Woman Archives - Modern Romanticism

Words of Wisdom – “Acceptance, is the Mark of Love, not Respect” – Philosophy on Love – 10/17/2019

October 17, 2019
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“In a competitive society, we demand respect for being used. In a loving society, we demand to be loved, because a human is meant to be embraced, not throttled at the throat with a collar. To believe that ‘respect’ aligns itself with ‘acceptance’, or that ‘acceptance’ aligns itself with ‘respect’ is to be the fighter who continually fights, without any of the rest involved in love.
We are not accepted, when we are respected, nor are we respected, when we are accepted. Only love can be the emotion meant for acceptance, because it is just that emotion that stops the fighter from fighting, and lays the fighter down to a bed for sleep.
Only in a world where respect is most aligned with competition, is ever a fighter someone who is that obstinate, enough to be selfish enough to never understand love, to never understand what it means to stop. A never-ending battle, never-ending progress? We barely even know where we are heading.
The anatomy of science is blind discovery. It is the discovery granted through mistakes, found between the threads in the unknown, between black threads found in space, where we may put a light to see something clear. And, does what we see horrify us? Do we even care?
Love is an emotion we comprehend for its light, and it comes in an instant. It is a light that we should already know exists. And yet, respect never exists unless one is proven for their utility, enough to be respected. Like all light, it is an instantaneous flash, resonating itself as a star shooting among the many. And, what else? It is identical to the human life, continually struggling. Though, the human life never realizes until it has died, that such a life was only ever a brief spark. One shouts the syllables, one shouts the insolence, to find that their words that demand acceptance by way of respect, are actually demanding acceptance by way of love.
It is this way, unless such a person is both obstinate and arrogant enough to believe that their ‘acceptance’ in respect, will lift them to a higher standard, enough for pride to seep into their minds, and be hailed as a god.
A leader is respected, while the herd is loved.”

Erotic Poetry – “The Laced Disgrace” – Romance – 10/16/2019

October 16, 2019
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Sickness is a place in each other’s mouth,
And alike it all, you’ve shown a trace of a future,
Unclean upon the crawling filth,
Upon the knees of some horrid Monarch.
He’d shown no kindness,
It was as the books had wrote,
He believed in worships too unclear to see,
And made things simple in driest notes.
Whoredom is the world with entertainment
Combined with the illness
Of consumption.
I am in love with my Hell,
My place made in paradise,
My utopia of a mind,
Formed as great disgust to my kind.
I splurge as much as I urge
Others to eat from my plate.
I play a game of marvelous Christianity,
Upon the disuse of a man called ‘agony’.
There is desertion next to me,
And her voice is the blizzard upon the desert,
The coldness upon the dryness,
The death upon the infertile,
And her tears come down as meteors,
Though, fire would not create the lust
Needed for a rain of seeds,
To sprout green from the white, miserable sands.

A Series – On Christianity – “The Pain of Man” – Pt. 1 – “Christ’s Drawn Blood” – Material

October 16, 2019
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“Men are each wound on Christ’s form, and each droplet is the renewing of any heart having bled enough to either love or commit a murder; in both forgiveness and committed atrocity, that is what Christ reveals. The pain it requires to love and the resentment it requires to slay.”

Woman is a creature of either care or negligence, where her guilt is expected for its invisibility. All in what she’s neglected, is what deception will take for advantage. All in what she has not done, will be made into guilt for business to utilize in its chaos. Confusion is to Woman, by way of lacking assurance, and her manifested chaos is in the undoing of something. It is her negligence that the businessman will soak himself in, because the businessman makes his home in negligence. In the undoing, in all things unmoving of a world, the businessman makes his home, takes his partnership among the nothingness, and begins to create.

“Make use” of those who do not move, as a man of business will say, and a woman will find greater sweetness in the gain of power than ever she craved upon a time in a home. Woman has arms, has hands, has been depicted as the mythological creatures with claws. As witches with claws, or as sirens with talons. The bird is the matriarch.

She swoops upwards, pulls down the man who climbs too high, only out of compassion. Up the ladder, he crawls. Though, Woman has wings, made for her to fly upwards and drag Man down. To where? To a bed, to her flesh, and to the arms, the wings, that begin to cradle away his pain.

Man wishes to be close to the sun. And, it is his ascension that brings most pain. Man’s curiosity is the next one on line for leadership. Competition, that is; but, to what sun in the universe is Man attracted to? Man is attracted to two sources of light, and he becomes confused when attracted to no light. Both are painful, though the sun will scorn, while Woman will bathe him in the light that sears away darkness.

