Ah, the joy of friendship and the warmth that it brings. A true and fine heart of love in pure form. It is simply essence. Simply beautiful. The words strike a melody orchestrated in fine tune with human vibrations. Did you feel my heart? I have been a bad friend forgive me! The words written of in regard to not seeing or speaking with a friend does not diminish the friendship are mine and was sent back to me in excellent form. Friendship does warm the heart over all things as it is TRUE and unpretentious. What do we seek from one another? The sharing of color...the time when we blend yellow and red to form orange or red and blue to form purple? We then paint our world. What is our world from a philosophic standpoint? We, as creators, should know. Define and redefine over time...escape back into self...REALIZATION!
To cry out of emotion because of words spoken or written in honest and true form are best. Does that make romantic hearts? To some perhaps. Then again, what is romantic? It is defined different than it should be. Too honed to sex rather than merit with lines...fine lines joined specifically for poets, writers, and artists who understand the just difference. The just cause and causation and manifestation of real love.
How pure is pure? When seeking nothing but color from white which is light there is a spectrum. Within that spectrum lies purity and real love of the romantic because it is not superficial. Like a wound from a saber, it is deep and depth is always sought as it is greater than the shallow. Can the heart be found with a piece of cotton or a string when it cannot penetrate as the saber? Aye! However, one would have to learn the trade of understanding to find the value...the depth. Tis all a matter of perception. I have objectively looked over the words in type and hand form and found value to which I am subjective.
If the heart is an instrument of stringed precision, the chords have been struck in a mighty way awakening the sleep to see the greater light. It is good to be reminded of the real now and again by those that truly love us in kind for no reason other than they can. Within our bond lies humanity. To this I cry. ~ Maggie ~ September 24, 2008 @ 7:22 p.m. EST
I dedicate this to my sweet comrade.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
My Ex-Husband~
Normally I don't answer the phone if I don't recognize the number, but answer it I did. When he stated his name, I was like "Paul who?" At which point he gives me his last name. He called because he wants two things that are his and asked if I could return them to him. To this I agreed. He then stated that he no longer lives in the same town as I and asked if he could call me again. The simple answer to that question was a flat NO. I will find that which he asked for and give them to his sister, but I want no part of him. Do I hate or dislike the man? No. I absolutely have NO feelings toward him whatsoever. It happens. ~ Maggie ~ September 20, 2008 @ 8:28 p.m. EST
NOTE: My ex-husband was my first love. We dated from the time I was 17 until I was 21. He dumped me for someone else who wound up dumping him. As I held no ill feeling for him, we did communicate as friends even after I moved to NY. We did not meet again until 2002. In 2003 we married. In 2005 I filed for divorce and it was granted in 2006. I had not heard from the bugger since I threw his ass out in 2005 and I don't expect to hear from him again. Tis best that way. ~ September 20, 2008
NOTE: My ex-husband was my first love. We dated from the time I was 17 until I was 21. He dumped me for someone else who wound up dumping him. As I held no ill feeling for him, we did communicate as friends even after I moved to NY. We did not meet again until 2002. In 2003 we married. In 2005 I filed for divorce and it was granted in 2006. I had not heard from the bugger since I threw his ass out in 2005 and I don't expect to hear from him again. Tis best that way. ~ September 20, 2008
Good Intent With Positive Vibrations = Love
When an act is done with good intent in a positive manner, love is developed in a rational way. A love that can be spoken of freely as it is not pretentious as neither party seeks to gain anything.. There are many levels of the “L” word, but many over use the term or simply do not mean what they say. It is called exploitation of meaning.
Last eve, I think it was last eve, based on the words of a wise and wonderful (married) woman, I freely told her that although I don’t know her and probably never will, I love her. What evoked this emotion? A sharing of the best kind. We were two humans being two humans with each other. This type of love is long lasting and real unlike that of Eros. Granted there is no physical contact other than the reaching out in the virtual world and connecting via words. It is the words that were transmitted that provided us each with a greater something in equal parts to equal parties. I guess what I am saying is that to love, one does not have to see the individual. The feeling evoked is what makes it so and what keeps it in your heart.
Friendship has great rewards and should be valued in high regard. It is with this intent and positive vibration that change will occur. I will make love real in the way it should be and not the way it is deemed. For at that point, I can say it with full heart “I love you” and for no other reason than the fact that I do. What are friends for? ~ Maggie ~ September 20, 2008 @ 4:44 p.m. EST
Last eve, I think it was last eve, based on the words of a wise and wonderful (married) woman, I freely told her that although I don’t know her and probably never will, I love her. What evoked this emotion? A sharing of the best kind. We were two humans being two humans with each other. This type of love is long lasting and real unlike that of Eros. Granted there is no physical contact other than the reaching out in the virtual world and connecting via words. It is the words that were transmitted that provided us each with a greater something in equal parts to equal parties. I guess what I am saying is that to love, one does not have to see the individual. The feeling evoked is what makes it so and what keeps it in your heart.
Friendship has great rewards and should be valued in high regard. It is with this intent and positive vibration that change will occur. I will make love real in the way it should be and not the way it is deemed. For at that point, I can say it with full heart “I love you” and for no other reason than the fact that I do. What are friends for? ~ Maggie ~ September 20, 2008 @ 4:44 p.m. EST
Friday, September 19, 2008
Unus Vivus
Connected to self in all directions
Oh the feeling the cold of the water
Splash upon me...it is time!
All switches come in on and off positions
As all is yin and yang
Tactical and practical
Where lies my position best?
It lies in within the part that is disconnected
Rely on thy foundation I say to self
Aye, I will ~ Maggie ~ September 19, 2008 @ 10:09 p.m. EST
In nomine magni dei nostri satanas. Introibo ad altare domini inferi. Ad eum qui laefificat meum. Adjutorium nostrum in nomine domini inferi. Qui regit terram.
I AM JOKING AREN'T I? Be thee my judge.
Oh the feeling the cold of the water
Splash upon me...it is time!
All switches come in on and off positions
As all is yin and yang
Tactical and practical
Where lies my position best?
It lies in within the part that is disconnected
Rely on thy foundation I say to self
Aye, I will ~ Maggie ~ September 19, 2008 @ 10:09 p.m. EST
In nomine magni dei nostri satanas. Introibo ad altare domini inferi. Ad eum qui laefificat meum. Adjutorium nostrum in nomine domini inferi. Qui regit terram.
I AM JOKING AREN'T I? Be thee my judge.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
When one does not dream in the night...
It is a sad state that my night dreams are squelched by the pills that I must drop. Drop them I do so that I may find sleep as sleep does not find me. Aye, days could go by and I would not know as I would be too busy absorbing, creating, interacting, reacting, unconscious and conscious...too busy to note the passing of time. When time stops supposedly making way for dreams, it happens not. My dreams occur during my waking hours and come to me quite vivid in color and tone. There are times when I interact with my dream and it interacts with me. The funny thing is that within the dream of day, the normal surroundings do not disappear. Nay! They lie there as they always do yet I see beyond what is into something else that lives. Sometimes the dream is a like a play in which I see characters and listen to dialogue in another world or this world in another time and space. It is as though the performance that is viewed is acted out for me as though I were a great patron of the arts. The surprise of the performance is that I can participate. Do I create the scenes? I can’t really say that I do as they just come to me and show themselves. Often I run for a sheet of paper to capture the happenings, but as the happenings do not stop, I can only capture but a bit.
Dreams are not limited to the visions of love, beauty, and stories. The dreams include talking to the birds, wind, sky, water, clouds, rain, sun, moon, grass, rocks et al. Am I dreaming at this point? No. I am doing. I am doing what I feel is natural and beautiful. During these times there is great love and beauty, but the story is fact. I do these things. Perhaps what I put out is returned to me through my daydreams visions of story book proportions. What must I do to get to the epic tale? I suppose that too will come naturally. It is only hoped that in some form or another, I can share my world with another or others in real-life form via the spoken word and warmth. Then again, perhaps that is not meant to be. Once again I state, for all things a purpose and a purpose for all things. I shall find my way. Better yet, my dreams will find me. ~ Maggie ~ September 18, 2008 @ 6:26 p.m. EST
Dreams are not limited to the visions of love, beauty, and stories. The dreams include talking to the birds, wind, sky, water, clouds, rain, sun, moon, grass, rocks et al. Am I dreaming at this point? No. I am doing. I am doing what I feel is natural and beautiful. During these times there is great love and beauty, but the story is fact. I do these things. Perhaps what I put out is returned to me through my daydreams visions of story book proportions. What must I do to get to the epic tale? I suppose that too will come naturally. It is only hoped that in some form or another, I can share my world with another or others in real-life form via the spoken word and warmth. Then again, perhaps that is not meant to be. Once again I state, for all things a purpose and a purpose for all things. I shall find my way. Better yet, my dreams will find me. ~ Maggie ~ September 18, 2008 @ 6:26 p.m. EST
The Greatest of Loves and Beauties...
The greatest of loves and beauties lies within the mind and the imagination. The scope of which is unparallel. What keeps me from the total incorporation of the land on the other side is my physical form. Alas, in the physical I am solid, but not as I am but atoms as are all things. The escape into fantasy brings tears of joy and tears of sorrow but with the greatest of passion. Unfortunately, I cannot find that passion in this sphere as it escapes me so. Perhaps the physical is a curse to educate via lessons well served and learned through our own endeavors. We are the creators of our past and future. You may ask about the our present. Frankly, the present never is as it falls behind even as we recognize its existence...it is past. The moment is so transient it might not well exist. However, it does. The fact that we remember its passing even if the memory is sub-conscious, it lies within us and is part of our makeup.
The love and beauty that lies in my head will one day find me without my solidity and I will so gladly welcome it. Perhaps I will be that which I was within and above the snail. I know not what I was, but I was. Oh joy! To be as such again releasing me from that which is. I welcome thee oh love...I welcome thee oh beauty. Take me! ~ Maggie ~ September 18, 2008 @ 5:21 p.m. EST
NOTE: It should be noted that I could never release the full scope of my imagination as it is too vast for parchment.
