akuneko designs
fair warning…rant…diatribe…general pissiness…contained within…

*insert heavy sigh here*….the christmas season…..in and of itself…not an entirely bad thing……no…wait….let me rewind….pretend that i am only just beginning and this is the preface to all that will come after………..i have an allergy…well…an intolerance actually….to cedar……..an emergency room visit, heavy steroid shot…mega benadryl shot……enough benadryl pills afterwards to keep me rather comatose for about a week….intolerance to cedar…….the pollen, the sap, the resin…..anything made from any part of said cedar tree…..by the way….did you know that spirit gum..that lovely nasty sticky glue used to attach appliances at halloween…is made from cedar resin?? i didn’t……not until the next morning….which turned into a week of a real-life halloween mask of a face……but i digress…..the christmas season…where one of the major components of floral arrangements…is cedar…..other assorted evergreens (which i am strangely not adversely affected by) are also used…and have i mentioned as of yet that my “pays the bills job” is as a florist??  i hadn’t? well now i have…….so yes….the shop i work for has so graciously decided to abstain from the use of cedar so that i can work the month of december….and yet i have had to hear….many times….how having cedar to work with in addition to the other evergreens would be so nice……..it has been said in a half-joking manner…but i am frankly damned tired of hearing it and it isn’t even december yet……..my reply is always the same…..”i could just go home so you can use cedar you know”……….which is always met with a resounding…”no….you can’t….i don’t need it that badly”…..*insert another sigh here*….to which i so very much want to reply….”then shut the hell up about it already!”…………..blech……this isn’t helping…i have no ebb and flow…..thoughts are jumbled and disjointed………falling onto the page in heaps and piles….not the swirls and whorls that ease the psyche……………time to

stop

suitable warning…pure self-indulgent babble contained within

warning duly posted…for those that follow me …(.though the gods only know why one would….i rarely post…and when i do it is usually a block of text oh so rudely interrupting the steady flow of photographic eye-candy)….so forging onward…i had a dream…one rather unusual for me as it contained a celebrity….one talented…Amazing…Samurai Guitarist…..an odd dream…that has wandered into my thoughts randomly throughout the day…so??….here i am…exorcising my mind….and before you think it..(or perhaps after…in which case…so sorry in advance to disappoint)…there was nary a whit of even sexual innuendo contained…it began at…not a concert…more along the lines of the fan club birthday lives…but most definitely not happening in japan…it was somewhere localish to me…..a smallish rather intimate grouping.(actually putting deeper thought into it…the place resembled the movie theatre downstairs in New People in San Francisco)…and the performance part was apparently over….it was moving into a sort of a question/answer bit….although it was really more just a natural flow of conversation between people….discussing dreams….goals…..it was mostly background noise…even whatever i was speaking to him about wasn’t clear….but he was walking down the rows in front of everyone….we were all seated in something akin to theatre seats…reaching out…touching hands….but when he got to me…he stopped walking…and caught hold of both my hands….gazing at me with the oddest look…and a brilliantly beaming smile….still talking to everyone…but not moving further down the line…while he was talking…sometimes he would stop…as though searching for the right word (everything was in english by the way) and he would look down at me as though he expected me to supply him with whatever word or phrase seemed to be dancing out of his reach….which quite willingly did…at one point he let go of one of my hands…and flexed the fingers of his free hand….as though they were stiff…or sore from playing the guitar…it felt quite natural to me to catch hold of that hand and begin massaging it and his wrist…something i would have done for any guitarist friend who had played for too long…..the…whatever type of “event” it was….came to an end…and people began to get up to leave….i however….was really in no position to leave…as for some reason utterly unfathomable to me….i had apparently been accepted as part of the entourage….i was again gifted with that brilliant smile…and he thanked be for my help…both with the english…and the impromptu massage of hands and wrists….at which point the metaphorical light bulb came on above his head and he declared that i must accompany them throughout rest of the tour….to help with his english…keep his hands and wrists from hurting….and whatever else that i might be able to do………he also told me that if my husband wasn’t comfortable with me going alone…he could come along also and help with the stage setups…..the last thing that happened before i woke up was calling my work from the tour bus to tell them i was going to take a month off to finish out a tour with Miyavi….and watching my husband and Spike in deep conversation about stage lighting…..*

……now some might ask themselves….”is there some deep hidden meaning in this dream??….what does it symbolise??”….me??…i know exactly what it means….i was watching the Neo Tokyo Samurai Black DVD when i fell asleep….i work in a flower shop….the mother’s day rush has begun…we’re the only shop in town that is taking corsage orders for the prom (for 3 high schools) that is this Saturday….and we’re at least 2 people less working that should be…..i want a vacation….and going on tour with Miyavi….that would be a helluva fun vacation………..

and…with that out of my system…..we now return you to your regularly scheduled eye-candy posts…..

false alarm…..the bullet has been dodged…..this time
fair warning…….diatribe forthcoming…..

sleeping…..i should be sleeping…..but i have this nagging urge to write….perhaps not entirely coherently….although some may argue that my writing is not ever entirely coherent….so perhaps we shall preface with a warning…an explanation of sorts….think of it as a type of secret decoder ring………..i write like i speak….like i think….everything is connected….everything circles around….and around….and around….and comes back eventually to the beginning…or the original idea…it may be confusing…or perhaps not….maybe you will learn something…about me….about yourself….about something i love…or hate….but does it matter in the end? really?

