Modern Romanticism - Page 2 of 33 - The aspect of romance, divided between the heartening and the thoughtful.

Erotica – “The Roth Overlook” – Excerpt – “A Face that Replaces Majesty” – 8/15/2019

August 15, 2019
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Beneath the fire of the sun and in the warmth of their skin, two lovers unite in the holler and jeer of a morning’s session of passion. There is, imagined in this scene, a pair that dances on their own toes above the fruit that releases the nectar that is the sin of lust. One speaks of beauty, the other speaks of despair. Yet, the comfort that surrounds the aura to the dream is the enemy to love. One dream and one blaze cover a pair so embedded in simplicity.

Bastian acts as the man with an entire field below him in its radiance from the overhead sunlight, while she gleams with as much luster as the sun, to give Bastian the radiance that all know in holiness. Bastian is God to an angel covered in her own cotton garments.

He is as merciful as the holiest of saints, though tears into her the punishment that fits the description of any atrocious fiend. His face is shown with the emanations of regret. More than once, she questions why he is weeping, but not once does he offer an answer. He gleams in the aroma of love-making; it is softness to the angel’s defeat. A few drops from his face mingle in with the drops of his body, but his face is soaked in sadness. His temples are soaked in passion. His mind is drowned in sorrow.

In God’s realm, he has become the doer of good to an angel that envelops herself in simplicity. Her shoulders show loveliness through their roundness and their connection to a splendid stem of a neck! Her face is captured by the kisses given to her from the man above, and what a face it is! Bastian and his lips trace the skin of her breast, draining its plumpness. He allows himself to linger on her scent.

The scent of a beast lures; that is the Hunter which Bastian has become. It takes God and a Hunter to create a child in the womb of an angel. He takes in her softness in every inescapable delight. Every one of her tremors results in the creation of an empire devoted to wings and gold.

“I am sinister.”

“You are Bastian.”

A Perspective – “A Man’s Perspective of Womanhood” – 8/15/2019

August 15, 2019
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I am a man who has grown up around women.

No sisters and no siblings, but 4 aunts, a long-time girlfriend, a close grandmother, a mother, no father, and 3 female cousins…

I think I have a bit more understanding of a woman’s Psychology than the average stupid man.

From what I’ve known of them, in contrast to a man, a man will pick apart details, while a woman will see the whole. She will see the entire picture, call it beautiful, while a man will analyze that whole, and discover errors.

This is to say that a woman will listen to honesty without being able to differ a lie from truth. This means, that a woman will hear words, and perceive them in exactness. That is to say that she will expect honesty, especially from a romantic partner, and have no choice but to place her full trust in what she has heard.

In “perceiving the whole”, she will take what has been said, and embrace it. She will not tear the image apart, without the heartbreak. It is because any heartbreak for her, can only come once truth has replaced the lie, and now she sees her own heart split in two jagged fragments.

This means, that a woman will see her own shattered heart, and be forced to see her own flesh, her own face, not for how attractive she once made it, but for its plainness. She will see ugliness, and be forced to be honest with herself, coming to question the worth of love.

How truthful (mind the pun) are such words? I must know.

Poem – “I’ll Begin to Raise Thee” – Romance

August 15, 2019
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Up from deprivation, I’ll begin, to raise thee,
To my contemplation, I have seen, to pull thee,
By my regret, I have not been, to free thee,
From a slumber, from a pain, from a madness
That should only, be known, to me.
Why should thou feel, when I am only, to suffer?
Such confuses me,
Whenever I see thee,
Born with tears, pasted against, thy worn cheeks,
And so many tunes, that come as weeps.

Why much sorrow, when the world stands, seemingly true?
Denial is but a virtue, so that pain, no longer surrounds.
We are, in vain, nested, in pain,
Not by darker moments,
But by willingness, to express it.

Why much tears, enough to flood plains, with their wetness?
I find no meaning, in their existence.
I fail to see, thy complexion,
As anything, but tied to water,
And the great ocean, that surrounds, thy lips.

I have offered kisses, to quell thy mourning,
Of what, such a future, of disaster, may bring down
Upon thy quivering and aching form.

Let us, make us, miserable no longer,
What will pleasure, come as,
As birds, where we fly, with wings broken, like deadened gulls,
That have, met a storm, to bring them down.

Let us weep no longer,
No more, the feeling, of sorrow, of remembrance, to guilt,
We are living, in our dreams, in our oceans
When we, should be, living in arms.

Poem – “Tena, Tena, offer Me your Lips” – Romance/Personal Poem

August 14, 2019
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Find me where wine surrounds,
An airport and its buzzing engines.
Find me, for me to nestle myself in your heart,
Find faces to feel their praise.
I will love until eternity is torn apart,
We will love until paradise is what surrounds,
With violet scents,
And beauty’s dose of awe.

Safety is where I will find your touch,
Your lips is where I will land my own.
At an airport, where landings are general,
And your hair, I will run a hand
Through, like the running waves that guide
A man through the shapes of his own mind.