There is much darkness between Earth and the sun, and Man wades through it, with murk between his toes.

Man has guilt of doing. His doing is forgiven by Christ’s wounds, by the Virgin Mother who never dropped an ounce of blood to birth that pain. Virginity is, therefore, in the place of the Virgin Mother, who has connection to undoing. An “undoing” that would mark the Virgin Mother as the woman who would birth the greatest display of pain for the world, that is not a woman giving birth. In all doing, there is pain; and, in all undoing, there is the relief of pain. The latter would be the mother who succumbs to her guilt of negligence, and begins to care.

Words of Wisdom – “Between Reality and Love” – Philosophy on Love – 10/16/2019

October 16, 2019
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“In reality, we walk upon Earth. As well, we walk upon others. Obsessed with reality, we unknowingly walk upon others, through, as well, our obsession with discovery. Discovery of all realities, all things there to be touched, smelled, or tasted, are the senses we utilize when we perceive something in closeness. And yet, such senses of those individual three, are always to be the senses utilized when in that ‘heat of lust’ we describe to be made for ‘blood, sweat, and tears’. From flesh, we bleed, and through pain, we feel it. From sweat, we smell it. From tears, we taste them, as they drain to our open mouth. And, for the other two senses, of sight and sound, we can still be close enough to see, close enough to hear, either the sight of pain, or the sounds of pain.
For to be close enough to touch, smell, or taste, may as well be close enough to be the cause of the injury. For how can we cause the injury without opening the wound, or in the case of discovery, opening the book?
‘Appetite’ is the word we use during when we consume, utilizing the three ‘lustful senses’ in exact consecutive order. We touch the flesh, to smell the flesh, to taste the flesh. And, we are all rapists of ourselves and others at that point, obsessed with privacy and identity.”

Poem – “Love Has Breached a Corner in our Wilderness” – Romance – 10/16/2019

October 16, 2019
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I turn around to repeat,
In careless repetition,
All vows and emotions, upon a plate of fate,
You deny what was offered,
From a dying God,
From a man with all the might to his fight,
His eyes were upon you,
And faced the enormous creation,
Of a statue in what he’d not undo,
A love from all broken strings,
Upon one delicate harp,
Upon one frozen heart.
I fought to cleanse the hate from my plate,
From the dish that served rather coldly,
All the misfortune I spent for a night,
For you to eat up my words.
You are the child at the feet of God,
Born with wings, aflame,
Though, are crawling with those who are lame,
There is idleness to your eyes,
And serpent shapes to your fingers.
I was born to love and to swallow tears,
Puddles glisten in my palms,
Overflown upon what gently lingers,
The subject of pain placed at my heel,
Born to desert, and gracefully feel.
Your eyes are the scorn in the desert,
The desert wind under my command,
Is all to make me a man.
The faces in their frequent shadows,
Their hearts in puddles so shallow.
Face me, dear woman, with torn heart,
All memories come barreling down,
Upon the corner of our wilderness.
In the meadow of a tearful love,
Where droplets of dew form on grass,
There is your face of its gentle sight,
For my truest love made to last.

Words of Wisdom – “A State of Perpetual Distrust as a Form of Foolish Wisdom” – Philosophy on Love – 10/16/2019

October 16, 2019
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“I have come across those who state to never trust those out of caution for a world too distrusting, though their state of distrust has only come about from frequent experiences of betrayal. It should be made into academia, whatever mindset causes a person to be attracted to those never meant to be trusted. Those with bad hearts, are spoiled apples, and they end up spoiling the entire batch, as the saying goes. And yet, where is the belief in the word ‘proof’? As trust is earned, so is distrust. One proves themselves able enough to be trusted, or unable enough to be distrusted. Both require proof, and so, where is the wisdom in stating that a person should be immediately distrusted, though perhaps even treat that same person as a friend? Where is the purpose, when around someone said to be a friend, to cast wary glances in that friend’s way? Such only causes that friend of the distrusting individual, to be hurt, until their own heart turns just as spoiled as the distrusting one. For that is because this ‘perpetual state of distrust’ is merely a subtle form of betrayal.”

Flash Story – “Too Indebted to Move” – Romantic Literature – 10/14/2019

October 14, 2019
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“The heart races for one reason, to let one know the sound of a march; for there have been as many lovers upon this Earth as there have been deaths of bloodied soldiers.”

