I Envy You Not

Vials are vile in aforementioned deed, for if Truth is sought, it can’t be bought, at any price, indeed.

The implication lies in truths already known, and if one were to suggest consent, a battle would surely unfold.

Would you appreciate the challenging duel of accepting such a bribe, for surely this would be an affront that questions one’s pride.

In short, I can’t claim to desire to conspire in contributions unfair, for I seek not knowledge already known, for I am a Warrior, Indigo fair.

And so, to whom could I possible wish to inflict such conflicted war? I think of no one living, for whom I would wish to even the score;

In Truth what gains could be sought, but other than revenge, for certainly asking of another for their Truth, couldn’t possibly be for amends.

No, not I – I refuse – no satisfaction here, but perhaps if I sought in the lands of Death, a Truth might just seem fair.

Of Herr Freud I would inquire, with much chagrin charged with desire, why he feels it necessary, to suggest and imply, from his pronouncements high, that females suffer from penis envy?

Nonsensical this – it’s a non-Truth – this I know as fact, envy of imagined power, control and dominance, deserves a white-gloved slap.

So challenged thus, I would inquire with deepest sympathy, mired in wily smiles, whether in fact, Herr Freud had long forgotten, he too started life as XX before the Dynamics of DNA suggested he needed a third leg, with which to play.

XY – Oh my! How sadly we are mislead, for there is no Truth in dominance suggested, of sexes gendered in battles that always bleed red.

You’ve come into possession of one vial of truth serum. Who would you give it to (with the person’s consent, of course) — and what questions would you ask? WP Daily Prompt

Split 2-for-1

image culled from Wikipedia  "He ain't smirking for nothing."

image culled from Wikipedia
“He ain’t smirking for nothing.”

A chasm exists in the Follies of Reading – to be fictive or non - this is the question posed today.

The main problem as I see it is this: with the onslaught of interconnected super wireless technology, who has time to read more than a 150 character burp about whatever happens to be of interest to those hopelessly attached to all their gadgets and gizmos?


Reading for fun?

Well if a thousand and one Arabian Knights charging at full speed on their steeds can no longer hold interest for most, considering that “family time” requires scheduling – hence the need for another whacked gadget that will annoyingly “beep beep boop” at you in friendly reminder – then how can I possibly consider reading fun?

To sit with a book in hand – paper sheaves with printed ink and classic type fonts that most certainly date back to Daguerre – seems scandalous – criminal intention certainly held in mind, as underground reading rooms spring up in back street alleys – darkly lit – smokey dens where Luddites meet in cloaked secrecy.

George Orwell would be proud – considering it is 2014 – not 1984; the resistance held out longer than anticipated.

Reading pleasure – a seemingly self-indulgent, decadent and fascinating masturbatory stimulation of imagination and senses.

Perhaps we all need to slow it down – savor fiction or non – it matters not – and simply revel in the ride to new heights and sensations; letting words in fine form and function roll lavishly in the mouth as rhythms beat out cadence in tribal, ancient yearnings, is nothing short of a tandem exploratory – as exercised by audience and author.

explore these spaces for reading pleasure:

Adventures Neverending

Of Fact or of Fiction

It’s Not the Genre That Matters

When reading for fun, do you usually choose fiction or non-fiction? Do you have an idea why you prefer one over the other? WP Daily Prompt

introductions introductions

I’m back to my old ways – dusted off Lemon Lime Follies – suddenly the title and what the original content was about seemed quite right and not-so politely correct.

There are changes of course – not only in the chic and swell design department, but in feeling – because I have changed too; from masked caped crusader to fruit basket bearing, sweet smiling candy stripper cane.

If you believe this last bit, let me know and I’ll unlawfully write you a prescription for some delicious opiates and offer you a doctor’s note for an immediate extended vacation at camp crazy beach, where the sun shines brightly from all orifices, the drinks are cool and free-flowing, and the splash splash splash of the waters is not the sound of someone peeing on their shoes.


It’s pretty informal around here, so if your invitation to Lemon Lime Follies reads “Black Tie”  – sadly you are at the wrong place, in the wrong time – which means everything is warped.