In this  hot and humid  night I doubt that  I am coherent.  Alone  in  bed  at two in the morning has teeth. When you leave I feel a visceral loneliness that I am certain is internal.  It always feels like April here.  I ramble on  about sunny meadows and how the wheat smells  of  lavender, tell you again about  the  painting that I am working on  and how it takes so long to dry.  I am acutely aware of the  momentum of  words and how I miss the  tender touch of your hand on my thigh.   My hands  are worn raw  in search of common ground but I haven’t the words to not betray myself after you have gifted me  your history.    Implicit trust frightens me.  I wonder how you  have such faith.   I consume all that you  give me  as though each secret could never be an infringement. When I  look  into your impossible  eyes  all I really want to do is  get drunk,  draw maps  upon your belly.

 

Shhhhh..

 

Pinterest Art/Photography

 

Advertisements

125 thoughts on “Cartography

  1. I think I’ve just received a post graduate class in how to write the purest romantic lines. I’ll stop now before I become a beslubbering mess in search of breath.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. LOL, don’t tell anyone, I never fail to learn from everyone I meet. Mostly, I like kindergarten because there is more arts and crafts time. You go straight to the top of my lifetime learning goals, which is to be the Grand Poobah of Prose. With your help, I’ll get there.

        Liked by 2 people

          1. And I do look forward to your visits. I see synergy, like sunshine and flowers. The more of one the better the other. It feels the same as meeting friends at the cafe Les Deux Magots or Le Procope off of Boulevard Saint-Germain in Paris. The place of artists and literary masters, the food so good, the coffee exquisite, and the friends who force involuntary smiles and laughter a wee bit too loud.

            Liked by 1 person

          2. Les Deus Magots is known for its superb cuisine and great place for creative people to hang out and exchange ideas. It has a high ceiling almost like a cathedral. And Le Procope roasts their own coffee beans for their famous coffee. Le Procope opened in 1686 and is also a famous meeting place for 17th and 18th century artists. Le Procope is a bit more cozy. Did I mention I love historical places and coffee? 🤔

            Liked by 1 person

          3. Le Procope sounds wonderful. I too love historical places and I was in Paris in 1993 and 2007, both times in April. I can’t recall where I ate, I stayed at The Grand Palace Hotel , it was lovely except my view was a brick wall. But I didn’t seem to mind. I went to all the “places” and of course the Moulin Rouge. I found European coffee a little strong for me. I didn’t have to travel far I was living in the Moselle Valley of Germany.

            Liked by 1 person

          4. Those were good times, no doubt. From one historic place to another. I can remember the excitement of being young and so full of adventure in Europe. I was madly in love with life and the great challenges it offered me. I loved the rich coffee but never quite got used to it being just tepid instead of hot. 2008 was my last trip. You know, in Paris as you went about your day, could you imagine dropping in on Hemingway and his moveable feast?

            Liked by 1 person

          5. Oddly I never really equate Paris with Hemingway Dan because for me Hemingway’s haunt is Key West and Cuba. I don’t think I was very aware of his Parisian roots. The fist time I saw Paris I was just 18 and unfortunately unaware of a lot of historical background.

            Liked by 1 person

          6. 18 is a magical age to live abroad. Youthful innocence is a powerful force that compells us to inquire into every mystery. I was a mere puppy of 27 and prone to fall in love with every wonderful person and place I saw in Europe. Everything was hard in those times; love, work, and play was equally exhausting. Hemingway was only 21 when he moved to Paris in 1921, I believe. He was 3 years younger than my grandmother who adored him. She was an English teacher as was my grandfather. I was thoroughly educated on Hemingway by my dear grandmother who made sure I visited his house and cats in Key West. I think part of my own adventurous and dangerous life was from Hemingway’s image as the man’s man planted in my budding little mind by my grandmother who had only two goals in life for me; to have good manners and to write well. I dont always live up to her lasting expectations, but she also taught me to never give up on a worthy goal. As you might have suspicioned, I have a collection of Hemingway’s complete published works. And as you probably also surmised, he spent a lot of time in Les Deux Magot and Le Procope filling in the pages of his Moleskine notebook and alternating between coffee in the morning, absinthe in the afternoon, and wine in the evening. It’s just my guess, but I feel your spirit would have soared in those turbulent times after the war where people were hell bent to reestablish their connection to the arts, to live in bright colors, and libertarian ways in order to put the suffocating darkness of war behind them. It was another springtime for humanity.

