Heh-Heh

So I didn't edit the post below. I just wrote it.



To make it more understandable, I hope: the game of How do you feel, Mrs. Peel, at least to some part of my mind, is when you try to learn to feel as a woman by asking others (women) what they feel. The part after that is an attempt to state what I feel.



As far as "hard fragrance": seems to equal "hard lesson."

As far as "errors," that's my friends.

As far as wanting to the Goddess to be Bruce: I can't say much about that except that apparently that was and perhaps is true for me. And I'd have to say that it wasn't possible: so, given that fact, all the ground I have to stand on is the next line, "treat me like a bitch."

Sorry to end on such a crude note.

Perhaps I'll try to be a little more light and superficial. I think I actually have gone as deep as I can go.

Yours,

c*

Pater, Pater, Pumpkin Eater

I'm a gonna do with this post what I haven't been doing, and that is to edit it. I'm also going to edit the last few posts as neither the poetry nor the writing have been living up to what I expect, and I'm sure what the readers look forward to.

Parents
Pain-Prayer
Shame
Anti-Establishmentarianism
Fear and Change


Fear prevents honest communication among people. The pressure to know life as I prefer it (rather than as it is) derives from the knowledge that no one can provide happiness without asking for love in return. This quid pro quo, if you will, may seem an obvious fact of life, but to me, great difficulties have arisen in relation to asking for and giving love.

Fear that people have power to alter my destiny at their will and behest has led me to avoid allowing myself the time or the energy to accept and rejoice in the destiny I have chosen (living in this body).

There are many people who attempt, through whatever means they can find, to love and be loved, but fail because some part of them feels that they do not deserve to receive love.

Certainly this has been true for me.

The abuse of children by parents is inexcusable, particularly abuse that stems from emotional neediness on the part of the parent, attempting to recreate in the child the parent of the abuser, alternating blame or even violence with needy requests for love.

I know for myself that I have relied on my friends to provide for me parent figures to alternately depend on and blame for the condition of my life that I have feared to accept for what it is -- fear of love based on fear of a person who can only be happy by playing a big game. That game is, how do you feel, Mrs. Peel? I deny life because life is my way to sing. And I can only sing when I'm practical. Practicality needs a rose and a rose is love and beauty. Beauty needs friends, but that's the friendship of the Goddess. I want her to live. I need to know she's my angel. I'm afraid to get that hard fragrance: bravery and prayer are friendly to things that give hope -- those "errors that tried me", and I wanted her, the Goddess, to be Bruce.

Treat me like a bitch.

Be nice and be fabulous.

Yours, Julia Murray, a poison pen.

For Stonewall Saturday: The Philosophy of Science -- a lament

Are not these the goals of Science?

No devouring Mother (communal)?
No parental Sister (maternal)?
No fallopial Daughter (intellectual)?
No kind Father (prophetical)
No attractive Brother (practical)
No joyful Son (h'storical)
No assailable self (organical)

But

What genes inside you
Make love to free you
From isolation
and doubt?

Why can't an X or a Y
go back to eternity
And one cell'ed shun
all mouth(er)?

Can't solution be made
That makes it all paid
For all you to have
it out?

Alone to be someone
free from anyone
who scares you
about

What's INside:

Simply put,
the OTHER one's foot?!

***

Now pity is had
For some mothers and dad
to go around
and around;

May you find
through study and plan --
being alone:
no one can.

Now all are each other
So don't even bother
To take from you
Your self.

Can you see that
your sister's your brother
your mother's your son
and that's good for everyone?

Best wishes from me
(Emphatically)
c*

The Inside Mess

Sharing is so fruitful,
Blazing in the night;
Amazing to behold,
and craziness to fight.

The window for the Goddess
is opening to see
what hope there is for us
to soften calamity.

Perhaps you ask what else there is --
Inside you, look -- and know,
that love is there, as sure as life's aware.
SUFFICE THE CARE; YOU'VE PAID THE FARE.

Whence Hate? A DRAFT

Perhaps I worship God because He's Clear;
With Clairvoyance like a Bombardier.

So would my hate derive from certainty
That He can see eternity?

From which place I might suspect life,
in which Feelings and Desire are rife?

Does this High-Throned God want you and I
to bring about a murd'rous histor-y?

True that some who submit and pray to Him
may ask God kill, some kind of vermin:

Even those who wish to live peacefully,
Such people cannot abide lovingly.

But for that, I can accept that I
pray for SANITY.

More awful and worse is that MY will
blinds me to love and humanity:

I am bound to learn that change must come:
That inside me is the way to be at one:

Friendship means equality;
and Dreams are not for me alone,

But all who live on Earth, our home.

Freeplane Verses

Boring – the intrepid twist of shame
Crack changes Julia into Julia

A stain on her correction,
A stain on her presence.

Shaida might give a friend
Praise.

Seek praise , seek horror, seek the life of trust.


***

A fraction of pain
Treats ending for a her.

***

Jasmine B.
Anger at she

Less to more
And plea

Gangway,
I’m free!

***

Silly intruder,
You have fled
Training for parents.

You have uncovered
Mothers
For Peers.

You have stained
People
To change the home
That is bitch.

People are trying
To say that you
Need a learning whore.

Gassing randy was not
For you.

I am thanksful
I am greateful

I am surrendered to thought
And priests.

Devastation

I really need help from someone.

My mohter really threw a screwball at me and I think I'm going to move.

Any thoughts? Questioins? Advice?

Help?>>>?????