April 21, 2006

  • “I wandered to the back fencing of my apartment complex to sample the early honeysuckle.  Each flower holding the barest raindrop of nectar. Pinch the stem to the neck of the petals, tuck the flower in my mouth, and draw the nectar with my tongue.  Not the most efficient way, but I love the feel of flowers in my mouth. The feather of petals curling on the roof and blooming out from the oval pot of my lips.  I like the taste of bitter and green, the base perfume of flower mixing with saliva. When the brief nectar fades on each honeysuckle I spit the flower free and move to the next.”  drunkpunches


    This is the first paragraph of the best thing I’ve read in a long time.  He posted it yesterday. 

Comments (16)

  • How many of us have done exactly what he wrote about?  I know everyone I grew up with did.

  • I agree – isn’t it a wonderful picture of early spring?

  • Darned if I didn’t have a Honeysuckle experience from day’s gone past as I read this..nice..I’ll try to call this afternoon..so busy, if I don’t get to it today, early next…marilyn

  • you are right-on! that was an awesome word picture!

  • I am going there now…Thanks:) RYc It is sad..but for me comforting because it makes me feel better about people.

  • Guess i’m a bit warped…THIS

    You have often seen the sand on the seashore. How fine are its tiny grains! And how many of those tiny little grains go to make up the small handful which a child grasps in its play. Now imagine a mountain of that sand, a million miles high, reaching from the earth to the farthest heavens, and a million miles broad, extending to remotest space, and a million miles in thickness; and imagine such an enormous mass of countless particles of sand multiplied as often as there are leaves in the forest, drops of water in the mighty ocean, feathers on birds, scales on fish, hairs on animals, atoms in the vast expanse of the air: and imagine that at the end of every million years a little bird came to that mountain and carried away in its beak a tiny grain of that sand. How many millions upon millions of centuries would pass before that bird had carried away even a square foot of that mountain, how many eons upon eons of ages before it had carried away all? Yet at the end of that immense stretch of time not even one instant of eternity could be said to have ended. At the end of all those billions and trillions of years eternity would have scarcely begun. And if that mountain rose again after it had been all carried away, and if the bird came again and carried it all away again grain by grain, and if it so rose and sank as many times as there are stars in the sky, atoms in the air, drops of water in the sea, leaves on the trees, feathers upon birds, scales upon fish, hairs upon animals, at the end of all those innumerable risings and sinkings of that immeasurably vast mountain not one single instant of eternity could be said to have ended; even then, at the end of such a period, after that eon of time the mere thought of which makes our very brain reel dizzily, eternity would scarcely have begun.

    is still the yardstick i measure GOOD writing by

  • How sweet it all is…even the bitter and the green of life mixed with the saliva of spirit.

    Thanks for sharing drunkpunches site.

  • Thanks for the link Prudy. . . . . so darn good. Will you do me a favor? Check my site and give me a bit of feedback. I really value your opinion.

  • I am in whole agreement with you. That was great.

  • I had a lecture on stocks, shares, bonds, buying property, insurance, everything… yesterday.  All I wanted to know was whether I had enough money to build a guest house here in the rainforest and buy a house.  I don’t know how you cope with it all, let alone enjoy it.

    The paragraph – serial oral promiscuity with flowers

  • I remember doing that when I was little.

  • I love Honeysuckle…writing is pretty good…thanks for pointing him out. I check and see what I “feel”. ;)

  • we had it on our side fence growing up and did the very same thing:)

  • Hi! Thanks for reading my stuff, commenting and thoughts. Now, did you go for creative writing some time back?  Are you there (in class ) now?              Lana

  • I don’t know if there are any “differences” between us…we simply walk different paths. Each requires 24 hours a day 365 days a year, we live, we love and then we pass on to, who knows what? I think we share in the desire for living a life of integrity and quality; don’t you? Other than that, I pray daily for the energy and youthful awe to live life fully to press my lips to the honeysuckle and partake daily of the sweetness of this earthly experience. Life is too short not to grasp every moment with zeal and determination. Though as you know I have moments when I have to work through the oppression of living and working on a day in and day out…but the brass ring is within reach. Again I am tired but I hope this makes some sense. Good night Pru`dance.

  •  aw shucks, thanks

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