“From the rooftops, they’ve watched the people move through these roads for generations,” I whip out the first with a flare of grandiose that is certainly not present in its original language. “Where they may have been effective at striking fear into a thief or other such wayward heart-” there’s some more embellishment “-they ultimately couldn’t save the capital from burning down thrice.” A series of backspaces delete a bitter, niche joke as I laugh quietly to myself.
“Temples would commission iron works to produce massive versions of these to be hung from the wooden structure’s central – and coincidentally largest – joist. The fearsome face would (same phrase as was used in the previous sentence), but also proved the might of the Temple to its competitors, attracting common and noble patrons alike. Though the largest of these now stands in front of (shameless self-advertisement), the second largest once hung in the great hall of (kanji I can’t read). Though the joist has since deteriorated,”
…what am I even writing in these anymore?
“records of its grandeur remain. The Onigawara was so heavy, the great cedar joist not only bent to hold it, but the entire structure folded inward at the weight of a single foot stepping into it. This phenomenon was said to be the power of divine forces peering deep into your soul, inspiring piety.”
I can smell the incense, hear the wood creek, maybe even discern some rumbled ancient Japanese that I’m mistaking for my coworkers in the moment – but I remember an old saying,
“the body is a temple,” and I add my own bit to the end of that, “that could collapse at any minute.”
Find your footing, stare it straight in the face, make time the only thing that bends your joists.
Listen to me, she says, her hands firm against my hips, as her icy breath slides from between her teeth in a rock-solid stream. Her palms are warm, her fingers cold. She eats me from the inside out.
getting married in the morning
not sure if i’m ever going to be
stable and smiling
dreams unschemed
like the promise of the times
reaching out to nights
untoward like light
twisted like a distant city
cooling, heated, wavering
if i’m ready to be whole
Matt m.
I’m living in a nice two story condo, and my income’s relatively stable. It’s not much, but it’s stable. I can always put food on the table.
I have a car that runs all right; it’s got mileage, but it’s stable. It’s not much, but it’s stable. When it comes to its job, it’s able.
I have a wife who loves me, and our marriage has been stable. It’s everything, and it’s stable. It’s the perfect fairy tale.
“From the rooftops, they’ve watched the people move through these roads for generations,” I whip out the first with a flare of grandiose that is certainly not present in its original language. “Where they may have been effective at striking fear into a thief or other such wayward heart-” there’s some more embellishment “-they ultimately couldn’t save the capital from burning down thrice.” A series of backspaces delete a bitter, niche joke as I laugh quietly to myself.
“Temples would commission iron works to produce massive versions of these to be hung from the wooden structure’s central – and coincidentally largest – joist. The fearsome face would (same phrase as was used in the previous sentence), but also proved the might of the Temple to its competitors, attracting common and noble patrons alike. Though the largest of these now stands in front of (shameless self-advertisement), the second largest once hung in the great hall of (kanji I can’t read). Though the joist has since deteriorated,”
…what am I even writing in these anymore?
“records of its grandeur remain. The Onigawara was so heavy, the great cedar joist not only bent to hold it, but the entire structure folded inward at the weight of a single foot stepping into it. This phenomenon was said to be the power of divine forces peering deep into your soul, inspiring piety.”
I can smell the incense, hear the wood creek, maybe even discern some rumbled ancient Japanese that I’m mistaking for my coworkers in the moment – but I remember an old saying,
“the body is a temple,” and I add my own bit to the end of that, “that could collapse at any minute.”
Find your footing, stare it straight in the face, make time the only thing that bends your joists.
Ugh, joists…
Listen to me, she says, her hands firm against my hips, as her icy breath slides from between her teeth in a rock-solid stream. Her palms are warm, her fingers cold. She eats me from the inside out.
getting married in the morning
not sure if i’m ever going to be
stable and smiling
dreams unschemed
like the promise of the times
reaching out to nights
untoward like light
twisted like a distant city
cooling, heated, wavering
if i’m ready to be whole
I’m living in a nice two story condo, and my income’s relatively stable. It’s not much, but it’s stable. I can always put food on the table.
I have a car that runs all right; it’s got mileage, but it’s stable. It’s not much, but it’s stable. When it comes to its job, it’s able.
I have a wife who loves me, and our marriage has been stable. It’s everything, and it’s stable. It’s the perfect fairy tale.