(no subject)

[omnia_mutantur]

cryptic thoughts of the day:

leaps of faith hurt like hell.
speaking of faith, i'd like a god right around now. i'd also like to know what i'm having for dinner.
my jaw aches.
i want more email.
i have a new favorite poem.
history's phone was busy all night last night.
i miss cherished.
i miss spark.
i miss junkyard.
i miss sanguine.
and many more, all in different ways.
i need to decide whether to take bellydancing at GCC, HCC or not at all.

Comments

[tisana.livejournal.com]

Can you share the new favorite poem? I'd like to hear it.

I'd say go for the belly dancing, but if you don't fall in love with it or if you get frustrated, don't assume it's your fault and something you'll never get. Not all who can dance are good teachers, and while the dance itself isn't difficult if you put effort in, convincing your mind and body that those moves are possible is one of the toughest parts.
Give it a chance.
If nothing else, you'll enjoy watching all the other women dancing, and will have challenged yourself.

[lilithchilde.livejournal.com]

We will spend some time next week. I promise. :)

[tethered.livejournal.com]

here is one of my favorite poems:

Not easy to state the change you made.
If I'm alive now, then I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,
Staying put according to habit.
You didn't just toe me an inch, no--
Nor leave me to set my small bald eye
Skyward again, without hope, of course,
Of apprehending blueness, or stars.

That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake
Masked among black rocks as a black rock
In the white hiatus of winter--
Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure
In the million perfectly-chiseled
Cheeks alighting each moment to melt
My cheek of basalt. They turned to tears,
Angels weeping over dull natures,
But didn't convince me. Those tears froze.
Each dead head had a visor of ice.

And I slept on like a bent finger.
The first thing I saw was sheer air
And the locked drops rising in a dew
Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay
Dense and expressionless round about.
I didn't know what to make of it.
I shone, mica-scaled, and unfolded
To pour myself out like a fluid
Among bird feet and the stems of plants.
I wasn't fooled. I knew you at once.

Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.
My finger-length grew lucent as glass.
I started to bud like a March twig:
An arm and a leg, an arm, a leg.
From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
Now I resemble a sort of god
Floating through the air in my soul-shift
Pure as a pane of ice. It's a gift.

-- s.p.

[harlenna.livejournal.com]

we need to get to that point where email addresses and phone #'s are exchanged. that would be good.

and i didn't help tie up history's phone this time, i swear! i was too busy tying up erin's instead (my erin, not the erin bjorn knows).

[starrfade.livejournal.com]

we could email ... not getting to know you better while I was in the Valley is one of the things I regret ^_^

[omnia-mutantur.livejournal.com]

i would enjoy that.

which sounds terribly cold and formal, when that's pretty much the opposite of my intent.