The love and beauty that lies in my head will one day find me without my solidity and I will so gladly welcome it. Perhaps I will be that which I was within and above the snail. I know not what I was, but I was. Oh joy! To be as such again releasing me from that which is. I welcome thee oh love...I welcome thee oh beauty. Take me! ~ Maggie ~ September 18, 2008 @ 5:21 p.m. EST
NOTE: It should be noted that I could never release the full scope of my imagination as it is too vast for parchment.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Correspondence between "Alice" and I BEFORE the crash of 2008
Correspondence between "Alice" and I BEFORE the crash of 2008
by Arachne on Thursday, September 16, 2008 at 8:01pm
FROM ME TO ALICE: Just out of curiosity, you too see a stock market crash in the near future don't you? In your eyes, do you see it as worse than that of '29? I do. ~ Maggie * Sep 16, 2008 6:08pm
FROM ALICE TO ME: I think there's going to be hell to pay, yes, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who sees a 'crash' coming. It will be interesting this time around as most of the mfg that was once done in the US has been outsourced, including raw materials (How much steel does the US make these days?) The fact that the World's money system is so interwoven could either compound the severity of whatever 'depression' comes about or could, in fact, soften the effect. One thing is for certain, however, that America will not come out on 'top' this time. Our government and our corporations owe too many foreign banks too much money. When "someone" forecloses on the Federal Reserve it is not going to be pleasant. What is not being bandied about right now is the fact that China cannot continue to 'grow'; problems with the US are going to tear into that economy and the dominoes will likely fall from there. The only really 'mature' gov't that will be able to take advantage of a world depression will probably be Russia. Their military is not over-extended; they have strong alliances with many countries that we have pissed off; their banks own a lot of portfolios that originated in the USA. If the American middle and lower classes are going to be able to save themselves through this, we all need to come together as small, sustainable groups and carry each other through. And I certainly don't mean religious groups, though there will be those, no doubt. We need to be able to grow food, purify water, build a power grid and create renewable energy, get rid of garbage and sewage - all the things that gov't does for us now that they won't be able to do when they are bankrupt. Kinda makes good, old-fashioned 'Communism' look pretty appealing right about now, doesn't it? * Sep 16, 2008 6:33pm
FROM ME TO ALICE: Thank you for your response as it is greatly appreciated.
Anyone who knows a tad of history or economics will see it. Then again, who are those people? Are we talking about those who are plugged in or those who have unplugged? As you know, manufacturing has moved because labor is cheap aborad. Also, it also fuels fire within Americans who believe that foreigners have stolen American jobs which is really not the case, but it does cause division of American against American of that race. The corporations are greedy that is why they have moved for cheap labor. As for the state of the United States, it has become a service industry and that is about it. We don't produce, we just consume.
This is what I see coming. Companies are going to bottom out due to various reasons and the dollar value will drop (as it has been). Loans will be called in from the top to the bottom which means that all will suffer. The middle class and some of the upper class are going to lose their shorts. Chances are the poor are not indebted to the creditors, however, will they have a job or will a welfare system be able to support those without means? Also, what about the value of money held in bank accounts? It is just numbers and NOT cash. Will ALL of it be available to the depositors? The answer is NO.
The corporations that are able to maintain themselves will buy up the devalued stock, take over the company(ies) and release a majority of the employees. In order to feed themselves, people will revert to theft (providing someone is producing and selling food). There will be an increase in crime be it violent or otherwise.
Russia...interesting that you should bring Russia up. They do have natural resources, but they too are in a capitalist state. Where has America not touched? As for China goes, their elite have rather large investments in the United States as do other countries. The Fed could print more bucks, but what would the value be? Would one need a wheelbarrow of cash to buy a loaf of bread?
Actually, what would be ideal is a state of anarchy, but not one of chaos. Anarchy is not chaos unless you are a fanatic and then it is a gap for another form of dictatorship. A self-reliant global tribal system of united humans would be ideal, but I am then talking about utopia. In utopia, people help each other. There is no police, no military, no war, no hunger. Do you believe me to be an idealist? ~ Maggie * Sep 17, 2008 2:57pm
FROM ALICE TO ME: Idealism has flowed through my veins for as long as I can remember; I've long believed that a 'revolution' of sorts will be the only way back out of the pit. And you are correct: Anarchy does not have to be chaos. I do believe, however, that some sort of 'government' is necessary, at least guidelines that people have to follow. Americans have too long been told that they are 'free to do whatever ...' which is simply not true. This is the part of Ron Paul's message that I cannot stomach. Most people have common sense and can develop a sense of common good, but there are many who are already too tribal, too self-centered, too religion-centric to be able to live in a true Libertarian society. Those people will always pray on those whom they consider to be depraved unbelievers, and there will always be enmity between groups because of this.
I think this is why I am so intrigued by Barack Obama. He's not the Messiah, certainly - that is a ludicrous statement. But he does have a very pragmatic, mature and idealistic vision of what America could be if we all grew up and cooperated with each other. Respect for all other people is a large part of his message, and I do not believe that the religionists can let go of their delusions and show respect for any but 'their own'.
It may be that this Nation needs to be divided somehow, where those of one particular slant can govern themselves without interference from the "other side". I think that is possible, except for the money-mongers and their minion (the lobbyists) who would fight tooth and nail to prevent a peaceful settlement of ideals. Sadly, in so-called conservative America, it has become something of an "all-or-nothing" mindset, and as a group these people seem willing to destroy the 'whole' rather than co-exist. A lot of their fanaticism is driven and fired by the MSM (who are owned by conservatives) and by Wall Street - also owned by the conservative lobby. * Sep 17, 2008 4:22pm
by Arachne on Thursday, September 16, 2008 at 8:01pm
FROM ME TO ALICE: Just out of curiosity, you too see a stock market crash in the near future don't you? In your eyes, do you see it as worse than that of '29? I do. ~ Maggie * Sep 16, 2008 6:08pm
FROM ALICE TO ME: I think there's going to be hell to pay, yes, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who sees a 'crash' coming. It will be interesting this time around as most of the mfg that was once done in the US has been outsourced, including raw materials (How much steel does the US make these days?) The fact that the World's money system is so interwoven could either compound the severity of whatever 'depression' comes about or could, in fact, soften the effect. One thing is for certain, however, that America will not come out on 'top' this time. Our government and our corporations owe too many foreign banks too much money. When "someone" forecloses on the Federal Reserve it is not going to be pleasant. What is not being bandied about right now is the fact that China cannot continue to 'grow'; problems with the US are going to tear into that economy and the dominoes will likely fall from there. The only really 'mature' gov't that will be able to take advantage of a world depression will probably be Russia. Their military is not over-extended; they have strong alliances with many countries that we have pissed off; their banks own a lot of portfolios that originated in the USA. If the American middle and lower classes are going to be able to save themselves through this, we all need to come together as small, sustainable groups and carry each other through. And I certainly don't mean religious groups, though there will be those, no doubt. We need to be able to grow food, purify water, build a power grid and create renewable energy, get rid of garbage and sewage - all the things that gov't does for us now that they won't be able to do when they are bankrupt. Kinda makes good, old-fashioned 'Communism' look pretty appealing right about now, doesn't it? * Sep 16, 2008 6:33pm
FROM ME TO ALICE: Thank you for your response as it is greatly appreciated.
Anyone who knows a tad of history or economics will see it. Then again, who are those people? Are we talking about those who are plugged in or those who have unplugged? As you know, manufacturing has moved because labor is cheap aborad. Also, it also fuels fire within Americans who believe that foreigners have stolen American jobs which is really not the case, but it does cause division of American against American of that race. The corporations are greedy that is why they have moved for cheap labor. As for the state of the United States, it has become a service industry and that is about it. We don't produce, we just consume.
This is what I see coming. Companies are going to bottom out due to various reasons and the dollar value will drop (as it has been). Loans will be called in from the top to the bottom which means that all will suffer. The middle class and some of the upper class are going to lose their shorts. Chances are the poor are not indebted to the creditors, however, will they have a job or will a welfare system be able to support those without means? Also, what about the value of money held in bank accounts? It is just numbers and NOT cash. Will ALL of it be available to the depositors? The answer is NO.
The corporations that are able to maintain themselves will buy up the devalued stock, take over the company(ies) and release a majority of the employees. In order to feed themselves, people will revert to theft (providing someone is producing and selling food). There will be an increase in crime be it violent or otherwise.
Russia...interesting that you should bring Russia up. They do have natural resources, but they too are in a capitalist state. Where has America not touched? As for China goes, their elite have rather large investments in the United States as do other countries. The Fed could print more bucks, but what would the value be? Would one need a wheelbarrow of cash to buy a loaf of bread?
Actually, what would be ideal is a state of anarchy, but not one of chaos. Anarchy is not chaos unless you are a fanatic and then it is a gap for another form of dictatorship. A self-reliant global tribal system of united humans would be ideal, but I am then talking about utopia. In utopia, people help each other. There is no police, no military, no war, no hunger. Do you believe me to be an idealist? ~ Maggie * Sep 17, 2008 2:57pm
FROM ALICE TO ME: Idealism has flowed through my veins for as long as I can remember; I've long believed that a 'revolution' of sorts will be the only way back out of the pit. And you are correct: Anarchy does not have to be chaos. I do believe, however, that some sort of 'government' is necessary, at least guidelines that people have to follow. Americans have too long been told that they are 'free to do whatever ...' which is simply not true. This is the part of Ron Paul's message that I cannot stomach. Most people have common sense and can develop a sense of common good, but there are many who are already too tribal, too self-centered, too religion-centric to be able to live in a true Libertarian society. Those people will always pray on those whom they consider to be depraved unbelievers, and there will always be enmity between groups because of this.
I think this is why I am so intrigued by Barack Obama. He's not the Messiah, certainly - that is a ludicrous statement. But he does have a very pragmatic, mature and idealistic vision of what America could be if we all grew up and cooperated with each other. Respect for all other people is a large part of his message, and I do not believe that the religionists can let go of their delusions and show respect for any but 'their own'.
It may be that this Nation needs to be divided somehow, where those of one particular slant can govern themselves without interference from the "other side". I think that is possible, except for the money-mongers and their minion (the lobbyists) who would fight tooth and nail to prevent a peaceful settlement of ideals. Sadly, in so-called conservative America, it has become something of an "all-or-nothing" mindset, and as a group these people seem willing to destroy the 'whole' rather than co-exist. A lot of their fanaticism is driven and fired by the MSM (who are owned by conservatives) and by Wall Street - also owned by the conservative lobby. * Sep 17, 2008 4:22pm
Sentimental Sediment
The sediment had not risen for it had not been disturbed for a bit
However, the stir caused the waters to cloud
And the stream bottom could not be observed
Sentimental is the sediment
Thus it should have laid resting
Tis my own folly that created the cloud
To folly once more
Once more
To lay it to rest
Albeit in the cold clear water
Warm water creates quickened particle movement ~ Arachne ~ 9/16/08 @ 4:10 PM
However, the stir caused the waters to cloud
And the stream bottom could not be observed
Sentimental is the sediment
Thus it should have laid resting
Tis my own folly that created the cloud
To folly once more
Once more
To lay it to rest
Albeit in the cold clear water
Warm water creates quickened particle movement ~ Arachne ~ 9/16/08 @ 4:10 PM
The Ideal of the Snail’s Compass
Sure I have been to see the snail, however, my form is unknown. How is it that I could observe from above and see it glide over and above the sea-foam green waters that do not conform to a regular wave motion but clash upon themselves like negatively reflected fives or Cs. Not only did I play witness to its movement from above, I was also privy to within. Why pray tell did the occupants dress in similar garb and why were there no individual shelters there?
