tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40509370694437825742024-03-07T22:15:52.069-05:00Run of the MillThis site will hopefully become the culmination of my creative and literary works of the personal and scholarly persuasion.The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-65018484325422368862009-04-15T14:00:00.001-04:002009-04-15T14:01:34.872-04:00One of the Most AMAZING Women in the World<p align="center">Irena Sendler</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_t2gBu0sjPF0/SeYg_VPvlxI/AAAAAAAAAT4/kBIuhLm1Plk/s1600-h/image00111121%5B2%5D.jpg"><img title="image00111121" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-bottom: 0px" height="244" alt="image00111121" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_t2gBu0sjPF0/SeYg_nlpcvI/AAAAAAAAAT8/gVWBS-NEeKo/image00111121_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" border="0" /></a> <br />There recently was a death of a 98 year-old lady named Irena. During W.W.II, Irena, got permission to work in the Warsaw Ghetto, as a Plumbing/Sewer specialist. She had an 'ulterior motive'... She KNEW what the Nazi's plans were for the Jews, (being German). Irena smuggled infants out in the bottom of the tool box she carried and she carried in the back of her truck a burlap sack, (for larger kids). She also had a dog in the back that she trained to bark when the Nazi soldiers let her in and out of the ghetto. The soldiers of course wanted nothing to do with the dog and the barking covered the kids/infants noises. During her time of doing this, she managed to smuggle out and save 2500 kids/infants. She was caught, and the Nazi's broke both her legs, arms and beat her severely. Irena kept a record of the names of all the kids she smuggled out and kept them in a glass jar, buried under a tree in her back yard. After the war, she tried to locate any parents that may have survived it and reunited the family. Most of course had been gassed. Those kids she helped got placed into foster family homes or adopted. <br /></p> <p>In 2009 Irena was up for the Nobel Peace Prize ... She was not selected. <br />*Al Gore won, for a slide show on Global Warming.</p> The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-12375456128535894632009-04-10T23:14:00.001-04:002009-04-10T23:14:31.665-04:00I’m a little weird but…<p>Last night, while laying in bed trying to sleep I started thinking of this story I had heard once where a girl told her boyfriend she wanted him to kidnap her and rape her for her boyfriend. He was caught and got arrested before the girl could tell the cops everything was alright (she was bound and gagged in the back of van they used). It got me thinking about the Law and Order: SVU episodes I’ve seen and how horrible rape is. But I also started thinking about my own feelings about rape. I remember at one time, when I was in my early teens and messed up as hell, that I wanted some stranger to rape me because then somehow I’d be attractive to at least one person out there. I realize now how completely irrational and stupid that notion is. I know now that rape is nothing more than a control issue and is rarely about the sex. Sometimes I’m grateful that I’m not perfect looking so that I never become the target of rape but I do want to be attractive. Anyways, based off my earlier teenage feelings I started concocting a poem of a woman’s experience of a rape that she actually wanted to happen. Maybe I should do one about a woman who doesn’t want to be raped who does. I wanted to get my thoughts down before I forgot them in the hecticness of my life. Hopeful I’ll get around to writing them sometime this year. ;D</p> The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-76422623347733096572009-04-09T10:03:00.000-04:002009-04-09T10:04:11.988-04:00Chaucer Can Suck It....<span style="font-family: arial;">Hello whoever is reading this. I’ve decided that I’m gonna try this new thing where I actually use my blog since my mom asked me about it a while ago. I told her I didn’t have time. So sue me. I still don’t have time but I’d rather write my thoughts down right now instead of listening to my crazy teacher talk about Chaucer. Yay..... not.<br /><br />So, here we go. I guess I’ll start with the very present thoughts and then go back in time.<br /><br />I was driving to class today and this asshole decided to be a bitch. I guess it was because he was black and I was a white female and he couldn’t let me be in front of him. (More of my slight racist remarks later, there is a reason, I promise.) So I’m going down the highway and refusing to let him pass me on the right (one it’s illegal and two I was already going way faster than the posted speed limit and I hate when people are so goddamn impatient that they have to go even faster than everyone else.) Anyway, he finally cuts me off and starts weaving in and out of traffic because he’s pissed off and probably trying to kill anyone and everyone in his way. Who the fuck knows.....<br /><br />On another note, I took a shower this morning, washed my hair. My hair is freaking crazy and has gotten more so the older I get. I haven’t done much damage to it either. But my mother has fine, thin, stick straight hair and my father has thick, crazy curly hair. And then they had me. Yeah, it sucks butt on the best of days. I find that the layers of hair below my ear line are typically straight-ish and the layers on top have this completely random curl thing going on. Moving on....<br /><br />Monday night I ate dinner at a restaurant called Longhorn Steakhouse. The service was impeccable, I never ran out of something to drink and the food came out promptly and hot. My fiance and I had little breaded and fried shrimp with ranch dip for an appetizer and it was delicious. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. For dinner I had an 8 oz steak (which I didn’t finish) and it was perfect. It was the best steak I’ve ever had. I also got mashed potatoes and french fries. Yes, I know, I’m a fatty. But I didn’t even eat the french fries, I just took them home with me. We also got a slice of key lime pie for dessert to go. We ate that way later that night and it was good too, slightly bitter but I have nothing to compare the taste to except Yopliat yogurt flavored key lime pie.