I am watching Boer Soek ‘n Vrou and deary me, chewing foil would be more fun. The “probing” questions, the evasive Afrikaans farmer mustachioed, plaid shirt wearing, chino wielding bore meisters makes me seriously consider whacking my extremities on gangrene causing rusted ogiesdraad. /shudder

I’ve been trying to write to, and about, Him but I can’t find the words. I can’t even explain why I love him to Him. How do you write about something that is so good? Being with him is golden. I am at peace when he is around. But not the monkish-on-a-mountain-top-meditation kind of peace…the light becomes honey, my soul is lifted and my heart swirls adrenaline through all of me. To me, He is coming home. He is life, and joy and knowing that I want to be around Him and hear what he has to say every moment of the day. He is beautiful and kind. That feral, sweet smile breaks me every time. Which pretty much means your author is shattered Lego so often that should you be unfortunate enough to be around blocky bits of gory moi, you would be stumbling and muttering foul curses while clutching your (my or your blood?) sticky red toes.

I am happy :)…sickeningly so.

1. Word of the day:  substantive (The Sage: 3. being on topic and prompting thought)

2. Insight of the day: For the foreseeable future I am not cut out for management. I’ve lost my carefully cultivated corporate cool and will have to rebuild it before I can run our company.

3. State of the pool: Clear anise flavoured liquor headily swishing.

4. Joys of the day: 1. Concentrating because I feel the summer breeze and sunlight warms me. 2. Having D smile at me and imperiously and with a little tongue not yet used to hard consonants,  demand a sandwich.

5. Awesomest lines: Thank you MM. Pablo Neruda…get used to this. He will be featuring quite a lot :)

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.”

6. Scripture line: Ephesians 3 – New International Version. Mind blowing stuff!

¹⁴For this reason I kneel before the Father, ¹⁵from whom his whole family^[a] in heaven and on earth derives its name. ¹⁶I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, ¹⁸may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, ¹⁹and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Recent Entries

• Of life recently of discovering a new (for me) poet
• Of Joni Mitchell
• Of working and snooping
• Of the new year and Dirt Music
• Of the guilty pleasure of watching The Bachelor
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• Of teeth grinding frustration and the sheer awesome that is Google Wave
• Of stumbling down memory lane or how memory shapes personality
• Of beautiful girls
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This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 6th, 2009 at 7:54 pm and is filed under Love or lack of love, YGM. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.