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Pastimes : Calling all SI Poets -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: MSB who wrote (1769)	5/27/1999 11:43:00 PM
From: Susan Saline	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2095

GOD'S MESSAGE TO WOMEN When I created the heavens and the earth, I spoke them into being. When I created man I formed him and breathed life into his nostrils. But you, woman, I fashioned. I breathed the breath of life into man because your nostrils are too delicate. I allowed a deep sleep to come over him so I could patiently and perfectly fashion you. Man was put to sleep so that he could not interfere with the creativity. From one bone I fashioned you. I chose the bone that protects man's life. I chose the strong yet delicate rib, which protects his heart and lungs and supports him, as you are meant to do. Your characteristics are as the rib, strong yet delicate and fragile. You provide protection for the most delicate organs in man, his heart and lungs. His heart is the center of his whole being, his lungs hold the breath of life. The rib cage will allow itself to be broken before it will allow damage to his heart and lungs. Support him as the rib cage supports the body. Around this one bone I fashioned you. I shaped you. I created you perfect. Your eyes, don't change them. Your lips, how lovely when they part in prayer. Your nose, so perfect in form. Your hands, so gentle to touch. Oh yes I've touched your hands. I've held your heart. Of all that lives and breathes you are the most like me. That is why I made you the mother of life. You see, you, woman, reside in me. Adam walked with me in the cool of the day and yet he was lonely. He could not see me, or touch me. He could only feel me. So everything I wanted Adam to share and experience with me I fashioned in you. My holiness, my strength, my purity, my love, my protection and support. You are special because you are the extension of me. Man represents my image, woman, my emotions. Together you represent the totality of God. So, man, treat woman well. Love her, respect her for she is fragile. In hurting her, you hurt me. What you do to her, you do to me. In crushing her you only damage your own heart and lungs. Woman, support man as the rib cage. In humility, show him the power of emotion I have given to you. In gentle quietness show your strength. In love, show him that you are the rib that protects his inner self. Author unknown

To: MSB who wrote (1769)	5/28/1999 12:45:00 AM
From: Volsi Mimir	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 2095

I like birds. (but thats none of your business) <VBG> my particular favorite word---- passion..... its the degree of emotion that we place in our lives that makes us viable, caring ,inquisitive sometimes good and bad...... the complexity of our nature --- the shades and hues we create... simple things like that. but that changes, eh? MSB- gone with style- Sunshine, how bright you are Thank you for your warmth today Take me with you when you leave, good-bye. good-bye.

To: MSB who wrote (1769)	6/6/1999 10:54:00 PM
From: jpmac	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 2095

MSB.. your post caught me offguard. I said nothing because I had no idea what to say. "Seeya" didn't seem adequate. I don't know if you'll log into to read, but if you do here's the last bit of a short story... He'd turned that day before getting into his car. "You're a writer. Write a song for me someday, okay? Make me immortal." He winked, got in and drove away. Today was his twentieth birthday. I stared at the water and sang tunelessly under my breath, "Johnny Reb is dead. Put a bullet in his head." Someday, maybe, I'd write a song that did right by the golden child that swung above the river hanging from a faded, frayed rope. Swung back and forth until he arced as high as possible. Then letting go, fell through the air, and with a wild yell hit the water, flinging sprays of sunlit drops as his blond, grinning face disappeared.

To: MSB who wrote (1769)	12/29/1999 10:22:00 PM
From: gypsy	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 2095

Mike, it's somehow strangely liberating to remember warmer, stickier days, don't you think? Cinnamon Bread I think of you while I make this bread. The ingredients in the bowl, the thoughts in my mind, blending in perfect amounts with fond movements... The dough, adhering to my hands, being part of me, is like feeling you, without wanting to be free, concentrating my thoughts on this romantic work that now lies dormant, in a ritual of waiting. The raising, then the baking, bring scents of cinnamon spreading, trespassing the last crumb, filling the house for days, but comes to me like your presence that I feel following my paths, keeping me company, inviting me to breathe you deeply. Rosa Clement Lest you forget! :) ze gyp