<br /><br />Sunday. Oh what can I say about Sunday. The day held such promise. My best friend and I were all set to go see her favorite musician of all time, Chris Cornell. He was playing at a club in DC that night. Well we had decided to leave earlyish and eat lunch in DC and maybe do a little sightseeing. Well stupid me, I decided to wear the most uncomfortable shoes that have a tendency of giving me absolutely no support and make my feet feel like they’re on fire. Not fun at all. I’m getting ahead of myself here. We get up around 9 a.m. and take showers and fix our hair and do our makeup. We were pumped and I was driving so that we’d get there in a reasonable amount of time because I’m a little speed demon and she goes the speed limit even though she’s two years older than me. So we arrive in DC, find the club and try to find out where I get my parking ticket (since the website told me to pick it up at the box office) and we were told we couldn’t get it until an hour before the doors opened. Well then. So we find a parking spot along 7th street (in a not so nice part of DC) and start walking to Hooters, where we had decided to have lunch. It was about 7 or 8 blocks away. Yippeeeeeee...... We had 4 hours to kill at this point. We finally get to Hooters and seated and the waitress comes over to get our drink orders, I ordered water and told her my BFF was in the bathroom. She was like ok, whatever and left. My BFF came back and I went to the bathroom. I cam back and we were trying to decide what to order. After we finally ordered, I noticed a couple of guys seated behind us. They received their food at least 10 minutes before us even though they arrived and ordered after we did. Hmmm. Then I saw our waitress chatting up a table about the menu. She didn’t do that with us... Maybe it was because they were black men and we were white females. Oh did I mention that all of the waitress were black? Yeah. So anyway, she visits the table maybe twice after the meal arrived to ask us how we were. Then I ran out of water. Ok, well I’l put it on the edge of the table to get refilled. I waited at least 10 minutes before she came over and refilled it. Then we finished eating and waited another 10 minutes for the check. Another 5 for her to pick up the check and then another 10 for her to bring the receipt. Fuck this shit. We both left less than 15% and left very upset. (They weren’t busy at all either. Waitresses had time to fucking sit down at the tables around us....)<br /><br />We went further down into the nicer part of DC to visit the Smithsonian museum of Natural History. I made my BFF confront a T-Rex. She hates dinos... LOL. I got a picture of it and set it as my phone background. It makes me smile when I look at it.<br /><br />Throughout all this wandering, we decided we wanted ice cream since it was warm and very nice outside. Cheap ice cream + poor college students = McDonald’s. So began our quest for the Mickey D’s. I told her my feet were killing me and I had to rest so we went to Starbucks and got crappy treatment again. So we finally get back to the car (it felt like 80 blocks) and drive to the nearest McDonald’s found with VZ Navigator. It was like 3 blocks away towards the club (in the sketch part of town again, I remind you.) We get there finally and I told my BFF I’d wait for her at one of the tables since the line was long, I had had Starbucks and my feet were still killing me. She waited in line forever, people who had come in after her got their food and were sitting down eating and she was still waiting for her freaking ice cream cone. Three people got ice cream and she finally caught the attention of a manager and told him that she had a vanilla cone. He handed it to her and left without saying a word. She walked over to the table and and was almost in tears she was so angry. We left and sat out in the car to wait out the time we had left till we could go to the club and park. Oh did I mention that she and I were the ONLY whites in there, not mention that we were females. Yeah, and they say racism isn’t alive in America. I’m sorry but maybe we were treated like that because blacks think they rule the country because the president is HALF black and they want to punish us like we punished them? Fuck that shit. I don’t treat anyone different because of the color of their skin. Racism is still present and white people aren’t the majority of the people who are discriminating anymore.<br /><br />We finally end up back at the club and wait outside the doors for an hour (OMG my feet) and then we get inside and wait another hour (OMG my feet) and then the opening band comes on (OMG my feet and ears, they weren’t that good) and THEN we wait another hour before Chris comes on. In between that time, they’re playing songs through the speakers and this woman is singing behind me and she sounds like an off-key mouse and then she starts touching me and rubbing my back. OMG creepy. I started singing in my really bad annoying singing voice, making fun of her and she just keeps on touching me. UGH...............<br /><br />Well Chris comes on and I’m feeling better and taking pictures and we’re all happy. He did some of his older songs too (which I’m not as familiar with) and I was kinda sad cause I didn’t know what was going on. I also started feeling really really bad since my feet still hurt, my knees were buckling. I though I was gonna faint. I told my BFF I was going to the bathroom quick. I just needed to sit for a second. I fought my way through the crowd, that was hell. And then I dreaded going back through that crap so I texted her and told I was going to the car and I’d wait for her out there. I felt so bad cause she had waited forever to see him and was having a good time and I was ruining it but she told me I wasn’t. Still didn’t stop me from feeling that way though. She ended up leaving the concert early to make sure I was ok even though I told her to stay. I felt, correction, still feel like crap for that. I only hope that it was almost over and she didn’t miss much.<br /><br />So that’s what’s been going on with me these past couple of days. How’d your weekend go? </span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-247943472888668112009-04-08T20:10:00.001-04:002009-04-08T20:10:54.787-04:00The Lioness<span style="font-family: arial;">Where I live we worry about being attacked by an African Lioness. Apparently she escaped a local zoo and has managed to elude the authorities for over a month now. She’s one smart cookie. Now don’t think that I live out in the boonies where she would have plenty of empty land in which to hide. I live in the suburbs. Maybe 15 minutes away from a fairly large city. So my question is, why hasn’t she been caught yet? My theory is that either she’s too smart (I think I’ll name her Amy) or the authorities are really dumb. Maybe both, who knows? I have yet to see Amy though. I’ve seen video and pictures of her though. I’ll post any youtube videos I find for you. This one lady was on the news the other day saying that she thought it was her domestic lynx that’s been missing over a year. Yeah… I don’t think so lady. It’s pretty hard to tell a cat from a lion, I’ll tell you what. Maybe one day I’ll leave my house and get attacked by Amy and live to tell the tale. Maybe not. Either way, it’d be a pretty sweet way to die. I can just see the headlines now, “Local VCU students gets maimed by African Lioness’. Ahhh the fame!</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-81929834337346048552009-04-08T20:03:00.000-04:002009-04-08T20:05:35.019-04:00Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder<span style="font-family: arial;">Did my heart love till now?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Forswear it sight,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">~ Romeo and Juliet.