죽기 전에 > 기타 게시판 > 봉황이 연작을 따돌리며 무음의 올가즘 # 1

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봉황이 연작을 따돌리며 무음의 올가즘 # 1

글쓴이 : dkpark 날짜 : 2015-02-13 (금) 13:44 조회 : 3585

숫 봉(鳳)과 암봉(凰)이 제비를 따돌리고 각설하며 올가즘.

두애의 관음증때문인가, 감춰둔 도청기.

전처럼 그의 입으로는 대본을 외우지만, 그가 그녀를 걸타고 애희, 그녀가 애욕에 겨워 누우며 절석위(截石位) 자세, 천장을 향해 두 발 벌려 분만의 자세.

그는 깊게 향음한다. "으-음! "

오늘은 생선 비린내, 구운 빵 냄새.

앞서는 양파 삶은 냄새. 그녀의 발정기였지.

출산의 비밀 궁전의 냄새. 청록백색 구름에 덮힌 지구덩어리 신비체를 내려다 보듯 착륙할 때를 정한다.

독백:아버지가 들어갔던 이 곳으로 나오지 않기 위해 푸리트왕은 손에서 태어났고, 만다트리(曼陀)는 머리 위로 낳았고, 카크시바트(伽叉)는 겨드랑이에서 낳아졌고, 간적(簡狄)이라는 여인이 제비가 낳은 알을 먹고 상(商)의 시조 설(契)을 낳았고 신라 박혁거세는 알에서 낳았으나 다 애비모르는 불쌍한 자식들.

그 자신은 바깥으로부터 더럽혀진 그의 것을 미리 씻지만 그녀의 것을 나중에 씻게 하는 묵계.

그가 김치를 물에 빨아 먹지 않듯, 오히려 프라이팬에 기름기를 칠하듯, 질에서 나는 냄새는 그들의 성 스트레스 마찰열을 감내할 수 있는 그로엘 차페론 단백 분비물, GROEL Chaperone HSP 60, 70 hepta heat shock protein.

조물주의 맹한 냄새가 아님.

그는 독백하고 두애가 좀 들으라고 크게 방백한다.

독백:혼자 하는 소리

방백:앞에 있는 이에게는 들리지 않고 제 3자의 귀에만 들리는 말

독백:행운과 미녀는 용감한 자에게!

방백:내가 관을 벗고 과수에게 입려하여 조롱을 사네.

내가 형수를 도와 형수를 훔치는 경우인가?

여인이 나를 희롱하지 않으나 구애를 거절하네.

독백:실토를 안하는도다. 끌어 따르게 하는 방법 뿐이로다.

..... 선입관자가 왕이라고 입궁하는 방법 밖에는.

..... 잽싼 새라야만 아침에 남보다 먼저 모이를 쪼을 수 있다.

..... 주무왕, 장량의 회유책이 먹히지 않을 때는 손자 병세편.

..... 저 쪽을 먼저 알고 나를 알면 백전백승.

..... 목검으로 진검을 이길 수도 있는 법.

방백:주희씨는 블랙벨트.

독백:그렇다면 신속하게 오차 없이.

...... 심리전에서 한 눈만 팔아봐라.

...... 그녀 눈동자의 움직임을 일초도 놓치지 않을꺼야.

방백:부딪쳐 흐르는 거센 물이 돌을 뜨게 할 수 있는 것은 그 물살이 세고 맹렬하기 때문.

사나운 송골매의 쏜 살같은 습격이 새의 날개를 꺽고 목 뼈를 부술 수 있는 까닭은 습격이 빠르고 정확하기 때문.

요원의 불길이 하늘로 치솟을 수 있는 까닭은 벌판이 높아서가 아니고 집적된 열정이 불타기 때문.

그녀에게:테니슨의 시에 이런 구절이 있서요.

"아 빨리 저의 아래의 욕구를 강하게 해주세요. 날 깨우쳐 주세요!"

그는 잠옷에서 소야곡과 감때사나운 시문첩지를 그녀에게 보여준다.

그녀가 '웃기시네'라고 말하며 '나의 아래 욕구를 찾아주세요. - ..low Desire! Strengthen me, Enlighten me(1830)'를 읽을 때에 그녀를 잽싸게 붙잡고 입을 맞추었기에 오늘이 있는 것.

독백:한 번 열던 문은 다음에 쉽게 열린다.

그에게: '간지럽네! 저리 비켜! 아니면 죽여버릴꺼야!

자네가 유혹했기때문이라고 말하진 않겠서!'

" .................... "

"고의를 입고 있는 눈속임. 그 것만 입는 거야! 그 것은 은총의 표상. 끝남이 없는 행복.

