Lace and Honey

Their eyes met in the realm of possibility. Their lives intersecting along that scape, where interests often collide.

Sharing a curiosity, engaging in a little myth making. Together, they forge nothing into machinations constructed to arouse the imagination.

Her beauty is evident, he also caught a glimpse of her strength. Her words soft and sweet, to him like lace and honey, they denote determination and unwavering conviction.

He delights equally in her flirtation and her practical sensibilities. He cherishes the honesty in their passion and the wisdom in her counsel.

The Big Bundle

Now, seeing as how I’m as fresh as a new-born babe to writer aspiration, I’ve decided to try broad spectrum experimentation. I am placing it here, wanting to keep you all apprised of any gathered information. With hopes that it may help some of you along your way, as well. In explanation, I have decided to throw my work out to all so-called hybrid publishers. Having only submitted my work to the one, I want to get a feel for a few others, obtain some insight. I’ve got 25 Hybrids that I’m using my work to test. I will post any relevant information I gather. Anyone with questions about the one Hybrid publisher I’ve been considering may e-mail me at jwjoyjoy@gmail.com 🙂 Feel Free

Tear for two

Her words are carved deep into the signposts of this journey. She speaks with a wisdom, a knowledge of life, it should require lifetimes to amass.

She captivates me. Delighting me with her stunning tales of torment. Allowing me to know her sorrow. To caress her pain. I had thought once, they were a cry for help. I have come to discern, to appreciate fully, that she simply reflects my own despair.

As words spoken into a deep and wide canyon, her utterances, are as an echo reverberating back to me. Delivered by her voice calm and sweet her tear stained narrative seduces my soul.

She makes me laugh as often as we share a tear. Though it is the misery which has bound we two together. To the affliction of adoration we are tethered.

Reminding me of the heavy cost exacted in anguish born of having danced too long with heartache.

Justification

“Darlin…”, the devil said, with a drawl so pronounced, you could smell mama’s chicken and okra on the stove, “…if we are not permitted on occasion, to bathe in the pools of self pity, lathering ourselves with the soothing essence of misery, while washing our hair in the effervescent pearls of despair, then what pray tell are we doing here…”

Simply

Sometimes a voice speaks what you need to hear

Other times, your hearts biggest fear

Don’t let that hold you down

Your life is an old playground

It should be colorfilled just like the clothes worn by a clown

Don’t be discouraged wearing a frown

You’ll feel all the renown

Never forgetting your home town

If I was able I’d fix it all

Make our feelings fall out of thrall

Give us a chance to breath and see

Hearts filled with simple glee

Wash away all negativity

For you, not even me

Where light is all that will shine

Everyone you’ve ever loved can still be fine

All the things you wish you knew

Could no longer make a center blue

Help one another see inside

Even there, no place to hide

Sometimes if left long enough wounds begin to rot

Sometimes it’s best to be the only one you’ve got

People don’t need others, it is only a dream we allow ourselves to believe

The things felt aren’t for others to conceive

Understand, or recieve

Sometimes there is no reprieve

All that’s left is to grieve

The Plunge

The plunge into madness complete, the visions suspect at best. One moment, the day is clear, white puffy clouds filling a sky, so blue and bright, it burns the fingertips of the soul. In just an instant, the same world plummets into darkness, a void in which nothingness reigns supreme, from a throne forged from tear stained, black ice.

Reason has abandoned all hope. Logic and calm abandoned ship, just after the maiden voyage. Leaving confusion, fear, and anxious bubbles, the size of blood soaked cannon balls.

In the throws of defeat, delusions most grand, offer a fleeting sense of immortality, an eternal promise, like the soft, supple, swell of a young woman’s bosom.