hai·ku
Pronunciation: 'hI-(")kü
Function: noun
Etymology: Japanese
: an unrhymed verse form of Japanese origin having three lines containing usually 5, 7, and 5 syllables respectively
Ramblings of a 50 something, artiste, biker chick, singer and lover of life! I have been a Customer Service Agent for local government, a Motorcycle Safety Instructor, a massage instructor, a safety columnist. I am a Licensed Massage Therapist.
Every day I'm amazed and thrilled by the differences in people. How boring it would be if we were all the same... stop trying to "fit in" won't you?
If this is your first time here, please visit the Archives.
I rarely find a 'superfood' that makes a real impact on my health (excluding Coconut Oil, of course, that stuff is da bomb!). But, I've been adding blackstrap molasses to my morning coffee for several months now and I've noticed a dramatic improvement in my usual fatigue associated with my autoimmune issues. It's not gone, mind you, but it is Noticeably improved.
If you think you need a boost in your iron level (or calcium, magnesium, vitamin B6, selenium, etc) you might want to give it a try. I know a lot of people are going to cringe at the thought of the taste of molasses. It IS pretty strong. Thankfully, I have a love for the flavor as my father would mix it with softened butter and spread on my toast and I guess that memory alone makes it a yummy flavor sensation. But it IS a very demonstrative flavor, to say the least. I'm so used to it in my coffee now, I crave the taste. I can also enjoy it in a cup of strong black tea.
I think it's good in cold milk (see article) as a milkshake or in warm milk. I even enjoy it mixed into plain yogurt or kefir.
I think we'd all get along, in this life, much better if we just realize that every word, every slight, every hurt feeling that we receive… Is an expression of the speaker/giver's self-worth. Look at it from the position that they are expressing their own thoughts and feelings about themselves than about you.
Of course, I say that from the position of someone who does not like to create pain in other people.
If you're one of those I can only say 'do unto others',
Although Quantum Physics (and physics in general) give me a Quantifiable headache... I'm finding His Holiness' book much more enjoyable and understandable than most in the genre.
You can check out NaHaiWriMo here! It stands for National Haiku Writing Month. As it says on the site, "Write one haiku a day for the month of February! Why February? Because it’s the shortest month—for the world’s shortest genre of poetry."
Interestingly, the logo is
The reason for the No 5-7-5 logo is because, strictly speaking, Haiku have the 5-7-5 rule Only in Japanese. And then, they are counting sounds Not syllables.
So why do I always write using the 5-7-5 blueprint? Because I like having constraints which force me to consolidate my thoughts... it could as easily be 7-9-7 or 10-12-10. I guess that's why I also like Twitter
If you follow NaHaiWriMo on Facebook, you will find that they give you a prompt word for each day of the month. Try to write haiku every day and try to incorporate the prompt.
And so, today, the prompt word is 'Nuclear'.
And being the nutty, whimsical person that I am... I had to screw with it:
I belong to a bazillion art/craft/doodle Facebook groups (which I have a devil of a time keeping up with, I might add). Someone on one of them asked how I did a particular pattern on one of my gift letters I posted previously. You will see I'm not the most proficient video producer/director/cameraperson but I shot a quick lil vid to show her and anyone else how I did it. I don't know if it has a name as it's a conglomeration of several different patterns (cadent, yew-dee, well). I just call it my
Have you made any resolutions for 2015? I know the general consensus is: Why make them when we usually don't DO them???
I haven't Reeeeeally made any. Well, I have promised myself to TRY to do some type of art each and every day. I can probably stick to that one. And as usual I promise myself I'll blog more but if you've been following (heh), you see that doesn't really work out, though I AM going to try again this year... No, REALLY!
And I've created a "Happiness Jar" to hold a note, trinket or other Memory for each day of 2015. I got this idea from Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love (one of my all-time FAVE books) and many other great books!
Thanks to a meme sent me by a Facebook friend, I'm supposed to post 5 things about myself.
I started this list LONG ago, it's supposed to be "100 Facts About Me" but I'm stuck at 60 at the moment.
I know, it's a bit of overkill.