Love is the feeling to our universe,
Transferred in between time.
I want your lips, like the redness attached
To a petal from a rose;
Or like the blush just above your smile,
That has raised your rosy cheeks.

You’ll be my cure, will you not?
My pain shall fly away from this chest of mine,
As we embrace, and see that universe in eyes.
You will be my cure, and no one else
Shall take your place at my side.
Beautiful woman, holy and true,
I wield your hands like candles,
And take to the world no more disgrace.

Words of Wisdom – “A Woman’s Submission” – 8/14/2019

August 14, 2019
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“There is no greater power than the will to release.

To differ the necessity from the convenience is the direct difference between life and death. It is the difference between the simplicity and the complexity. In life, we dwell over death, over failure. In failure, we have failed, and we have nothing else, for we are dead.

The beauty in submission is to reject all external measures of ‘diverse wealth’, because that introduces death to life. Diversity, that is, is the death. The dwelling; the constant question; and then, the confusion, makes the one without simplicity, enough to draw upon the whereabouts of darkness, into life.

In death, beauty has been buried. Recognition rots, and we soon see a person’s skeleton as any other skeleton, for it was covered in flesh when the person was alive.

We had recognized the eyes, and now as a skeleton, there are no eyes.

We had recognized the lips, and now as a skeleton, there are no lips.

Submission comes naturally to a woman, when she will reject the multiple complexities of a world that offers her much.

To a man’s eyes, the only thing he desires for a woman is to see her dressed in simplicity. As if she were in the bedroom, bared in flesh, and not overdrawn in garments so much to clothe her naked form.

And there is nothing worse in a world than to tease truth.

To be half-clothed, turns truth towards uncertainty.

To be half-clothed, makes honesty only half-way released. It makes the orgasm only half-way expended, and the love only half-way given. One should not ‘slightly agree’ or ‘neither agree nor disagree’ as it would ask for in a survey, but only either say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. That is the honesty.

Honesty is never partially given, and should be known for its answer in the immediate moment.

For a deceived world, people will continually ‘work to discover their truth’.

They will unearth that ‘buried beauty’ and disturb graves.

Metaphorically speaking, they will do this.

They will unearth history, rather than leaving the past to rot. And why are the people who enjoy ‘discovering their truth’ more prone to committing suicide? It’s for the reason of what depression does to the human. Depression is, as a definition, a focus on the past.

Honesty is immediate and offered by Nature upon birth.

And soon, one will carry that truth until they die.

For submission, honesty and simplicity are very much important aspects to what ‘weakness’ stands for; and that is, to be vulnerable when one should never hold a statement back.

One is always vulnerable when conveying truth.

In tears, or in rage, that is when a person releases.”

Poem – “Cling upon Me” – Romance

August 12, 2019
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Cling upon me,
For your immediate comfort.
You have wept with a shivering form,
And eyes that obey all contention.
A face that needs no bliss, as mine
Or your own, for the coming deprivation.

Disease me, your wounds of many fields.
Kiss me, O woman of much gathered,
Suffer not, when the world comes tumbling
Upon our bosoms, so wide and heavy.
We are but deformed infants,
Birthed without care.

When we scream, who will hear us?
When we strike, who will we hit?
When we bleed, who catches such drops?
When we feel, who feels us?

We are so much the crime, the fear for a world,
That turns inside out, to see itself.
We are the parasites for them,
As we care for them.

Oh, beauty.
You have oceans too deep for this world,
And eyes that would strangle its own veins.
Deny me all, so that I may see me maddened,
Make me quiver as you do,
So that I may break your fall.

Words of Wisdom – “Worth is a Judgement” – 8/12/2019

August 12, 2019
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“Has the bottle of wine knowledge of its worth without the connoisseur to name it? Has the book that has been translated extensively knowledge of its own worth, or even of the worth of knowledge within it, without another to name it? No.

Those who say that the one can only define themselves, are wrong.

This is the mindset of a someone who believes them to be the last person remaining on earth. That they have defeated all opponents, are safe because no one dares to challenge them, and the status they place upon themselves is ‘free to roam’.

They are people who have awoken to find themselves standing as the ruler to every forest and every lake. That is, they are the epitome to every fragment of arrogance a human has ever displayed, either spoken by word, or revealed by gesture of hand.

Where is the contentment in knowing that one’s own worth is only judged by the self? These are people who believe themselves incapable of being controlled or dominated. It opens up vulnerability, and even of themselves, they are unable to contain their own weaknesses.

That is, again, a belief in the comfort of loneliness. Sheltered by either a corner, or by complete darkness, that is the soul of such a person.

They are also people to believe that a friend is the only sort of person to ever show honesty. This is an untrue assumption.

One’s enemy will show more truth than ever a friend will speak of it. That is because one always avoids their vulnerabilities. That is to say that such people always lie to themselves. In every battle a human faces, or every trial, or every discipline, there is always discovery. That is to say that the greatest of discovery always comes from knowing one’s enemies.

