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Claire Mabey joins Jesse to review the following books: Stepping Up by David Hill Lyrical Ballads by Bill Manhire What to Wear by Jenny Bornholdt
Sanah Ahsan's evocative “Ramadan's Greeting” brings us into the thoughts and experiences of a person observing the holiest month in Islam. In nine brief couplets, the poet deftly directs our attention towards some of the rich contrasts that emerge at this time — between light and dark, desire and abstinence, self and community — as well as the abiding satisfactions and joys. We invite you to subscribe to Pádraig's weekly Poetry Unbound Substack, read the Poetry Unbound books and his newest work, Kitchen Hymns, or listen to all our Poetry Unbound episodes. Sanah Ahsan is a poet, liberation psychologist, and educator. Sanah's work plays in the wild terrain of woundedness, the sacred landscapes of falling apart, centering compassion and embracing each other's madness. Their work draws on therapeutics, psychospirituality, embodiment, and poetics as life-affirming practices. Some of Sanah's media work includes writing for The Guardian, delivering a TEDx Talk, and presenting a Channel 4 documentary on the overmedicalization of people's distress. Sanah is working on a nonfiction book about the politics of distress, and society's relationship with unruly emotions. As a poet, Sanah won the Out-Spoken Poetry Performance Prize and has been shortlisted for the Queen Mary Wasafiri New Writing Prize, The White Review Poetry Prize, and Bridport Poetry Prize. Sanah's debut poetry collection, I cannot be good until you say it, is a meditation on Islam, queerness, and goodness. It was shortlisted for The Forward Prize for Best First Collection and Polari Prize, and selected as one of The Guardian's Best Poetry Books.Find the transcript for this show at onbeing.org. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
"Dawns are heartbreaking," as is the queer love story of Arthur Rimbaud & Paul Verlaine.Please Support Breaking Form!Review the show on Apple Podcasts here.Aaron's STOP LYING is available from the Pitt Poetry Series. And BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE is available from Bridwell Press. James's ROMANTIC COMEDY is available from Four Way Books.Show Notes:Paul Verlaine was born in 1844. Read more about him here. Verlaine was an Aries sun, Leo Moon, and Scorpio ascendant.Arthur Rimbaud was born on October 20, 1854, and you can read more about him here. Rimbaud was a triple Libra (sun, moon, ascendant). Rimbaud met Verlaine in September 1871, a month before his 18th birthday. Following his tumultuous relationship with Paul Verlaine, which ended in 1873, Rimbaud traveled extensively through Europe, often on foot. He became a trader/merchant, selling coffee, hides, and eventually guns, becoming a "soldier of fortune." In 1891, a tumor developed on his right knee and forced him to return to Paris and died later that year at 37, without knowing how popular his poems had become in Symbolist circles. The gun Verlaine used to shoot Rimbaud recently went up for auction.One of the poems Rimbaud sent to Verlaine in 1871 was "Le Dormer du Val," which you can watch recited as part of the Favorite Poem Project here. (Recited by chef Jacques Pépin.) Rimbaud and Verlaine wrote a collaborative poem, "Sonnet to the Asshole" which you can read (and read about) here. In 2016, the poet Eileen Myles told The New York Times, "I think men should stop writing books. I think men should stop making movies or television. Say, for 50 to 100 years. Sounds great." Read the interview here.When we reference "tongue in the butt," we are talking about a segment from an early Breaking Form season 1 show called "Bad Animals." Check it out here, and hit the 14:30 mark. If you've never read Flannery O'Connor's short story "A Good Man Is Hard to Find," stop what you're doing and read it here.
