Archive for death

until she reveals her face (part 2 of 8, from “A Tincture Of Tellurium”)

Posted in just for the bull of it, Love, poetry, relationships with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2010 by blackstarr

I live a sequestered life, for I fathom no reason

to give my precious love to one who is not the one.

She who is the one

has inscribed her being upon the walls of my soul.

Her eminence is forbearing:

imitation

would be an absurdity;

her authenticity

will be unmistakable;

when she appears, I will know.

She will have so rare a beauty that it will astound me.

She will come to me, emanating a trace of evil.

She will administer my fatal injection of ecstasy.

So, I wait, enduring my life in solitude

until she reveals her face to me.

When the night comes,

I close my eyes,

and, I feel her presence.

She is liquid persuasion.

In times of silence,

I perk my ears,

and, she speaks to me,

having the resonant voice of romance.

When i envision my future,

the intricacies of her beauty are fully displayed,

and, my zeal increases, as my ecstasy will not be long delayed.

I live my life sequestered, as if saving it

for some anointed one.

Is no one worthy but she?

Would not love . . . even mere interaction with others

be but dissipation, knowing what the future holds?

I dare not gamble.

surely she is toxic, absorbed in evil,

but, I will patiently endure my life in solitude

until she reveals her face to me.

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copyright  1997  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

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Poison (part 1 of 8, from “A Tincture Of Tellurium”)

Posted in Dreamscape, Love, poetry, prose, relationships, satire and sarcasm, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 17, 2010 by blackstarr

Tellurium . . . she was its human portrayal.

born in the year of fifty two,

passivity consummately overdue.

When she revealed herself to me, this sensuous Aphrodite

was a delightful one-hundred-twenty-eight pounds,

sister to the four winds, free-spirited, untamable.

Tell them that she is as exotic as neon, but, is, in no way, as innocuous.

Her beauty will be astonishing, a rare sight, to be sure.

But, let them be warned that she is

at the same time . . . toxiferous . . . noxious,

a tincture of tellurium.

Her voice was euphonic, yet, like a Grecian siren,

it was full-scale seduction,

and, imminent destruction.

She came to me as the eidolon,

that dream of perfection found, which never comes to be.

And, in the end, she became

. . . my injection,

. . . my addiction,

my reason for self-annihilation.

She was liquid xenon, flowing and unresponsive,

and, nearly as unattainable, her free heart unrestrainable.

My actions brought no reactions.

My words of affection were

. . . weightless molecules,

. . . soundless thoughts,

lost to the wind.

She was a secret code, an indecipherable mystery.

Here was the essence of the arcane,

perched upon a cryptographic plane.

Her eyes pulled me in, and,

her touch replenished.

Her kiss drained me of life itself.

She remained . . . ensconced, . . . unsolved,

even cloaked in a veil of non-divulgence.

Tellurium . . . but a faint trace is certain obliteration.

for to grasp the exotic, to taste of the erotic,

obliteration would have been a welcome relief.

So I grasped, I tasted, and, hastened my own undoing.

She was . . . astonishing . . . a rarity, she was a tincture of tellurium.

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copyright  1997  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

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I Go To Sleep

Posted in humor, satire and sarcasm, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , , , on December 23, 2009 by blackstarr

The events of the last few days have been quite surreal, particularly on the night that my mother was in the hospital, depending on life support to keep her going.  My sister and I were there already and the doctor said that it would be best if we took mom off of support as it is probably causing her more pain than doing any good.  We insisted that she be kept going at least until my brother gets to the hospital.  He arrived, he kissed mom on the cheek, and my mom’s life, as we knew it, was over.  It was like a scene out of a movie: the parent refuses to die until all of their children are assembled before them.  Waaay too surreal.  Well, if you know even just a little bit about me, you know that I don’t do “touchy-feely” and, yes – that was touchy-feely.  I had my reasons, which will come to light.  For now, amidst our tragedy . . . comic relief.

I know that in some way or another, we will all find ourselves either depending on life support or already past that point, awaiting that ride across the River Styx.  Before my time gets here, I plant to grab fifteen minutes of fame, along with about an hour more thrown in for good measure.  Now, before my fellow Christians crucify me, it goes without saying that all things that I hope for are proceeded with the phrase “God willing”, for I can only accomplish the things that God allows for me.  On the other hand, I’ve never been politically correct either – I just try to tell it like it is – without the wordplay. 