~</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> ~Ivan Panin ~</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">~ Edgar Allen Poe~</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">She walks in beauty,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies;</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">And all that's best of dark and bright</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Meet in her aspect and her eyes</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> ~Lord Byron ~</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The stars of midnight shall be dear</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">To her; and she shall lean her ear</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">In many a secret place</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Where rivulets dance their wayward round,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Three years she grew in Sun and Shower</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> ~William Wordsworth 1770-1850~</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-12534964231386966122009-04-08T20:01:00.000-04:002009-04-08T20:02:07.597-04:00B.O. - November 4th, 2008<span style="font-family: arial;">Question.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Everything you hear,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">thoughts, and words and truths meld,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">how could you ever see what’s real?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Question.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">What’s so special about that color,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">we were breed specially,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">ignore it, trash it, forget it?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Question.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Change is coming, they said,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">convince my eyes, my brain, my ears,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">is talk that “oh so cheap” to us?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Solution.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Care for everything.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Live for everyday.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Love for everyone.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Die for nothing.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-52826618380510690542009-04-08T20:00:00.002-04:002009-04-08T20:01:05.271-04:00US vs YOU<span style="font-family: arial;">It’s time.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Time to wake up,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Time to smell the rotting air,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Time to truly see.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For far too long have we stayed silenced.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Silenced by our friends,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Silenced by our family,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Silenced by ourselves.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For we are ones afraid of failure.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Afraid of disappointment,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Afraid of the screaming and fighting,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Afraid for our lives.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">We are the ones who have no life.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">No dignity,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">No money,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">No home.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But if we be so helpless then why do you still beat us?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Beat us with sticks,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Beat us with guns,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Beat us with words.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Because it’s you who is afraid!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Afraid of yourself.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-12947378933189056952009-04-08T20:00:00.001-04:002009-04-08T20:00:20.481-04:00Snow<span style="font-family: arial;">Falling slowly in the winter wind,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Dancing, prancing in the clear blueness,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Licking the bitter cold,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Tasting nature’s sweet sugar,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Feeling the iciness creep up my sleeves</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">as I make the first angel of the season,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Experiencing a winter wonderland</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">through the eyes of an childish innocent.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-80420782533472443862009-04-08T19:59:00.001-04:002009-04-08T19:59:43.384-04:00Repent<span style="font-family: arial;">If I could take back </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">every wrong thing said,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I would…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d bury it deep </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">within my heart</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and there it would stay,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">eating me slowly</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">every word like acid,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">like cancer it’ll consume me</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">till nothing’s left…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I’ll sleep restlessly</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">awoken by my lies</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">by my deceit</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">by my lost innocence…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I’ll be reminded everyday</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of what I almost said</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and I’d be thankful</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">that I didn’t say it all…</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-7191468402723891622009-04-08T19:58:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:59:17.901-04:00Question?<span style="font-family: arial;">I sit staring at the photo</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of that wonderful night with you,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">marveling at our beauty</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and cursing the distance.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">You should know one thing,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the story of a stolen heart</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">with you as the daring culprit,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">me as the willing victim.