Farewell to a thousand things

Window Reflection by HunterChanel

Life is short. Grasp what you can get.
A moment passed is past, like sand through your fingers.
For every missed chance, a fleeting moment, regret lingers.

Memories of what we had stay with us,
Taunting with might-have-beens, alternate futures,
What doctors can’t fix with a million sutures.

Forever chasing moonbeams
And all the little things you are.
Farewell to a thousand things.

Drifting through life on an endless conveyor,
Nameless people in distant places, now lost.
Time spent naming friendly faces, at what cost.

Forever dreaming visions
Of all the little things you are.
Farewell to a thousand things.

Time unending, now unbending,
Facing east, ever forward.
Can’t look back.

Forever losing details
Of all the little things you were.
Farewell to those thousand things.

Time unending, now unbending,
Facing east, ever forward.
Don’t look back.

Don’t explain

IMG_0981

Don’t explain, I don’t want to know.
close the door when you go.

It was your transgression that killed love
I wasn’t perfect, but you weren’t close.

Don’t explain, I don’t want to hear.
She was my friend, wasn’t that clear?

Our trust is a torn curtain, gone,
A broken thread can’t be rewoven.

Don’t explain, I don’t want you here.
I can’t stand having you near

You hardly knew her, or so you said,
Until I found her in our bed.

Don’t explain, I don’t want to know.
close the door when you go.

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (33. Evol Deklaw ni)

That’s In Walked Love, backwards. There’s a jazz tune by that name. Our big band at Uni played it.

TWO of CUPS (inverted). Love. Harmony of male and female in the largest sense and all that goes with it, pleasure, warmth, etc. Inverted, it could mean folly, dissipation or waste.

Or it could mean the loss of love. Allen asked for the ring back. I can understand why. I haven’t worn it since my epiphany … um, episode. I still love him, I think, but I can’t reconcile what I’ve done … sleeping with Max, then allowing myself to be possessed.

The worst part of it all is blabbing … blogging all about it. That alienated Allen, and was generally unforgivable. I don’t blame him. Maybe it is time to pull the plug. I know you wank … want to heal … hear all about my infatuation with Marcel and my time as the High Priestess of the coterie. Maybe you want me to give in to my bisexual fantasies and shake up … shack up with Evie or go back to London and Christa. She’s too young for me, and I wouldn’t want the responsibility of healing … helping to rear her daughter.

Frankly, what happens in the coterie is probably secret, and I need to heal … hence the reason I keep typing that word when I mean to type something else. Yes, my soul needs time to heal, and adding my verbal diarrhoea to the Internet probably isn’t helping matters.

So that means I’m going to cool it for a while. I’ll pop back when I feel strong enough. Eirica is almost finished. She’s won her man (as much as she wanted to), and all that is left is a short epilogue, which I’ll post in a few days. I don’t know what I’ll do with that blog afterwards. Maybe start a new story … a story of healing … a story of becoming Scottish … a magical story of ghosts, castles … of healing. Who knows where I’ll take it. Anyway …

The bite-marks still hurt.

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (5. Tears)

I received an email from Christa today. Do you remember her? She was my not-so-talented little horn student, who has become a remarkably constant email companion, especially since she has come out as being bi-sexual. Apparently something happened on her wedding night that changed her, or at least resulted in some sort of epiphany. It brought out a declaration of love – for me. I don’t understand it. She knew what she was getting into – she was already 4 months pregnant! What is it with me that attracts both gay women and gay men?

THREE of SWORDS. Sorrow. The essence of melancholy, unhappiness, tears, absence … and just about everything else associated with it.

Christa’s email brought sad news. Tom (her husband) and Jason (one of my more-talented former students) died together in an auto accident on the way to a gig last night. She would have phoned, but it was in the middle of the night – when I was probably awake anyway. That’s horrible! Two talented musicians gone in a split second on the M3. A lorry jumped the median barrier and landed right on their car. Sad … tragic …

Sorry. I needed a few minutes to compose myself. Where was I? Oh yes …

Christa is going to come see me after the funeral. She’s desperate to get away from it all. Although she took this year off from her studies to have her baby, it looks like she won’t be able to go back any time soon, now that she’s a single mom. (I’m paying for her flight. She’ll bring her infant daughter along, too.)

