In my nest of stones I have not slept. Upstairs the neighbors fight over how best to spend their time as it silently slips through the space between fingers.   As the last grains fall it seems reasonable to be present for those hours remaining.  The windows are dark in the townhouse across the way   but for a lamp shrouded in a rose colored scarf.  Stirred by the sound of an ocean breeze I imagine I am a pale warrior charged with the safety of sleeping birds as a cat passes by  casually eyeing them from a wire fence.  At last when  dawn  climbs above the ocean I can see deep amber on the shore,  the color of my lover’s eyes when aroused.  Those subtle  hues of gold  that glint and sparkle in my half empty glass.  I spend my  night rearranging decaying books,  drifting down smoke filled halls,  pillaging my mind.

 

 

108 thoughts on “Cave People

      1. Laurie really struggles with insomnia. I’m not too bad. But then I always have a bunch of cats laying on me keeping me from getting up and purring me back to sleep when I do wake up in the middle of the night.

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  1. Sleep comes hard these days. Not sure why. But, this vignette paints such a mystical scene with diffused rose light, a pale warrior guarding birds from the cat, time slipping by. My favorite is the ending rearranging decaying books, wandering down smoke filled halls, pillaging the mind. Now that is visual and cerebral. Another masterpiece is in the books.

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          1. I think I have some of your weather here too. I thrive in dreary times and like to shine no matter what. It doesn’t work all the time but when it does, best wear your good sunglasses. 😎😎

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          1. One doesn’t become a Diva Torch Singer without knowing how to use stilletto high heels to convince a person to change their mind. Indeed, don’t mess with Madame Russo in a dangerous way.

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          2. She really looks so glamorous in her gown and those stilettos. It’s easy to become mesmerized and slip up on the demands of public decorum and Madame Russo doesn’t let such things go unattended. 👠

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          3. That thread, like a spider’s silk floating on invisible currents making it appear as some saurian thing that lives at the border of love and pain. There, one can be on the side of love and in a moment fully in pain. But the thread never stops as long as earth and sky remain separated and so that current moves the line slowly here and slowly there while we chase in earnest the side in love. And that is the secret. When in love or pain, never remain still. Follow the undulations of the thread and be on the side of love when one can.

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          4. MLK was right. I’ve wrestled with unbridled hate until I realized, it only affected me and then I was over it for good. This comment came from that place I’ve sequestered myself in as I submerge myself in our next story based on your poem. I am at the stage of immersion where I dream of the story in real time. The characters are Karla and Viktor. It is a love story that begins early in Karla’s life and is pursued through every challenge until Viktor absorbs her into his life deeply and completely. Her epic pursuit of Viktor’s love far beyond their friendship is the no sin grave enough. This is not a noir tale but one about love’s obsession for all the right reasons. The style will hopefully be lyrical and descriptive in nature while sinking us deep into the emotions and dreams of a young Karla and then we follow her as she evolves into the young woman in love with a mysterious man. It’s a lovely story in my head if I can prize it out without any damage. 💕

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          5. Your poem is the true inspiration for the story Rene. You planted the spark and it definitely caught. This is really a measure of how much your poetry resonates with me and certainly with your large following of gentle souls who feel likewise. It’s a remarkable synergy. Must be the Absinthe or it could be my recent foray into Ceremonial Matcha made the ancient way. Both go very well with an evening at the House of Heart. Some day, you might do a reading of your poetry and giggle at my silly Head Elves swooning and falling out of my ears sprawled out on my shoulders. What a sight they would make.

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