So, if – or more appropriately – when I have obtained that fame (with the extra hour), I should be filthy rich.  I hope that you’re paying attention because there will be a test later in life. All of this obligates each of you and gives you yet one more responsibility.  “How so?”, I hear you asking.  Well, believe it or not, I love you tweeple, you people, you Field Negroes (as opposed to the House Negroes), and as such, you will probably be in my will.  In fact, you WILL be in my will.  That’s where your obligation comes in.  There is a headline that you should be looking for at some point in the future.  If a particular situation should come to pass, it will probably read something like this:

“Famed writer and director blackstarr lies on life support as friends and family argue back and forth about pulling the plug or keeping him going!”

Drop whatever you’re doing and hop a “red-eye” to Philly if you have to!  Don’t you let them pull any plugs !!!  Don’t listen to what some foolish doctor has to say!!!  KEEP ME GOING FOR AS LONG AS THERE IS MONEY IN MY ACCOUNT!!!! I hear you thinking already:  Dude, that is expensive as H*ll.  Remember that by that time, I will be filthy rich.  Leave me in whatever room they put me in and have the specialist flown in everyday to check on me.  You see, the more they move me, the more the chance of a cord coming loose or some dingbat nurse plugging in things the wrong way.  And why should you care?  I told you – you’re in the will.  As long as my wishes are carried out, you all will be taken care of.

Here’s the second headline for which you should be on the lookout:

“Funeral services for blackstarr will be held . . .”

Again – stop whatever you’re doing and get back to Philly, making sure that there is no funeral, no memorial, no repast, nor anything remotely resembling any of the above.  The beautiful and dazzling woman could not have put it better: “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina!”.  I reiterate her words over and over.  Don’t cry for me.  I am but a starving artist at the moment, yet even at this point in my life, I can say that I have lived a wonderful life.  At that point in my life, you KNOW that I will have had a great time.  So please . . . shed no tears for me.

I like fire.  I like the flames that it produces.  I like the colors that it creates.  I was born on February 1st and, as a result, nearly every party that I’ve thrown in my adult life has ended up in near disaster.  I remember one year it snowed so badly that three people showed up: my girlfriend, the bartender, and me!  So, more than anything else, I like the warmth that emanates from that fire.  When I die, cremate me!  Let my a$$ burn until there is nothing left but ashes!  When it’s all over, take a trip to the west coast and scatter my ashes in the Pacific Ocean so that I can watch the sun set everyday.  No tears for the kid!

It’s important that you carry out my wishes and for good reason.  Remember first that, by that time, you’ve got big bucks coming your way.  More importantly, I don’t care if I have 500 million dollars in the bank – If there is a memorial, a burial, a funeral, any of those things that I mentioned before or anything close, all of my money will go to charity.  Just so that we are clear, let me say that one more time:  all of my money will go to charity!  I HATE that “touchy-feely” stuff! I can’t control it in anyone else’s life, but I should certainly be able to control it in my own.  Did you know that some lady left her fortune to all of her cats?  Did you know that a man in England left his money to the care of a tree in the wilderness?  You can do that, you know.

Later in life, there will be a test. By then, this blog may have long been deleted, or  may be inaccessible, or any number of untimely circustances may prevent you from re-reading this.  So, if you don’t know how, learn: copy, paste, save to file.  That way, you will have notes to look back on when the test comes, and it will be “open-book”.  Don’t be caught with the dumb-look on your face wondering “What do I do now?”   Copy, paste, save to file.

Just make sure that you shed no tears for me.  To that end, make certain that there are no services held – key word: cremation.  But if that plug is keeping me alive, do everything in your power to keep it plugged in.  Ya never know!  Peace.

freerealm@gmail.com

© 2009 freedom

“I Go To Sleep” by Sia

Death Of An Angel

Posted in relationships, social commentary with tags on December 22, 2009 by blackstarr

My wonderful, loveable mom passed last night.  No matter how much you prepare, death comes as a shock.  She wasn’t in the best of health but she got around easily and rarely ever complained about anything.  Just a few short hours before, she was wrapping up the last of her Christmas presents, laughing and passing on one of her many tales of days gone by.  We stood there in the hospital, my sister, my brother, and me, in total disbelief that our rock, our greatest love had made her way into heaven.  I miss you already, but, you’re safe now, in the hands of the Lord.  Ehrlean Baxter, I love you now and ever.  Peace.

freerealm@gmail.com freedom 2009