Prose; Fact or Fiction


hiking-slovenian-mountain-trail-julian-alps

There are two paths leading up to the summit on the mountain.

The mountain is the universe of Mind, Heart, and Knowledge.

The scales of justice, held by blindfolded Athena have innocuously, with no offense, decided that fiction is just a fact told yesterday or… planning to be told in the future.

The only fact is right now, no, right now, no wait. Ok…NOW!

It’s an eternal chase with each in-breath and out-breath, but the final breath happens where both paths meet at the top.

Breathing ends with the fact of death and time claims fiction.

Prose; Why Can’t I See You?


 

ocean waves

I’m behind a screen.

It’s a beautiful, sapphire screen for some reason with geometric shapes all over it gleaming like a wet, rolling, tumultuous ocean.

The wind is so brisk it’s almost cold and my hair won’t stay off my face.

Why am I still alone standing on this beach?

Why do you want me to stay behind this screen?

I’ve never heard of a friend being afraid to meet a friend. Or is there a fertile seed germinating in you that I’m watering? I’m just guessing, not assuming.

You didn’t know it was there.

Keep the seed in the dark behind that screen so it won’t sprout.

All I can hear is the roar of the gleaming, wet, ocean.

Prose; Liquid Saturday


I roll around in my warm bed by myself like a dulcet silken bag of potential poetry spoken into an imaginary lovers ear. Or I could sing to him. I haven’t had that opportunity yet.

woman-in-water

I’m happy…really. It’s abundant, nurturing, warm, and close to the earth.

I find the peacefulness of being by myself in a relationship with myself to be magical. I can surf the waves of words that sit below my navel and bring them up into my stomach to digest with my breakfast, then into my heart where my son, cute animals and gentle firemen reside and express it through the voice in my fingers.

Put me on a secure raft in some warm tropical waters and that’s where I am.

Sure, I have to cook, chew my food, do the dishes and take out the trash, but that is atmospheric seasoning to where my percipience is really focused.

My perception is in my body which is still feeling the dream I had last night like a crab secure in its loose-fitting, restful shell.

Only the inspiration of a local tree could suggest I stand up and walk out the door made from it’s relation. The trees get used and splintered for our delight with the fantasy of solid things. My world is really liquid, empty space full of potential.

Prose; Spiralling Paradox


Image

The gravity of each individual Mind pulls us and keeps us in the body, giving off a specific gift, look, flavor, color, and feel.

Individual cells dance with electromagnetic charge set in motion by our feelings and thoughts.

Complete…we can co-create just as we are right now.

Yet gravity still makes us spiral as One toward The Center, all touching and affecting each other.

It’s a paradox.

We are individuals yet we are One.

 

Essay; Intimacy and Intuition


Private & Passionate Prose-Cover jpg

Intimacy means feelings and bonding with sex. It’s true friendship, not territory, ownership, or marriage necessarily.  I have a feeling men would say sex is intimacy because that’s as far as most of them go. Sex IS their feeling like hunger IS their feeling and for them, it is deep and significant. Anything physical is very emotional for men; like being sick or succeeding in a sport or having a lot of money. They love “things” and have emotions about “things”. They freak out like a little kid and women make fun of them too much regarding those things. Women all know this but not all women are loving and patient about it. Women view bonding and relationship as transcendent over the physical. It’s spiritual for us.

I’ve decided that I’m tired of acting so detached with men (mimicking them!) when the truth is, I do have feelings. I’m a girl! I’m sick of feeling like I have to act like a guy or a hook-up prostitute to get any attention or bonding with a man. Or maybe I don’t want the bonding then! The promiscuity with women, the super-rationality and denial of emotion, the negative feelings about their mother and the resistance to real intimacy with a woman is a turn-off to me. Comments like, “I can’t live with a woman.”, “I don’t have relationships with women.” No heterosexual man has ever said things like that to me but that’s what I’m hearing lately from men who profess to be straight. Are they straight or do they really prefer someone like themselves; another man? There is no way they could love a woman?

Straight guys actively pursue a woman they’re attracted to, get to know her in person, want to have sex with her and see where it goes from there! You know a guy wants you when they contact you and want to “be in touch”. If they don’t, they don’t want you.

There is a little conundrum here for me. Women need physical confirmation of attraction, in person, before we invest more time and communication with a certain fellow. That’s what women need. I’ve heard men say they don’t. I don’t believe it but there is something handy about one step removed I suppose. I think it’s odd.

One thing Zoosk has taught me is that meeting a guy on social media and in-person are night and day. I’m done with that now because none of the men are very happy. I have to date a man before it progresses any further and feel a friendship there. End of story. And any man who expects sex on the first date is not interested in loving a woman at least as a friend. He must demonstrate it or he is not capable of it in which case, this woman will never have sex with him.

It’s pretty simple for me. I’m literally not turned on if there is no affinity, no warmth, no sincere affection, no love. Women are super intuitive with regard to the truth about a guy’s real feelings so there is no worry. If he has no feelings, neither do I and for me, that means no sex. The only way a guy can get around that is if he finds a woman willing to deny herself, her core, and her needs which unfortunately is all too easy these days.

