Thou art no man, though of a man’s complexion…

…Sometimes her arms infold him like a band;
She would, he will not in her arms be bound;
And when from thence he struggles to be gone,
She locks her lily fingers one in one.

‘Fondling,’ she saith, ‘ since I have hemm’d thee here,
Within the circuit of this ivory pale,
I’ll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;
Feed where thou wilt, on moutain or in dale…

4 Responses to “Pressed Words, Pressed Heat”


  1. 1 alibiagent January 13, 2007 at 16:50

    from Venus and Adonis

    To toy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest;
    Scorning his churlish drum and ensign red.
    Making my arms his field, his tent my bed…..

    ‘Were I hard-favour’d, foul, or wrinkled-old,
    Ill-nurtur’d, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,
    O’er-worn, despised, rheumatic, and cold,
    Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lacking juice,
    Then mightst thou pause, for then I were
    not for thee;
    But having no defects, why dost abhor me?

    ….’Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
    Or, like a fairey, trip upon the gree,
    Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell’d hair,
    Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:
    Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
    Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.

  2. 2 etian February 1, 2007 at 16:20

    These forceless flowers like sturdy trees
    support me;
    Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky
    From morn till night, even where I list to sport me.
    Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be
    That thou should think it heavy unto thee?

  3. 3 sunuser February 24, 2007 at 0:53

    All that most maddens and torments; all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. He piled upon the whale’s white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart’s shell upon it.

  4. 4 sunuser May 26, 2007 at 21:09

    i can’t imagine
    i can’t believe
    i can’t raise my head above my knees

    i don’t talk about it
    i don’t bleed
    i just wear my shirt over my sleeve

    { lyrics }


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