The Lone Cypress
Information
| Blog Name: | The Lone Cypress |
| Url: | http://www.thelonecypress.blogspot.com |
| Language: | English |
| Topics: | WRITING, NONFICTION, FICTION |
| Description: | The Lone Cypress is a tree clinging to rock over the Pacific Ocean. I first visited the Lone Cypress on my 13th birthday and have been back twice to see it. It resides in Carmel-By-The-Sea and the panorama is heart stopping where you have to remind yourself to breathe. The Lone Cypress is used to create a dialogue with other people (that's you) through my writing. |
| Popularity: | 46 Followers |
Selected Content
Blog Feed
Untitled 'haibun'
Salt shoots up my nose, ferried by the wind. Blasts of air, not sparing in their rhythm crawl over my skin and I pain for water. Untrammelled waves crush any sand that lays crumbling on the beach. I see the man I was with last night - a half-smoked cigarette cocked in his mouth.He is still - kind of like he's stranded and doesn't know where to go; not sure about how to stamp one foot in front of the other, or even how to breathe. The cigarette recedes to his lips and he spits it onto the sand. I don't know who he is.I walk to the bedroom, see the sheets and remember, nodding at the colours that have seeped through to the mattress. Worry abates, curiosity turns my lip
Salt shoots up my nose, ferried by the wind. Blasts of air, not sparing in their rhythm crawl over my skin and I pain for water. Untrammelled waves crush any sand that lays crumbling on the beach. I see the man I was with last night - a half-smoked cigarette cocked in his mouth.He is still - kind of like he's stranded and doesn't know where to go; not sure about how to stamp one foot in front of the other, or even how to breathe. The cigarette recedes to his lips and he spits it onto the sand. I don't know who he is.I walk to the bedroom, see the sheets and remember, nodding at the colours that have seeped through to the mattress. Worry abates, curiosity turns my lip
5.9.09
1.50pm @ Tallebudgera surf club (yes, I know - what. the. fuck.)My day has been punctuated by sex. I've lingered on it too long; my tongue is sensitive and nerves sting when it brushes the roof of my mouth. Every appealing man is fair game, be they married, in a partnership, of age or otherwise. Even unappealing men; thicker, bearded, old, rough.Sex.I have grand designs of a penis puncturing my vagina. That - today, right now - is all I can think about. I want to be touched; I want someone to spread my legs, someone to push and spill into me so as create some sort of cheap mess.Will I be able to eat my lunch? Fucking salmon.
1.50pm @ Tallebudgera surf club (yes, I know - what. the. fuck.)My day has been punctuated by sex. I've lingered on it too long; my tongue is sensitive and nerves sting when it brushes the roof of my mouth. Every appealing man is fair game, be they married, in a partnership, of age or otherwise. Even unappealing men; thicker, bearded, old, rough.Sex.I have grand designs of a penis puncturing my vagina. That - today, right now - is all I can think about. I want to be touched; I want someone to spread my legs, someone to push and spill into me so as create some sort of cheap mess.Will I be able to eat my lunch? Fucking salmon.
Followers
This blog has 46 followers.
Visit the
blog page on Facebook
to see who's following this blog.
Questions? contact: networkedblogs@ninua.com
Copyright (C) 2008, Ninua, Inc.