History in flames
The spire was the first to go,
buckling like a horrid light show.
History dissolving into ash
Before our very eyes
Thanks to media the whole world knows
Within a few minutes of disaster.
A cultural icon fading like a ghost
Notre Dame in trouble when
Folks need it the most.
Holy Week. The week before Easter.
For me I’d say my Easter was cursed
For the cathedral is burning down.
Forget London Bridge.
The cultural icon of France is falling down,
My fair lady.
Two times as many people visit Notre Dame than the Eiffel Tower.
This place of sanctuary, it’s beauty and glory
Is burning down
Into an ashy mess.
History is in flames before our eyes,
So why do I feel as though
We’ve seen this before?
"You know, you are so damn selfish. You suck the air right out of the room and think nothing of it. Why can't you give some of us a chance. Make some room for us. No you can't, can you. You have to come over here looking so inviting. Seductively titillating everyone of them, not giving the slightest consideration to any of us. Don't give me your "I'm innocent" line again. I heard that last year, the year before and as far back as memory serves. You just come around year after year and steal the show right from under us. All of us we are sick of it! Sick and tired of the one up manship. All of them around us, they don't know the half of it. You continue to fool them with those breasts of yours hanging out. Cover up for Christ's sake, but I must say they do look rather plump and juicy, ripe for the taking. What am I doing! Put a sock in it! You almost had me too with those things hanging out, damn you. I'm not going to fall for it. How could you be so self-serving." Said the broccoli to the turkey.
Dear Followers of Mine,
Hi there! It’s me, justaperson, a teenage writer that you decided to follow whenever.
Thank you for being so supportive!
I started to write more frequently once I found this website. Between the challenges and random thoughts that came to me, I slowly started to spread my wings on here.
Once again, thank you all for being so supportive! Without all of you, I don't think I would still be on Prose today.
Thank you for letting me vent when needed, and helping me see the views of others.
Thank you for being so chill about others' opinions (though I do see some lovely arguments between the best of us).
Thank you all for letting me be me, and accepting me for me, something I don't always do.
Thank you for welcoming me when I started and helping me grow.
Thank you for being such kind and caring folks, and supporting not just me, but others on this amazing website.
Thank you for learning and growing right alongside me.
Thank you for reaching out, introducing yourself to me.
Thank you for being you.
I love you all and wish you the best of luck in anything you try to accomplish!
and most importantly,
What Is Love
Every day, someone writes about love, talks about love, angry about love, even frightened of love. Love is a concept of entwining emotions we can neither physically see, hear, taste, touch, or smell, but it sure does know how to heighten a person’s senses and awareness when with someone they are attracted to.
When I was thinking about this, I remembered something I wrote a long time back. I dug around my stacks of papers and finally unearthed it.
I am no road scholar when it comes to love but over the years I have come to understand what you will read are only a few of the many principles love holds.
Consider this what you will. Conception. Perception. Perspective.
What Is Love
Defining love, and its concept isn’t as easy as it sounds. Love is, has, and always will be the one word in the English language (or any language), that is defined by adjectives and adverbs laid onto paper, and words which roll off the tongue.
For countless centuries, “Love” has been a prime force of every novel written, be it romance, gothic, westerns, horror, drama, mystery, adventure, and comedy. Love has told the story of some of the greatest love relationships throughout history. From Adam and Eve to Jesus Christ. Cleopatra and Antony, to Romeo and Juliet.
But, in using words to describe love with such words as: beautiful, dear, darling, sweetheart, and of course, I love you. It isn’t the telling that defines love, rather more the showing; the expression of that love which becomes the main focus or central ingredient.
You can say, “I love you,” twenty-four hours a day, and it wouldn’t mean a thing if you cannot express yourself—and the ways are many.
A simple hug or smile, holding a hand, giving a card for no other reason than you care (and it shows what he/she means to you in doing so), sending/giving flowers, planning a getaway for a few days, sharing responsibilities, such as cleaning or painting a room or working on all that “stuff” in the attic. For men: cook for her for a change of pace, and don’t forget to put the toilet-seat down (and for as funny as that may seem, it isn’t funny to her), and put the cap back on the toothpaste when finished. In the long run, all it is doing is showing simple respect when due, in the form of love.
Being able to see your partner’s abilities and talents as a person is vital as it is important. Notice the little, as well as the bigger things during the course of the day. Ignorance may be bliss but being ignorant means too much is being missed. Again, respect what is done, how it was done, is another sign of love. It shows how much you value your partner, even when away from him/her.
Another way and this is important; is communication. Listen to what is being said, as well as what is not being said. Listen to problems or ideas. By hearing, listening, and not pretending; take a real interest in thoughts expressed, allows you to be even closer.
Yet, the reverse holds true as well. You can communicate without words. There is that certain look in the eye, or that curving smile. The way hands are held and fingers interlock. The playing around to have each other laugh, to stroking a cheek, to a simple short kiss. All of these things are a form of love … better known as understanding.