1. I trust too easily.
2. I use "awesome" too much.
3. I want to live by the sea.
4. I love too easily, I fall quickly (though as I get older I'm much more wary)
5. I'm crazy about John Prine's music.
6. I'm into herbalism & aromatherapy and I really miss my herb garden.
7. I love lava lamps (have 2, want more)
8. I can be VERY impatient.
9. I'm a techie freak (yes, this is obvious)
10. I HATEHATEHATE being ignored.
11. I'm crazy about kale, collards, mustard greens, turnip greens... All things green.
12. A friend said that I've never met a stranger... guess he's right!
13. I know all the words to Jesus Christ Superstar, The Sound of Music and Rocky Horror Picture Show
14. I know all the words (in spanish) to Shakira's Waka Waka & Te Dejo Madrid & the words (in german) to Nena's 100 Luft Ballons
15. I used to be a Safety columnist for a local motorcycling magazine.
16. I have been at my day job for 33+ years.
17. I have some of the BEST friends a girl could ever have.
18. I've recently lost some that I THOUGHT were friends (see # 1)
19. I'm a friend forever... you'd have to do something Awful to lose me. (and then I will still probably pine away for the loss. Yep, that's happening NOW)
20. I DON'T sing in the shower, just every where else.
21. I like to color.
22. I wear my heart on my sleeve.
23. I read vampire novels and bondage stories (and vampire bondage? stories) but NO Harlequin (or other pulp) romances.
24. I'm a sexual adventurer (or used to be... this IS an old list)
25. I want to learn how to sing opera.
26. I write haiku
27. I love Harry Potter
28. I believe in Reincarnation.
29. I believe Chocolate is a food group. (and essential)
30. I'm a die-hard Trekkie
31. I love theme park rides.
32. Sometimes, if not careful... I can be a bit of a hermit.
33. I have a permit to carry a weapon.
34. I like Pitbull's music and I think he's sexy.
35. I never met an ethnic cuisine I didn't like... so far.
36. I love Diet Dr. Pepper (guilty pleasure)
37. I'm a fixer and it hurts when I can't.
38. I like Super Hero/comicbook movies
39. I sing at the top of my lungs while driving.
40. I have an ancestor who was convicted of witchcraft in Mass.
41. I'm an eternal optimist (though that's been sorely tortured lately).
42. I believe in the liberal use of Primal Screams.
43. I make my own yogurt, quark, ricotta, sauerkraut and kefir.
44. I'll draw on most anything.
45. I thought 50 Shades Of Grey was lame and the writing juvenile.
46. I liked the Twilight series.
47. I, on occasion, "cuss like a sailor"
48. I wish my parents had made me take music lessons.
49. I have won a contest by singing to a D.J. in public.
50. I have flown a plane.
51. I have flown IN a stunt plane.
52. and I have flown in an Open Cockpit Stunt plane (different occasion).
53. I hate discussing politics.
54. I have voted in every election since I was of age.
55. I have donated gallons and gallons of blood in my lifetime.
56. I once donated a 30+ inch ponytail to Locks of Love
57. I sometimes wish I'd become a psychiatrist/psychologist.
58. I miss teaching.
59. I prefer to be barefoot.
60. I have three tattoos.
61.
#100factsaboutme
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
I've fallen back into the genealogy pit-of-hell! Well, it's not hell but it is a sickness from which relief is hard-won. I've recently received my AncestrybyDNA kits. Here's a good article about DNA testing and genealogy research:
So, anyone who does massage knows that a routine (which is never Really routine, btw) relaxation massage is a good time for the therapist to chill, meditate, mellow out. We're there and on point, mind you, but we are in the zone and relaxed. Honestly, it is just as relaxing for us as for the client. Anyway, during two or three different massages I have, in my head, written an entire article tentatively entitled "What your therapist won't tell you (but probably should)." Yes, indeed, I've 'written' the whole damn thing only to walk out of the massage room forgetting every word except the general concept. I keep trying to get it on paper but... oh well, it's a work in progress.
Somewhat unrelated, though not entirely so, I have decided to return to my blog in earnest and try to post on a daily basis. As I am finishing my massage article or until I start a new one... you will be enjoying (grinning and bearing?) some pointless yet entertaining drivel. You're welcome!
Oh, here's one to start! All together now...
Note: in the vid you hear me yell "it's my theme song". Just to point out, I do not mean I am "evil" necessarily. The motorcycle I used to ride was a HD Sportster with an EVOlution engine. So, my license plate said "EVO WMN" GET IT?? heh heh
Okay, maybe I AM a little evil.
So, as this article quips, apparently Spritzing is a 'thing' now.
First, let me say I LOVE technology. I love the internet and most of the joys it has brought us. I am truly "Plugged in" and I rarely have the desire to disconnect. But I'm also an avid reader, a reader for pleasure. It became pleasurable for me in spits and spurts. I have always been an easy learner and I retain a lot of what I learn. But, I was one of those "slow readers", one of those children placed in a 'special' reading class. I can remember it as somewhat embarrassing for me. Why the education system deems it useful to stigmatize a child as a "slow reader" is subject for another post. All in all, it didn't do me too much damage. I graduated from the public school system near the top of my class.