하면서 고행과 금욕을 끝내는 자네의 편리! 10년 가면의 서원!"

"나중에 아신다니까요! 가시열대어(surgeon fish)와 거북은 도와가며 살지요."

어느 틈에 그녀 팔에 졸려진 목을 빼면서 계면쩍게 웃은 일이 오늘이 있기까지 몇번이나 있섰던가.

그들의 무음(無淫)은 올가즘따라 괴성을 지르지 않음에 남에게 눈치채이지 않는 특별한 무상요가 탄트라 제 4~5위 급수의 배려가 있섰음.

공(空)의 쌍입 쾌락을 올라타는 즉신성불(卽身成佛) 칼라차크라 시륜승(詩輪乘).

[이 게시물은 100se님에 의해 2018-03-29 12:33:55 스피커스 코너에서 이동 됨] [이 게시물은 100se님에 의해 2018-03-29 13:12:29 대화의 광장에서 이동 됨]

써니

2015-02-15 (일) 11:03

Thou who stealest fire,
From the fountains of the past,
To glorify the present; oh, haste,
Visit my low desire!
Strengthen me, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.

Come not as thou camest of late,
Flinging the gloom of yesternight
On the white day; but robed in soften'd light
Of orient state.
Whilome thou camest with the morning mist,
Even as a maid, whose stately brow
The dew-impearled winds of dawn have kiss'd,
When she, as thou,
Stays on her floating locks the lovely freight
Of overflowing blooms, and earliest shoots
Of orient green, giving safe pledge of fruits,
Which in wintertide shall star
The black earth with brilliance rare.

Whilome thou camest with the morning mist.
And with the evening cloud,
Showering thy gleaned wealth into my open breast,
(Those peerless flowers which in the rudest wind
Never grow sere,
When rooted in the garden of the mind,
Because they are the earliest of the year).
Nor was the night thy shroud.
In sweet dreams softer than unbroken rest
Thou leddest by the hand thine infant Hope.
The eddying of her garments caught from thee
The light of thy great presence; and the cope
Of the half-attain'd futurity,
Though deep not fathomless,
Was cloven with the million stars which tremble
O'er the deep mind of dauntless infancy.
Small thought was there of life's distress;
For sure she deem'd no mist of earth could dull
Those spirit-thrilling eyes so keen and beautiful:
Sure she was nigher to heaven's spheres,
Listening the lordly music flowing from
The illimitable years.
O strengthen me, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.

Come forth I charge thee, arise,
Thou of the many tongues, the myriad eyes!
Thou comest not with shows of flaunting vines
Unto mine inner eye,
Divinest Memory!
Thou wert not nursed by the waterfall
Which ever sounds and shines
A pillar of white light upon the wall
Of purple cliffs, aloof descried:
Come from the woods that belt the grey hill-side,
The seven elms, the poplars four
That stand beside my father's door,
And chiefly from the brook that loves
To purl o'er matted cress and ribbed sand,
Or dimple in the dark of rushy coves,
Drawing into his narrow earthen urn,
In every elbow and turn,
The filter'd tribute of the rough woodland.
O! hither lead thy feet!
Pour round mine ears the livelong bleat
Of the thick-fleeced sheep from wattled folds,
Upon the ridged wolds,
When the first matin-song hath waken'd the loud
Over the dark dewy earth forlorn,
What time the amber morn
Forth gushes from beneath a low-hung cloud.

Large dowries doth the raptured eye
To the young spirit present
When first she is wed;
And like a bride of old
In triumph led,
With music and sweet showers
Of festal flowers,
Unto the dwelling she must sway.
Well hast thou done, great artist Memory,
In setting round thy first experiment
With royal frame-work of wrought gold;
Needs must thou dearly love thy first essay,
And foremost in thy various gallery
Place it, where sweetest sunlight falls
Upon the storied walls;
For the discovery
And newness of thine art so pleased thee,
That all which thou hast drawn of fairest
Or boldest since, but lightly weighs
With thee unto the love thou bearest
The first-born of thy genius.
Artist-like,
Ever retiring thou dost gaze
On the prime labour of thine early days:
No matter what the sketch might be;
Whether the high field on the bushless Pike,
Or even a sand-built ridge
Of heaped hills that mound the sea,
Overblown with murmurs harsh,
Or even a lowly cottage whence we see
Stretch'd wide and wild the waste enormous marsh,
Where from the frequent bridge,
Like emblems of infinity,
The trenched waters run from sky to sky;
Or a garden bower'd close
With plaited alleys of the trailing rose,
Long alleys falling down to twilight grots,
Or opening upon level plots
Of crowned lilies, standing near
Purple-spiked lavender:
Whither in after life retired
From brawling storms,
From weary wind,
With youthful fancy reinspired,
We may hold converse with all forms
Of the many-sided mind,
And those whom passion hath not blinded,
Subtle-thoughted, myriad-minded.
My friend, with you to live alone,
Were how much better than to own
A crown, a sceptre, and a throne!
O strengthen, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.