I still remember the inner swirls of the shell and the rainbow or have you abalone features to it. What a wonderful display of color on not so white. Ah yes! Let me not forget the sky. Purple was its color which magnified the green foam waters. What did really escape my vision was the tower. Yes I did see it looming in the distance in all its splendid glory, but from no land did it come. Frankly, the tower with its Russian topped cap was more at smoke or lit mist in that it was not a solid object. Try as I might to glance ahead to see if a wall was attached, the vision was kept from me.
The snail, other than being large enough to hold a population of individuals, was just a snail. The birds on the other hand had an interesting feature in that they were rainbow colored gliders. Rainbow gliders who flapped not. I wonder if it is safe to say that land does not exist in this domain where the snail hails? It is only my observation to state that no land was seen. Then again was the snail merely a transport vehicle and hence the reason no shelters existed for the purpose of individual privacy?
If I, in whatever form that I may have been, was able to be without and within the snail, what might I have been? As I saw, I would assume that I had eyes to see. As I wondered and pondered, I assume that I had a brain to think. As I was within the snail, I was smaller than it was. As I was above it, perhaps I was flying. Then again, the bird of great size would not be able to enter within the snail nor were other birds observed within. Besides, how could I go from hovering above to hovering within without noting the penetration of the shell? Why was my presence not observed by the inhabitants who needed for nothing?
The vision came sometime ago, but the idea keeps returning. It is not only the idea, but also the vision as I remembered it. Memory - I did have a voice as I had asked to see more. Specifically, I wanted to see my way beyond the tower. However, my request only brought about the appearance of a bird/being in my path that completely obscured the vision.
Allow me to see it again! Return me there so that I may know more about that which I have described and more about that I which I am in the scope of it all. ~ Maggie ~ Penned Sept. 16, 2008 prior to 3:00 p.m. EST.
I still remember the inner swirls of the shell and the rainbow or have you abalone features to it. What a wonderful display of color on not so white. Ah yes! Let me not forget the sky. Purple was its color which magnified the green foam waters. What did really escape my vision was the tower. Yes I did see it looming in the distance in all its splendid glory, but from no land did it come. Frankly, the tower with its Russian topped cap was more at smoke or lit mist in that it was not a solid object. Try as I might to glance ahead to see if a wall was attached, the vision was kept from me.
The snail, other than being large enough to hold a population of individuals, was just a snail. The birds on the other hand had an interesting feature in that they were rainbow colored gliders. Rainbow gliders who flapped not. I wonder if it is safe to say that land does not exist in this domain where the snail hails? It is only my observation to state that no land was seen. Then again was the snail merely a transport vehicle and hence the reason no shelters existed for the purpose of individual privacy?
If I, in whatever form that I may have been, was able to be without and within the snail, what might I have been? As I saw, I would assume that I had eyes to see. As I wondered and pondered, I assume that I had a brain to think. As I was within the snail, I was smaller than it was. As I was above it, perhaps I was flying. Then again, the bird of great size would not be able to enter within the snail nor were other birds observed within. Besides, how could I go from hovering above to hovering within without noting the penetration of the shell? Why was my presence not observed by the inhabitants who needed for nothing?
The vision came sometime ago, but the idea keeps returning. It is not only the idea, but also the vision as I remembered it. Memory - I did have a voice as I had asked to see more. Specifically, I wanted to see my way beyond the tower. However, my request only brought about the appearance of a bird/being in my path that completely obscured the vision.
Allow me to see it again! Return me there so that I may know more about that which I have described and more about that I which I am in the scope of it all. ~ Maggie ~ Penned Sept. 16, 2008 prior to 3:00 p.m. EST.
Monday, September 15, 2008
I Named it Not~
Oh the naming! It needed a name, but I named it not. Through a volley of words a name was given by another. A name that I had to clarify and verify. Indeed I now know its precise meaning, but I did understand the word based on usage by others. However, what is the value? Would not comrade, friend, brother, (fellow) human, or pal have bore more merit? Me thinks yes. As those words do not contain within the definition of their name OR. When dealing with OR, I am looking at one thing or another as the word is either one thing or the anther, but it is NOT both. There is magick in words.
To settle on the definition is not in me, but friendship is. With friendship lies an everlasting bond of real love.
Of all things there is two sides
Love can go unloved
Friendship can go un-befriended
But if maintained within ONE
It becomes whole and held in heart
It is there that superficiality is diminished for depth ~ Maggie ~ Sept. 15, 2008 @ 7:53 p.m. EST
To settle on the definition is not in me, but friendship is. With friendship lies an everlasting bond of real love.
Of all things there is two sides
Love can go unloved
Friendship can go un-befriended
But if maintained within ONE
It becomes whole and held in heart
It is there that superficiality is diminished for depth ~ Maggie ~ Sept. 15, 2008 @ 7:53 p.m. EST
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Vulcan Sun
Radiant art thou of King of day
Hanging in majestic splendor for all to see
East to west you move lovingly
Casting warm shadows as you wander
Be thee high or be thee low
Thou art there!
Thou can even be seen as a reflection upon the moon
Wind of might hear my call
Bring love and peace to us all
None are greater and non are less
Whisper the words as you softly caress
Surround the walker, the rider, the runner
Astound the boater, the climber, the hunter
Earth, wind, water, fire, electric
All things grow from the womb ~ Maggie ~ Sept. 14, 2008 @ 11:01 p.m. EST
Hanging in majestic splendor for all to see
East to west you move lovingly
Casting warm shadows as you wander
Be thee high or be thee low
Thou art there!
Thou can even be seen as a reflection upon the moon
Wind of might hear my call
Bring love and peace to us all
None are greater and non are less
Whisper the words as you softly caress
Surround the walker, the rider, the runner
Astound the boater, the climber, the hunter
Earth, wind, water, fire, electric
All things grow from the womb ~ Maggie ~ Sept. 14, 2008 @ 11:01 p.m. EST
Self-Experiment
For this experiment, I use SELF. All too often I have relied on past events to adjust myself to one pain or another–fixing it so that a shut-off occurs and feelings are not had. Calling on past experience(s), the self connects with the greatest previous pain of the same course and then chooses to accept, ease, or erase the pain. This experiment will show me that I can remove the feeling of love. Sex and love are one and the same to me as to have sex without love is COLD. An experiment was performed on another to verify my assumption.
In this case I will remove the love factor and see if it has any affect on self. Will I be cold? How will my response be? Will the other notice? He named it and claimed it for what he sees it as, but when it is actually what he named it, will he like me? ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. EST September 14, 2008
NOTE: I did not do the experiment.
In this case I will remove the love factor and see if it has any affect on self. Will I be cold? How will my response be? Will the other notice? He named it and claimed it for what he sees it as, but when it is actually what he named it, will he like me? ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. EST September 14, 2008
NOTE: I did not do the experiment.
Sent to **** via e-mail on Saturday, January 3, 2009
Dear ****,
What you read was written after I saw you in August/September. Realize that I also saw you in October, November and December. The feelings and words are a story to myself that I had not typed until now. Many details are missing, but not forgotten. So that you know, I often write stories of my life to remind myself in hard copy of initial feelings and see if my feelings change over time in further literature. Then again, it sometimes transports me back to those initial feelings for examination/reflection. I guess you can say I am showing you my private journal. This was never going to make a blog as it was mine for me. I now share it with you.
My Story:
I am inside myself screaming my head off. The sheer volume is a release of sorts, but not that which I wish. Confusion is not present nor is hostility. What is present is the fruitless nature of it all. Fruitless in that nothing will become of it. It saddens me, but then again I knew before leaping. I saw. No it does not make me a fool for falling. How the hell am I supposed to learn if I don’t fall? Frankly, there is more to this than I am saying, but why should I bore you. Do you want to be bored? If you do read on as I will spill my guts.
Not too long ago, around the middle of July, I was off from home on a solo adventure. My adventure was to take in the beauty that I had seen a year earlier, but with a slightly different twist and a longer duration. It is my nature to go off and do as I wish and so it was done. As usual, nothing was really planned even when I got there. The event book was looked over and then lost (*edit-I found it.) as schedules do suck. To stumble across a matter of interest is far greater than to hone it to time constructs and decisions of this or that due to overlaps. Boo, hiss, and spit on that.
Upon my arrival, the first thing I did was set up my tent with the help of a sweet woman named Pearl. Upon its completion, I set myself into motion to explore my surroundings. Although I was only at it for a few hours, I had been up for several days and drove over nine hours to get there. Therefore, upon feeling a bit weary, I laid myself down within my tent only to wake to the rain coming in. After closing up, back to sleep I went until the following day.
When I woke and ventured out I had the opportunity to talk to folks I had not seen for a year and to also meet others. My time was spent wandering in and out of vendor areas, taking pictures, and stopping by when a workshop caught my ear. All was grand!
I believe I did this type of activity for two days, but then again I really don’t keep track of time. Books were brought with me so that I could wander off into another place while never leaving my site or my chair. Let me call that down time or brain adventure.
One night I remember going to the fire with John only to lose myself in the gazing of stars and the sparks of the fire that flew in a spiral manner above the main flame. It was not the event at the moment that held my mind, rather it was what was above that was shining brightly and calling me back to my tent to place to paper. Unfortunately, the ideas and feelings never made it beyond the spoken words that I spoke to myself within my confines. What can I say except that perhaps those words were never meant for paper.
I first saw him in a workshop, but as much as I did not want to see (hell I even removed my glasses), I absorbed him very silently remembering almost every detail of him. Although I cannot say with certainty when he invited me to his area (look for the dragon flag), I had no intention of going. My being was telling me steer clear and so I listened to self (*edit - I feared you (my feelings for you) hence the panic attacks.). Again time is an issue here. I remember seeing him walk by and we acknowledged each other with a nod. I was sitting in the grass with John discussing philosophy before heading off to the fire with him only to have my head send me back to camp. Remember I mentioned the stars called more loudly than the event?
Perhaps it was on the following day that he invited me to a BBQ that I had no intention of attending. Why? How would I know when 6:00 is? Besides, my being was saying - steer clear.
I remember that before I went off to read Virgil in the comfort of my chair, I was greatly entertained by K**** K**** with songs, jokes, and stories of pirates. My heart was so enjoying the moment as were all those who participated. To be honest, I don’t know how long that event lasted nor do I know at what time I went off to read, however, I was caught by he who caught my eye reading my book aloud and to myself. Oh the shock of it all. It was BBQ time and I followed him off to his camp to help with the fire.
There were six of us (Nomad, Liz, David, Adam, Me, Heather) attending the BBQ that evening and we were all buddies. Just a group of people hanging, talking, and sharing. I remember that he had gone off to do his job and Heather and I cleaned up and I put the fire out and went to clean myself off and change my clothes. Not for anything, but I was dirty from kneeling on the ground, breaking and chopping wood, and sweating profusely.
Upon cleaning myself and changing, off to the larger fire I went. It was not the grand fire, but it was a fire and I was wherever I was not looking for him and not really looking to be found. I just was there. What happened afterwards is that we did hook up and went to hang at his tent.
