Thursday, September 13, 2012

skype in the name of love

it might be true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. especially in the case of a hedonistic whirlwind love affair born out of a deep connection, but technology alleviates the pain of time apart after unexpectedly acquiring inseparable extra limbs. 

one doesn't often appreciate what exists until it is missed. and the furore of the full swing band once it moves on leaving only gyrating tumbleweed behind is quickly pined for once a situation is taken stock of. silence is only golden when one can see through the blur of the fast moving glittered shine of white noise. all that glisters is not gold, often have you heard that told... but in the stillness it stands true, echoed by your bodiless voice, your visage transmitted over my computer screen from thousands of miles way. given pixelated shape.

when an AWOL monk finds herself as part of a pair after a longterm pilgrimage of traversing dusty paths mostly single-handedly in a realm of inequality, it's nice to be reminded that it's no longer necessary to be alone. or unrequited. and that it might be time to retire one mantle in order to adopt another. a careful consideration. we can hold hands & face the world together.

in a world of questions re: reality and the frailty of self-created bubbles, it is better to be reminded than forgotten. the fresh stimulus provided by an injection of tangible chemistry which lives & breathes in balanced equation despite physical disconnection. no out of sight, out of mind but a need to soak in the luxuriance of your shadow. and vice versa. the many guises of peter pan. but you will catch it.

our interludes much more anais nin than maxim because despite physical meets fantastical needs, this monk has no desire to wander into the territory blazed by those beforehand keeping in mind the longevity of the interwebs. despite the lure of the medium and contextual ease technology offers to maintain closeness when in a state of longing, google is forever. and mbs have an errant habit of finding themselves publicly online at some unforseeable future date regardless of noble intentions. more often than not, the condom needs to be placed on the internet connection, not human.

so don't call me a prude & content yourself with an accidentally flashed nip or two, whimsical ruminations or barely discernible curved forms conjured with crushed blacks & pinks cast from the japanese lamp which sits aside my bed with the dodgy swinging bamboo we knocked that night scrambling for everything else on the table, in our heat-filled haze.

my porn tags are my own. as 
our banter development curve grows, with less reliance on habitual physical punctuation & the silence lessens, the weight of a rainbow spewing synced vibrations rates higher than any precious monochromatic mineral while we languish in our unfinished late night reflections. some things are still worth waiting the distance for. 

Friday, August 10, 2012

haiku: new love

new love
a negotiable minefield
of illusion

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

dizzy monk

this reminds me of that mos eisley bar scene where luke & ben first meet han solo & chewie...

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

these vagabond shoes...

are headed back your way new york. take two.
because if i can make it there, i can make it anywhere. let's see shall we?

Monday, June 25, 2012


something unexpected happened.

i woke up the other morning. fully clothed. not in my bed as had become usual. or even my house.

i was alone but haven't always been. encrusted in the previous night's make-up. coat, hat & boots still on. sounds of the previously partying warehouse around me sleepy & subdued. and i didn't think about you.

nor was there the burden of an omnipresent hangover because finally i had become bored of escapism, drowning my sorrows & wailing like a banshee on friends' shoulders, or conversely playing the man-eating femme fatale at an all-you-can-eat buffet. swings & roundabouts.

later when i returned home peering at the world unveiled through mascara glued lashes with the sun dancing on my back warming the heart which fused back whole as pieces bled back together in escalated time lapse mode, i felt happy & have ever since. then i realised it was finally over: the grief cycle done & dusted. acceptance reigns, pain diminished. anaesthesia can now be abandoned.

the time has come to reassemble the sabotaged pieces of my life. and shine once more. alone if need be. in true jonathon livingstone monk style.

i will miss you, but our flight paths will surely coincide without being weighed down by sadness & frustration that we couldn't quite meet & glide indefinitely way beyond the clouds where we thought destiny had fated us. i'm not going back to the flock, and won't live within perceived limitations. dimension shifts have many faces.

i wasn't born to drown in this ocean. nor were you. it's in us. the quest for perfection: love. we are meant to soar. SHORT WINGS!

fly well beloved IDTC. goodbye for now.

haiku: l'oreal dye box

l'oreal dye box 
untouched - fresh bouncing tresses 
man drowns. sud-filled drain.