I have a theory that my "slow reading" actually helps me retain information. I find it necessary to read every single word or I feel like I'm a slacker of sorts. This is why I have never wanted to take a Speed Reading course, skipping words just feels wrong to me.
Now, there is Spritzing. Spritz is a speed reading app. The app works by flashing words or groups of short words in quick succession into one stationary window. I'm a little intrigued as this is not a skipping of words technique. But, as I can see using this for articles, text books and other nonfiction reading material it just doesn't appeal to me for leisure reading. When I read a novel I want to caress each word, ponder it and move on to the next in my own time. Granted, it takes me a while to finish a good sized book. But, it IS pleasurable. I may very well download the app and give it a try but I will continue to read novels in the way I always have... slowly. Heck, I just recently embraced ebooks and I'm still trying to convince myself that audiobooks are not Cheating!
Check out this article on HuffPost, it sums up my thoughts quite well:
I've fallen back into the abyss. I've gotten the genealogy bug again, thanks to my roommate.
Here is a list of the surnames from which I am decended:
ADAMS
ALDRICH
ASKEW
AUSTIN
BADGET
BUCHANAN
CLEMENTS
CLOYCE
D'HAASE
DAY
DE BEER
DeBRUYNE
DeLAMAR
EDWARDS
ELLIOT/ELLIOTT/ELIOT
FLEMING
HALL
HARRINGTON
HARRIS
HAYWARD
HICKS
LIGNIAN/DeLIGNIAN/DeLEEGE
LITTLEFIELD
LUCK
PROVENDER
ROUW
RYAN
SEAY
SMITH
STANLEY
THAYER
VAN DEN BOOGART
VERSTRAATEN
WILLIAMS
WILTGEN
ACNE
(copied from Modern Essentials: A Contempory Guide To The Therapeutic Use of Essential Oils)
Acne is a skin condition, generally of the face, commonly found in adolescents and young adults. Acne is characterized by red, irritating blemishes (pimples) on the skin. Most commonly, acne is found on the oil-pr...oducing parts of the body such as the face, chest, back, upper arms and back of neck. Acne is a blockage of a skin pore by dead skin cells, tiny hairs, and oil secreted by the sebaceous glands located near the hair follicles in the face, neck and back. This blockage occurs deep within the skin. Acne is not currently believed to be caused by dirt on the face or by eating certain foods and research has indicated that over-scrubbing the face may actually make acne worse.
A good line regarding D.C.: "Something has to be between us and Virginia—and, oh, hey, it happens to be you."
I like the analogies (and trust me, analogies usually annoy me)... and if I may add to that,
If DC is "...the... sensitive kid, upper-middle-class, high achiever."
And Baltimore is "... this other girl (Baltimore), a loner, working-class (not too hard on the eyes in an earthy, winsome way)"
Perhaps the south (VA?) is: the sturdy, homespun but pretty girl you met in Vo-Ag class, who could do anything from rearing babies, planting a garden and changing the brakes on her car... at the same time... not the prom queen but someone with whom you knew you could spend your life.
We (southerners) pretty much think of N.Y. as the "big city", Baltimore as urban, historic, quaint and we mostly think of D.C. as ... dirty, literally AND figuratively.
Generally speaking, we women are not a pragmatic lot (except when we absolutely must be), we read romances yet don't necessarily believe in "happily ever after", we like fairy tales but we don't think they're real.
When you say "forever", "I promise", etc... do we believe you?
In my case, probably not. But do we want to Hear it? Yes. Yes. Yes.
It's not living in a fantasy, it's not believing fairy tales... it's grabbing a moment of happiness because who knows what will happen next.
I don't mind if you use Text/IM acronyms to cut typing time, BUT when speaking... Please Don't say: 'OH EM GEE' or 'EL OH EL' or AR OH TEE EF EL or anything like that... sounds DEE YU EM BEE!!!
Some nights, I call it a draw
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle
Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for oh
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don't know anymore...
oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh
oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh
This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for?
Why don't we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype - save that for the black and white
I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked, but here they come again to jack my style
And that's alright; I found a martyr in my bed tonight
She stops my bones from wondering just who I am, who I am, who I am
Oh, who am I? Oh, who am I? mmm... mmm...
Well, some nights, I wish that this all would end
Cause I could use some friends for a change
And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again
Some nights, I always win, I always win...
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don't know... (come on)
So this is it? I sold my soul for this?
Washed my hands of that for this?
I miss my mom and dad for this?
No. When I see stars, when I see, when I see stars, that's all they are
When I hear songs, they sound like this one, so come on
Oh, come on. Oh, come on, OH COME ON!