To my own words I did not listen “Follow your reason as the mind as the mind is greater than the body.” Why I did not listen to my head is because my heart was speaking as well. They (*edit - your being and my heart) kind of ganged up on my mind and thus my mind was overruled. What should be noted is that my mind knew something and was sending me flash words of warning. These flash words came based on data being absorbed at the moment, but did I listen to self? NO!
Regardless of going against myself and knowing that in the long run (which is really short) I would hurt myself. I can’t say that I would want to trash the experience. The experience was a good one and my time was filled with joy, play, and laughter. Regrettably, this was a limited venture. Fortunately, I would see him again in a few week’s time.
My venture to New York was two fold and he was the second fold as my daughter was the first. Spending time with him in real world was just as grand as it was in adventure world, but this too was a limited venture. The hurt in leaving made me want to hurry off as soon as possible so that I would not cry. I did cry though. I had also cried the night before as I truly felt heartsick.
To venture out again is coming up shortly, but I don’t want to leave with that sick feeling. Sure there is joy in the moment while there, but then the moment is gone and my truth comes up behind me and kicks me in the ass.
The truth is I want a partner for life–a person who is my friend and my mate. A person whom I can share my life and love with. A person with whom can share the same with me. Perhaps that is a great deal to seek in another and perhaps I will never find it. Then again it is all about risk–the risk is all or nothing.
In the words of Samuel Butler: It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all. He and I will be friends. ~ Written in Early September 2008.
What you read was written after I saw you in August/September. Realize that I also saw you in October, November and December. The feelings and words are a story to myself that I had not typed until now. Many details are missing, but not forgotten. So that you know, I often write stories of my life to remind myself in hard copy of initial feelings and see if my feelings change over time in further literature. Then again, it sometimes transports me back to those initial feelings for examination/reflection. I guess you can say I am showing you my private journal. This was never going to make a blog as it was mine for me. I now share it with you.
My Story:
I am inside myself screaming my head off. The sheer volume is a release of sorts, but not that which I wish. Confusion is not present nor is hostility. What is present is the fruitless nature of it all. Fruitless in that nothing will become of it. It saddens me, but then again I knew before leaping. I saw. No it does not make me a fool for falling. How the hell am I supposed to learn if I don’t fall? Frankly, there is more to this than I am saying, but why should I bore you. Do you want to be bored? If you do read on as I will spill my guts.
Not too long ago, around the middle of July, I was off from home on a solo adventure. My adventure was to take in the beauty that I had seen a year earlier, but with a slightly different twist and a longer duration. It is my nature to go off and do as I wish and so it was done. As usual, nothing was really planned even when I got there. The event book was looked over and then lost (*edit-I found it.) as schedules do suck. To stumble across a matter of interest is far greater than to hone it to time constructs and decisions of this or that due to overlaps. Boo, hiss, and spit on that.
Upon my arrival, the first thing I did was set up my tent with the help of a sweet woman named Pearl. Upon its completion, I set myself into motion to explore my surroundings. Although I was only at it for a few hours, I had been up for several days and drove over nine hours to get there. Therefore, upon feeling a bit weary, I laid myself down within my tent only to wake to the rain coming in. After closing up, back to sleep I went until the following day.
When I woke and ventured out I had the opportunity to talk to folks I had not seen for a year and to also meet others. My time was spent wandering in and out of vendor areas, taking pictures, and stopping by when a workshop caught my ear. All was grand!
I believe I did this type of activity for two days, but then again I really don’t keep track of time. Books were brought with me so that I could wander off into another place while never leaving my site or my chair. Let me call that down time or brain adventure.
One night I remember going to the fire with John only to lose myself in the gazing of stars and the sparks of the fire that flew in a spiral manner above the main flame. It was not the event at the moment that held my mind, rather it was what was above that was shining brightly and calling me back to my tent to place to paper. Unfortunately, the ideas and feelings never made it beyond the spoken words that I spoke to myself within my confines. What can I say except that perhaps those words were never meant for paper.
I first saw him in a workshop, but as much as I did not want to see (hell I even removed my glasses), I absorbed him very silently remembering almost every detail of him. Although I cannot say with certainty when he invited me to his area (look for the dragon flag), I had no intention of going. My being was telling me steer clear and so I listened to self (*edit - I feared you (my feelings for you) hence the panic attacks.). Again time is an issue here. I remember seeing him walk by and we acknowledged each other with a nod. I was sitting in the grass with John discussing philosophy before heading off to the fire with him only to have my head send me back to camp. Remember I mentioned the stars called more loudly than the event?
Perhaps it was on the following day that he invited me to a BBQ that I had no intention of attending. Why? How would I know when 6:00 is? Besides, my being was saying - steer clear.
I remember that before I went off to read Virgil in the comfort of my chair, I was greatly entertained by K**** K**** with songs, jokes, and stories of pirates. My heart was so enjoying the moment as were all those who participated. To be honest, I don’t know how long that event lasted nor do I know at what time I went off to read, however, I was caught by he who caught my eye reading my book aloud and to myself. Oh the shock of it all. It was BBQ time and I followed him off to his camp to help with the fire.
There were six of us (Nomad, Liz, David, Adam, Me, Heather) attending the BBQ that evening and we were all buddies. Just a group of people hanging, talking, and sharing. I remember that he had gone off to do his job and Heather and I cleaned up and I put the fire out and went to clean myself off and change my clothes. Not for anything, but I was dirty from kneeling on the ground, breaking and chopping wood, and sweating profusely.
Upon cleaning myself and changing, off to the larger fire I went. It was not the grand fire, but it was a fire and I was wherever I was not looking for him and not really looking to be found. I just was there. What happened afterwards is that we did hook up and went to hang at his tent.
To my own words I did not listen “Follow your reason as the mind as the mind is greater than the body.” Why I did not listen to my head is because my heart was speaking as well. They (*edit - your being and my heart) kind of ganged up on my mind and thus my mind was overruled. What should be noted is that my mind knew something and was sending me flash words of warning. These flash words came based on data being absorbed at the moment, but did I listen to self? NO!
Regardless of going against myself and knowing that in the long run (which is really short) I would hurt myself. I can’t say that I would want to trash the experience. The experience was a good one and my time was filled with joy, play, and laughter. Regrettably, this was a limited venture. Fortunately, I would see him again in a few week’s time.
My venture to New York was two fold and he was the second fold as my daughter was the first. Spending time with him in real world was just as grand as it was in adventure world, but this too was a limited venture. The hurt in leaving made me want to hurry off as soon as possible so that I would not cry. I did cry though. I had also cried the night before as I truly felt heartsick.
To venture out again is coming up shortly, but I don’t want to leave with that sick feeling. Sure there is joy in the moment while there, but then the moment is gone and my truth comes up behind me and kicks me in the ass.
The truth is I want a partner for life–a person who is my friend and my mate. A person whom I can share my life and love with. A person with whom can share the same with me. Perhaps that is a great deal to seek in another and perhaps I will never find it. Then again it is all about risk–the risk is all or nothing.
In the words of Samuel Butler: It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all. He and I will be friends. ~ Written in Early September 2008.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Lady Of The Night
Distance and knowledge separate two unlikely candidates from meeting, but in Netherworld, all things are possible. Whether a dream or waking reality, two hearts find themselves meshed by circumstance. The night stirs upon them both creating a magick or magnet of sorts thereby making the dream real.
Henry is an artist who although poor in pocket is rich in heart. His paintings are deep with heart drawn emotion of a faceless woman who faces tragedy. His vision haunts his canvas.
Each night he has followed her fascinated in his dream yet each night her face escapes him in a fleeting moment. Upon his canvas, he captures a creature seemingly in pain wildly roaming the darkened streets of London in search of he knows not what.
Within his work one can make out the cobblestone lined alleys, buildings, shadowed doorways, and reflections of moon in puddles, but of her lies just a shadow of a figure with a featureless white face glowing hazily in the night. Tis but a blur of a woman who blends well into the landscape of brick and stone. He so blends her that one can mistake her supposed face for a gas lamp without the illustration of the lamp. Upon each dream he searches her out only to find her not.
Adorning the walls of his modest loft lie much of his recent works depicting this ghost of a woman in near replication of each other. Perhaps with each new canvas and each new stroke of his brush he wishes to fulfill the vision, however, each time the canvas is left void of clarity.
His ill begotten sleep leaves him weary thus he decides to abandon his work for this day. Instead, he chooses to journal his dream trying to grasp a better glimpse of her. Although the hours pass, he takes no notice to the darkness. Alas, he scripts in the dark.
In darkness he rises and stretches out his stiff body and lights a lamp. In the glow of it all, the ghost who haunts his nights and occupies his days surrounds him. Pacing to and fro within the confines of his ghost begotten loft, he reaches into his pocket to retrieve his key and upon locking his door, he returns it to the safety of his pants and descends the staircase. The air is crisp this night and the streets are wet. However, he does not heed what is present in illustration and thus walks unknowingly.
Darkened are the streets purposefully wet and splendid for the walk. Air crisp lets off puffs of smoke as she breathes through her mouth. The rustle of her skirt and the click of her shoes break the silence of the October night as she rushes the narrow cobblestone alleys. She hears not the silent steps behind her nor the breath breathed heavy by him who follows.
From behind her she hears the words "Lady, please wait." Turning to the voice she maintains her stride reverting her glance to the direction before her. Calling to her, he quickens his pace trying to catch the lady, but upon reaching her, she vanishes through a wall.
He had seen her often and followed her without giving notice of his presence. The radiance that she emitted was a glow not seen on mere mortals. He viewed what flesh he could detect on the darkened street as translucent white. Her raven colored hair loose to the wind flew equally to that of her cape.
Who is she? Why does she rush off so? He thinks to himself. Wanting to find out more about the mysterious lady, he decides to follow her the full length of her distance without making himself known.
Upon the hour, he gathers himself to the task and readies himself for the quest. Standing silently in the doorway in the chill of the night, he waits until he hears the rustle of her skirt and the click of her shoes. As usual, she is dashing off into the night toward a destination of which he knows not. Keeping his pace far enough behind so as not to be heard, but close enough to see her, he follows her in stealth.
Alley though alley she goes heading toward the Thames. As she reaches the river, he sees her silhouette form drop to her knees by the bank and hears her distant sobs. He moves silently ever closer maintaining himself in the shadow.
The full moon throws enough light and he can now see that she has laid a large stone before her and is fastening something around it. With his wretched gut, he wishes to stop her, but he has seen that she can disappear so he waits to see her end result in hope for resolve.
Once she has fastened the chord to the stone, he watches in horror as she fastens it to her neck. He screams aloud "Lady...NO!" His shout goes unheard even as he runs toward her, she casts the stone into the water and quickly follows suit. She is again gone. This time she disappears into the murky depths.
With a sick heart he heads back home and attempts to find reason for her actions, but alas he comes up empty. He has seen the ghost of a woman, but heard her reality. Who is she? He again thinks to himself.
