialogs were about; that enterprise is more revealing than what I write about . . . her hair was gold yet dense as her Iroquois father's black was or so she would inform me while I ran my fingers through her hair exclaiming in purrs and in passion I'd grasp in my fists pulling her onto me with vigor not grunting but growling thrusting.
Anais Nin a hero of mine once said you can learn a great deal via erotica.
Sexual fetishes are the most interesting, deeply buried and revealing: lubricity discovered in John Updike's, "Poor House Fair" still resides right up there with panties . . . laughing I thought about The Temple Veil rending at the moment of Jesus' death.
Lucy always gave as good as she got, measure for measure fully tamped down -- quid pro quo. Lucy was my nickname for her . . . I never had the heart to inform her that it was after Lucrezia Borgia and merely grinned when she though: "Lucy In The Sky with Diamonds."
Inquisitive or -- and/or -- inquisitional: both. . . .Maybe worse: the coral snake ready to bite your nipple . . Keeping a journal is ever renewing a pump once primed endless flowing the insides outward expanding. Characters in a novel then to take on their own identity . . . well . . . I guess in journals that is equally true but the truth of me, once listened to, blows me up and apart vaporizing all nice and snark. The nodal point quivers like a tuning fork then changes pitch: ecstatic or the Ice Man.
When she said; "I'm pregnant . . . " The Ice Man said not a word, did not blink like the snake I am or can be lidless eyes forked tongue about to flicker out and touch your terror. . . .And in that sentence realized that I was not the man my mother wanted me to be dressed up as a little girl for Halloween but the man she wanted my father to be.
The smoo, smuck, patsy, fatuous, flatulent, fallacious three-dollar-bill asshole was he. Could it be possibly maybe maybe not he was homosexual and denying it . . . a bassoon playing fagot?
Makes sense to me, how bout you? I was in the bathroom at age something--something and he came in saying, "take off your pajamas." Nude pressed up against the steam radiator, cold at the time--thank God, he fondled my penis saying; "Your mother is curious why the sheets are always clean; no wet dreams?" Fondle--fondle--fondle . . . LOL!
Hung like a horse . . . No! More like a mule . . . he made me walk about nude during our cruise around Tahiti for 3,500 miles!
. . . Jesus Dad! I'm like all young boys; a serial masturbator with mom's panties!!!! Very careful too!!! Kleenex my favorite stock holding before the assholes stole all my money . . . really it was all mom's money she left me. Standing naked in November the door locked behind me on cold brick terrace wicking up into my frozen in terror brain. U do know your brain is six to seven pounds of tofu? Yes? It is your mind that you have to take care of . . . to become conscious of or conscious of consciousness to be exact. And once you've taken an Xacto knife vivisecting that you find that your perceptions are skewed by what you want to see versus what is truth.
Oh sweet Jesus on a bobsled doing snow boarding flips maybe that's why the Pope put Him in diapers?
Ali, Ali, once you get to da panties, come home free . . . and to think, occasionally I'd call Lucy, Rapunzel let your hair down for me to climb the tower to thee. . . . always did like mannish women: assertive not aggressive like dear O'l Dad just your average closet Sodomite. . . .Mom a fag hag.
120920 02:41 blame
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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