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RU383: BALTIMORE BASED ARTIST & OCCULTIST NYNNMAH ON PHANTASMS OF EROS & NOSFERATU: https://renderingunconscious.substack.com/p/ru383-baltimore-based-artist-and Join Rendering Unconscious Podcast at Substack to watch full episodes and access the complete archive: https://renderingunconscious.substack.com Rendering Unconscious episode 383. For this episode, I sat down with Nynnmah, a zine artist with interests in literature, art, and esoterica. Having explored philosophical questions from a young age, Nynn has deep interests in exploring the nature of reality, free will, and esoteric topics. Nynn's work is influenced by her experiences, including her life in Baltimore, interest in metal music, and interactions with various cultural and spiritual influences. She emphasizes the importance of imagination, self-expression, and the role of artists in society. Follow Nynn at: https://www.instagram.com/nynnmah/ Nynn has a couple upcoming events, including talks on “Phantasms of Eros” Thursday, February 19th, and “Psychosexual & Esoteric Symbolism in Nosferatu” Thursday, February 26th. https://linktr.ee/nynnmah News & events: Monday, February 16th we have a LIVE Rendering Unconscious Podcast event with Drs. Helena Texier and Eve Watson, editors of Freud's Principle Case Studies Revisited: https://renderingunconscious.substack.com/p/you-are-invited-to-a-live-ru-podcast Wednesday, February 18th, we have Mikita Brottman presenting Images from the Id: The Strange World of Psychic Photographer Ted Serios. https://rucenterforpsychoanalysis.substack.com/p/images-from-the-id-the-strange-world Introduction to Occulture with author Carl Abrahamsson, Begins February 21, Morbid Anatomy Museum, online. https://www.morbidanatomy.org/classes/p/introduction-to-occulture-with-author-carl-abrahamsson-begins-february-7 If you're in London, I'll be at the Freud Museum in-person Wednesday, February 25th with my husband Carl Abrahamsson for Surreal Secrets of the Psyche: The Creative Zeitgeist of Psychoanalysis, Film and the Avant-Garde. https://www.freud.org.uk/event/surreal-secrets-of-the-psyche-the-creative-zeitgeist-of-psychoanalysis-film-and-the-avant-garde/ Monday, February 23rd Carl Abrahamsson will be in-person at the Viktor Wynd Museum in London presenting Fabulous Freaks of Yesteryear: https://thelasttuesdaysociety.org/exhibition/fabulous-freaks-of-yesteryear-by-carl-abrahamsson-live/ Rendering Unconscious is also a book series: Rendering Unconscious: Psychoanalytic Perspectives, Politics & Poetry vols 1:1 & 1:2 (Trapart Books, 2024): https://amzn.to/3N6XKIl The song at the end of this episode is "Celebrity" from the album "Infiltrate" by Vanessa Sinclair and Pete Murphy: https://petemurphy.bandcamp.com/album/infiltrate-21 Infiltrate has been featured on the latest episode of Radio Panik! https://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/l-etranger/show-518-drud-freeform-hemline/ Enjoy! Thank you for being a paid subscriber to Rendering Unconscious Podcast. It makes my work possible. If you are so far a free subscriber, thanks to you too. Please consider becoming a paid subscriber to gain access to all the material on the site, including new, future, and archival podcast episodes. It's so important to maintain independent spaces free from censorship and corporate influence. If you are interested in pursing psychoanalytic treatment with me, please feel free to contact me directly: https://www.drvanessasinclair.net/contact/ Thank You.
SLEERICKETS is a podcast about poetry and other intractable problems. My book Midlife now exists. Buy it here, or leave it a rating here or hereFor more SLEERICKETS, subscribe to SECRET SHOW, join the group chat, and send me a poem for Listener Crit!Leave the show a rating here (actually, just do it on your phone, it's easier). Thanks!Wear SLEERICKETS t-shirts and hoodies. They look good!SLEERICKETS is now on YouTube!For a frank, anonymous critique on SLEERICKETS, subscribe to the SECRET SHOW and send a poem of no more 25 lines to sleerickets [at] gmail [dot] com Some of the topics mentioned in this episode:– Pre-order Brian's book The Optimists! It's so good!