// desire //

IMG_8262

I am the consummation of desire.

I hunger and thirst and scream inside to quench an endless aching cycle of desires, wants, needs – some real, some required, some imagined, some sought, some denied.

This is how we breed and are bred.

Celestial oscillations between the shred of frustration and the collapse of molten satisfaction.

But the dangerous, the taut, the mysterious, the rare human creature will invoke a need without intent to satisfy it. She will hold herself within the tension between these two poles to find that satisfaction is not the pulse, anticipation is.

A willing mind hung inside this suspended place develops an affection for the unlimited richness, an overflow of toothsome sensations and experiences which exist only inside that electrified space between satisfied / not satisfied.

What a crime to live a life chasing nothing in the end without savoring the chase. How tragic to be ignorant to the divine clutches of raw frustration.

That which we deny, denies us.

What mad ecstasy to dangle on a hook, torn between the pleasure of attaining our desires… and the pleasure of not.

~ Allison Marie Conway ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and affection. x

21 thoughts on “// desire //

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      This more intimate writing of prose is something of a new exploration and deepening for me, I thank you so much for your connection, Ryan. Much love! :)

      Reply
  1. Terrelyn Whittall

    Allison….you are an Incredible writer….I love this one….Thanks for visiting my blog…..maybe we could compare notes….I feel ,that I could learn alot from you……. Bravo!

    Reply
    1. Allison Marie Post author

      I am so deeply grateful to you for your connection and kindness, dear Terrelyn. I thank you endless and I will absolutely be visiting more of your blog and would love to compare notes as you say. I send you much love and light, writer spirit friend. :)

      Reply
          1. Terrelyn Whittall

            The words ebb and flow… yet we are constantly inspired, whether the seed is small or great….whether the wind blowing our sail is but a whisper….stilled…. or gale force….depends on the motivation ,and which direction it points to…..

      1. Terrelyn Whittall

        Love your blog on silence …. and “kneel” …it gave me a jumping off point…. because of a particular behavior that Christians, or faithful people in a kingdom with a loving king would do…. I also completed that blog post…..and I supremely wish for you to enjoy it….immensely… and my advice to you that has stuck with me…is something from my middle school English teacher…she said after I had complimented her about her influence , by recognizing my writing strength,and gave the right push …..she said for me to …” write about what I love and what i hate …. and most of all ..do as I did with that pivotal journal assignment….add that extra element that you did…be BRUTAL … with it…. because it comes out much stronger ,like the One with a Sword….it’s strength undeniable …. and also to carry within that a love for the “sport” of writing….and it should be an Olympic sport…..my literary javelin competition….heh

        xo Terrelyn

        Reply
        1. Allison Marie Post author

          Thank you so deeply and much! I love the idea of writing as a sport. That does truly resonate. Brutal, yes, yes, I believe that is so important. To go beyond our ego, beyond our selves and look back in. To get beyond the judgments and be ruthless about growth. It’s a trick to pull off indeed, right.

          Bravo on your blog post, I am honored to be invited in and I will surely enjoy it.

          Have you ever read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield? There is no better writer’s bible in my opinion. :)

          Much love and gratitude XO

          Reply
    1. Allison Marie Post author

      That is actually my favorite line from a poem by Michael Donaghy. Only when I researched it further did I come upon the original phrase as part of a poem by Raleigh.

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.