i thought…..no….nevermind….because what i thought….has apparently decided to retreat back into whatever dark little corners ideas and thoughts hide when they decide to be elusive…….so perhaps i shall simply leave it at this….post this bit of drivel…..let it loose to pollute my tiny corner of the internet….let it loose to choose whether it will remain as a half-formed incoherent urge….slipping from shadow to shadow….never quite seen…but always there….just at the corner of consciousness….

sleep….that’s what i think i shall attempt……

wicked dreams*

fair warning…..diatribe forthcoming

whats your fav miyavi song?? XD

hmm….tough question….can’t narrow it down to just one so…in no particular order…how about….top 3?   Shelter……Universe…..and Wonderful Future (that one cuz i’m going to use it as a lullaby for my brand new niece….grooming for becoming Co-Miyavi from birth)

Reblog, if you’re a MIYAVI fan.

hrm….anonymous “asks” have been disabled, truthfully not that i’m worried about what someone might say, i’m not a fragile petal who can’t deal with potential problems…but for the simple fact that if you’re going to post something….or ask something…do it as yourself…….if you’re so afraid or ashamed of what you want to ask or say that you want to hide behind “anonymous”…you really might want to examine your motives a little closer….self-responsibility…it’s a good thing

Miyavi changed his style and genre of music many times (so far he was doing metal, hard rock, then pop rock, pop, then RnB and now rap). Some people just can't connect themselves with his new songs and miss the "old Miyavi" in terms that they like what he was doing in the past more than what he is doing now. They just feel nostalgic. What is bad about it? Please stop complaining, you can't understand it now, but maybe one day you will feel the same nostalgy and miss the old times of some band!!!
Anonymous

judging by what you’ve written, you didn’t actually read what i wrote, i said that it isn’t the people who are simply being nostalgic that are irksome it is the people that are flat out saying things should never have changed, that he should put piercings back in, start wearing the same clothing that he did several years ago and play the same type of music. i also said that it is unrealistic for a person to expect to like everything that an artist comes out with.  your last line really struck me as funny…perhaps i am misreading it, or reading more into it than was actually meant, but it very much sounds like you are making the assumption that i am not old enough to be in the position of feeling nostalgia over a band, trust me, i’ve been actively listening to music for over 40 years, most of the bands that i might possibly have any nostalgic feelings for…aren’t around any more, and to be perfectly honest i have absolutely no desire to go see some of the ones that are still around for the simple fact that they have stagnated and remain unchanged, and believe me, a 60 year old man is not as good at that music they played in the 70’s or 80’s as he was when he was in his 20’s.

so yes, i agree, being nostalgic is fine, if you realise that human beings….all human beings….need to change, grow and evolve….you may not like the things that happen on that path, but that’s alright because every person does not move in the same direction, if they did they wouldn’t be individuals, and individuality and diversity is what keeps the human race going….

I wish I were close

To you as the wet skirt of

A salt girl to her body.

I think of you always.

*akahito

Love’s Acolyte

 

Many have loved you with lips and fingers
And lain with you till the moon went out;
Many have brought you lover’s gifts!
And some have left their dreams on your doorstep.

But I who am youth among your lovers
Come like an acolyte to worship,
My thirsting blood restrained by reverence,
My heart a wordless prayer.

The candles of desire are lighted,
I bow my head, afraid before you,
A mendicant who craves your bounty
Ashamed of what small gifts she brings.

elsa gidlow

You

 

I love your throat, so fragrant, fair,
The little pulses beating there;
Your eye-brows’ shy and questioning air;
I love your shadowed hair.

I love your flame-touched ivory skin;
Your little fingers frail and thin;
Your dimple creeping out and in;
I love your pointed chin.

I love the way you move, you rise;
Your fluttering gestures, just-caught cries;
I am not sane, I am not wise,
God! how I love your eyes!

angelina weld grimke

The Great Hunt

 
I cannot tell you now;
When the wind´s drive and whirl
Blow me along no longer,
And the wind´s a whisper at last—
Maybe I´ll tell you then—
some other time.
When the rose´s flash to the sunset
Reels to the rack and the twist,
And the rose is a red bygone,
When the face I love is going
And the gate to the end shall clang,
And it´s no use to beckon or say, “So long”—
Maybe I´ll tell you then—
some other time.
I never knew any more beautiful than you:
I have hunted you under my thoughts,
I have broken down under the wind
And into the roses looking for you.
I shall never find any
…greater than you.

*Carl Sandburg

For the Goddess Too Well Known

I have robbed the garrulous streets,
Thieved a fair girl from their blight,
I have stolen her for a sacrifice
That I shall make to this night.


I have brought her, laughing,
To my quietly dreaming garden.
For what will be done there I ask no man pardon.


I brush the rouge from her cheeks,
Clean the black kohl from the rims Of her eyes;
loose her hair; Uncover the glimmering, shy limbs.


I break wild roses, scatter them over her.
The thorns between us sting like love´s pain.
Her flesh, bitter and salt to my tongue,
I taste with endless kisses and taste again.


At dawn I leave her Asleep in my wakening garden.


(For what was done there I ask no man pardon.)





Elsa Gidlow