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I pledge myself to you,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">completely and without doubt,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">but will you do the same </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">for me?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">All I ask from you</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">is LOVE,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">sweet pure virgin love,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">reserved exclusively for me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Could you ever love me</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">more than I love you?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Impossible?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Your love cannot bear </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the universe,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">as mine does…</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-9140654940156104122009-04-08T19:57:00.001-04:002009-04-08T19:57:32.789-04:00Our Love<span style="font-family: arial;">Our love is lava.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">liquid fire,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Earth’s own molten blood,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">it rides my veins,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">hot and sticky,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">rising up in my slender white throat</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">this swell of passion </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">erupts…</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">becoming words that only you,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">my beloved,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">can hear.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-77881899912723935972009-04-08T19:56:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:57:07.190-04:00Ode to Love's Greatest Secret<span style="font-family: arial;">When you are near,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">My heart speeds up.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">When you are far,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I die inside.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">My world crumbles,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Without you in it.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">When you came,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The darkness was lifted.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">My life was incomplete before,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But now I am whole.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Two halves that fit together</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">So perfectly.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">When I cried,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">You were there to kiss the tears away.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">When I was angry at the world,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">You were there to hold me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">If only these words were enough,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">To express what I feel inside,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But they don’t, the way you know</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">is through my kiss.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The softness, the passion, </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the love, the tenderness.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Can you feel it yet?</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-18276877400621612092009-04-08T19:55:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:56:24.331-04:00Modern Day Babylon<span style="font-family: arial;">Show me your riches, your glamorous wealth; </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">your high life of overwhelming sophistication,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">marked by overwhelming voracity is</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">coveted by masses : shunned by individuals</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and you, the Almighty God of Kings,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">have effaced all truth and nobleness</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">but you have built a most magnificent monument</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">to attest your heavenly power and known by all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The days of old could teach even Gods a lesson,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Joyous days, laughing at winter, embracing Freedom</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">but Now! Chained slaves are we</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">to your written word, for Power frightens.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Please scare us more, scare into submission,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">into conformity, into devotion and even fidelity</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">for we sacrifice for your ignoble glory,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">your glamorous wealth, and your shining Heaven.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-82739448307182195062009-04-08T19:54:00.002-04:002009-04-08T19:55:20.347-04:00J'adore l'amour...<span style="font-family: arial;">Delve deep into my memories</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and there you shall find my secret desires,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">hidden from the harsh world of judgement,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">And within these most sacred desires,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">lies the shadows of my hidden treasures,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">glittering in the damp dirty darkness,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">If you look into the abyss of my soul,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">you will see my most cherished treasure,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">you, the Romeo of my fantasies,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The memory of your touch</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">makes my body tingle with pleasure,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">dusting the fleshy cobwebs from my mind,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The memory of your body</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">makes me sigh in ecstasy,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">creating a fire within my loins,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The memory of your lips</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">makes my