– Let me know if you'd like a review copy of my forthcoming chapbook The Soft Black Stars: sleerickets [at] gmail [dot] com– All That Glitter by Katie Dozier– The Poetry Space– Rattle– The Rattlecast– Good Bones by Maggie Smith– The Trouble with Poetry by Billy Colins– Limiting Poetry's Feedback Loop by Steven Searcy– Ep 231: Insidious Tendencies, ft. Steven SearcyFrequently mentioned names:– Joshua Mehigan– Shane McCrae– A. E. Stallings– Ryan Wilson– Morri Creech– Austin Allen– Jonathan Farmer– Zara Raab– Amit Majmudar– Ethan McGuire– Coleman Glenn– Chris Childers– Alexis Sears– JP Gritton– Alex Pepple– Ernie Hilbert– Joanna Pearson– Matt Wall– Steve Knepper – Helena Feder– David Yezzi– Victoria Moul– Katie Dozier & Tim Green– Tristram Fane SaundersOther Ratbag Poetry Pods:Poetry Says by Alice AllanI Hate Matt Wall by Matt WallVersecraft by Elijah Perseus BlumovRatbag Poetics By David Jalal MotamedAlice: In Future PostsBrian: @BPlatzerCameron: Minor TiresiasMatthew: sleerickets [at] gmail [dot] comMusic by ETRNLArt by Daniel Alexander Smith
TheWanderingPaddy Poetry - The Book of Truths. Out Now on Amazon. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Send a textThis week we are joined by poet, editor and translator Gerald Maa. Gerald talks about his origins and rise in the literary world and about his current role as editor of The Georgia Review. Enjoyed this conversation? Follow, subscribe, and leave a review to help others find the show. Gerald Maa began as editor and director of the Georgia Review in 2019. Since then, the Review has won, among other things, the National Magazine Awards (fiction and profile writing), the Pulitzer Prize, the Caine Prize, and the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize, reserved for debut publications. In 2010, he founded the arts anti-profit the Asian American Literary Review with Lawrence-Minh Bùi Davis, where he served as editor-in-chief until he joined the Georgia Review.His poetry and translation have appeared in places like Poetry, Raritan, and Push Open the Window: Contemporary Poetry from China. His essays have appeared in places like Criticism, A Sense of Regard: Essays on Poetry and Race, and The Routledge Companion for Ecopoetics. His work has been supported by places like the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference, the Library of Congress Asian Reading Room, and the Center for Writing and Translation at the University of California, Irvine.
#women #cricket #street #sports #sportsmanship #friends #fun #community #neighbourhood #poetry #Akkad Bakkad cricket song #books #kids #reading #library #booksthatspeak #readaloud #prathambooksIt's Sunday. It's a fun day. Mummy and her friends have come together for a thrilling game of cricket.Thanks to Storyweaver for the story.https://storyweaver.org.in/en/stories/637315-akkad-bakkad-golam-goliWritten by Lavanya KarthikIllustrated by Pankaj SaikiaPublished By Pratham BooksNarrated by Asawari Doshiअक्कड़ बक्कड़ गोलम गोली (Hindi), written by Lavanya Karthik, illustrated by Pankaj Saikia, published by Pratham Books (© Pratham Books, 2024) under a CC BY 4.0 license on StoryWeaver. Read, create and translate stories for free on www.storyweaver.org.inInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/booksthatspeak/Story's Video: https://youtu.be/HUQXV4gp5rQTo receive updates about Online and Offline storytelling events from Books That Speak, join the whatsapp group: https://chat.whatsapp.com/BuBaOlkD2UACckOdYk4FDgListen to the podcast:iTunes : https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/books-that-speak/id1287357479Watch Videos:YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/booksthatspeakWebsite: http://www.booksthatspeak.com/Email: contact.booksthatspeak@gmail.com#booksthatspeak #stories #readaloud #hindistories #indianstories #kids #kidsstories #readbooks #books
In this edition of Cascadian Prophets, we hear Bill Barillas on Theodore Roethke. Bill Barillas is the editor of A Field Guide to the Poetry of Theodore Roethke and serves on the board of The Friends of Roethke Foundation. Check out more of what the Lab does here, and listen to more current and archival podcasts on Spotify or on our website.