After a night of restless sleep he heads to the dock to make inquiry as to a suicide of a woman. Although he asks all in the area, no one is aware of any such incident. One man even asked whether he was daft or had one pint too many.
Back in his loft, he ponders the night's event and the day's answers and is left in dismay. As he has only always followed behind the lady, he decides that on this night he will leap before her and stop her action or at best try.
He carefully plans the hour and waits in a doorway to hear her approach. As usual he hears her quick pace and rustling skirt and leaps out at her before she can pass him by. To his surprise he grabs her in solidity and feels a hard object against his abdomen only to look down and discover the stone.
His mind screams wildly that she is real. "Lady, why do you go to the Thames each night and sob before throwing the stone and yourself into the river?" For the first time he looks upon her face and onto her downcast eyes. He notes her tear stained face and long soft raven hair and even the smell of her lavender laced body. Eagerly his ears await a reply. After a bit she raises her troubled eyes to his and states "Dear Sir, I know not of what you speak as this night is the only night I venture out." "No Lady, I have seen you for many a night and once I called you and you vanished into a wall before my eyes. Other nights I had only followed you for a bit, but last eve I followed you for the length of your journey only to hear you cry and see you die."
Her sobbing ceases and the stone falls to the ground while her body falls faint into his arms. As he knows only the safeness of his loft, he carries the sad limp lady to the softness of his couch and studies her features. Pale is her flesh barely flush at cheek. Her lips are supple and lightly rouged and her long raven colored hair bears stark contrast against her skin. Her cloak is as black as are her garments as though she were in mourning. Again his eyes soak in her features and he watches her eyes flutter to open.
She gazes her new surroundings mindlessly as if not within herself, but before long her eyes reach his. They connect and lock in place. Both of them are speechless as their heads nod to and fro in exploration only to gain different points of the same object. His hands reach out to her cold hands and he cups them warm. Neither of them says a word, yet their eyes speak volumes.
Finally, with the courage to speak, she asks him how he could have seen her before this night. Unfortunately, he does not have an answer for her now human ghost. Confiding in his eyes, her words escape her flowing like a stream in a quiet garden. Her whispering explains to him that for many a night she dreamed of this venture and on one such night she heard a voice call out to her: a voice that broke the spell of the dream and caused her to wake.
"Dear Lady, that was I. Perhaps we had been dreaming the same dream. When it was that I first saw you, my heart fell for you and I followed you. In an effort to know you, I called out, but you vanished. When it was that I saw the deed you intended to carry out this night, I questioned the dock workers as I had thought you to be a lady from the past. It was only this eve that I decided to leap before you rather than follow you through to your deed."
Her eyes softened to his expression as she gripped his hands. At last in a soft whisper she stated "you have saved me from myself." He replied, "no dear Lady, I have saved you for myself." ~ Maggie ~ Penned September 13, 2008 before 3:00 p.m. EST
Henry is an artist who although poor in pocket is rich in heart. His paintings are deep with heart drawn emotion of a faceless woman who faces tragedy. His vision haunts his canvas.
Each night he has followed her fascinated in his dream yet each night her face escapes him in a fleeting moment. Upon his canvas, he captures a creature seemingly in pain wildly roaming the darkened streets of London in search of he knows not what.
Within his work one can make out the cobblestone lined alleys, buildings, shadowed doorways, and reflections of moon in puddles, but of her lies just a shadow of a figure with a featureless white face glowing hazily in the night. Tis but a blur of a woman who blends well into the landscape of brick and stone. He so blends her that one can mistake her supposed face for a gas lamp without the illustration of the lamp. Upon each dream he searches her out only to find her not.
Adorning the walls of his modest loft lie much of his recent works depicting this ghost of a woman in near replication of each other. Perhaps with each new canvas and each new stroke of his brush he wishes to fulfill the vision, however, each time the canvas is left void of clarity.
His ill begotten sleep leaves him weary thus he decides to abandon his work for this day. Instead, he chooses to journal his dream trying to grasp a better glimpse of her. Although the hours pass, he takes no notice to the darkness. Alas, he scripts in the dark.
In darkness he rises and stretches out his stiff body and lights a lamp. In the glow of it all, the ghost who haunts his nights and occupies his days surrounds him. Pacing to and fro within the confines of his ghost begotten loft, he reaches into his pocket to retrieve his key and upon locking his door, he returns it to the safety of his pants and descends the staircase. The air is crisp this night and the streets are wet. However, he does not heed what is present in illustration and thus walks unknowingly.
Darkened are the streets purposefully wet and splendid for the walk. Air crisp lets off puffs of smoke as she breathes through her mouth. The rustle of her skirt and the click of her shoes break the silence of the October night as she rushes the narrow cobblestone alleys. She hears not the silent steps behind her nor the breath breathed heavy by him who follows.
From behind her she hears the words "Lady, please wait." Turning to the voice she maintains her stride reverting her glance to the direction before her. Calling to her, he quickens his pace trying to catch the lady, but upon reaching her, she vanishes through a wall.
He had seen her often and followed her without giving notice of his presence. The radiance that she emitted was a glow not seen on mere mortals. He viewed what flesh he could detect on the darkened street as translucent white. Her raven colored hair loose to the wind flew equally to that of her cape.
Who is she? Why does she rush off so? He thinks to himself. Wanting to find out more about the mysterious lady, he decides to follow her the full length of her distance without making himself known.
Upon the hour, he gathers himself to the task and readies himself for the quest. Standing silently in the doorway in the chill of the night, he waits until he hears the rustle of her skirt and the click of her shoes. As usual, she is dashing off into the night toward a destination of which he knows not. Keeping his pace far enough behind so as not to be heard, but close enough to see her, he follows her in stealth.
Alley though alley she goes heading toward the Thames. As she reaches the river, he sees her silhouette form drop to her knees by the bank and hears her distant sobs. He moves silently ever closer maintaining himself in the shadow.
The full moon throws enough light and he can now see that she has laid a large stone before her and is fastening something around it. With his wretched gut, he wishes to stop her, but he has seen that she can disappear so he waits to see her end result in hope for resolve.
Once she has fastened the chord to the stone, he watches in horror as she fastens it to her neck. He screams aloud "Lady...NO!" His shout goes unheard even as he runs toward her, she casts the stone into the water and quickly follows suit. She is again gone. This time she disappears into the murky depths.
With a sick heart he heads back home and attempts to find reason for her actions, but alas he comes up empty. He has seen the ghost of a woman, but heard her reality. Who is she? He again thinks to himself.
After a night of restless sleep he heads to the dock to make inquiry as to a suicide of a woman. Although he asks all in the area, no one is aware of any such incident. One man even asked whether he was daft or had one pint too many.
Back in his loft, he ponders the night's event and the day's answers and is left in dismay. As he has only always followed behind the lady, he decides that on this night he will leap before her and stop her action or at best try.
He carefully plans the hour and waits in a doorway to hear her approach. As usual he hears her quick pace and rustling skirt and leaps out at her before she can pass him by. To his surprise he grabs her in solidity and feels a hard object against his abdomen only to look down and discover the stone.
His mind screams wildly that she is real. "Lady, why do you go to the Thames each night and sob before throwing the stone and yourself into the river?" For the first time he looks upon her face and onto her downcast eyes. He notes her tear stained face and long soft raven hair and even the smell of her lavender laced body. Eagerly his ears await a reply. After a bit she raises her troubled eyes to his and states "Dear Sir, I know not of what you speak as this night is the only night I venture out." "No Lady, I have seen you for many a night and once I called you and you vanished into a wall before my eyes. Other nights I had only followed you for a bit, but last eve I followed you for the length of your journey only to hear you cry and see you die."
Her sobbing ceases and the stone falls to the ground while her body falls faint into his arms. As he knows only the safeness of his loft, he carries the sad limp lady to the softness of his couch and studies her features. Pale is her flesh barely flush at cheek. Her lips are supple and lightly rouged and her long raven colored hair bears stark contrast against her skin. Her cloak is as black as are her garments as though she were in mourning. Again his eyes soak in her features and he watches her eyes flutter to open.
She gazes her new surroundings mindlessly as if not within herself, but before long her eyes reach his. They connect and lock in place. Both of them are speechless as their heads nod to and fro in exploration only to gain different points of the same object. His hands reach out to her cold hands and he cups them warm. Neither of them says a word, yet their eyes speak volumes.
Finally, with the courage to speak, she asks him how he could have seen her before this night. Unfortunately, he does not have an answer for her now human ghost. Confiding in his eyes, her words escape her flowing like a stream in a quiet garden. Her whispering explains to him that for many a night she dreamed of this venture and on one such night she heard a voice call out to her: a voice that broke the spell of the dream and caused her to wake.
"Dear Lady, that was I. Perhaps we had been dreaming the same dream. When it was that I first saw you, my heart fell for you and I followed you. In an effort to know you, I called out, but you vanished. When it was that I saw the deed you intended to carry out this night, I questioned the dock workers as I had thought you to be a lady from the past. It was only this eve that I decided to leap before you rather than follow you through to your deed."
Her eyes softened to his expression as she gripped his hands. At last in a soft whisper she stated "you have saved me from myself." He replied, "no dear Lady, I have saved you for myself." ~ Maggie ~ Penned September 13, 2008 before 3:00 p.m. EST
Friday, September 12, 2008
To be like sand...
Alone on a beach, she is coiled into a fetal position rocking with the flow of the waves. Rocking and wishing to become part of something greater. “This womanhood is not working” she screams to the wind as her voice travels and becomes a whisper in the distance and simply waves further down the beach. The words are inaudible to other humans, but I hear her scream. I watch her as she gathers herself into a sitting position and scans the horizon. Her thoughts lie in imagination and reality as she watches the setting sun with tear filled eyes holding steady to her knees as if holding onto life itself which is defined by her taut muscles full of expression and definition.
“Oh Sybil, why do you feel so?” I enter into her mind and try to comfort her. At first she shakes her head in an act of defiance as if to defy her own essence. My words come more loudly the second time and she responds. “Why have labels been affixed to me that I should be that which others define me as? Why is it that I am not supposed to be what I am? Am I not to feel? Should I squelch all my emotions and not be a human in order to make others happy? I am not a character with a predefined role in a sad tale.” I listen and ponder these words and direct them back to her and she brings them back inside for inspection.
Lost in thought, I play upon her hair and she releases the grip she held so tightly to. With her arms and hands now free, she plays with the sand picking it up and allowing the grains to pass through her fingers. “This is time” she says as she ponders her own words. “The sand was always here and will always be so in rock or gain form. Be it rock or rock eroded to sand, it is still the same thing.” With these words she lies back in a relaxed state while looking skyward. All along still allowing the grains to slip through her fingers.
