First attempt at killer imagery.

[xunpredictablel]

|Title| Untitled-
|Rating| PG13 , some nudity . lol.
|Theme| Imagery.


Forest-
Olden trees dancing with themselves, women- curves reaching up to the sun.
Freedom whispering their names in the wind.
Sand flying with the leaves.

Nymphets- their hair dark green and alive, dancing from their scalps like a plant.
-their naked bodies unashamed. Nature caresses them the same either way.
Skin glows lighter green-although paled because of the canopy.
Leaves protecting their vulnerable skin.

Magic- almost, the nymphs scream around a campfire, reveling in the touch of heat against skin.
Flame burning up the leaves, opening soil for more friendlies to sing with, the wind rushing through their hairs.
Whistling.

Taste the sacrifice of God-
His blood bringing the world alive- an IV.

Can you see him touch the nymph's soft skin? They glow from their closeness to Him.

Twinkling ringing in the air...
Soft songs with lingering voices.
Dew forming on the lips of practical angels.

Sit very still- succumb to the wilderness.

Maybe God will touch you too?

[Alicia's Ghost]

I was listening to Voice, by Celtic Woman when I first read it, and I have to say it lent a certain clarity I don't think I would have been able to get on my own. Imagery has always been one of my favored things in writing --- and I absolutely adore what you did with this. At first, I kept flashing images from the book Lolita: a smiling child, innocent streaked through with that -knowing- ability to make men look twice at them though it is a forbidden thing. It's what I got from this poem, that taboo breaking free, crumpling beneath their faith. It is more than a lifestyle for them, it's this sheer ability to exalt in their skins, to know that this visceral, (dare I even say feral?) exhibitionism is the door that links the body to the soul, a purity that is not marred by sexuality. It's the nakedness before Eve at the apple; it's the shrieking of young girls dancing around a campfire before whispers of witchcraft took hold of a small town; it's the look of Lola when she's lying flat on her belly reading a magazine in the summer sunshine, her toes crinkling, before she knows how far she could string along her lover.

The insertion of God threw me off a little, as he's usually portrayed as this stern, if loving, God, preaching modesty. Perhaps that is simply because he had once been betrayed, but that's neither here nor there. In this poem though, he, too, acts less like a doting father, and more like a lover. I feel as if he's here to exalt in their happiness, to be the voice of their dance, to be seen in the flickering heat of the flames: he's everywhere, approval as warm on the skin as the sweat that drips down their skin.

I really enjoyed the poem, for what it's worth. It's definitely a different turn for you, and for all I know, the meanings I plucked out from the images was completely wrong, but I must say that this might be one of my favorites from you.

[xunpredictablel]

Oh, I'm so glad you liked it. It was interesting... One of my friends tried to encourage me to write some more imagery and my boyfriend told me that he wanted me to write something about the forest, the trees that the sun dances, making love to them. I was interested in this, because I always imagine naked tree-girls dancing around at night, partying with the twilight and moon, magic against the humans. I feel as though nature is truly the work of God, and to be one with nature is to be one with God. He intended for us to be a certain way and this way is the way I wish to be.

Also, I view God as this spiritual being, closer to nature than to us and our interesting morals and ways. I think I view God in a very unconventional way, a way that people likely viewed the gods when they were in tribes, dancing to the rain god in order to have rain upon their crops, or the nature spirits, I view God as a lover of his people, not of a father, not as a mentor. I view Him as someone who has brought us life and is interested in how our lives will play out. I think he holds us close to him when we sleep, and I feel him within the woods when I go, I feel him in the sting of the cold, now, in the lash of thorn against my paled skin. I swear he is in nature, and I feel him little around other people, around people who likely do not feel him the way I do, especially in nature. I feel as though we are already going against him by poisoning his earth, by ignoring the trees he so lovingly placed upon the soil to flatter our eyes, bring oxygen to our lungs. I feel as though we go against him in not reveling in the nature around us. I love God through his nature, through reveling in the pleasure he gives us physically, spiritually, mentally. He truly gives us so much as humans, and I feel as though he finds revelation in our pain and pleasure and feeling. I feel like he is one with our spirits, feeling with us our love, our lives.

Anyway, that explains a lot of the poem, I think . Because I feel that way towards God.

I'm very glad you liked it. I very much enjoyed writing it, for sure.