665. Part 2 of our interview of Zella Palmer, expert on Creole and African cooking. She released a documentary, The Story of New Orleans Creole Cooking: The Black Hand in the Pot. She is also the author of Recipes and Remembrances of Fair Dillard, 1869-2019.Zella, educator, food historian, author, and filmmaker, serves as the Chair and Director of the Dillard University Ray Charles Program in African-American Material Culture. Palmer is committed to preserving the legacy of African-American, Native American, and Latino culinary history in New Orleans and the South. Palmer curated The Story of New Orleans Creole Cooking: The Black Hand in the Pot academic conference and documentary, the Nellie Murray Feast, and the Dr. Rudy Joseph Lombard: Black Hand in the Pot Lecture Series. Now available: Liberty in Louisiana: A Comedy. The oldest play about Louisiana, author James Workman wrote it as a celebration of the Louisiana Purchase. Now it is back in print for the first time in 222 years. Order your copy today! This week in the Louisiana Anthology. Samuel Clemens. "Letter to Pamela A. Moffett." [It's the be]ginning of Lent, and all good Catholics eat and drink freely of what they please, and, in fact, do what they please, in order that they may be the better able to keep sober and quiet during the coming fast. It has been said that a Scotchman has not seen the world until he has seen Edinburgh; and I think that I may say that an American has not seen the United States until he has seen Mardi-Gras in New Orleans. I posted off up town yesterday morning as soon as the boat landed, in blissful ignorance of the great day. At the corner of Good-Children and Tchoupitoulas streets, I beheld an apparition! — and my first impulse was to dodge behind a lamp-post. It was a woman — a hay-stack of curtain calico, ten feet high — sweeping majestically down the middle of the street (for what pavement in the world could accommodate hoops of such vast proportions?) Next I saw a girl of eighteen, mounted on a fine horse, and dressed as a Spanish Cavalier, with long rapier, flowing curls, blue satin doublet and half-breeches, trimmed with broad white lace — (the balance of her dainty legs cased in flesh-colored silk stockings) — white kid gloves — and a nodding crimson feather in the coquettishest little cap in the world. She removed said cap and bowed low to me, and nothing loath, I bowed in return — but I could n't help murmuring, “By the beard of the Prophet, Miss, but you've mistaken your man this time — for I never saw your silk mask before, — nor the balance of your costume, either, for that matter.” And then I saw a hundred men, women and children in fine, fancy, splendid, ugly, coarse, ridiculous, grotesque, laughable costumes, and the truth flashed upon me — “This is Mardi-Gras!” This week in Louisiana history. February 13, 1899. Lowest temperature ever recorded in Louisiana, Minden, -16°F.This week in New Orleans history. First Rex Parade. February 13, 1872 Lewis J. Salomon reigned as Rex during the organization's first parade on February 13, 1872. The theme was "Triumphal Entry". The official anthem of Rex, "If Ever I Cease to Love", was a hit song of the early 1870's era from a musical comedy named "Bluebeard". The musical's leading lady, Lydia Thompson, was performing in New Orleans at the time of the first Rex parade. The visiting Grand Duke Alexis of Russia, who had seen "Bluebeard" during his national tour, was also familiar with the song and with Thompson, to whom he had once sent a gift bracelet. This week in Louisiana.Krewe of Artemis Parade Downtown Baton RougeBaton Rouge, LA 70801 February 21, 2026 at 7:00 PM Website: kreweofartemis.netEmail: info@kreweofartemis.netPhone: (225) 344-5272To find the parade route, visit the krewe's website and click on "Parade Route" in the main menu.The Krewe of Artemis is Baton Rouge's premier women‑led Mardi Gras parade, known for its family‑friendly atmosphere, signature throws, and vibrant nighttime procession:All‑Female Krewe: Founded in 2001, Artemis is the first and largest women's Mardi Gras krewe in Baton Rouge.Night Parade: Floats are illuminated for a glowing, high‑energy procession through downtown.Signature Throws: Popular items include light‑up beads, custom cups, and the krewe's collectible plush moon.Postcards from Louisiana. Delfayo Marsalis. Listen on Apple Podcasts. Listen on audible. Listen on Spotify. Listen on TuneIn. Listen on iHeartRadio. The Louisiana Anthology Home Page. Like us on Facebook.
