Third Installation to Danger Series: Hunger

Where did this piece come from:  I'm fucking starving right now.  As an individual who is very much driven by my stomach, hunger is a very dangerous thing.  For a long time I've been intrigued by the idea of the body's two hungers--the hunger for food and nourishment, and the hunger for sex, flesh, and human connection.  From seeing many folks fall into regret over eating too much cake and regret over the unnamed person in their bed, I thought it appropriate to play with this idea for the Danger series. 

There are two things I've realized in my life in regard to the two hungers:

1. Never go food shopping on an empty stomach because that leads to an empty wallet.
2. Never go to a swinger's club without having masturbated furiously before hand, so as to not let your standards dip too low because the itch is too damn strong.

Enjoy Danger (III)!

But wait?!  I haven't posted Danger (II)!  That's because it really isn't worth posting quite yet.  Keep an eye out down the road for it. 


Danger (III)

The most dangerous thing is hunger
When hunger consumes you
      your body and psyche is stretched out of proportions.

You order twelve pancakes when you can only eat three.
You sleep with a two when you deserve an eight.

So don't eat with your eyes
and don't think with your dick...

Unless you're that hungry.

Pardon the Shoddy Editing

http://vimeo.com/22153739

Oldie, but goodie?  Perhaps that was presumptuous.  

H

First Installation for Poem Series "Danger"

I'm starting a new series of poems titled "Danger".  This series will explore the dangers of the human mind and conundrums of navigating interpersonal/innerpersonal waters.

This first piece speaks on the power of desire and how it has an insidious effect to those feel that emotion.

Note that these pieces will be rough outlines and will be revisited in the future.

Love,
Hermia

Danger (I)

What is more dangerous than desire?

Desire is the heat the moves men and women to their knees to plead

with heavy lidded eyes, and bodies even

heavier with want.

Heavy with neglect.

Heavy with hopes of maybes, somedays, and just wait for it.

Desire is the sighs and shifting of bodies and smiles

burnt behind your eyelids.

It rushes blood away from your head,

leaving you bereft of reason and, at times, dignity.

Is desire the beast that needs taming, domestication, and perhaps discipline?

Or is it the only thing keeping you from completely drowning in self-deprecation?

Popping that Cherry with a Throwback Project

Where this story came from:
When I was in high school, I had to get dental work done.  This was during a period in my life when I started to believe that I would write something interesting and worth reading.  This piece came out of a lot of discomfort that is usually associated with dental work.  This piece came out of trying to stay sane through the that first world pain.

The Dentist

I don’t fear my dentist—rather, I respect her.  Though the semi-annual visits hardly warrant such respect, I respect her as a hunter respects the half-ton bear that is very capable of killing him.  Respect and fear are close kin in both:  the hunter’s and my case.

Great time was invested in the hole where tooth No. 19 once was—the void now waiting for the cap that should be made by this coming Saturday.  Six years ago my tooth was chipped resulting in a root canal in preparation for a cap to be inserted. Of course the preparation lasted longer than expected, rather than that promised week I waited six years in addition to that once week. Anticipation for the installation of a cap is like that of an impending divorce. 

This particular visit was dedicated to filing down said tooth No. 19.  The respect really starts kicking in when a needle is held a few scant inches away from my face then plunged repeatedly into my gums and other oral anatomy.  A five minute wait soon follows to let whatever numbing chemicals to set in…naturally the five minutes shrink to one.  Her flaw in time perception is obvious, but the one in the chair should never point out the—er, professional’s flaws.  Going back to the hunter analogy, you wouldn’t tell a grizzly coming out of hibernation of his massive case of bed hair.  All in good judgment, truly.

Coming back to the numb—or semi-numb state of my face, or rather oral cavity.  The suction straw was bent and hanging over my teeth on the non-numb side, the only side in which I would feel the pinching sucking powers of the device. (Though, I doubt this was a conscious act on my dentist’s part). The suction straw is never a good sign.  As the apple is an omen for temptation in the Bible, the suction straw is an omen to the many encounters with drilling devices getting really friendly with my teeth—and not necessarily with my consent.  But again, I doubt you give consent with the aforementioned grizzly going for a post hibernation nibble, which happens to be your jugular.

Consent be damned the filing began.  I saw that a mist was coming out of my numbed mouth covering my dentist with (thus far) clear liquid—which for my sanity’s sake I assumed was purely saliva and not the dust-fine filings of my number 19 tooth.  I skillfully or rather, half skillfully used my tongue, though heavy and half useless, to maneuver the sucky straw.  The sucking noise stopped and the angry bumblebee sound of the filing grew to a forte.  I am not sure which I preferred, and my pondering of preference was cut short with the clear spray turning pink and eventually red.  Ah yes, red, that tugging sensation was not the bumble-bee vying for my attention but the penetration of my gums.

By the time it came to rinse, (not sure how long that time took seeing as anything dental related had the same fluidity of time in limbo) I lost total control of the left side of my mouth and tongue.  I’m pretty dainty about gargling and spitting at the dentist’s, not so much this time.  Pink water and slush pistoned from the tiny bit of lip that refused to close.  The scene was neither dainty nor ADA approved.  The paper towels were rather helpful though.  Everything incriminating from my mouth was absorbable. Yippee for me.

I must say, God bless the brawny man. Maybe he could help me with the grizzly bear problem.