Well, this is it guys, that is all - five minutes in and I'm bored again
Ten years of this, I'm not sure if anybody understands
This one is not for the folks at home; Sorry to leave, mom, I had to go
Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?
My heart is breaking for my sister and the con that she call "love"
But when I look into my nephew's eyes...
Man, you wouldn't believe the most amazing things that can come from...
Some terrible nights...ahhh...
The other night, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had about you and me
I called you up, but we'd both agree
It's for the best you didn't listen
It's for the best we get our distance... oh...
It's for the best you didn't listen
It's for the best we get our distance... oh...
Some say it's just a Facebook meme ('just'?? isn't Facebook the authority on Evahthang?)...
Here's the message floating around:
It's International Book Week. The rules: grab the closest book to you, turn to page 52, post the 5th sentence as your status. Don't mention the title. Copy the rules as part of your status.
I've googled and I've googled and I've googled and can't seem to confirm or deny that it IS International Book Week. Hmm. Actually, here's what Wikipedia says: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Book_Week
Also, I've seen the rules change slightly as to which page, which sentence... bah!
Well, makes no never-mind to me. I guess the real fun is the part about "don't mention the title". Sooooooo, let's stick to the rules above and let's play the game... And... Ready, Set... GO!
Page 52, Sentence 5: "She watched her brother grab the ring of keys from the wall, then lead the pretty girl out the back door of the bakery and into the little, weed-choked courtyard behind."
... not usually something I'm terribly interested in. I
have my "style"... some might say it's a lack there of. Nonetheless, I
saw a story about Carine Roitfeld on CBS Sunday Morning and was fascinated. A fashion model in her youth, she's now VERY accomplished in her late fifties. What
fascinates me is the fact that she's not afraid of aging, indeed, she
celebrates it and she doesn't hide the fact that she's a very sexual,
alluring being even though she's no longer that young "beauty". AND the
world celebrates her "look" as well and copies it.
The world is absurd. No facts govern it. We live well once we truly accept the world's absurdity. YOU give our life's meaning, and YOU control your world. (see Nietzsche for very closely tied beliefs) --This quiz was made by S. A-Lerer.
I SING the Body electric;
The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul.
Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves;
And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?
And if the body does not do as much as the Soul?
And if the body were not the Soul, what is the Soul?
The love of the Body of man or woman balks account—the body itself balks account;
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.
The expression of the face balks account;
But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face;
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists;
It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees—dress does not hide him;
The strong, sweet, supple quality he has, strikes through the cotton and flannel;
To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more;
You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards,
The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up, and rolls silently to and fro in the heave of the water,
The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats—the horseman in his saddle,
Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,
The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their open dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting,
The female soothing a child—the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard,
The young fellow hoeing corn—the sleigh-driver guiding his six horses through the crowd,
The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sundown, after work,
The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance,
The upper-hold and the under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes;
The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,
The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on the alert,
The natural, perfect, varied attitudes—the bent head, the curv’d neck, and the counting;
Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast with the little child,
Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, and count.
I know a man, a common farmer—the father of five sons;
And in them were the fathers of sons—and in them were the fathers of sons.
This man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person;
The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard, and the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes—the richness and breadth of his manners,
These I used to go and visit him to see—he was wise also;
He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old—his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome;
They and his daughters loved him—all who saw him loved him;
They did not love him by allowance—they loved him with personal love;
He drank water only—the blood show’d like scarlet through the clear-brown skin of his face;
He was a frequent gunner and fisher—he sail’d his boat himself—he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner—he had fowling-pieces, presented to him by men that loved him;
When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang.
You would wish long and long to be with him—you would wish to sit by him in the boat, that you and he might touch each other.
I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment—what is this, then?
I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea.
There is something in staying close to men and women, and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well;
All things please the soul—but these please the soul well.
This is the female form;
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot;
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction!
I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor—all falls aside but myself and it;
Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, the atmosphere and the clouds, and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, are now consumed;
Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it—the response likewise ungovernable;
Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands, all diffused—mine too diffused;
Ebb stung by the flow, and flow stung by the ebb—love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching;
Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious juice;
Bridegroom night of love, working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn;
Undulating into the willing and yielding day,
Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh’d day.
This is the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, the man is born of woman;
This is the bath of birth—this is the merge of small and large, and the outlet again.
Be not ashamed, women—your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest;
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
The female contains all qualities, and tempers them—she is in her place, and moves with perfect balance;
She is all things duly veil’d—she is both passive and active;
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.
As I see my soul reflected in nature;
As I see through a mist, one with inexpressible completeness and beauty,
See the bent head, and arms folded over the breast—the female I see.
