Willmore Wilderness Park, w/Owen, Aug.09

splendid trip.

Dream

Often any reference of you when I sleep is horrible, tortuous,--- but just once you were made faithful, if only momentarily. Against the white wall your splendour infused my dream. An assured beauty unique to you; so pure and pretty. Urging me forward, naked with sweat, in the webbing of your fingers, thinly painted between your breasts. You spoke to me with your eyes, the shape of your body, the grace of your movement; Your meaning was heroic: Confession and Love. Slowly, you held your hand out to me and I touched your fingers to my face. I truly felt your love again. But then, as in reality, after your confession of love, you kept walking slowly into the darkness, away from me, in search of something 'better', with no explanation beyond the distance you forced between us. And I awoke, moved again by both your love and hate.

"And even in our sleep..."

The Remorse of Orestes (1862)
by William Adolphe Bourguereau

"And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God."
- Aeschylus

---
(disclaimer: written in anger, sorrow, jealousy and frustration after one of the worst night's of my life...still, I stand by what is said, even if the spirit in which it is said is uglier than I should allow--- venter's venting venting... no one reads this shit anyway...bah!)
Truly, I feel haunted by the estrangement of my former love. Grim moments when I am jilted awake from my slumber; tormented by, dare I say, an almost psychic-connection made real through my years of loyalty (twinning). And in those dark hours when I try to sleep peacefully after an honest day of reflection and right effort; after exerting myself during the waking hours to maintain my mindful existence--at night I am repeatedly victimized. I am left helpless--- accosted in my dreams in repeated rejection, but there has been two such times where I might be so compelled as to reason that the actual dread that stirred me from nightmares of her engaging in loveless carnality--- what on my end manifests itself as physical pain and suffering, really is, in actual fact, something that solely occurs in unison with the empty, physical ecstasy she now partakes of so easily, with such undear confidence, blindness and nonchalance. Still, I'll take it. I take it all. It's 'positive' in the sense that I am always receiving information, I absorb each blow and each disappointing message. For each stab my heart receives it helps me realize the power I have, the integrity I retain by my own emotional might in feeling grief; my understanding of true beauty, of tragedy and respectfully appreciating loss. I mourn because I can, because I am capable of mourning, I see it as a virtue. The inability to mourn, well, I see it as beyond shameful, but it's an ugly truth I'm getting used to. Such discourteous rejection paired and so mercilessly synchronized with the aforementioned "sex/stab" unison is but one more tool I plan to utilize. And so again, the truth, by 'psychic-connection' or 'dreadful anecdote', painstakingly removes the saintly beauty I created about her; that same self-sabotaging illusion that so wildly deceived me, well, she is weakening, indeed 'by the awful grace of God.'

Be Not Sad: James Joyce

Be Not Sad
by James Joyce

Be not sad because all men
Prefer a lying clamour before you:
Sweetheart, be at peace again -- -
Can they dishonour you?

They are sadder than all tears;
Their lives ascend as a continual sigh.
Proudly answer to their tears:
As they deny, deny.

The Stranger by Leonard Cohen

The Stranger
by Leonard Cohen

It's true that all the men you knew were dealers
who said they were through with dealing
Every time you gave them shelter
I know that kind of man
It's hard to hold the hand of anyone
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.

And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind
you find he did not leave you very much not even laughter
Like any dealer he was watching for the card
that is so high and wild
he'll never need to deal another
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger.

And then leaning on your window sill
he'll say one day you caused his will
to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter
And then taking from his wallet
an old schedule of trains, he'll say
I told you when I came I was a stranger
I told you when I came I was a stranger.

But now another stranger seems
to want you to ignore his dreams
as though they were the burden of some other
O you've seen that man before
his golden arm dispatching cards
but now it's rusted from the elbows to the finger
And he wants to trade the game he plays for shelter
Yes he wants to trade the game he knows for shelter.

Ah you hate to watch another tired man
lay down his hand
like he was giving up the holy game of poker
And while he talks his dreams to sleep
you notice there's a highway
that is curling up like smoke above his shoulder
and suddenly you feel a littlt older

You tell him to come in sit down
but something makes you turn around
The door is open you can't close your shelter
You try the handle of the road
It opens do not be afraid
It's you my love, you who are the stranger
It's you my love, you who are the stranger.

Well, I've been waiting, I was sure
we'd meet between the trains we're waiting for
I think it's time to board another
Please understand, I never had a secret chart
to get me to the heart of this
or any other matter
When he talks like this
you don't know what he's after
When he speaks like this,
you don't know what he's after.

Let's meet tomorrow if you choose
upon the shore, beneath the bridge
that they are building on some endless river
Then he leaves the platform
for the sleeping car that's warm
You realize, he's only advertising one more shelter
And it comes to you, he never was a stranger
And you say ok the bridge or someplace later.

And leaning on your window sill ...
I told you when I came I was a stranger.

"An insincere and...": Buddha

"An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind." - Buddha

Pembina (late post)

In Morning

(click pic for larger image)

Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning: Morrissey

Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning
by Morrissey

Always looking for attention
Always needs to be mentioned
Who does she
Think she should be ?
The shrill cry through darkening air
Doesn't she know he's
Had such a busy day ?

Tell her ... sshhh
Somebody tell her ... sshhh
Oh, no way, no way, there's no movement
Oh, oh, hooray
Slowest ...


It was only a test
But she swam too far
Against the tide
She deserves all she gets
The sky became marked with stars
As an out-stretched arm slowly
Disappears


Hooray
Oh hooray
No, oh, oh, woh, there's no movement
No, oh, hooray
Oh, hooray


Please don't worry
There'll be no fuss
She was ... nobody's nothing


(What's your name ?)
(What's your name ?)
(What's your name ?)
(What's your name ?)


When he awoke
The sea was calm
And another day passes like a dream
There's no ... no way

(What's your name ?)
(What's your name ?)
(What's your name ?)
(What's your name ?)