I so want to hug her and let her know that it is okay to be all that she is even unto this world where acceptance is not regarded, however, my density is so thin that I only come across as a light warm breeze and a ray. Again, I enter her mind with a question. “Sybil, would you rather be a grain of sand?” She replies “I already am.” With these words, she picks herself up and walks into the water. ~ Maggie ~ September 12, 2008 @ 4:35 p.m. EST
“Oh Sybil, why do you feel so?” I enter into her mind and try to comfort her. At first she shakes her head in an act of defiance as if to defy her own essence. My words come more loudly the second time and she responds. “Why have labels been affixed to me that I should be that which others define me as? Why is it that I am not supposed to be what I am? Am I not to feel? Should I squelch all my emotions and not be a human in order to make others happy? I am not a character with a predefined role in a sad tale.” I listen and ponder these words and direct them back to her and she brings them back inside for inspection.
Lost in thought, I play upon her hair and she releases the grip she held so tightly to. With her arms and hands now free, she plays with the sand picking it up and allowing the grains to pass through her fingers. “This is time” she says as she ponders her own words. “The sand was always here and will always be so in rock or gain form. Be it rock or rock eroded to sand, it is still the same thing.” With these words she lies back in a relaxed state while looking skyward. All along still allowing the grains to slip through her fingers.
I so want to hug her and let her know that it is okay to be all that she is even unto this world where acceptance is not regarded, however, my density is so thin that I only come across as a light warm breeze and a ray. Again, I enter her mind with a question. “Sybil, would you rather be a grain of sand?” She replies “I already am.” With these words, she picks herself up and walks into the water. ~ Maggie ~ September 12, 2008 @ 4:35 p.m. EST
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Making Love With The Sun
I stand before the bright orb
Whose makeup is akin to a warrior shield set ablaze
Head raised in acknowledgment
Eyes closed so as to only feel
Feeling the heat as it penetrates my body
Every inch of me is covered in warmth
Every inch of me is open to the gentle caress
I welcome it
The wind blows from the west but again
My tresses pass my face
As I sway to the throb
Burn me unto thee
I am one with you ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. EST Sept. 10, 2008
Whose makeup is akin to a warrior shield set ablaze
Head raised in acknowledgment
Eyes closed so as to only feel
Feeling the heat as it penetrates my body
Every inch of me is covered in warmth
Every inch of me is open to the gentle caress
I welcome it
The wind blows from the west but again
My tresses pass my face
As I sway to the throb
Burn me unto thee
I am one with you ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. EST Sept. 10, 2008
Speak
Addressing the four corners in the light of sun and blue of sky was majestic. To each corner wishes go out. To each corner love is sent.
At peace under crisp blue skies
I have let go
The breath breathed deep
Released the words to the wind
Inspired by sun and reason
Previously inspired by rain, cloud, and reason
Inspired by self for love
If you love, let it go
If it was meant to be, it will come back to thee
Welcome my friend. I do love you!
Open are my arms in friendship and understanding
Open is my door to other avenues
Open is my hear to love
Open is my being to reality of what is and what is not
Cans’t thou speak the same?
Truth be said in good form derives merit
I see the form, but oh the words
To hear the words of truth
Spoken as clear as this day
Pray you, speak the words
If I err in my judgment speak that as well
The strength in my being is that of Atlas
Fear not as offense shall not be taken
However, your silence screams loudly
A silence that echoes amongst the canyon walls
Reverberating over and over again
Truth need only be told in plain language
“You are my friend.” ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. EST Sept. 10, 2008
At peace under crisp blue skies
I have let go
The breath breathed deep
Released the words to the wind
Inspired by sun and reason
Previously inspired by rain, cloud, and reason
Inspired by self for love
If you love, let it go
If it was meant to be, it will come back to thee
Welcome my friend. I do love you!
Open are my arms in friendship and understanding
Open is my door to other avenues
Open is my hear to love
Open is my being to reality of what is and what is not
Cans’t thou speak the same?
Truth be said in good form derives merit
I see the form, but oh the words
To hear the words of truth
Spoken as clear as this day
Pray you, speak the words
If I err in my judgment speak that as well
The strength in my being is that of Atlas
Fear not as offense shall not be taken
However, your silence screams loudly
A silence that echoes amongst the canyon walls
Reverberating over and over again
Truth need only be told in plain language
“You are my friend.” ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. EST Sept. 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The Killing Of Something Within
I did not with full realization know that killing something within could be done with such ease. Hum. What would have affected me one way yesterday does not do so today. To say that feelings changed in an overall fashion would be a self-illusion, however, I received my freedom of mind that I self-imposed by removing via virtual scalpel the cancer within self. Odd is how it happens. Me thought that perhaps it would linger longer and sting greater, but it doesn't. I have programmed self well. In my own words, burn to learn. It could be that I play upon the old reliance system which by now runs as a program in the background.. A closer inspections needs to be had if I want understanding of the matter. The question is why question something if it bothers you not? I look at the moment and I am content.
Has my heart flown out the window? Nah! However, I have peace and two wide open eyes. I have acceptance, love, friendship, tolerance, and I am guided by my "reason." *scratches head to make sure head is still there. What will be will be. I shall not shed a tear. Joy will be had from memories of what was and what is. Be it me to question, poke, prod, only to say "don't answer" as that is how I am. Why? I really don't want to know, BUT I DO! I want to hear TRUTH. Is that so bad? I enjoy truth and would rather hear it with long luscious ass kicking words that might tear someone else up, but with me, truth sets the ground and stabilizes it.
Wishes make for wonderful things, but magick cannot be used AGAINST another lest it be black and venomous. The "wish process" (not to be mistaken for wishes) should not be entered into as it is consuming and hurts another to the point of blood. I offer up my brother and another as prime examples. The wish was for one to split his head open and the other for lower regions to be dysfunctional. Hearing the voice on the phone from his (Tommy) Hicks Street apartment saying that an ambulance is on the way was amusing at the time. Imagine falling on a parking meter and rupturing your liver? Oh my! Poor darling in Beekman Hospital ever so foul! You may be questioning how one would fall on a parking meter...shit happens and then you die, but he did not...die that is. It was interesting to witness his bandaged self enter in on Atlantic Avenue kind of bent over as I pasted Budwiser labels to wall on the side of the pinball machine as Marie watched with an ever watchful eye. However, these two examples rested on hatred pure and simple. I shall never venture the hatred highway again as the taste is bitter. My heart no longer harbors hatred of anyone or anything. I am free of that and the black.
Doors are always open provided violations have not occurred. Then again, one would have to look at the grand scope of the friendship and its foundation. What factors bear merit? How much of an illusory feat was performed? How much time is vested? Is it worth the rot? Perhaps not! It likens me not to be villainous. Tis far greater to love! Smiles are had and warmth is felt. Yes I love my friends.
Even to those I am cold upon now, I bear no ill will as love it the foundation now and forever more. My kin is my skin and I their's. What harm that comes their way shall not be of my doing but of their own. I still have kept my silence and the silence will remain golden as the gold (goal) is the PEACE.
LOVE IS THE FOUNDATION OF PEACE and PEACE IS THE FOUNDATION OF LOVE. If one cannot love, at least respect as that too is a foundation of love. My verbose self now ends. ~ Maggie ~ September 9, 2008 @ 10:17 p.m. EST
LISTENING TO: THIS WAS MY LIFE
Has my heart flown out the window? Nah! However, I have peace and two wide open eyes. I have acceptance, love, friendship, tolerance, and I am guided by my "reason." *scratches head to make sure head is still there. What will be will be. I shall not shed a tear. Joy will be had from memories of what was and what is. Be it me to question, poke, prod, only to say "don't answer" as that is how I am. Why? I really don't want to know, BUT I DO! I want to hear TRUTH. Is that so bad? I enjoy truth and would rather hear it with long luscious ass kicking words that might tear someone else up, but with me, truth sets the ground and stabilizes it.
Wishes make for wonderful things, but magick cannot be used AGAINST another lest it be black and venomous. The "wish process" (not to be mistaken for wishes) should not be entered into as it is consuming and hurts another to the point of blood. I offer up my brother and another as prime examples. The wish was for one to split his head open and the other for lower regions to be dysfunctional. Hearing the voice on the phone from his (Tommy) Hicks Street apartment saying that an ambulance is on the way was amusing at the time. Imagine falling on a parking meter and rupturing your liver? Oh my! Poor darling in Beekman Hospital ever so foul! You may be questioning how one would fall on a parking meter...shit happens and then you die, but he did not...die that is. It was interesting to witness his bandaged self enter in on Atlantic Avenue kind of bent over as I pasted Budwiser labels to wall on the side of the pinball machine as Marie watched with an ever watchful eye. However, these two examples rested on hatred pure and simple. I shall never venture the hatred highway again as the taste is bitter. My heart no longer harbors hatred of anyone or anything. I am free of that and the black.
Doors are always open provided violations have not occurred. Then again, one would have to look at the grand scope of the friendship and its foundation. What factors bear merit? How much of an illusory feat was performed? How much time is vested? Is it worth the rot? Perhaps not! It likens me not to be villainous. Tis far greater to love! Smiles are had and warmth is felt. Yes I love my friends.
Even to those I am cold upon now, I bear no ill will as love it the foundation now and forever more. My kin is my skin and I their's. What harm that comes their way shall not be of my doing but of their own. I still have kept my silence and the silence will remain golden as the gold (goal) is the PEACE.
LOVE IS THE FOUNDATION OF PEACE and PEACE IS THE FOUNDATION OF LOVE. If one cannot love, at least respect as that too is a foundation of love. My verbose self now ends. ~ Maggie ~ September 9, 2008 @ 10:17 p.m. EST
LISTENING TO: THIS WAS MY LIFE
Wishing Upon A Willow
Oh willow hear my words
Feel the soft spoken whispers calling thee
Tis only a wish I seek and nothing more
Naught of the magick within the wand
But of nature of that which thou art
Hear me oh willow
I shalt not weep as thou dost so for me
Take my wish to thy roots and harbor it
Hold it to the earth for judgement
The decision that thou dost make
Will be looked kindly upon
As that is thy wish
Grant to me as you see fit
To the smell of sweetgrass I go
Burn with me
We burn together
To dreams of wishes fulfilled ~ Maggie ~ September 9, 2008 @ 7:10 p.m. EST
Feel the soft spoken whispers calling thee
Tis only a wish I seek and nothing more
Naught of the magick within the wand
But of nature of that which thou art
Hear me oh willow
I shalt not weep as thou dost so for me
Take my wish to thy roots and harbor it
Hold it to the earth for judgement
The decision that thou dost make
Will be looked kindly upon
As that is thy wish
Grant to me as you see fit
To the smell of sweetgrass I go
Burn with me
We burn together
To dreams of wishes fulfilled ~ Maggie ~ September 9, 2008 @ 7:10 p.m. EST
Unnamed
Orbital orbits sit clearly closely
Defining light rays
Is it a tree that I see?
Waves
Waved by branch or root
What is above is below so...
Symmetry in asymmetrical form
Contrast fast by non-recognition
Same!