breath flee into the night,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">like a vampire seeking its prey,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The memory of your tongue</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">makes an ocean of primitive moans,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">rising up in my heart, crashing upon my soul,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The memory of your voice</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">makes my body shiver eagerly,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and my flesh dance and tremble,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But the memory of you</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">makes my tears salty raindrops upon the earth,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">leaving only death in their wake,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For you are only a memory</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">until you hold me once again,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">turning my dreams into reality.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-83339936490333752372009-04-08T19:54:00.001-04:002009-04-08T19:54:42.997-04:00How?<span style="font-family: arial;">Why do you stand there</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">on the jagged edge of that precipice?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Standing there with your slashed wrists</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and bruised, broken soul.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Where is the strength of a nation</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">for the confused, aimless millions?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Strength to carry on and live,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">when there is nothing left to live for.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Who fed the harrowing tear,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">that cuts so smoothly inch by inch?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The tear that feeds the shadowmonsters</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of doubt and insecurity.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">When did you sacrifice your love</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of living, of being free?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Sacrificing the emotional control</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">that led to your bloodied bruises.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">What did you find there</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">on that jagged edge of that precipice?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Find your joy and sorrow,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">your final escape, the end. </span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-61232949774638776522009-04-08T19:53:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:54:18.600-04:00His Temple<span style="font-family: arial;">If a body is a temple</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">then yours is surely the finest.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Your eyes like stained glass</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">reflecting your emotions,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Your voice saying the holiest things</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and the naughtiest, all music to my ears,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Your hands as hard as church pews</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">but what gentleness they posses,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Your heart as bright as sunshine</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">filtering through your wonderful kindness,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Your soul as pure as holy ground</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">always putting others first,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Your body is a temple</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and it is the finest.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-32394208058041606792009-04-08T19:50:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:51:17.339-04:00Garden of Eden<span style="font-family: arial;">The Moon’s motherly embrace protects</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">my roaming spirit as it flits</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">over the foggy dewgrass, as it skims</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the placid tops of pregnant lakes</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I dissolve into a different world,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">an innocent world, a magical world,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">untouched by the evils of Our world,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">where sin and corruption do not breed,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">a world left to the imagination of minds.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Jubilant flowers sing their love melodies</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">as my relieved spirit drifts by, and the trees, </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">they offer me their sweet succulent fruit,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the most delectable and pleasing to the eye,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">while the wild tame creatures gather ‘round</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">to hear the chronicles of sorrow and regret,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">it is here I am lost to my old ways,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">left to live once again as a child</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">free from circumstance that kept me prisoner,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">flourishing under the wind’s wise whisper,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">which banished my crimson clouds, </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">dripping with blood of the lost, weary, tormented,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">they depart, and cotton candy clouds replace them,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">giving food to the children of this paradise,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and the children, the ones saved so early,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">saved from the wicked world from whence I came,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">they bask in His loving rays of forgiveness,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">calling out to me, pleading with me,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">for nothing but a taste of my world,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">but I ignore their