Back in 2002 I wrote a few short vignettes, very image-rich and poetic prose. While all writing is in some form autobiographical, these snippets are primarily fiction. Here is the first handful of "literary photographs" that I took back then...
First Kiss
Standing on a curb she kisses him deeply. Their tongues mingle & dance with each other. In that single moment they are the only two people on Earth. Everyone else disappears into the periphery. You stand off to the side, glancing over at them occasionally. A part of you is jealous; remembering your own moments of total happiness that never lasted, but while they were there, nothing else compared. You walk away, not interrupting. This is their time.
You remember your first kiss. You had never met her before, you knew from the moment you saw her… you knew it was her. While the elation passed, it put you on cloud 9 briefly. You felt you could surf through her long red locks, swim in the soothing blues of her eyes. That feeling slipped away in the ensuing months. But at that moment, the cars rushing by behind the two of you, the street lamp reflecting in her eyes, eyes that closed slowly as you leaned in to kiss her. Her fragrance lost in the filing cabinet of your memory until it’s rifled out by another woman with the same scent at some, as yet, undetermined moment. The taste of her lips on yours with the sound of passing cars and errant conversations you weren’t a part of fading deeper and deeper into the background.
Summer Campfire
They had the fragrance of vacation on them; the subtle perfumes and colognes of bug spray, sun-block, and campfire. With just one whiff you were taken back on a magic carpet of memories. You remember talking over the pale orange glow of the fire and the soft white from the pin pricks in the sky, the local classic rock station playing Blue Oyster Cult in the background as you reminisced about times past and played the all too familiar game of “catch-up” with brothers and sisters who’d become more like strangers passing on the street with the passage of time.
Sunset on the Bay
"Where did you go just now?" she looked at you with that look located somewhere between concern and curiousity.
"Come again?" not quite understanding what she means, you reflect her curiousity back at her.
"You got that distant look in your eyes again."
"Oh." She's right but a part of you just wants to stay in that place alone. The sun setting as the waves gently lap the shore, the occassional call of a seagull or splash of a fish coming up to figure out what the rest of us are looking at. The sun slowly turning from its afternoon yellows to its evening reds and crimsons as it dips into the water. Sailboats pass by, massaging your calm serene mood... This is your sanctuary. A sanctuary you enjoy sharing with the special people in your life but can't wait to enjoy alone... to get lost in the peace and to drown yourself in the sunset's embrace.
"Yea, I s'pose you're right." You smile at her with a look that says that's all she's getting from you.
Crimson Love
The flicker of the strobe, the soft glow of black lights as your hands are clasped with hers. Your lips dance together as your bare skin feels the electricity of hundreds of lightning bolts with each caress. The soothing and dark tones of King Crimson syncopate every kiss, every caress, every moan from her lips and yours. Your bodies crashing into each other like waves against the rocks. The smell of her perfume and shampoo fills you just as your musk overwhelms her. Your bodies are beyond thought, pleasure echoes through you. Every synapse; taste, touch, smell, and even the sight of your own eyelids clenched tight in exquisite pleasure is amplified. Your nerves short circuit as the music crescendoes and your bodies reverberate, shudder, and shake. As quickly as it hits, it's over. The music fades in the background as you lie next to each other. Aftershocks of pleasure course through your bodies as the soft flutes and vocals lull you both to sleep, smiling in each others arms-- your heartbeats in sync with each other, a metronome to the soft music dancing you into your dreams.
Awake at Sunrise
The sun pierces the blinds and your eyelids as you journey back to reality. One by one morning invades your five senses. The soft glow of dawn, the smell of the morning dew hanging on the grass, the sound of morning traffic rumbling softly at first, growing with intensity with each passing moment.
A foul dryness penetrates your tongue, jarring it awake, and the feel of her bare skin against yours and the light weight of the bed sheet resting over you pulls you back from the journey of your dreams. You feel her stir in your arms, the morning overcoming her as well. You look into each others eyes and smile.
(originally posted on Le Petit Mort on 7/14/02)
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
12 comments:
Amazing. You are very talented. I knew that, I just didn't know how to what degree. This captivated me. Excellent.
U WRITE SO WELL Mate! Beautiful work...
Keshi.
oh btw, I love
***your heartbeats in sync with each other, a metronome to the soft music dancing you into your dreams.
bit!
Keshi.
That was really neat.
Fantastic writing...you captured each individual moment so well. Snapshots of life, relived.
Barbara: Thank you for the kind words.
keshi: I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. I do have a few more that I will be posting at some point.
miss jay: Welcome to my blog! Thank you for the kind words. Oh when I checked out your profile, I got big kick out of your not-so-subtle jab at Carleton University. They have a beautiful campus, I didn't realize they were considered a "safety school" up there though.
Phoenix: I'm really glad that you seem to be getting as much enjoyment from my blogs as I get from yours.
Excellent writing. I'm glad you posted it.
There's nothing like that first kiss...
Thanks for your comments, I'll be back to read more!
Man, that's something I miss sometimes---a good summer campfire. There is nothing like it.
Green Eyes: Thank you. As for that first kiss. You're right, you never forget your firsts. I was a later bloomer (age 19) when that happened and since it wasn't that girl's first kiss, I don't know that she necessarily remembers it quite as vividly as I do.
Susan: Every year my entire family goes camping at Meacham Lake for about 2 weeks. With 6 of us kids, this is about the only opportunity for all of us to get together. Unfortunately, my wife & I won't be making it this year. But I had a blast in the short time I spent with my family up there last year.
I never have thought of it as the fragrence of vacation. Nice turn of phrase. It brings to mind the scents and aromas of the season.
fuzz: thanks for the kind words, man! Much appreciated. :-)
Post a Comment