            Liked by 1 person

          7. So very true, Rene. Memories of those days are like a summer day lounging on the beach with calm seas. They are warm and comfortable, long removed from the crush of emotion and exhilaration of adrenaline. I remember the very moment I changed into a responsible adult. Part of me never let go of Peter Pan and Wendy, but appearing as a responsible citizen became a necessity. To circle back to your masterful poem, you have a way of letting me relive the best moments of the past by relating the images and emotions of poetry to a now mellow memory of past scenes but now with the very best words to describe it. For me, there is a lot of joy in doing that

            Liked by 1 person

          8. I relate very well to your deeply spiritual scribblings Rene. 😍 Once my eccentricities land me in the old soldier’s home in Gainsville, I plan to go full time Peter Pan. There will be secret raids on the ice cream machine, outdoor wheel chair races, whoopie cushion competitions, and water ballon dodge ball. You can drop by and cheer us on 😁

            Liked by 1 person

          9. Fantastic! It will be a great day. 😁 You can be an honorary Wendy in our Peter Pan club. Well, unless you would rather be Tinker Bell. The Director will be Captain Hook and the staff will be all of his pirates. Yep, we’re going to be a lively bunch. 🥳🥳🥳😴

            Liked by 1 person

          10. Haha ha! Tinkerbell is always buzzing around and easy to mistake for a dragonfly. Wendy it is. 👍🏼. I better get busy putting the venue together and to win, I’m going to need a bigger whoopie cushion.

            Liked by 1 person

          11. Just keep telling yourself these old folks are really having a good time. Well, maybe it’s just me having a good time. Everyone else is probably wondering why those old dudes in the rec center are bouncing up and down on their wheel chairs, and who’s squeezing the catsup bottle like a maniac over there 👉🏼 😂😂😂😂💨🎶

            Liked by 1 person

          12. You know as we get older, our filters stop working efficiently and we say or do things that proper manners and protocols would normally forbid. I think this sets us free to enjoy ourselves without concern for embarassment or shame. It’s a process at first, but once the cage door is left open, we escape to shake, rattle, and roll as we can, baring any unfortunate damage to important body parts. ♿️

            Liked by 2 people

          13. Waaa haaa haaaa! The last time I was embarassed and ashamed was 1983 in Denver when I came to my senses after the waitress told me, “ no shirt, no shoes, no service.” Apparently, I had taken my shirt off to show my new back tattoo, an anatomically correct flying Pegasus, to some friends. I could tell the waitress really liked my tattoo so she volunteered to throw me out. Now, with no filters, life is better. 🥳

            Liked by 1 person

          14. Yes having no filter is difficult in gentle social settings. I blame my years of being a fleabitten grumpy old non commissioned officer. I sharpened my claws each morning on a young tender private just to stay mean and grumpy. I think all that great effort to ensure I was insensitive and politically incorrect had an effect on me. But, I’ve been out long enough to mellow out and lately I think I saw signs of being human. Being human is a severe weakness but I dont care anymore. I kinda like it now that people aren’t afraid to pet me or play fetch the stick. 😉🐺

            Liked by 1 person

          15. I have a feeling you wreaked fear in the hearts of many a poor recruit. We were Air Force, fortunately I was not exposed to the hardships. I admire women who are natural soldiers, I don’t agree with drafting women. I’m sure no one would want me to have their back. I can tell you have mellowed and that you are enjoying life, being human is hard but worth it. 😉

            Liked by 1 person

          16. You are right, being human is really hard but it’s the challenge I enjoy. I think as long as we have an all voluntary military, we don’t need a draft. I can’t believe we haven’t abolished draft registration already. If you served in a job that you believed in, you would have everyone’s back and of course you do that now. Because that is who you are. 🤗. I learned long ago that real heroes are the invisible ones that care about others and in spite of horrendous fear and self doubt, rise above it and do what has to be done without regard to their safety, reward, or recognition.

            Liked by 1 person

      1. I love maps, especially the old ones with the legends here be monsters…I sometimes hate that the whole world has been mapped, every inch is now terra cognita…give me the surrealist map of the world anyday

        Liked by 1 person

          1. I am sure they are having a ball. People who are good candidates for heaven wouldn’t exactly make for entertaining dinner party guests, but they would enliven any occasion.

            Liked by 1 person

          2. As Ballard said he is the specter at the feast of European letters. Whenever anyone decides to let him in from the cold he leaves footprints of human blood on the welcome mat.

            Liked by 1 person

  2. I was telling myself the other day that I must come and visit.
    Now I’m wondering what took me so long.
    This went right to my core. You have expressed that which lies deep.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. It’s about bloody time, dontcha think? That I visit, I mean? I love your contributions with Resa so… If I remember correctly, it’s Holly, right?
        It did. Very much so mostly because this this coming a couple days after my birthday. I feel the loss of my husband most on that day – weirdly.

        Liked by 1 person

          1. I wasn’t fishing for wishes 😉
            It’s one of the “events” of the year. He’s been gone for four years but there are soooo many memories – and I unabashedly use him as my muse quite often 😉 He was a major klutz and has left me with more than one story to tell 😉

            Liked by 1 person

          2. I really can relate Dale. We never get over that absence. I hope your memories will bring a smile to you…I know your weren’t expecting wishes, but I still hope you had a super birthday! 🙂

            Liked by 1 person

          3. No we don’t. And if you stick around my blog, you’ll see they bring more than a smile. They bring lots of laughs. And yes, I did have a nice one, thanks.

            Like

Comments are now closed.