cries and refuse their pleas,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">frightened of the horror which fills my memory,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">only to protect them from their escaped destiny,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and then I feel the dearly departed grab at me,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">pull me down, beseech me, </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">wanting me to tell of loved ones they left behind,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and my family and all the creatures I loved in life,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">hug me with tears in their imploring eyes,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">wanting only to feel me once more,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">but suddenly my soul, seized with shock,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">seeps back into the cold white hell,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">greeted by the white walls and sterile smells</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">from which I escaped,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and a tiny anguished cry escapes my throat.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-41801888255399836342009-04-08T19:48:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:50:05.505-04:00Gaias Tears<span style="font-family: arial;">Have you ever seen the slick gleam of rain</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">water on a tin roof? Or heard the soft</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">pitter patter across a glassy shield?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Or felt the squishy mud between your toes?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Smelt a flower blooming, a tree crying,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">a blade growing, or a cool wind sighing?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Ever tasted acidic Gaia tears? </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, be blessed if you know the feeling</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste a spring rain.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-12361455708599712722009-04-08T19:47:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:48:14.642-04:00Blurred<span style="font-family: arial;">what becomes of life</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">when one succumbs to death?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">You;</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">not yet cold</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">still warm in fact!</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">but already owned by HIM…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">white walls</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">hollow halls</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">so near, so far </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">a cosmic order</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of life?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">baby cries</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">You. Must. Die.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Snow;</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">draws you away</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">whispers its story</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">sings sweetly, softly, slowly</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">You;</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">feel. no. relief. feel. only.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">ANGER!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">that life is stolen.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">that death steals.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">a crimson blanket</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">covers</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">THE stolen life;</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and you?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">in your whitetomb</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and your snow?</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">HE sings sweetly, softly…</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-75014074998406204262009-04-08T19:46:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:47:07.038-04:00Soul Barings<span style="font-family: arial;">Do you remember your childhood? Mine wasn’t so long ago... Well further than I think because I was forced to grow up too soon. But I remember when I went to visit my grandparents and my grandfather was actually there, my grandmother was happy and I was able to enjoy myself and be a kid and play outside. I remember that when you were a kid, your family tried to shield you from all the bad things happening, either in the world or with their personal life. Learning that you’re grandfather died came as a shock because no one told you how serious it was. Or when you never knew that your step-grandfather didn't go to the hospital because he couldn’t afford it. How about never seeing your grandmother cry? I had a horrible childhood and I would never want to relive those bad parts, but the few precious good ones? I’d give anything. I wish I had a better relationship with my extended family. Wish I knew them better. But I was kept from them for so long and now I have no idea how to reconnect with them. I feel abandoned by my father because it never seems like he has time for me or wants to see me all that badly. I know everyone has their problems and I don’t mean to sound like I’m complaining. I think sometimes I let everything float to the back of my mind and think only about stupid little superficial shit, like how much I don’t want to go to work, and lose sight of everything I’ve overcome and I have to remind myself so that I realize just how good I have it right now in my life. I only hope that the gods smile upon me and continue to keep me in their good graces. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I wonder now that I’m all grown up, if I’m really ready to be all grown up. I’ve waited all my life to be grown-up and be on my own and be my own person, out of my mom and IT’s shadow and it hasn’t really panned out the way I thought it would. It’s good, just not how I’d imagine it. There’s never enough time or energy or money to get everything I want and that’s not how I imagined it. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I worry that I’ve lost my drive and my creativity for writing. I used to just get random little spurts of poetry out of nowhere. Is it because I’m so happy? Does my life have to be in chaos to spark me? Is my brain mush now from all the TV and mundane bull I bombard myself with every day?? What about the fact that I can’t shut it all off? I have to have the TV or music playing at all times or I go crazy and get all paranoid.