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I read an article today in the New York Times Magazine about a language called Guugau Yimithirr. The people who speak this language rely on cardinal directions "to describe the position of objects." I am using it as a metaphor for one who is lost...perhaps for someone who has lost their moral compass and asked too much of another.

Guugau Yimithirr

perhaps you lie north of my heart
but I cannot see or tell or find you
for the murky darkness obscuring ...

I wake
To mornings' stillness
And everything in its' place
Including the usual argument
That hangs like a sepulchre
Made of fog,
And the pain in your eyes
For which there is no surcease.
I wander through the day,
Thinking I must do something;
All the while knowing
That the aegean stables
Are yours to clean
When you are ready.
And then its' night
And your unhappiness
Is now a physical miasma ...

I wrote the following with ideas, words and phrases from "Harrison Bergeron," "The Scarlett letter," and "The Most Dangerous Game." I've always loved the name Diana Moon Glompers.

Diana Moon Glompers
was an incomparable beauty
who once came to a crossroads
and chose the one,
that was in the west,
a bloody red

and in the name of equality she
wielded her weapon in favor
of the dull, the average, ...

the freighter lists
like a drunken girl
wearing only a petticoat, who,
with one eye closed,
does not see the danger

that with brutish hands
makes his way onto the deck
and with the casual swipe of his paw
undresses her-
what a pretty target she has made-
and takes
what isn't his
as though it is

The screams have died,
And the boat lies still;
out on the ocean's swell no laws of ...

I was talking with my son recently when the collar of his shirt moved and I saw that he had a tatoo on his chest. Another tatoo!

Now I have to admit that I am not a fan of the tatoo. I know they are popular these days, much to my chagrin. And to those of you here on Lit-Net who are decorated in this fashion, this is not directed at you or about you. I like your tatoos, just fine. But they are not for me, and I have to say, I wish they were not for my sons. But they love them and would, ...