On the latest Whisper in the Wings from Stage Whisper, we welcomed on the co-devisor/director Raymond O. Caldwell and the co-devisor Adrienne Torf, to talk about their latest production of Poetry for the People: The June Jordan Experience. This was a lovely conversation about a beautiful show that should not be missed. So make sure you tune in and turn up for this fabulous work!Poetry for the People: The June Jordan ExperienceNow- March 29thThe Fountain Theatre (Los Angeles, CA) Tickets and more information are available at fountaintheatre.com Streaming Live on February 24th. To purchase tickets visit thefreight.com And be sure to follow our guests to stay up to date on all their upcoming projects and productions: fountaintheatre.com@fountaintheatreraymondocaldwell.comadriennetorf.com @raymondocaldwell@adriennetorf
You feeling this episode? Send us a text!Happy Valentine's Day! This piece really doesn't need an intro or description. Just know when that music starts put everyone under 21 out of ear's reach. Don't say I ain't warn you. Y'all have a good time tonight. Make it nasty for the freaks in the back. Support the show
“O come, in any way you want” is the first line in Kevin Hart's marvelous, mystical “Prayer”. So come to this poem — whether for its deliciously sensual language (“bouts of rain”, “wind that wraps”, “raw and ragged smells / [o]f gumleaves”, and more), its air of mystery, or its unabashed aching for a “you” — and then linger for a while. Stay with it, or let it stay with you, and see what emerges. We invite you to subscribe to Pádraig's weekly Poetry Unbound Substack, read the Poetry Unbound books and his newest work, Kitchen Hymns, or listen to all our Poetry Unbound episodes.Kevin Hart's most recent collections of poetry are Firefly (Pitt St. Poetry, 2026) and Carnets (Cascade, 2025). Other collections include Wild Track: New and Selected Poems (Notre Dame UP, 2015) and Barefoot (Notre Dame UP, 2018). A collection of new selected poems, 101 Poems, is forthcoming from Pitt St. Poetry. He teaches at Duke University in Durham, NC. Find the transcript for this show at onbeing.org. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
This week, east Tennessee's Amythyst Kiah. Her latest album contemplates the cosmos.Also, hair salons are important gathering places where Black women can find community. And, West Virginia poet Torli Bush uses story to tackle tough subjects.
Leonardo da Vinci said, “Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt. Poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.”Today, we'll begin studying the fourth book of Psalms with a read through of Psalm 91. We'll look at how the poetic language of this songbook communicates something that everyday language cannot. Through metaphors that cause us to feel and understand abstract spiritual things, we're given images that strengthen our faith and paint lasting pictures in our minds.Today we'll see that the Psalms build our biblical imagination. Scriptures:NumbersPsalm 90:1Psalm 91Luke 10:19
TheWanderingPaddy Poetry - The Book of Truths. Out Now on Amazon. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
On the podcast today, Kelly Sawin reads her poems "In the Beginning" and "Study in Light" from our current Winter issue.Kelly Sawin's work has appeared in Ekstasis Magazine, The Windhover, River Teeth: Beautiful Things, the Appalachian Review, Susurrus, the Virginia Literary Review, and elsewhere. She was a finalist in the 2024 National Poetry Series, a semifinalist in the 2025 Lexi Rudnitsky First Book Prize in Poetry and in the 2024 Orison Poetry Prize. She lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia with her husband and three small children.
Poetry and baring the soul.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Arriving at her house, Leah and I carried my clothes up to the spare bedroom. I thanked Leah once again, then kissed her.Leah softly whispered, “Jorunn is downstairs!”I replied in the same whisper, “Then kiss me quietly.” And she did.I spent the remainder of the day doing my laundry, once Leah showed me how to use her Norwegian washing machine. Leah opened the clothes drying rack, and when done, I laid my clothes out to dry.For dinner, Leah prepared salmon fillets with boiled potatoes. As Jorunn and Leah washed the dishes, I sat on the center seat of the sofa, reflecting on the day. When they finished, both Jorunn and Leah rushed into the living room, extremely excited, and sat down on either side of me. Jorunn turned on the television and switched to Norwegian National Television. I wondered what the fuss was about.