Modern Romanticism

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

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

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.

Words of Wisdom – “The Result of Power” – 8/9/2019

August 9, 2019

“The flow of humanity takes itself wherever power and dominance leads it. Why call power a wrong? It should be named an inevitability. To say it must be erased, altogether, is to accept denial as one’s own power. To keep a population in denial, makes the population powerless. To accept personal irresponsibility as a good token, makes one as well, powerless. Responsibility is the tool of the leader. Although, his hands can only extend so far, and for such power, he needs his limits. What is the result of power? It is definitely not stagnation. In terms of ‘development’, power does not simply stand still. It moves and guides a population wherever a leader points his finger. It throws soldiers into battles and sends a mother’s or wife’s tears to the soil of a grave. These are all inevitable. And what is the use of power? As power moves, it also grows. As power does not stand still, it directs and most of all, it is used against, to divide and to conquer. For once more, this is all inevitable and very human.”

Words of Wisdom – “The Craved Apology” – 7/30/2019

July 30, 2019

“There is nothing so despicable as being the one who craves the apology enough to display sexual arousal from hearing one. An apology is the comfort of dishonesty in its direct definition. For why else does one who shouts become shocked at their own words, enough to state that they ‘didn’t mean’ what was said? It is because even the speakers of truth are shocked by what they’ve said, which was the truth, which was what they had meant to say. Denial falters the saying of truth, and one will always deny what will make them vulnerable. People deny their own weaknesses. People believe themselves indestructible, to infinitely gain success, though such a mindset displays the greatest weakness: the denial that there is one. People are pathetic in this regard, and so an apology merely becomes the excuse that reverts what was said back to a man’s heart, after he’s silenced a woman from his own honesty. For honesty cannot at all be kind, without it being disguised, and this is factual. Without honesty as the solid color, and never the collection of colors, honesty becomes only a fragment of its wholeness, and this, as well, is factual.”

Words of Wisdom – “Distinguish Love from Lust – Pt. 2” – 7/28/2019

July 28, 2019

“How else does one distinguish love from lust, other than what the North represents, in contrast to the South? Antarctica, or the South Pole, is larger than the North Pole. This creates the term ‘opportunity’ among places that are larger to occupy. The North Pole, refers to a woman’s heart. The South Pole, refers to a woman’s loins. And we should remove from what has been written, that the most cowardly of men, will ‘follow the current down’ to ‘what they truly want’, over ‘fighting against the current’ to ‘see what will truly challenge them’. The heart would challenge a man. To dominate, to conquer, requires physical force, when we refer to the South; and to the North, such dominance, such a conquest, would require great perseverance, and the will to battle unknowns, and never what the man has longed for since but a little adolescent. It would, most of all, require the heart from a man. For a woman wears a heart on her sleeve, and a man buries his heart beneath hardness.”

Words of Wisdom – “Distinguish Love from Lust – Pt. 1” – 7/28/2019

July 28, 2019

“How does one distinguish love from lust, other than the use that is placed upon the soul? The loved human, versus the used human, or the lusted human. In an age of Mass Production, there we see the ice caps melting, due to what the ‘South’ represents of a woman. Of a woman, being land, being Earth, her ‘South’ is her loins. Should that be heated, upon the time when a man annexes that territory, and tears a ‘pole’ through it, placing his name and his mark upon her ground, then all of Antarctica melts. This is lust. Mass Production has only aided this factor of usage, by seeing the ‘usable tools’, such as women among the workforce, and you create ‘territory upon territory’, or rather, the skyscraper. You create floor upon floor, and surface upon surface, to walk and to occupy. Away from this, you’ll find love to be the solitary emotion, kept to modesty and to the protection that would isolate one from the world, in the way where one knows one and one create a one; for it won’t be the skyscraper, where one and one create a two, plus an extra, plus an extra. For that would be the same as favoritism.”

Poem – “Honey is Strange” – Erotica

July 14, 2019

Two flowers did bloom,
Upwards, they did bloom.
And created a nest!
Indeed, created a nest.
A nest of strands, velvet and black;
And those two flowers,
They’re two legs, made for plucking,
As honey drains between them.