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I guess I’m just very confused right now. And I don’t even know why I’m confused. Just that I am.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-76245789784991496052009-04-08T19:45:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:46:16.706-04:00Ode to the Earthly Guardians<span style="font-family: arial;">Hearken to my words</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">oh wise ones of North,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Join me now, if you please,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">on this magical journey,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Lend me the strength</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of ten thousand forests,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">standing against all of the elements,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Lend me the determination</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of your keepers, the dwarves,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">carving beauty out of your bones,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Lend me the elegance</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of a field of poppies, </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">turning their shining faces towards the sun,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Lend me the wisdom </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of an owl, bold and true,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">sharing his secrets with the Moon,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Lend me the sight</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of a fox, small and cunning,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">aware of all and scared of few,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Lend me the leadership</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of a wolf, fierce and loving,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">teaching young ones the ways of the pack,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">And never shall I falter </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">with your guiding hand,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">For you rest within my soul, </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">anchoring me to the Mother.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Blessed Be.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-4744655047645381302009-04-08T19:44:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:45:23.966-04:00Confessions<span style="font-family: arial;"> Let me start by saying I love her. We’ve been together for almost three years and I truly believe that she’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Having said this, she doesn’t satisfy a very important need of mine. I mean, a man needs certain things. Women are supposed to need these things too. Maybe not as often as men, but still. She’s so cold in the bedroom. She never wants to do anything creative (creatively normal things, not freaky things). I’m talking different positions every once in awhile and maybe some verbal communication in the bedroom. Something, anything, would be better than what it is now. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> So, to satisfy those needs, I cheated. I regret doing it, I think. I enjoyed it so much and that makes me feel so guilty. The other woman rocked my world so hard, I could barely breathe when we were done. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> Please believe that I never intended to cheat on my fiancee. It just kinda happened. I know that sounds so cliche, but it’s true. After work one day, I went to the local bar and I talked to the bartender for a little while. He was really personable and goofy. He made me laugh. He had this curly blonde hair that reminded me of the stupid guy in that Alltel commercial. And when he made drinks he always made faces or arranged the fruit in an interesting way. Almost makes me want to be a bartender.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> So anyway, a beautiful young blonde thing comes in and sits next to me. She completely ignores me for a little while and I ignore her too, thinking about my fiancee and fantasizing about having real sex with her. Then this woman turns to me and asks me why I’m not falling all over myself trying to impress her. I told her I was engaged and that I don’t look at women like that anymore. She pouted and it was sorta beautiful. She turned away again and looked deep in thought. Then she put her hand on my leg and turned toward me again and said that she’d never been rejected before. I told her not to take it personal and took her hand off of my knee. She put it back and inched it slowly up my leg. I just stared at her, getting an erection that betrayed my true feelings about the situation. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> I think that men have it rough sometimes. Our bodies betray us. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">To Be Continued...</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4050937069443782574.post-9594154406609042692009-04-08T19:42:00.000-04:002009-04-08T19:43:44.755-04:00Imbolc<span style="font-family: arial;">Now is the time to celebrate,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the tide is turning</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">He is growing, the infant Sun,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Changing, Reaching for </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Her barren body,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">ready to touch the leaflings</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">not yet seeded in the womb</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">of the young maiden.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Her light gives birth and </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the dark is no longer,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the milk of life flows</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">from her bosom,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">serving all that need it,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and the warmth </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">grows,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">spreads,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">sinks</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">into the frozen earth,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">pushing Her snake from </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">the dark of the world,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">slithering out to test the cold</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and staying, feeling his mother,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">her warmth and love,</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">and the beginning of Spring.</span>The Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06653830254210256446noreply@blogger.com0