“Five more minutes,” yelped Jorunn.After a brief introduction, an old black-and-white movie started. Both Jorunn and Leah snuggled up tight against me and I put my arms around them. It felt great. The show, called “Dinner for One”, featured a 90-year-old countess celebrating her birthday. She invited four friends but outlived them all. Her butler decides to impersonate each of the four missing guests. As he slips into each of the roles, he drinks a toast, and quickly becomes intoxicated, leading to numerous sight gags. It felt good to laugh along with people again. It was rather short, and when it ended, Leah told me it was the most repeated television show of all time and is quite popular in Scandinavian countries and northern Europe.Leah and Jorunn went around rearranging and straightening Christmas decorations, then announced it was time to make Julekurver. I heard of them, but never actually made one. Made of paper, they are heart-shaped and filled with sweets.We quickly cleared the dining room table, then covered it with red and white paper, a plastic rule, a plastic circle, and scissor. Leah and Jorunn both moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper of each color, and I followed their action. Then it was time to measure and cut, and fortunately, they slowed down to allow me to keep up. Using a circle, we marked a half circle and cut the excess away. Then cut strips into the paper, not going all the way across. We wove the red and white papers together in a checkerboard pattern and unfolded them into a perfect heart shape. I thought the process rather inefficient and decided to show off my engineering skills from 3M by making a fancier one. As I unfolded it, Jorunn and Leah laughed, and a moment later, I discovered one way not to make a Julekurver.After a long and active day, I was tired, so I went to bed. Both Jorunn and Leah were talking softly in the living room as I drifted off to sleep.A nocturnal visitorDecember 23rd - Just Before MidnightI was startled awake when I heard my bedroom door close, followed by a soft, “Shush!”I listened closely in the total darkness for footsteps and heard someone approach my bed. Leah must be ready to resume what we started back at the hotel! A hand pulled back the covers, and instinctively I slid toward the middle of the bed to make space. Leah slid in next to me and drew the covers back over us.Leah moved and shifted, and a hand found the back of my head. I expected her lips to follow, and they did. Soft and gentle, a wonderful way for my nocturnal visitor to say hello. Leah told me at the hotel she did not want to feel rushed, so there was no urgency. Her lips retreated, and her hand slid down to caress my cheek, as delicate fingers gently stroked me.I reached out and found her left shoulder as Leah faced me, then marveled at the smoothness as my hand traced her arm downward. Approaching her hand, I extended further to touch her hip. I began softly rubbing, but her ass beckoned, and my hand moved to cup and squeeze her firm cheek. My fingers began shooting sensations of warmth, softness, and inner firmness directly to my brain. I pulled Leah tight against me and discovered she was already completely naked.Leah swung her left leg over me and moved to an upright position, straddling my crotch. Beneath my boxer shorts, my erect cock fought for release. Her hand found my cock within its shelter but did not liberate it. Instead, her hand pushed my cock flat against my lower stomach, and she slid forward, trapping it with the swollen outer lips of her pussy. Leah began slowly gyrating, and even through the fabric of my boxers, I felt her pussy lips spreading as they slid along either side of my hidden cock.The hushed sounds of Leah cooing and moaning barely reached my ears, as dampness built between us. I reached up with both hands, found her small breasts, and used my thumbs to tease her nipples to an erection. A heavy breath followed by a long ‘uh. Oh; Ah!’ brought me close to premature orgasm, but this was not what Leah wanted, so I held back.Leah must have sensed I was close. She stopped gyrating, lifted herself, and then began inching herself up my torso. She paused for a moment and sat on my chest, then her hands reached out to touch my face. Two fingertips began touring my facial features as if Leah wanted to memorize every feature of my face. In the darkness, my senses heightened, her fingers swirled, and circled, and glided over me. I never would have imagined how erotic it felt.Leah resumed moving higher, her knees passing over my shoulders until they rested on either side of my head. I reached up to confirm what lay just inches above my face and grazed the same hairy splendor I sampled back at the hotel. Inhaling deeply, I picked up traces of the same body wash on her thighs. I was ready to dive back in, so I reached up and grabbed Leah’s hips, then pulled her pussy down toward my awaiting tongue. I paused as her short curly hair began painting her scent onto my face. The scent of arousal overpowered my senses. But? Something strange? I froze. The contradiction awoke my twilight dream state.“Why did you stop, Gunnar?” From the darkness came Jorunn’s voice! The dream of Leah's nocturnal visit was replaced by the reality of a beautiful young woman revealing her devotion and desire to this 56 year old guy.I was stunned. I couldn’t reveal the real reason I stopped; was uncertainty. Jorunn’s pussy smelled different than Leah’s! I hadn’t noticed any difference between Leah’s and Jorunn’s tall, fit bodies. If there were any, they were undetectable in the darkness, especially with only my brief exposure to Leah. “I can’t do this with you, Jorunn.” I softly and sincerely spoke.