This is the Black Orchid and I am wroth at Ye Sly Bitches. I shall tell you what is wrong with mankind: ye are all like three toed sloths living in filth. Ye violate the laws of nature and as Wordsworth says, "The world is too much with us late and soon." First off Ye are all like soft marshmellows sitting on your fat asses at the computer for hours on end. Ye cannot stand a moment of silence and wear those head sets on the busses, listening to music every minute of the day so ye will not hear your own thoughts or the soft green wind blowing through the hissing trees! Pastries are the devil's food and make you soft and slothful. Eat the fruits of the land, bananas, berries, grapes, melons and what have you. There is nothing so sweet and sensuous as a ripe grape from my own orchards, how it rolls on my mouth and pops in sweetness on my tongue. Live as an animal in your body, exercise and feel the blood rush up to your neck as ye run, and the sly wind as it carresses your face. Never eat to the full, always keep a little hunger to show you are alive, Really Alive. Do not glut yourself on food and material possessions. Ye are seeking to fill the emptiness of your own soul. That hollow echoe that afrights Ye so much. Read, fill your soul with the majesty of other minds for ye inherit the mind of the author when Ye read. And Love without fear of not getting it back. It will not kill you to love one who does not love you back. Never consider it. Love is not a bargain market, cash for products like a grocery store.
Take from the earth's bounty no more than what is seemly. Our Lord hates a glutton, and not just of food. What man needs but one house for he can only live in one at a time! This pandemonian to garner possessions is not but an uninformed attempt to fill one's emptiness in the soul. Eat, play, love, but never to the extreme. Do not covet the things of he who is richer than you nor glut yourself on food, as I have said earlier. The animal must be ascendant in you: Run with the tigers of the fields.That empty void is naught but your precious soul: be not afraid and listen to your secret heart. Music, as well as books can enrich your world. I am currently listening to Gregorian chants as they scare and thrill me. Those ancient chants of yore.
Be like the Medieval Dame Largesse and keep your larder full to the brim to feed the hungry and give to the needy. Give the gift you prize the most to the one you love. I once gave the emerald I wore in my belly button to one of my lovers and he now wears it around his neck, a rare and valuable stone. What bliss, incredible, astounding bliss. A ray of pink tinged light. Warmth and the taste of honey on the tongue. Be not a hoarder: Give totally of yourself and be generous with your possessions.
Come alive, Ye Computer Zombies. Feel the cool breeze which musses your hair and smell the scent of honeysuckle hanging in the still air. Behold your lover's nude body, and love it well. Embrace the vast blue cerlean sky and its jumbled piles of crazy clouds.
There is a song I leave you with. "Life could be a dream, Sweetheart, shabop,
CAROL ANN writer of Poems of Thunder (Noir & whimsy) @ BN.com & Amazon.com & publishamerica.com