댓글주소

<div> </div>Thou who stealest fire, From the fountains of the past, To glorify the present; oh, haste, Visit my low desire! Strengthen me, enlighten me! I faint in this obscurity, Thou dewy dawn of memory. Come not as thou camest of late, Flinging the gloom of yesternight On the white day; but robed in soften'd light Of orient state. Whilome thou camest with the morning mist, Even as a maid, whose stately brow The dew-impearled winds of dawn have kiss'd, When she, as thou, Stays on her floating locks the lovely freight Of overflowing blooms, and earliest shoots Of orient green, giving safe pledge of fruits, Which in wintertide shall star The black earth with brilliance rare. Whilome thou camest with the morning mist. And with the evening cloud, Showering thy gleaned wealth into my open breast, (Those peerless flowers which in the rudest wind Never grow sere, When rooted in the garden of the mind, Because they are the earliest of the year). Nor was the night thy shroud. In sweet dreams softer than unbroken rest Thou leddest by the hand thine infant Hope. The eddying of her garments caught from thee The light of thy great presence; and the cope Of the half-attain'd futurity, Though deep not fathomless, Was cloven with the million stars which tremble O'er the deep mind of dauntless infancy. Small thought was there of life's distress; For sure she deem'd no mist of earth could dull Those spirit-thrilling eyes so keen and beautiful: Sure she was nigher to heaven's spheres, Listening the lordly music flowing from The illimitable years. O strengthen me, enlighten me! I faint in this obscurity, Thou dewy dawn of memory. Come forth I charge thee, arise, Thou of the many tongues, the myriad eyes! Thou comest not with shows of flaunting vines Unto mine inner eye, Divinest Memory! Thou wert not nursed by the waterfall Which ever sounds and shines A pillar of white light upon the wall Of purple cliffs, aloof descried: Come from the woods that belt the grey hill-side, The seven elms, the poplars four That stand beside my father's door, And chiefly from the brook that loves To purl o'er matted cress and ribbed sand, Or dimple in the dark of rushy coves, Drawing into his narrow earthen urn, In every elbow and turn, The filter'd tribute of the rough woodland. O! hither lead thy feet! Pour round mine ears the livelong bleat Of the thick-fleeced sheep from wattled folds, Upon the ridged wolds, When the first matin-song hath waken'd the loud Over the dark dewy earth forlorn, What time the amber morn Forth gushes from beneath a low-hung cloud. Large dowries doth the raptured eye To the young spirit present When first she is wed; And like a bride of old In triumph led, With music and sweet showers Of festal flowers, Unto the dwelling she must sway. Well hast thou done, great artist Memory, In setting round thy first experiment With royal frame-work of wrought gold; Needs must thou dearly love thy first essay, And foremost in thy various gallery Place it, where sweetest sunlight falls Upon the storied walls; For the discovery And newness of thine art so pleased thee, That all which thou hast drawn of fairest Or boldest since, but lightly weighs With thee unto the love thou bearest The first-born of thy genius. Artist-like, Ever retiring thou dost gaze On the prime labour of thine early days: No matter what the sketch might be; Whether the high field on the bushless Pike, Or even a sand-built ridge Of heaped hills that mound the sea, Overblown with murmurs harsh, Or even a lowly cottage whence we see Stretch'd wide and wild the waste enormous marsh, Where from the frequent bridge, Like emblems of infinity, The trenched waters run from sky to sky; Or a garden bower'd close With plaited alleys of the trailing rose, Long alleys falling down to twilight grots, Or opening upon level plots Of crowned lilies, standing near Purple-spiked lavender: Whither in after life retired From brawling storms, From weary wind, With youthful fancy reinspired, We may hold converse with all forms Of the many-sided mind, And those whom passion hath not blinded, Subtle-thoughted, myriad-minded. My friend, with you to live alone, Were how much better than to own A crown, a sceptre, and a throne! O strengthen, enlighten me! I faint in this obscurity, Thou dewy dawn of memory.<div> </div><div> </div>

써니

2015-02-15 (일) 11:08

다음에 쉽게 열린 문을 들어 서는 마음이야 처음 들어 섰을 때만 하겠습니까? ㅎ

댓글주소

	총 게시물 404건, 최근 0 건


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