Between birds and stones, flesh and bones, we sing that song of love as like a message on the wind; though, where does it stray? It strays nowhere, if the lover remembers, and keeps hold of moments beneath trees as old as time. Surrender to it, and this means to surrender to the shudders from your heart. The heart races for one reason, to let one know the sound of a march; for there have been as many lovers upon this Earth as there have been deaths of bloodied soldiers. They drank the contents that flowed up into the esophagus, that should have been contents touched not by the flight of indifference, though by the comfort of love.

“I am too indebted to move onward from this flame, the love we are holding close to ourselves,” says a man with a glass of rose wine to his lips, staring upon a nude before himself, with glances heavy and long, “Your eyes, magnificent in shape; your form is a plaza of many stands, each showing ripened fruit for the occasion; and how I would hold a pair of breasts alike pears to be swallowed whole.”

Love is a sculpture, beheld before a man as a woman of his making, of the wholeness to his honesty; and, nothing is allowed to break it, for him to retreat back into the waves where his loneliness resides.

He approaches the woman, with flame to his mind, burning all weariness from former attraction to an enemy of rest. To a workforce, that had bought his time and sold him his fortune, for a place among a union of degraded and futile; they had all aimed to see a future too far. Too far, and too unknown, for love remains as the most unexpected thing to manifest itself before a one, and it is a wall.

He names himself as the “broken one” to her, before nestling his head in a bed of flesh. Warmth surrounds as easy as the sun may surround the Earth, so it isn’t winter upon every morsel of land.

Words of Wisdom – “On How to Comprehend the Femme Fatale” – Philosophy on Psychology – 10/14/2019

October 14, 2019
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“Where a man has his genitalia for annexation, it would be when he annexes the woman down south, at the southern tip of her, as the Earth and all of land, so that all of Antarctica melts. Conquer her heart, first, all of men, before the annexation; because, should a man do the latter before the former, her lust will be a blaze, will be absorbed by her, will be spread outward from her, to make an uncontrollable inferno that all will desire to be burned by.”

“There is great strength resonating through a woman, when she is continually deceived. Allow a woman to work, as offensive as that may sound, and she will be continually deceived, through what deception is ultimately defined as. Deception has the definition of ‘usage’, to pull a human away from a home, and maintain continual usage upon the subject, until they are worn thin. It would be the same as pulling a potential slave from their native homeland, and putting them to work under the command of a master. No one forgives the Femme Fatale, for a woman of this sort cannot ever be forgiven for doings; for that is because they continually attract and doom, based on previous experiences. A society of seduction is only ever introduced due to the female psychology that resonates itself around continual usage of the person. Lust, that is, is the place of deception, is the place of usage; to be placed upon the bed, and make whatever one wills of a body, is the essence of utility. Love holds, love embraces, and never lets go, whereas lust is wild and its flames are uncontrollable.

The words ‘until they are worn thin’ is when a woman, when being deceived, will be starved of any forgiveness. In love, a woman has limited forgiveness to offer. In lust, a woman turns forgiveness into allurement. That means, for whomever unlucky man comes across her path, he will feel the continual guilt of doing, making him continually weaker, under her rays of beauty. And, more-so, such a deceived and deceiving woman will be obsessed with appearance.”

Words of Wisdom – “A Man’s Manhood in Romance” – Philosophy on Love – 10/14/2019

October 14, 2019
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“Should a man smile upon the exiting from a romance, he is dirt. He is the fool, without the water that he ever drunk from being the waters of a woman’s heart. The path before him was always solid as dirt, and he never was inside a woman’s heart. He was sure, he was certain, without any place to soak himself in her tears, shower himself in her sadness; because, when he does, that is when he does the second thing to prove himself, after the first thing. Begging for forgiveness is the second time when a man submits himself to her might. A woman’s might, in this sense, places a man first on his knees, during when he proposes, and the second time on his knees when he’s committed a grave error that may end the romance.
The quote that describes a man’s home as his fortress, are the walls he keeps sturdy from within, because those walls are the walls of a woman’s heart. He is within it, and he is trapped, willingly so.”

Words of Wisdom – “A Man’s Tears of Failure” – Philosophy on Love – 10/14/2019

October 14, 2019
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“When does a man weep, one may ask? It is when he has lost. Show a woman to him, and he will never again see the world in black and white, caught between success and failure. He will see the colors of her, from her smile, from her scent, from her garments.
Though, should he lose her, he will feel as though he’s lost, once more, receding him back to a former time. He will never want to see his own face, he will neglect cleaning himself, and his own garments will turn to rags.”