The Traveler

2011-11-28T20:25:00.001-08:00

I have folded over and into a new realm of intimacy.
This constellation has changed color -
This glitz of sex has kissed every star -
and my time, back to normal.

How could I be viewing this all so differently?
This womb of warmth has been stolen -
This fox_like sensation, rearranged/rewritten/redone/reassessed-
and my universe, a sham.

A repetition.

-Annie Rosse

The Human Stain

2011-06-23T21:19:00.000-07:00

INSPIRATION:

"The human stain . . . The stain that is there before its mark . . . The stain that precedes disobedience, that encompasses disobedience and perplexes all explanation and understanding. It's why all the cleansing is a joke. A barbaric joke at that. The fantasy of purity is appalling. It's insane. What is the quest to purify, if not more impurity? . . . The inevitably stained creatures that we are. Reconciled to the horrible, elemental imperfection . . . "

-Phillip Roth
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Reality -all of my fire and vitality hardened.

“I am the most tangible of all mysteries -a fulfilling cloud alleviating every desire and hungry eye. But of course, there is always that one inescapable being –Reality: his palms hurry upward and grind against the slope of my neck to warn me of consequence. That is when I can no longer feel my longings --When life has knocked me over and into an empty sea -- When I can no longer see the constellations.”

Transgression –all of my insubordinate reactions and bruises.

“I am believed sin, worn brightly by violent standards –a woman defiant of authority and disobedience. Somehow, I have given myself to the outer region of this world. The outer region of past and heartache no one can make disappear. And this is where I’ve made gold...out of my transgressions: secretive smiles admitting false poise and grace, tired glances comparing the sexual to the suppressed and finally, the admittance of complete hopelessness. That is when I can no longer see the gold from the copper.”

Blood –all of me borrowed by the sun and soil.

“I am the oil splitting amongst the seams of any passionate being –a simple blessing aiding those almost willing defeat. I’ve dismantled myself again for you –and you –and you and…no more. This average being has finally dispersed her soul, her mouth, back into the soil! The sun, saddened but pleased has graciously given to me a lover to savor. He lies with me in this pool of fertilized blood; maybe like an angel shot down by an arrow? The both of us soaking and basking beneath the soil and tulips. What could it be, but a fever pitched reference to happiness?”

Mountains -the place where my heaven and earth meet.
"I am myself. This body and temple I've given arm for. Nothing else and nothing more."

-AnnieRosse

They Named Me Intimacy

The Traveler

The Human Stain