Day: May 5, 2005

Glass Angels

No need to worry; I’m not obsessed with angels. To me, the Celestine Prophecy sounds like a bad plot device for any number of fantasy novels – and the five people I meet in heaven will likely be wondering how I escaped hell.

That said, I do find angels to be a useful metaphor. Starting with this poem, and going for about four years after it (putting me a year or so out of college), I used poetry to explore what it means to be human. If ‘animal’ is our baser side, then ‘angel’ is what seperates us from the other creatures. What is it that makes us different from other mammals? Is our love purer? Or needs greater? Is it self-awareness and an opposable thumb? More then that, why do we struggle so hard between our base desires (such as procreation) and our need to be…civilized (however each culture defines it)?

This poem was the beginning of my thoughts on this – although it is just barely hinted at here. This was the start of my new writing. It made me write into places I had thought too dark to see into.

It? She. I wrote this for her. And this post is dedicated to her.

***

Fragile eyes, weeping urns
whose only tear
is found in the heart

glass angels kneel
and weep because you failed
to make them out of steel

I can see in them all the imperfections
and yet they are truly
Angels

and so few of us can make angels

Subversive Text

Submission is not a weakness.

Submission for pleasure or release is not a character flaw. To be very clear – submitting to unwanted or unwarranted physical or emotional abuse is not the same. But that is not Submission. In the Submission I speak of, spankings are used to create physical pleasure and (or) introduction to a zone for my partner to descend into – and words are used to disarm, distract, and direct.

So what is Submission? A gift. A trust. A promise. A sacrifice. A hunger. A moment. A place inside. A spiritual awakening. A fucking. It is freedom, hope, desire, and potential. It is found in restraint, in humiliation, in love, in a glance, in a word, in giving it up and in accepting it all. It is on all fours, on knees, on a four-poster bed tied and helpless, on a desk bent over and exposed, and on the passenger’s seat of a car blindfolded and waiting. It is part of a greater whole, defining while not constraining. It pervades. It demands. It begs. It is.

Embrace it. Accept it. Most of all – enjoy it.