Archive for the ‘Poetry and Lyrics’ Tag

Spirit of the Earth

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(Details to be updated later….)

Behold the Spirit….

Thoughts Of a Supermodel Waiting For the Shoot To Start

Okay, whenever you're ready

Okay, how long’s it gonna be this time?
The freakin’ genius there has to get things
Ju-uuu-ust right
Before he’ll shoot a single freakin’ frame
Twitching the lights ten times
And moving them about an inch total
Adjusting the backdrop curtains
Getting the right amount of smoke in the air
And then deciding to do it all again!
While I’m sitting here, sewn into this corset of a dress
Cutting off the blood flow to my boobs
Wrinkles welding into my face from the boredom
My ass aching from sitting on a suitcase
And trying to decide what to cancel

I got a facial at noon instead of lunch
An hour with my therapist after that
(Which I’ll need after this jerk gets done!)
My agent wants his cut
Of the pennies I’ll get from this job
How far does he think only 500 grand can be spread??
And an hour or two at the gym
Killing myself to keep in shape
So I can do more sitting on my ass
Waiting for more geniuses to get their shot set up

I’d kill for a drink right now
’Cept the court’ll throw me in the slam
If they catch me crocked one more time
Not to mention the damn vultures in the street
Who don’t pay a dime to take my picture
Creaming themselves to catch me out
Like Lindsay after a party

Why did I decide to do this again…?
Oh, yeah
The glamour
The clothes
The money
The fame and excitement
The cover of Vogue
Lunches with Anna and Andre
Air kisses with Linda and Christie
Nights with Tom when he’s between wives
The clothes
The money

But I swear, five more minutes
and I’ll kick his —
Oh, you’re ready? Okay, darling, I’m coming.
(About freakin’ time!)

Harper Ganesvoort, 2013



Ozymandia 6

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

  • Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Ozymandias”

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The details:

  • Skin: Wunderlichs Heavy Metal Skin (gold)
  • Hair: Hairoin Diva (Abyss)
  • Eyes: Sterling Artistry Jeweled Eyes (bright blue)
  • Gown: Tres Beau Miss Vivienne
  • Shoes: R2 Aulii
  • Gloves: 5th & Oxford Leather Gloves (no longer available)
  • Jewelry: Mashooka Designs bindi (royal gold); EarthStones Pave Set Pearl Bracelet (black/gold); Finesmith Chamonix Bracelet (gold/white); Mandala Kabuki necklace (Gotama, gold); LaGyo Atratus ring (gold); LaGyo Magnitudo earrings; LaGyo Shield rings (gold/black); LaGyo Solemne bangle (gold); Muse Catherine cocktail ring (black pearl/gold; no longer available)
  • Makeup: White~Widow Magic Wand (gold); Glamorize Dirty Babe Lipstick (Black Beauty); *BOOM* Liquid Glaze (lashed, black); Dead Apples Wet Look eyeshadow (black); White~Widow Paradise (gold); [the oBscene] Artemis Lashes

Photographed at Hathor’s Homeworld, Palm Tree Bay region (adult; pyramid no longer in existence)
See my Flickr or Koinup streams for full-size pictures.


The Wastelands

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

T. S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

Photographed at The Great Fissure.

The Winter Queen

What’s winter without at least one appearance of the Empress of the Snows? This version takes the wonderful gown that Tres Beau created for Sazzy Oh for Miss Virtual World 2012, and changes things around some. I left off the headdress (which drops snowflakes all around in the store version), and substituted more “ice” in the form of diamond and silver jewelry.

Every winter,
When the great sun has turned his face away,
The earth goes down into a vale of grief,
And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables,
Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay –
Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.

— Charles Kingsley, Saint’s Tragedy (act III, sc. 1)

More cool quotes and photos after the break….

Some Thoughts On Butterflies

Moss covered paths between scarlet peonies,
Pale jade mountains fill your rustic windows.
I envy you, drunk with flowers,
Butterflies swirling in your dreams.
— Ch’ien Ch’i, translated by Kenneth Rexroth


It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,
And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry
There is more unmixed color on the wing
Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry.