I’m Turning My Six Years of Posts Into Books


books

Heads up to my followers. I’ve added a new tab on the far right to my Homepage;

Purchase Lisa’s Books

I will be creating books titled;

  1. Everyday Intuition
  2. Heartset as the Foundation for Mindset
  3. Re-Program Your Subconscious Mind
  4. Everyday Spirituality
  5. Balanced, Honest Sexuality
  6. Another Book of Prose
  7. Body Truth

You will see my posts disappearing one by one and then the collection of posts plus practical help will be added to the tab on the right for purchase.

I will also add an erotic thriller that does a take on NATURE as erotic, not necessarily women and men f*ing, as though we don’t already know what that’s about. I’m seeing more of the porn-type writing and prose on here and…well… I think I have a different idea, of course. I am following those blogs though to see if they keep the writing quality up and not just their genitalia. We’ll see. I know people, including myself, like passionate emotions and sensuous words so I’m going to play with that! Stay tuned.

 

Prose; I Make My Bed


 

Woman-making-bed

I make my bed as though someone other than me might want to lay on it to relax…

Doubtful.

Fans, fanatics, stalkers, jealous husbands, jealous siblings, errant preachers, starry-eyed parents, and students all seeking some higher bedding more like a cloud…nothing low to ground where I am.

Doubtful.
It’s so…fake.

“THIS is who you are”. “THIS is who you are”…”This is who you are” rings the cacophony.

I am not going to spend my last breath, defying all of you because you are surface dwellers; American Idol, Desperate Housewives watchers. Fantasy. I hate TV.

I’m glad my son can cry and be tired. It means he’s human. That’s all there is.

I’m glad I can kick my ex out of the house for insulting my talent. It means I’m human.
All I have is myself and time…

Let me divorce all that is not calm and in balance.
Ring out the true madness that jumps up…to lightness.
Jumps up…to levity
Jumps up…to where gravity is turned upside down.
My feet are my head. Who cares? Must we always walk?

I want to live in a dimension where upon meeting someone I like, I kiss them with ridiculous abandon.

©Lisa Townsend-2011


	

Prose; Elemental Woman


 

sisters__fire_and_ice_by_woltadesign_d742rs0-preFire and Ice

Woman… fire in chains walking through mans’ ice storm.

There is barely anywhere for us to rest on pliable earth, caressed by dew-kissed grass and flowers and visited by genial insects and creatures.

Man is a covetous, territorial beast, contemplating a meal, food for his belly, something to drink, and metal coins, hardware and paper and food from the earth; animals and fruit. They come from her blistering fires too from which he creates.

He craves the warmth of her fire that never dulls and memory of the Sun before the ice came to steal human souls.

Suspicious of her, he does not understand nor can he control her unless…he loves. Her fire can melt or burn and he only steals some warmth for a short time.

A man who loves is a magnificent animal, one that knows no limits and has unbounded strength. He has the strength of the earth, turned from ice and the sun combined because he is the seed willing to lose its cover in order to allow Life.

He willingly takes her to him, feasts, shares, adores and provides a safe place for her fertile ground to grow the eternal seeds she holds from before the time of The Dragon. She holds them still.

But he cannot stay next to her for long or he will melt.

He tries and survival beckons his traverse, summoned by a great dirge of possible conquest and the illusions of mind and heart that he believes are real because his core does not yet burn with equable insight.

Frozen, halcyon outsight of a gelid wasteland is still his birthright.

The feracious earth was given to her as a prolific garden and she waits yet for his icy heart to warm the arable soil for her so she can grow the fruit of breakable man in virile beauty, not in frozen, acrid death and blood.

He is…breakable because he is mortal! The seed must be broken in the soil to become eternal!

She is still in unyielding chains, unloved, unprotected, terribly alone in her vital fire that cannot be momentarily extinguished.

The Sun gave birth to the earth, to ice, to Time and its incessant movement will not cease.

The erudite Magician has given him the wand with which to channel her calescent magic because her heat increases.

Time must move forward but the dextrous tools of man can only thrive if they are forged with the luminosity of her body, to tend the garden of the Earth.

It may lie fallow and untended unless the fire that man discovered can be born in him by tending to her heat. Then he will remain.

Until then he will die, just as he was born.

Lisa Townsend-written on February 17, 2018

 

 

Prose; If We’re Not Thinking in Dreams…


earth magnetic portals - hidden

They know by studying the brain that we are not “thinking” while we sleep.

If I’m not thinking, then where are the people, places, voices, words, events, and feelings coming from? It’s not exactly like watching a movie; it’s more like an opaque, frenetic cloud that’s really alive.

I’m free in my dreams to sit back or join in, to interact or be quiet without judgment. Waking life is a dream for me. All day, while I’m “awake”, I’m trying to go back to my dream state to remember how I felt, who I saw, and what happened. It feels like there is a whole other life full of etheric information for me there. Waking life feels like just a resonance is a type of magnetic can; the kind you string together.

Where did I go? I know it was a good place because it affects my day, depending on where I went that night.

I’m not saying I don’t like it here, or earth, but the other side does beckon somehow. I’m a bit glad of that for when my body is worn to a frazzle at one-hundred years old, my work is done, and I’ve had the best damn orgasm I can possibly have with someone I love, it will be easy to drift off and say, “My work here is done.  I’m out.”  My senses and my body still want to drink in all that earth has to offer though, right now.

Earth is fabulous, no matter how hard it can get here.