Friday, October 29, 2010

I Just Want To Spend A Silent Night With You

I just want to spend a silent night with you. Knowing. Knowing what we once knew before and remembering what is and shall be forevermore. I just want to spend a silent night with you, Saturns rings and disheveled hair. I just want to spend a silent night with you because there is strength in the calico air. Wild flowers to be sewn with you, violets are forever blue just like magic mountain tops and I just want to spend a silent night with you.

© Words Wendy Rose Watson



Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Happy Birthday Sylvia Plath....Our Lady Lazarus

Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.God's lioness,How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees! --
The furrowSplits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck
I cannot catch,
Nigger-eye
Berries cast darkHooks --
Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.Something else
Hauls methrough air --
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.
WhiteGodiva, I unpeel --
Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child's cry
Melts in the wall.And I
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies
Suicidal,
at one with the drive
Into the red...
Eye, the cauldron of morning.


~ Sylvia Plath

I KNOW BRIDA


"I learned a long time ago about the Dark Night. I learned that the search for God is a Dark Night, that Faith is a Dark Night. None of us know what might happen even the next minute, and yet still we go forward. Because we trust, Because we have faith."


~  Brida by Paulo Coelho

Moths Like Black Angels Are The Only Ones For Me

And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.


Shakespeare~Julius Caesar





Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Old Love Doesn't Rust



The Hours. The Kiss. As if to confirm that old love doesn't rust. My first wardrobe work in film was on The Hours.....Phillip Glass.....Here....Above.....Beautiful....Just like time passages.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

I Want To Be Silent With You

Right now I want to be silent. Married to my music. Oh, and I am. Let that speak for me, forever. Words cannot describe these passages. Invisible. Seen. I've watched the black sabbath sun melt into the horizon. Holy. The arch always in mind. White horses. Churches. The milky green dress that's falling to the floor. The longing began when you walked out that door. So I sit here,on the edge of the laybrinth, looking in. You wearing a raincoat called desire. There are no streetcars. Famous and blue. Your Raincoat. Oh, how the birds laugh. How they sing over black diamond broken skies. Breathless and torn. My golden star. I don't feel so far from you and yet I feel you farther from me than ever. Pushing. Pulling. Signal when you can't breathe any more. Nightengale wing. Venus and her waters running all over me. This is it. This is the dawn. The God light. And, I could possibly be fading. Fading into you. Yeah, and you could just possibly, maybe be that tricked out jam that fades into me too. Skeleton keys. Seeds. Eggs. Dust. Paint. Offerings under the black feathered sun. The iris of my eye is ready to explode. Achy. God, here comes that word again. Achey. Oh,and we will, just like lovers do because everything has already come undone. And dresses fall to the floor. Haunted dresses like pale green silk. Right now I want to be silent with you - exploding and disappearing like rabbits aching in the burn.


© WORDS Wendy Rose Watson

Monday, October 18, 2010

A MOUTH LEARNED ON VALENTINE

The time has come, the walrus said, for you and I to stay in bed... Starting over is never easy. It is just that. Starting over. Back turned with eyes wide open. A lot to be said. Enjoy the silence. Face forward everyone knows what a woman like that looks like. Everyone knows what's already been said. The song remains the same. Spiny fins might catch a glimpse of light in the flicker. Time. Time is flowing like a river to the sea. Time has run into the sunset and become the moon. Someone once hung the moon for me. And now, I now hang the pictures myself.  And just like the cool rays of the damp afternoon with it's agenda-less agenda I long to recapture those moments when my breast wasn't sliced into my breathlessness. Agenda-less agenda. Yes. I hang here suspended in time with captures of winter and words that run together like words often do. Words like pale ghosts. Words with a mouth learned on Valentine. Words like a burning little ocean. Words that hang in the pale moonlight. Alabaster doves confirm that. I, the drunken wave of light can also bend shafts of light. Make shadows fall. I hung all of Saturns moons. And, now that I feel your breath on my path and feel you close behind in space the hour of departure arrives. I become like faded captures, too. The past is already dead. And, the ash of the volcano seems to be my magnetic slave. Oh, my fingertips never stop like the black keys of the piano. They don't know speak and spell. That is obvious. But they do. Like eyes staring into the night. Black and full of white glowing stars I fasten them on pictures. Mouth touches a sort of cosmic symphony There are three of us here. The holy trinity living darkly and deeply. The unbearable lightness of being. A birthright in fetal position. And, there is silent knowledge hidden within these gates of eternity. Another universe inside. So, I lay in this terrible, beautiful lightness of being and yes you will hear me because beauty is always heard, seen, eaten up so devour me. I offer it to you and I'm breathing with this little mouth that's learned on Valentine. 


©WORDS Wendy Rose Watson 



 




















Tuesday, October 12, 2010

It's Just The Rubies In My Hair.



Make me a temperment, make me fire and make me love as I am not a flame and it's just your eyes that deceive you..let's just call this love desire as I am only a chiffon burnout caress as you watch me fold into the night. I am the ravens song, hallelujah! I came from  black mountain ash of the Irish and it is I who found you out without eyes. I found you out with beak and with claw and I searched you with sapphire diamonds that landed in the back of my eyes. My eyes like the burning stars, in the bottomless river see so I blister and burn inside but stars don't burn and, neither do sapphires -- It's just the rubies in my hair, it must just be these rubies in my hair. They burn for you for they know thier place and oh how they burn in me.  


© Words Wendy Rose Watson 

It's Just Control

Who wouldn't want a good girl, a soft hand, a gentle woman for a gentleman? He said, "It's been fine so far but after a while I want more than a soft style. I want some slashes to go with those long eyelashes." And so the bedroom became the black room but a year later he wanted something more, something I wasn't quite prepared for. He said, "Every woman has an itch and every nice girl secretly wants to switch." I like how the skins look on your white hands. I'd like you to deliver one of my demands." He said, "Every woman has an itch and every nice girl wants to switch." He led me in and lit the room with a hundred candles and said "God never gives you more than you can handle." I sat astride his chest, "It's just a thrill," he said, as he relaxed on the dark, dark bed, "it's just breath control." He whispered "Hold me here" and I did and his head fell back. He whispered "Press harder" and I did and his eyes rolled back. It's just breath control. Just breath control. I saw him go pale. I saw him seize up, I felt something creep up like a taste for this. Like a reward. A kind of love, a kind of lustmord. It was a minute then three then five then ten, he wasn't coming up again. I held on for twelve. I saw him seize and thrash and twist and when he was still, I lifted away my wrists and looked at my hands and tried to understand. "It's just a thrill" I said as he relaxed on the dark, dark bed. I sat aside his chest, "It's just a thrill," he said, "just a thrill. It's just breath control. Control, control, it's just breath control, control, control. When it was over, I slipped off the skins and drowned them in the river where we used to swim and a year later in a shop, I was stopped by a man. He said, "I know you're looking for something that's hard to find and I think I have what you have in mind." And he led me to a glass case and looked deep into my face... "It's just control."


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