The Sunless Side of Always

Posted in poetry, sonnet on September 29, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

I promise not to flinch to hate

I will embrace this gift of pain

I will not hide your sovereign light

Beneath this abject cloak of shame


 

I promise not to run and hide

Concealed in darkness of another

Nor pull your faults across my eyes

I’ll keep my word to stand and suffer


 

Night folds me in blackened wings

And paints a landscape sinister

Your beating heart, it echoes still

Through the tangle of my viscera


 

That rhythm scores these absent days

On the sunless side of always


 

And for those who prefer their sonnets in the traditional pentameter…


 

I promise that I’ll not flinch into hate

I will fully embrace this gift of pain

I will not turn and hide your sovereign light

Underneath this abject cloak of shame


 

I promise I’ll not run away and hide

Or curl up in darkness of another

I will not pull your faults across my eyes

I’ll keep my word that I’ll stand and suffer


 

As night enfolds me in its blackened wings

And paints a landscape chill and sinister

The beating of your heart, it echoes still

Through darkling tangle of my viscera


 

Its rhythm scores these silent, stagnant days

Encamped on the sunless side of always

James Salter’s ‘A Sport and a Pastime.’

Posted in Reading with tags , on September 17, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

2.

The notion of a relationship becoming deeper and more profound as people begin to ‘transgress’ the boundaries of what a twenty-first century reader would describe as vanilla sex is also a time-worn strategy.

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James Salter’s ‘A Sport and a Pastime.’

Posted in Reading with tags , , , , , , , , on September 16, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

1.

A Sport and a Pastime is considered – by Americans – to be an American classic. My first question, upon finishing the book, is, ‘What makes something a classic? What makes it ‘feel’ like one?’

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Blankness of a Clock Face

Posted in poetry, sonnet with tags , , on August 30, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

Your stride faltered in hesitation as
The young man held the door to let you pass
His face eclipsed by yours – a brief reflection
His eyes stalled by yours within the glass

I’d hoped to catch this moment in the mirror
Rising from the lines upon my face
But read the time less from standing figures
Than from the way you spanned the empty space

This morning’s spectre of your fragrant heat
Attendant to your body’s pooling shadow
Trickles through the reef of cotton sheet as
A frigid breeze rattles the open window

I kiss your neck, then disappear from sight
You turn to face the weeping winter light

The Devils – A User’s Guide

Posted in Fiction, Observation, Reading with tags , , , , , on August 26, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

What’s it about?

What amounts to a terrorist cell in mid-nineteenth century Russia and its effect on a small fictional town of Dostoyevsky’s invention.

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Her Invisible Wings

Posted in poetry, sonnet with tags on August 9, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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Within the lock the key creates a flashpoint

And the lambent pressure of her absence

Rolls back in waves from the open door

And mounts walls in cylinders of silence

 

Where once we sheltered in woven shadows

Drifting down from her invisible wings

And the electricity of orgasm

Glittered random and wild across her skin

 


I talk to her when I’m in the shower

At least, to the frequencies that linger

And after, standing before the mirror

Watching as my hunkered shadow glowers

Deep beneath the sheen of beaded silver

Draw her ciphered outline with a finger

My Dark Vanessa

Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory, Reading with tags , , , , on August 7, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

 

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4.

“I called Lolita a love story and the professor cut me off, saying, ‘Calling this novel a love story indicates an unconscionable misreading on your part.’

She wouldn’t even let me finish what I was trying to say. Ever since then, I haven’t dared bring it up in any of my classes.”

p.291,

My Dark Vanessa.

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My Dark Vanessa

Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory, Reading with tags , , , , , , on August 2, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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3.

Our relationship lasted until after I graduated. She left her husband and I’d left school, and she came over to my apartment one day and we talked about doing it properly. Continue reading

My Dark Vanessa

Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory, Reading with tags , , on July 30, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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Kate Elizabeth Russell, author of ‘My Dark Vanessa.’

2.

I had an illicit relationship with a teacher that started when I was sixteen. I hadn’t thought much about it until recently, once I’d started reading Vanessa. Continue reading

My Dark Vanessa

Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory, Reading with tags , , , , , , , , , , on July 26, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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‘Romance is rape by seduction’.

– Andrea Dworkin.

1.

I used to hate Andrea Dworkin. She was invoked like a saint by all those hateful, spotty little feminazis at Melbourne University, chanting and shouting and marching, projecting all kinds of resentment and hatred. They threw the word ‘men’ like it was a paper bag full of shit. Continue reading

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