Christa. I didn’t realize that she was an avid follower. She’s read all my old blogs, and was the first to subscribe to my new series. That’s scary. She knows how I feel about her, and she knows that I’ll be uninhibited with my thoughts about her here. You know I will!

Max? I had to take a shower after Skyping with him tonight, so I’m nice and clean now. My bedroom stills smells like honey … and that’s not from my shampoo. He’s dropped the facade now. His wife is openly watching, too. (At least he says she is his wife.) He had her in on the act tonight, as naked as I was. Still, he remained fully-clothed. At least, now I can be certain that he had a real orgasm. (Thanks to … what was her name? … Jemima? I’ll just call her Puddle-duck. There was a puddle in his lap.)

Yes, it was as kinky as it sounded. He waited until just before my first climax to introduce her into the equation. The honey was her idea, too. He poured some on her as I watched – and then I poured it on me … let’s not go into further detail. (I feel oddly embarrassed about it.)

I did, however, notice a distinct lack of affection between them. (She seemed more interested in me.)

Not again!

Now, I feel really dirty. (I’m so sorry Christa. Tonight of all nights!) Will I answer his call tomorrow night? Regrettably, I probably will.

Look ma! No st-s-st-stut-t-t-t- … well, I blew that one. That was even a proper stutter, not just a verbal ejaculation. (I haven’t properly stuttered since I was a child.)

Good night lovelies. (Christa – I am so sorry about Tom.)

A Golden Sea

On the street where I live
Sat a beggar with a lisp
Said he knew my soul
Would make it whole.

On the stoop by my home
Came the urge to roam
My heart, split in two,
he struck me through.

Forever broken, my search for peace
Forever broken, give me release
Forever broken, I’ve got to go
Forever broken, where I don’t know.

In the light it was clear,
A voice I wanted to hear,
His voice pleading in the night,
My love touching, without sight.

Forever broken, my search for peace
Forever broken, give me release
Forever broken, I’ve got to go
Forever broken, where I don’t know.

In the sun there is a road to him
In the sun, pure delight,
Fire free, a golden sea, a golden sea.

Forever broken, my search for peace
Forever broken, give me release
Forever broken, I’ve got to go
Forever broken, where I don’t know.

On the dusty road I traveled,
The rest of me unraveled.
Soul naked from the start
To mend my aching, broken heart.

In the sun there is a road to him
In the sun, pure delight,
Fire free, a golden sea, a golden sea.

Strapless

she had everything I wanted
most of all his notice
I saw him watching
like he used to watch me
when I was her age

perfect arse in her black Levis
full red lips with no make up
… that was my trick

one more button loose
showing off what I never had
his eyes followed them as she passed
and he doesn’t even go for breasts
or maybe just not my paltry pair

she sat tuning her viola
right in front of him
… I was occupied elsewhere

I remember when that was my seat
now, I couldn’t be further away
damn European orchestras
I’ll take an American band any day
just to be where I belong

he liked to watch my back
sultry nights in the pit
… when I went strapless

he was mine then
had his total attention
now he window shops
blond hair, blue eyes
twenty, could be his daughter

our daughter, if I’d had my way
look, but don’t touch
… touch me instead

I know he looks still
but not like that
damn drooling bugger
where did I go wrong?
we’re ancient history

ancient, yes, a passing fancy, she
too old for that babe, I remind him,
… not in so many words

she’s there now
but I still hold the cards
he knows where to find me
all I have to do is turn around
I wore my strapless tonight

It rained today

it rained today,
and I thought of you
I do everyday

lying in bed
watching the mosquitos
bouncing off the ceiling
thats me, unable to hold on,
hold you

the sun came out
and I thought of you
then the clouds returned

you are the light, my light
my centre of gravity
you follow me, following you
like a dog and its tail
silly, isn’t it

it was cold today
and I thought of your warmth
but you turned frosty

it was my fault that you left
there was no other way
if I let you in again
would you touch my desire,
or just stoke the flame?

it rained today
and I thought of you
never will I stop