When deeply troubled by sadness, scared, confused, your partner or you, should be there to share the burden and help ease the pain and sadness, and perhaps even fear. There will always be times when the weight of any pain will be too heavy for one person to carry alone. That weight should be, has to be, carried by two people. This is love. This is also known as being a friend when a friend is needed most.
Physically, making love is perhaps one of the least forms to express love. No two people can make love around the clock the rest of their lives and survive on that love. Of course making love is the closest two people can be to express love, but it’s really a small slice of the pie in the relationship when you look at love on a larger scale.
And yet, making love is an internal act of expression. The art or act of love, must or should be pleasurable. That feeling where making love should feel never-ending (though it will and does) and go beyond forever. Both you and your partner should shudder with the most intense, satisfied feeling ever experienced. Complete fulfillment.
With fulfillment as with other things considered, we have to come back to the important issues: laughter, and communication. Laughter, because lovemaking should be fun as well as passionate (and not like a job you dread). Communication is a given, but when the conversation becomes one-sided, that is where love begins to fade as does the sun to darkness, or the moon to morning light. As with everything mentioned, tenderness needs, privately demands to be felt. Holding, touching one another as if to say, “I care deeply and will never let go.”
In a sense, love is like a general giving orders to his men. Each man plays an important part in what has to be done, otherwise, there is only failure. So goes the way of love.
Emotion, understanding, respect, trust, honor, truth, passion, communication, humor, thoughts, and friendship are a direct path leading to love.
Three aspects round this out. The heart holding all the feelings of expression, and the mind for realizing what is truly wanted. As long as you keep your mind straight and your heart true, there will always be love.
Were you to go blind, you can still see the person you love because you have your mind. If you could no longer speak, you can still feel the love because of the emotions you carry in your heart.
The third aspect to consider, is sacrifice.
If, or when you do fall out of love, don’t stand in the way of that person’s happiness. To do so, would put your own future happiness out of sight. Bitterness and hate chews away at a human soul and clouds thoughts. Hate is like a cancer. So is fear. They too can eat away at the very person you are until both physically and emotionally you destroy yourself. With love, comes pain, but the pain becomes a lesson learned.
But cast away hate, fear and pain. In or out of love, because of all that was shared, you should remain a friend when needed most.
This is the part that is hard to understand. Betrayal. Even when you have been cheated and lied to, once the love is over, if nothing else, erase the hate. The pain will take time to heal the inner you. But remove the hate, and possibly, over time, you could be simply a friend once more. Hard for many to do, but it is doable.
Call it human nature, but you do have feelings like everyone else. You breathe, bleed red, laugh and cry like anyone else. You need to be loved every bit as much as the next person.
If it is so wrong to feel this way and you already do, then I say, don’t change. If you have never felt this way, perhaps your need for a change starts now. Love is also accepting change.
Know what is important. The choice is yours alone to make.
Love is about making choices.
(The first two lines of the poem in the picture, you cannot see)
I am not always right
I am not always here
A book as it ends.
Just as you have started something you knew deep down your very conscious mind that it is bound to end. As you read the very first page of a book you are too eager to finish it, and as you have reached the very end page, you look back in the most memorable and highlighted parts. And thats what I feel, as I nearly lose my heavy breath, and as my heart pounds slowly.
A Sexual Encounter Gone Wrong
This is true. A tale that has stayed in the back of my mind since March of 1971.
I was living in Portland, Oregon at the time, working at a restaurant. Money was good, so were the hours. But the nightlife in one sense was even better.
And it was on one such night, Saturday, I ran into Lisse, from Alaska. Short, attractive, petite and she was up for fun. Truth be told, she took more of a lead to our sexual escapade than I did. Within an hour of meeting, I was not just in her apartment, but her bedroom.
We started as most couples would, heavy petting, touching, fondling, kissing, you get the idea. Within twenty minutes we were completely naked and I, first, explored her body in every way a man can with my hands and lips (trying to keep this as clean as I can).
She orgasmed several times before she said it was my turn. Who am I too argue. As I did with her, she started from my forehead to my ankles and came back but stopped just below my stomach and began to perform in an extrodinary way. She was raising my temperature to a limit I didn't think possible.
But then, the possible became impossible!
What was heaven and the universe suddenly became the dark side of hell's pain! While performing oral sex, she suddenly had a seizure!
To make this short, I was able to dislodge her from "parts not working" and found a phone in her place, dialed the operator, telling her what happened to her (not me), while the whole time I'm trying to make sure she didn't swallow her tongue. I even dumped her purse to see if she had any medication in there.
I guess it was ten minutes before paramedics showed up and did their thing. When she was being taken to the hospital, one of the paramedics said to me, "You seem to need assistance yourself." I must have had a confused look on my face but she pointed and I looked down. In the rush to help LIsse, I forgot I was naked. I even forgot about what she did to me, of which she had broken the skin, and blood covered part of my thighs.
Anyway, she asked me to sit down, she took some gauze and some type of ointment, cleaned me up, and then put a butterfly suture on it.
She stood up, smiled and then handed me a card. On the back was her phone number and the words; not bad. Call me sometime.
Truth be told ... I never did.