And within a world with a mindset that tells the individual to only trust friendship, and to be the only one to define themselves, makes the individual without discovery. They are stagnant. And when something is stagnant for too long, it begins to decline.

To imagine the object when it rises, it must stay still for a moment, before it descends.

Such truth from an enemy is always greater than ever a friend will show. How is this? It is because a friend is already known. An enemy is unknown, and most certainly because he’s always avoided.

And most of all, a friend will never be fully honest with their own friend, will be fearful of speaking directly about another’s flaws, for fear of becoming their enemy.

From an enemy, worth is judged.

From a friend, worth is stagnant, and age never carries along the maturity one is supposed to manifest of themselves, through wisdom.”

Words of Wisdom – “The Artist’s Vision of Reality” – 8/12/2019

August 12, 2019
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“The artist has a singular vision of reality. Such a vision provokes reality to move. Although, the artist has a liking to pick up reality to perhaps drag it. As well, the artist has a liking to make reality writhe in pain, or echo some cry of thrill. Nothing prevents the artist from showing movement.

And for what purpose does this movement conceive its own definition? That definition is the purpose of evil. Art is not evil. It is merely an interpretation of life. Of all what stays inside life, it is the birth of potential. Had Hitler’s mother known of what evil she’d birth? Had Caesar’s mother known of what power she held in her womb?

Art does not convey love. It conveys truth. It conveys the reality made into truth. For reality is nothing more than a stagnant image, and perhaps the blank canvas, before the artist makes life from it. It is the empty womb, the darkened hallway, before there is a child nestled within, or torches lit upon the walls.

Love is a stagnation. Death is a stagnation. And the artist does not convey these things, for these things do not display movement. We are contented in these two things. We want for no more, when either in love or dead, or close to death. For love, we willingly submit. For death, we are forced to submit. And for both, life has no hold upon us.

What is life? It has been said to hold the definition of ‘worth’ or ‘value’ and such things are only ever measured through age. The ‘existence of time’ becomes an existence, when we are able to see life for its truth.

When we speak of evil, we speak of that life, and its discontinuance. We speak of the constant discontent. For a human can only ever be contented when willingly content, or when in love, or when forced to be content, or when near death.

Truth is a middling. Love is a higher. Death is a lower.

We, as humans, are always middling, no matter our ambitions.

It is because when love interferes with the dictator, he is no longer a dictator. He soon renounces his ambitions, and settles in with a wife, while people still pound on his door to murder him.”

Words of Wisdom – “To Differ the Quality from the Quantity” – 8/11/2019

August 11, 2019
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“As anyone who holds even the slightest understanding of Psychology, the human brain is incapable of holding two primary focuses. Rather, there is always a primary and a secondary focus. Should quality be the primary focus, then quantity will become the secondary focus. Should quantity be the primary focus, then quality will become the secondary focus. This is to say that should the artist never seek fame, then they will wield their brush like a conductor wields a baton to command the orchestra. This is to also say that should the artist seek fame, then the artist will never tire of taking multiple dives into association and labeling, all-the-while believing repetition to better suit the work he’s creating. Such a former scenario of quality creates that which is built to last. Such a latter scenario of quantity creates that which crumbles when a species comes to deny the existence of time.”

Words of Wisdom – “A Man’s Guilt” – Pt. 3 – 8/10/2019

August 10, 2019
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“There is no logical explanation on how a woman desires the same level of achievement gained by a man. Does she desire the same feeling of guilt? Does she perhaps yearn to become a rapist?

It is not ‘opportunity for the sake of opportunity’ offered to a man, strictly by a rule written in some book. Once more, his desire to achieve comes through compensation. His own personal compensation, that is, and such money that he gains holds the same definition of ‘compensation’. A woman, if not able to comprehend, then at least see a man’s torment in such guilt that has afflicted him since birth.

Once more, a man doesn’t receive opportunity through a right. He receives opportunity through relief. He is punished by guilt, and it is no secret that his brutality has turned him into a war or power hungry fool, and his innate ambition has brought on the territorial and land-marking crime organizations.

We should say also that his ‘love of gain’ becomes immediately simplified upon receiving the love from a woman. For he creates cycles within beginnings, through an injected seed into a womb. And why had it been a custom for him to want a son, over a daughter? Once more, it was not a rule, but an instinct of a man to continue this cycle, of this cycle of pride and achievement, and then, forgiveness.

Continuation, that is, and life must continue, and thus, comes the continuation and non-stop creationism, among numerous achievements. He is achieving for his own relief, to have an orgasm, perhaps, and continue the barbarism, and the brutality.

Forgiveness is displayed through the glassy eyes of a woman.

He was not willing to see himself.

Of all he has gained, now the guilt has turned into a oneness. A woman, and now his guilt has been erased. She offers him comfort, not further distress. She offers him silence, not further loudness from gunfire.

Keep the man locked up, and his thoughts are his only company.

Keep him alone, in the dark, and the monster sees all his wounds from those who’ve repeatedly tried to slay him.”