Same I say you!
Find me in THEE
Are we but one?
The stone - the you - the sky?
Fly above the birds
Stratosphere star bond
Ah! Orbit!
Aye see
Stray lumination held only by the votive
Light shows in darkness
Moon reflects sun
I love you!
Don't you hear me? ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
Defining light rays
Is it a tree that I see?
Waves
Waved by branch or root
What is above is below so...
Symmetry in asymmetrical form
Contrast fast by non-recognition
Same!
Same I say you!
Find me in THEE
Are we but one?
The stone - the you - the sky?
Fly above the birds
Stratosphere star bond
Ah! Orbit!
Aye see
Stray lumination held only by the votive
Light shows in darkness
Moon reflects sun
I love you!
Don't you hear me? ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
Clouds
Clouds
Low lying clouds glide effortlessly across the horizon
Seemingly grazing tree tops along their journey
Who bow graciously to the north west winds
Hail to you who hails not
Engorged with life filling properties
Smiling, I welcome you to my open arms
Open and touching
Being touched by life
A crack opens making way for sun
Shining for a moment
Covered
Hiding
Allowing for the gray
Matter gray/white
Filled
Thinking
Filled cranium BRAIN
Brine are with salt
Save these
The fresh as in the tress
The salt within us. ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
Low lying clouds glide effortlessly across the horizon
Seemingly grazing tree tops along their journey
Who bow graciously to the north west winds
Hail to you who hails not
Engorged with life filling properties
Smiling, I welcome you to my open arms
Open and touching
Being touched by life
A crack opens making way for sun
Shining for a moment
Covered
Hiding
Allowing for the gray
Matter gray/white
Filled
Thinking
Filled cranium BRAIN
Brine are with salt
Save these
The fresh as in the tress
The salt within us. ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
More Color
Sebastian
Clear are his eyes as eye contact is maintained. Converse we do in joy of moving clouds. The conversation is not what might be expected from a person in my so called position, but that of one human exploring another but for a moment in time.
Ah, the eye contact. I cannot steer away from that as I gaze directly into his orbs and he into mine. I explain from which way the wind comes and show the lighter of the clouds moving swiftly whilst the heavier stay stationary or seemingly so. Use your own judgment I tell him in a patient tone. The psychology and the human meet in perfection. He thanks me for my time and my lesson and promises to return. Enjoy your quiet time!
Doug
Be spontaneous and jump up and down the stairs. Your load may be weighed by contents slowed of pace. Embrace the joy of adventure! Did you learn something today? I learned your name! For one that says he does not smile, your teeth give way to truth. Be thee glad and patient and seek not the patience of others who understand not the circumstances of your tow. Will you be here on the morrow?
Humans color the world so beautifully when allowed to stray away from their cause. They are given to playful nature away from the mundane expectations. Always be self I say unto me. They do not expect magick in the moment so I surprise the unwitting! ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
Clear are his eyes as eye contact is maintained. Converse we do in joy of moving clouds. The conversation is not what might be expected from a person in my so called position, but that of one human exploring another but for a moment in time.
Ah, the eye contact. I cannot steer away from that as I gaze directly into his orbs and he into mine. I explain from which way the wind comes and show the lighter of the clouds moving swiftly whilst the heavier stay stationary or seemingly so. Use your own judgment I tell him in a patient tone. The psychology and the human meet in perfection. He thanks me for my time and my lesson and promises to return. Enjoy your quiet time!
Doug
Be spontaneous and jump up and down the stairs. Your load may be weighed by contents slowed of pace. Embrace the joy of adventure! Did you learn something today? I learned your name! For one that says he does not smile, your teeth give way to truth. Be thee glad and patient and seek not the patience of others who understand not the circumstances of your tow. Will you be here on the morrow?
Humans color the world so beautifully when allowed to stray away from their cause. They are given to playful nature away from the mundane expectations. Always be self I say unto me. They do not expect magick in the moment so I surprise the unwitting! ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
The Door Ajar
Feelings felt left undisturbed
Cease flight from fancy
Fancy fantasy that comes not
The will cannot will it so
Open doors must present themselves for address
Lest they be walked past
Down other avenues
Not yet explored by the explorer
Switches direction on off - off on
Light acknowledges
Say you no?
Lay thy light here!
Twas a moment in time
What is time?
Do you see what I do not?
Have I missed a vibration?
Sense changed - not dismissed
No vacillation
Miles walked forward go back
Back to point "A" starting line
Run, run again?
Shut the faucet
No water wasted
Empty sink not filled with plates
No need I plead
Cry for the beauty
Cry for the song
Cry for what was and is all along
Heart lies within and without
LOVE
Shut by slams
Dance to Toxic Waltz
I bleed!
I bleed what my participation allows
Hold me! Release me! Speak!
The door is open, but you do not see the light
I watch through the crack
As you walk to the next room ~ ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
Cease flight from fancy
Fancy fantasy that comes not
The will cannot will it so
Open doors must present themselves for address
Lest they be walked past
Down other avenues
Not yet explored by the explorer
Switches direction on off - off on
Light acknowledges
Say you no?
Lay thy light here!
Twas a moment in time
What is time?
Do you see what I do not?
Have I missed a vibration?
Sense changed - not dismissed
No vacillation
Miles walked forward go back
Back to point "A" starting line
Run, run again?
Shut the faucet
No water wasted
Empty sink not filled with plates
No need I plead
Cry for the beauty
Cry for the song
Cry for what was and is all along
Heart lies within and without
LOVE
Shut by slams
Dance to Toxic Waltz
I bleed!
I bleed what my participation allows
Hold me! Release me! Speak!
The door is open, but you do not see the light
I watch through the crack
As you walk to the next room ~ ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
Poetry in Motion
Electric are the words
That resonate in waves
Thoughts processed
Wave like matter - anti-matter
Real - surreal
FEEL!
Laughter, fear, tears
Staged upon a play
Play with words
Not heard but read
Visions created
Light strokes upon a canvas
Stippled for texture
Chunk - swipe - whoosh
Elaborate shadows
Mirrored reflections
A story possessed
The character idle/idol moves
The verse allows
Read, see, feel...
Where lies creation? Tis only in the mind which set into motion that which would otherwise be stagnant. Stagnant stallions cannot produce the juice needed to replicate. Replication for the magnification upon closer inspection. The inspector realizes tis naught of fowl play as the chicken has flown the coop! Cooped up and kept from flying with wings that are useless for flight. Speak with the falcon! Evolve and be more than meat. Meet thy maker and question the foul nature of circumstance. Oh penguin I relate to thee, but I want to ask "WHO" like the owl who questions in the night. Take sight and flight when large eyes scope a mouse unaware. No scare. Tis the order. Nature calls! The wolf howls. Mate heard upon the ledge in the light of the full moon. Neck rises to the vocal. Voice speaks whispers into ears that want to hear over screams that have been magnified by heart. Listen carefully for the comfort. Comfortably numb. Numbed out of feeling. Feeling too much. The hurt is endless. Shall I go on? Yes! Swine is pork not to poke fun at pigs who live but for hate. Self-hate...self-mutilation...mutation *sans salvation **save from the self! Empowered enabled labeled FREE! Free me! I free you says me to me! Exit stage left... ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
*sans >preposition literary or humorous without: she plays her role sans accent.
-ORIGIN Old French sanz, from Latin sine.
**save2 >preposition & >conjunction formal or literary except; other than.
-ORIGIN from Latin salvus 'safe', used in phrases such as salvo jure, salva innocentia 'with no violation of right or innocence'.
That resonate in waves
Thoughts processed
Wave like matter - anti-matter
Real - surreal
FEEL!
Laughter, fear, tears
Staged upon a play
Play with words
Not heard but read
Visions created
Light strokes upon a canvas
Stippled for texture
Chunk - swipe - whoosh
Elaborate shadows
Mirrored reflections
A story possessed
The character idle/idol moves
The verse allows
Read, see, feel...
Where lies creation? Tis only in the mind which set into motion that which would otherwise be stagnant. Stagnant stallions cannot produce the juice needed to replicate. Replication for the magnification upon closer inspection. The inspector realizes tis naught of fowl play as the chicken has flown the coop! Cooped up and kept from flying with wings that are useless for flight. Speak with the falcon! Evolve and be more than meat. Meet thy maker and question the foul nature of circumstance. Oh penguin I relate to thee, but I want to ask "WHO" like the owl who questions in the night. Take sight and flight when large eyes scope a mouse unaware. No scare. Tis the order. Nature calls! The wolf howls. Mate heard upon the ledge in the light of the full moon. Neck rises to the vocal. Voice speaks whispers into ears that want to hear over screams that have been magnified by heart. Listen carefully for the comfort. Comfortably numb. Numbed out of feeling. Feeling too much. The hurt is endless. Shall I go on? Yes! Swine is pork not to poke fun at pigs who live but for hate. Self-hate...self-mutilation...mutation *sans salvation **save from the self! Empowered enabled labeled FREE! Free me! I free you says me to me! Exit stage left... ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. Sept. 9, 2008
*sans >preposition literary or humorous without: she plays her role sans accent.
-ORIGIN Old French sanz, from Latin sine.
**save2 >preposition & >conjunction formal or literary except; other than.
-ORIGIN from Latin salvus 'safe', used in phrases such as salvo jure, salva innocentia 'with no violation of right or innocence'.
Monday, September 8, 2008
My Thoughts On Superficiality~
Imagine getting a beautiful box handed to you. The box is wrapped in exquisite paper and topped with an exquisite bow. However, what are the contents? What if what is on the outside is not representative of what is on the inside? What would you do if you opened the box and found fresh dog shit in there? Then what? You judged based on the exterior rather than the contents. How would you feel? Would you keep the paper and bow and chuck the box of shit?
Imagine getting a small object wrapped in a paper towel or toilet paper and closed only by a string? Would you see value there? What if the content was a marble which appeared to hold all the stars in the universe? To the majority of you, I bet you would rather have the fresh dog shit in the beautiful box than something as lovely as I have described above. It is my belief that the superficial wrapping would be viewed as valueless and discarded. Perhaps you would not even find beauty in the marble had you sought beneath the surface.
Gift boxes, books, and people are the same. Do not judge on what is seen as what is seen is not always what is. Then again, what is your value system? ~ Maggie ~ September 8, 2008 @ 4:46 p.m. EST.
Imagine getting a small object wrapped in a paper towel or toilet paper and closed only by a string? Would you see value there? What if the content was a marble which appeared to hold all the stars in the universe? To the majority of you, I bet you would rather have the fresh dog shit in the beautiful box than something as lovely as I have described above. It is my belief that the superficial wrapping would be viewed as valueless and discarded. Perhaps you would not even find beauty in the marble had you sought beneath the surface.