But these are flowers that fly and all but sing:
And now from having ridden out desire
They lie closed over in the wind and cling
Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.
— Robert Frost, “Blue-Butterfly Day”


Gray sail against the sky,
Gray butterfly!
Have you a dream for going.
Or are you the blind wind’s blowing?
— Dana Burnet, “A Sail at Twilight”


…Don’t you see

That we are worms, whose insignificance
Lives but to form the angelic butterfly
That flits to judgement naked of defence?
— Dante, The Divine Comedy: Purgatory, Canto X (Sayers translation)


The details:

WindLight setting: Torley’s Albedo 0.39

Poses by Gesticulate and Paper Couture

Photographed at 0 0 Auspicious region

Kahlil Gibran

Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn onto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth.

And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld the ship coming with the mist.

Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul.

But he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart:

How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.

Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?…

…Then a woman said, “Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.”

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall….

                    — Kahlil Gibran

                    The Prophet:  “The Coming of the Ship” and “Joy and Sorrow”

Gibran was born on this day in 1883, and this article is dedicated to his memory, evergreen since the publication of perhaps his greatest work in 1923.

Château de la Lune

Come when the nights are bright with stars
Or come when the moon is mellow;
Come when the sun his golden bars
Drops on the hay-field yellow.
Come in the twilight soft and gray,
Come in the night or come in the day,
Come, O love, whene’er you may,
And you are welcome, welcome.

— From Invitation to Love by Paul Laurence Dunbar


Darkness falls about me again
As I sit and gaze down the road.
How many days since you left?
How many lifetimes since you closed our gate,
Promising that soon you’d be home again?

But a handful of days, I’m told,
As if I hadn’t known.
But oh, how long those few suns and moons seem
Without the sight of your face,
The warmth of your brown eyes,
And the touch of your hand upon my flesh.

I won’t weep, I tell myself;
I will be patient.
You have gone before,
And have always returned.
But, gods of my mothers,
Without you, all is so empty.

Our lives have changed so
Since our first long-ago summer.
Now I wait garbed in silks and jewels,
A marble bench my couch instead of a wooden stool,
Servants to obey me, instead of my own labor and sweat.
One thing alone has not changed —
I would put all this aside
To see your dear face,
Or to lay beside you at night,
The grass and flowers our cushion,
The stars our counterpane,
And your sweet body my coverlet.

What awaits you this time
On the road you travel?
My mother and the priests laugh me to scorn
When I say I wish you a boring journey.
They never had a traveler for a heart-mate.
What dangers will threaten you on the march,
What thieves in the dark, what perils in the light…
What…temptations…in the night…
To take you away from me?

With you near, I live,
Every second a life of joy;
Without you, I die,
A little more each day you are gone.
Oh, wandering beloved, come home soon
And raise me from this living tomb;
Crush my lips beneath yours,
Touch my body with your hand,
And fill my heart with your love.

Harper Ganesvoort, 2011


The details:

  • Gown: Danielle Thousand (silver and black lace)
  • Hair: PurpleMoon Era (ebony)
  • Jewelry: GaNKeD Black Sherbet suite; Paper Couture Times Square diamond ring
  • Makeup (in order of application): Glamorize Treasured Kisses Lips; Tattanooga Glamour 002 eyeshadow; BOOM Liquid Glaze liner (lashed yellow); White~Widow Cristal (purple)

Sweater Weather

The weather's getting colder all the time now, and we start breaking out our woolens even in the virtual world of Second Life. This black cardigan with white linen blouse, from INDI, is particularly nice for the late fall and maybe even early winter.

I was chilly with the November breeze,
and it was a courtly thing you did
draping the sweater over my shoulders,
taking care to smooth the wool
with a touch that whispered
that later you would claim the garment,
and the shiver taking it would bring
was something you coveted
with breathless avarice.

Read the rest of this entry »

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