Feeble woman of great talent,
Make this bed under the moon,
Or under the sun,
For it does not matter.
I see thee, with a face so smooth and watchful,
Engrossing all there is to see,
Of you, in a mirror of hardest glass,
Though, of two legs, there is nothing better.

There is, of two legs, the aroma of a field,
The meadows of Heaven, where both of us
Walk among them, breathing the Heavenly
Scents of the strands,
You breathe it, and I breathe it.
I face it, and lay my head against it.

Lay down thy blessed body,
Upon the quilted garb,
When you’ve undressed yourself.
Show thyself to the world,
Your idleness is a thirst forthcoming,
Unto the thickened winds.

Beauty makes us both tattered,
As tears rain to drain,
And honey is so strange.
Under the shadow of virginity,
Blessed honey, with age never a factor,
For its hued resplendence.

I take thee into a cradle of birch,
Form thee a blanket made from those strands,
And cover a world with them, too,
I fall with your world, as elegantly as you do,
Love and lust is here for comfort,
Scents as one, timely and done.

Poem – The Conquered Woman – “The Sweet Kiss upon the North” – Part I – 7/12/2019

July 12, 2019

We were made to adore,
The liveliness of life,
The sweetness of a kiss,
Upon the North, above your head, on the lids
To your fabulous eyes;

It has divided my territory.

I had once conquered all,
I believed I was once God,
The wielder of life.
Simplicity is only made through smallness,
And the sameness of what I recognize.
When I kiss thee, all of Heaven falls.

Afore the South, where strands become hazed,
Where strands are there like threads of silk,
Of damask, of embroidered velvet.
I fall upwards to see Heaven, to see a true God.
One of whom, I may willingly submit,
I bend my knee, to see thee. I have seen God.

The God between thy legs,
No, the God upon thy eyes, upon thy lips,
Their sweetness beckons a kiss,
To land, to smother, to make me think
On my own time, when to consider,
Who I am, as a man, with fault.

Poem – “I Celebrate Our Downfall” – Romance/Erotic

June 28, 2019

With so much torment and scrutiny
Upon the faces of those who last,
We are two apart,
Whose love shall fever the past.

A heat, and a self; a face, and a devil,
A love, and unkindness, once made as one.
We are beautiful when in each’s arms,
But Nihil, when torn apart.

We have smelled death,
Made death enjoy our scent,
And felt the few look upon us,
With the purest envy.

Our downfall, not our destruction,
Though, I’ve raised myself as triumphant,
And called followers from wherever,
You’ll call me down, and pull me down.

You’ll leak Heaven from between your legs,
And the light of God from your dual breasts.
The fragrant ivory skin,
Love has been made, at the sight, of a body.

A serpent once kissed a sandy shore,
And saw with two slits for eyes,
One single slit, and a virgin eye.
It tasted its sweetness with fervor;
It pierced the virgin with its limp form;
And drowned in the purity.

I look upon thee,
And see no more to see.

Poem – “My Love, Let Me Breathe” – Romance

June 17, 2019

Wherefore do we speak, when in an embrace,
From words that ripple through our forms?
Entwined, we dance between velvet stars,
Entangled, we have mourned in past memories.
I am your child, and I am puny.
You are my beloved, and I am in you.

Sheets surround us,
A rope is at our feet.
A love has groped us,
A love that set us free.

Are we in love, in this heat?
In this Hell, are we in love?
But, you are as beautiful as every dreaming night,
When in the haze of rising love.
A puddle now forms a color upon these sheets,
Something has leaked.

Romance, and petulance, made a form.
A love, we have grown, up to see a moon.
You have a body that would baffle,
The highest angels,
And all the gods would marvel at thy radiant face,
For it is better than the purest silk, or softest gold.

A breast that moves, like two ships upon water,
They roar a lapping on the heavy waves.
I am in love.
Yes! I am in love,
With a woman who is she,
The many gestures that I have freed.

Though, are you in love?
Have you found love in our heat?
I have struck a heart,
But have I played even a single note?