Gift boxes, books, and people are the same. Do not judge on what is seen as what is seen is not always what is. Then again, what is your value system? ~ Maggie ~ September 8, 2008 @ 4:46 p.m. EST.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Words of a Bard
Words written evoke tears
As the words create patterns of beauty
I see his writ for more than words
He sees not the merit of his verse
Nor the quality of his reason
Shall I lay it to mine own foolishness? Nay!
A delight is not squandered
I delight in my dear tears of life
The reading of another ~ Maggie ~ September 7, 2008 @ 8:36 p.m. EST
As the words create patterns of beauty
I see his writ for more than words
He sees not the merit of his verse
Nor the quality of his reason
Shall I lay it to mine own foolishness? Nay!
A delight is not squandered
I delight in my dear tears of life
The reading of another ~ Maggie ~ September 7, 2008 @ 8:36 p.m. EST
Saturday, September 6, 2008
The Buggy Horse
Blinders on and looking forward
A carrot is dangled from a rod and string before me
It lies not far from me, but I cannot reach it
My eyes gaze it and I wish to have it
I move forward
Trotting slowly at first
However, I am no closer
Even in full gallop
The carrot escapes me
Why do I run so?
REALIZATION!
Don’t run as it is pointless.
Perhaps upon standing still
The buggy master will relent
Perhaps he will provide that which he has teased with
Perhaps he will remove the carrot altogether
Tis then I will move when and if I so wish
When I am moving at will
He may not be taken where he wishes to go ~ Maggie ~ September 6, 2008 @ 3:59 p.m. EST
A carrot is dangled from a rod and string before me
It lies not far from me, but I cannot reach it
My eyes gaze it and I wish to have it
I move forward
Trotting slowly at first
However, I am no closer
Even in full gallop
The carrot escapes me
Why do I run so?
REALIZATION!
Don’t run as it is pointless.
Perhaps upon standing still
The buggy master will relent
Perhaps he will provide that which he has teased with
Perhaps he will remove the carrot altogether
Tis then I will move when and if I so wish
When I am moving at will
He may not be taken where he wishes to go ~ Maggie ~ September 6, 2008 @ 3:59 p.m. EST
Looking In The Mirror
Both she and I were bummed last night. We spoke words of consolation to each other and spoke of what is. Then she gave me my own word as I had given them to her “Look into the mirror and love yourself.”. Yes I do love myself. Right now I hurt on various levels due to my own making as I allowed it. When addressing the 4 corners for the past several days I have sent love and peace and asked for love and peace as well. Today she gave me the moon schedule and we will hold a ceremony soon to uplift us and bring peace, togetherness, and inner strength. We will find joy there.
The mirror is not a mirror per se, but a reflection of self in all that is. One hurt will eventually resolve itself and will stay peaceful for a bit until the next round of nonsense. The other problem needs to be addressed and changed for the betterment of self as self created it and self must morph it. The knowledge to change is there and it will create an inner peace. My heart can then be still on that issue.
My fire circle has been waiting for me to ignite it, but alas rain is falling. I do want to ignite it and have my voice travel with the smoke and heat to the Skyworld. Tobacco and sage will be included and I will walk the circle before I sit.
My children the tress (all named Nelly as are my spiders) will be gone to and loved (circled three times).
Today I mirror the willow. She is newly planted and thriving. She is small and tender and near my two pines. The largest Nelly is closest to my house and replaced the lilac tree that I removed. Yes. I am small and tender today. Tomorrow I shall be large with great shade and beauty. Weeping is the willow, but not I. Weeping is only the direction of the branch and not its core. I like the willow absorb.
Just thinking about dance, drums, rattles, song, tobacco, sage, and movement in the circle of life is lifting me. It takes me back to the warmth of the Strawberry Festival.
Peace will come. ~ Maggie ~ September 6, 2008 @ 3:49 p.m. EST
The mirror is not a mirror per se, but a reflection of self in all that is. One hurt will eventually resolve itself and will stay peaceful for a bit until the next round of nonsense. The other problem needs to be addressed and changed for the betterment of self as self created it and self must morph it. The knowledge to change is there and it will create an inner peace. My heart can then be still on that issue.
My fire circle has been waiting for me to ignite it, but alas rain is falling. I do want to ignite it and have my voice travel with the smoke and heat to the Skyworld. Tobacco and sage will be included and I will walk the circle before I sit.
My children the tress (all named Nelly as are my spiders) will be gone to and loved (circled three times).
Today I mirror the willow. She is newly planted and thriving. She is small and tender and near my two pines. The largest Nelly is closest to my house and replaced the lilac tree that I removed. Yes. I am small and tender today. Tomorrow I shall be large with great shade and beauty. Weeping is the willow, but not I. Weeping is only the direction of the branch and not its core. I like the willow absorb.
Just thinking about dance, drums, rattles, song, tobacco, sage, and movement in the circle of life is lifting me. It takes me back to the warmth of the Strawberry Festival.
Peace will come. ~ Maggie ~ September 6, 2008 @ 3:49 p.m. EST
Friday, September 5, 2008
The Spider
The web is there for "reason"
It feels
Sight is not necessary
All is seen in different ways
And the vibrations are very loud
Showing true clarity
All is but waves
The web has been flown into
But the spider is full
When the web is dismantled
They prey will fall away with the web ~ Maggie ~ September 5, 2008
It feels
Sight is not necessary
All is seen in different ways
And the vibrations are very loud
Showing true clarity
All is but waves
The web has been flown into
But the spider is full
When the web is dismantled
They prey will fall away with the web ~ Maggie ~ September 5, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Judgmental (Mother & Daughter)
This PARTICULAR blog will be deleted in two day's time. On the morrow is mummy's birthday and that will make two out of three days post. I bend, but fuck breaking. My silence will speak loudly to you both. Be thee villainous as Iago in form and thou shalt bleed of thine own making. If experience escapes you, read Othello.
Should I care about the names that are being doled out at me? Hell, that is my life's norm. Berate her...try to make her feel like shit...say things to hurt her...hell, just hurt her. Guess what? I don't feel. Due to life and my own understanding of self, I can shut off any and all feelings. The crown of ice princess is there for reason...you gave it to me via conditioning and I have adopted it. I can and will shut you out. If it were up to you, my ass would be placed in a corner to collect dust. After all this time...LEARN! I did not die when driven mad by the insanity of my life. The numerous suicide attempts and situations that I placed myself in have not killed me. NAY! THEY HAVE MADE ME STRONGER and I thank you for that. If you want to try and destroy me, do so and see if I care.
TO NIX
Cold is a place I am very familiar with and I can go there as you well know as I have had years of practice. You can't hurt me as you have done too much already. My past is my mirror and it is something that I rely on for strength. Therefore, fuck you. I don't need you or anyone. NEED is for the needy. Do you think for a second that I do not see the collaboration? Do you think me to be that stupid? Guess again and remember how I play. I will follow through and you will be the one to break not me. ~ Maggie ~ Sept. 2, 2008 @ 9:13 p.m. EST
BTW, I don't go to funerals as they are bogus. So ask me if I care about that too. Oh, happy birthday to you both. Before I forget, I heard the lies that were told and I have kept my mouth shut about what I know. However beware. I leave that as my warning. Again, remember I am good at the follow through. THINK.
Should I care about the names that are being doled out at me? Hell, that is my life's norm. Berate her...try to make her feel like shit...say things to hurt her...hell, just hurt her. Guess what? I don't feel. Due to life and my own understanding of self, I can shut off any and all feelings. The crown of ice princess is there for reason...you gave it to me via conditioning and I have adopted it. I can and will shut you out. If it were up to you, my ass would be placed in a corner to collect dust. After all this time...LEARN! I did not die when driven mad by the insanity of my life. The numerous suicide attempts and situations that I placed myself in have not killed me. NAY! THEY HAVE MADE ME STRONGER and I thank you for that. If you want to try and destroy me, do so and see if I care.
TO NIX
Cold is a place I am very familiar with and I can go there as you well know as I have had years of practice. You can't hurt me as you have done too much already. My past is my mirror and it is something that I rely on for strength. Therefore, fuck you. I don't need you or anyone. NEED is for the needy. Do you think for a second that I do not see the collaboration? Do you think me to be that stupid? Guess again and remember how I play. I will follow through and you will be the one to break not me. ~ Maggie ~ Sept. 2, 2008 @ 9:13 p.m. EST
BTW, I don't go to funerals as they are bogus. So ask me if I care about that too. Oh, happy birthday to you both. Before I forget, I heard the lies that were told and I have kept my mouth shut about what I know. However beware. I leave that as my warning. Again, remember I am good at the follow through. THINK.
Joy & Sadness Walk Hand In Hand
There is joy in knowing someone and having loved them and still love them. However, sadness of circumstances weigh along with the joy and create an equilibrium. At the moment, the equilibrium feels like a numbing sensation. I am happy for what was, what is, and what will be regardless of what is and what will be, but at the same time there is a sad lost kind of feeling.
There are reasons why we feel both ends of the spectrum...APPRECIATION! Imagine life without roller coasters? The ride would be flat and uneventful and perhaps not worthy of writing about.
My heart so wants to be poetic and dribble out all that lies within, but for some reason I feel I have to be strong for the moment. Granted I did predict what would be and I did lose my head and pick it up on the way out as I stated that I would. I did set the odds at 98.99% and I am usually not wrong. Why do I predict such things? I base my predictions on the laws of probability and observation. Listening helps too. Clear pictures can be drawn with the greatest of ease utilizing every shade of every color known. Also, experience teaches wisely.
I asked myself why did I act as so to create thus. Well, it is based on feelings even when the writing on the wall is bright and the knowledge is there. I follow my heart, but know full well with my head. What are heads for if for not lopping off?
Granted this is not really what I want to say, but right now I can’t say what I wish as I am too busy beating myself. When I have beaten myself well enough, I’ll stop and thank myself for the experience as it was worth every second.
Perhaps now I will shed my tears...the soldier has fallen. ~ Maggie ~ 9/2/08 @ 7:02 p.m. EST
There are reasons why we feel both ends of the spectrum...APPRECIATION! Imagine life without roller coasters? The ride would be flat and uneventful and perhaps not worthy of writing about.
My heart so wants to be poetic and dribble out all that lies within, but for some reason I feel I have to be strong for the moment. Granted I did predict what would be and I did lose my head and pick it up on the way out as I stated that I would. I did set the odds at 98.99% and I am usually not wrong. Why do I predict such things? I base my predictions on the laws of probability and observation. Listening helps too. Clear pictures can be drawn with the greatest of ease utilizing every shade of every color known. Also, experience teaches wisely.
I asked myself why did I act as so to create thus. Well, it is based on feelings even when the writing on the wall is bright and the knowledge is there. I follow my heart, but know full well with my head. What are heads for if for not lopping off?
Granted this is not really what I want to say, but right now I can’t say what I wish as I am too busy beating myself. When I have beaten myself well enough, I’ll stop and thank myself for the experience as it was worth every second.
Perhaps now I will shed my tears...the soldier has fallen. ~ Maggie ~ 9/2/08 @ 7:02 p.m. EST
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