The male is not less the soul, nor more—he too is in his place;
He too is all qualities—he is action and power;
The flush of the known universe is in him;
Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and defiance become him well;
The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost, become him well—pride is for him;
The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent to the soul;
Knowledge becomes him—he likes it always—he brings everything to the test of himself;
Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and the sail, he strikes soundings at last only here;
(Where else does he strike soundings, except here?)
The man’s body is sacred, and the woman’s body is sacred;
No matter who it is, it is sacred;
Is it a slave? Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants just landed on the wharf?
Each belongs here or anywhere, just as much as the well-off—just as much as you;
Each has his or her place in the procession.
(All is a procession;
The universe is a procession, with measured and beautiful motion.)
Do you know so much yourself, that you call the slave or the dull-face ignorant?
Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight, and he or she has no right to a sight?
Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffuse float—and the soil is on the surface, and water runs, and vegetation sprouts,
For you only, and not for him and her?
A man’s Body at auction;
I help the auctioneer—the sloven does not half know his business.
Gentlemen, look on this wonder!
Whatever the bids of the bidders, they cannot be high enough for it;
For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years, without one animal or plant;
For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d.
In this head the all-baffling brain;
In it and below it, the makings of heroes.
Examine these limbs, red, black, or white—they are so cunning in tendon and nerve;
They shall be stript, that you may see them.
Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,
Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant back-bone and neck, flesh not flabby, good-sized arms and legs,
And wonders within there yet.
Within there runs blood,
The same old blood!
The same red-running blood!
There swells and jets a heart—there all passions, desires, reachings, aspirations;
Do you think they are not there because they are not express’d in parlors and lecture-rooms?
This is not only one man—this is the father of those who shall be fathers in their turns;
In him the start of populous states and rich republics;
Of him countless immortal lives, with countless embodiments and enjoyments.
How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring through the centuries?
Who might you find you have come from yourself, if you could trace back through the centuries?
A woman’s Body at auction!
She too is not only herself—she is the teeming mother of mothers;
She is the bearer of them that shall grow and be mates to the mothers.
Have you ever loved the Body of a woman?
Have you ever loved the Body of a man?
Your father—where is your father?
Your mother—is she living? have you been much with her? and has she been much with you?
—Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all, in all nations and times, all over the earth?
If any thing is sacred, the human body is sacred,
And the glory and sweet of a man, is the token of manhood untainted;
And in man or woman, a clean, strong, firm-fibred body, is beautiful as the most beautiful face.
Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body? or the fool that corrupted her own live body?
For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves.
O my Body! I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you;
I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the Soul, (and that they are the Soul;)
I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my poems—and that they are poems,
Man’s, woman’s, child’s, youth’s, wife’s, husband’s, mother’s, father’s, young man’s, young woman’s poems;
Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of the ears,
Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eye-brows, and the waking or sleeping of the lids,
Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges,
Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition,
Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat, back of the neck, neck-slue,
Strong shoulders, manly beard, scapula, hind-shoulders, and the ample side-round of the chest.
Upper-arm, arm-pit, elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones,
Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm, knuckles, thumb, fore-finger, finger-balls, finger-joints, finger-nails,
Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side,
Ribs, belly, back-bone, joints of the back-bone,
Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward round, man-balls, man-root,
Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above,
Leg-fibres, knee, knee-pan, upper-leg, under leg,
Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel;
All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my or your body, or of any one’s body, male or female,
The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the bowels sweet and clean,
The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,
Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves, sexuality, maternity,
Womanhood, and all that is a woman—and the man that comes from woman,
The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and risings,
The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloud,
Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking, swimming,
Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening,
The continual changes of the flex of the mouth, and around the eyes,
The skin, the sun-burnt shade, freckles, hair,
The curious sympathy one feels, when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body,
The circling rivers, the breath, and breathing it in and out,
The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips, and thence downward toward the knees,
The thin red jellies within you, or within me—the bones, and the marrow in the bones,
The exquisite realization of health;
O I say, these are not the parts and poems of the Body only, but of the Soul,
O I say now these are the Soul!
I'm constantly amazed at how polarized people can get over movies. Except for such offerings as Ishtar or Showgirls... movie reviews run the gambit between Completely Entertaining to I Wanted To Scratch My Eyes Out.
Does every movie now Have to have some socially relevant message? Can a movie just be fun? I can only remember walking out of one movie. There are several I would never bother watching again but I can usually find SOMETHING entertaining in a film. Am I just too forgiving? too easily entertained? Is that truly a BAD thing??
Have you ever walked out on a movie? Which One/s?
What do you think is the all-time worst movie ever made?
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