“I want to make love to you tonight, Gunnar. More than anything in the world. Am I not pretty enough? Has not enough time passed since your wife’s funeral? You are the only man in the world I can love to, without fear of being hurt.”“Jorunn, you are an incredibly beautiful woman. For months, I fantasized about holding you in my arms, kissing you, and wishing to be exactly where I am now. But yesterday, I met your mother.”Jorunn asked, “Did she order you not to have sex with me?”I replied, “It’s not that. I think I’m falling in love with Leah. We spent a wonderful day together, and she swept me off my feet. If that love turns out to be mutual, I am prepared to pledge my heart totally to her and her alone. A lifetime commitment, one I will never dishonor. The only reason you and I got this far tonight is that in the darkness and my dream state, I thought you were Leah. I never would have done it otherwise.” But you are a lovely and desirable woman. I respect you and Leah. So much that I cannot be false to either of you. And I cannot dishonor myself, by doing what I know is dishonorable.”Jorunn shifted positions and lay next to me in the bed. In the darkness, Jorunn whispered, “You are so unlike my father. He always put himself first. I was ready to give myself to you tonight. You could have kept quiet and let it happen. Then lied about it to my mother in the morning. But you didn’t. You are a better man than my father ever was, and I know you will make my mother happy. Please don’t be afraid to give her, and yourself, a chance. She really needs someone like you in her life.”I heard a soft sob and reached out to touch Jorunn’s face. She was crying. Jorunn came into my bedroom tonight, looking for someone to love. She didn’t know about Leah and me, or what happened between us at the hotel. I very much doubt her mother would have told her. I admired what Jorunn just did. She was sacrificing her chance at love so that her mother might have one. Jorunn knew that she bore the duty to initiate affection, after so harshly rejecting my romantic advances, last week.Silence followed, before Jorunn finally said, “What you have shown me, Gunnar, is that there are still good men in this world. But I am still afraid to look for them.”I thought back to the day Jorunn and I went sledging. “Remember what you told me at Korketrekkeren? You don’t need to be afraid of looking for a man, Jorunn. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try looking for a man. Promise me that you will push off, just like riding a sledge, and start looking. When you reach the bottom of that scary hill, you will no longer be afraid, and someone you love will be waiting there for you.”“I will, Gunnar. I promise. And thank you.” Jorunn climbed out of my bed and closed the door as she left.Christmas EveDecember 24 - MorningI woke up in the guest room bed. Hearing noises and holiday folk music in the kitchen, I dressed and went downstairs. Leah smiled and said, “God Jul!”, Norwegian's way of saying merry Christmas. Then she made me scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. Afterward, I enjoyed a slice of fruited Christmas Cake with coffee.“Leah, there is something I need to tell you. Jorunn came into my room last night looking for a man to love. In the darkness and my dream state, I thought it was you. It took a moment for me to realize it was Jorunn, and I stopped myself before going too far. Jorunn and I talked, and I confessed my love for you, to her. She understood, and asked that I give that love a chance. I want to do that. I asked Jorunn to no longer be afraid to look for love, and she agreed.”“Thank you for telling me, Gunnar. I have struggled to get Jorunn to go on dates after her father hurt her so badly. You must be a special man to find a place in her heart.”Leah sat down at the table with me, and continued; “I trust Jorunn, and now I trust you. So you will know, I will come to you tonight, bearing a lighted candle.”I said, “That sounds romantic.” My cock jolted to attention, under my trousers. I smiled and winked.Leah replied, “Wait until you see what I will be wearing.” She stood and returned to her baking, as the soft holiday music filled the busy kitchen. Leah's hips softly gyrated to the soft beat as she hummed with the lyrics.Jorunn came down later for breakfast, and after eating, she announced she would be working on edits and voiceovers for her recent videos. Since they were related to Christmas, she wanted to finish them to post them later tonight.Just before lunch, Leah led me back to the television and as we snuggled on the couch, she turned on “Tre Notter til Askepott”, a 1973 Czech reenactment of Cinderella, dubbed into Norwegian. The story was familiar, with Cinderella granted three wishes. It was enjoyable, but the dubbed dialog did not quite match the lips of the actors, so I needed to concentrate on what they were saying. Leah mentioned that this show is so popular in Norway, that storms of protest arose one year when they decided not to broadcast it. They ended up sending it out later in the holiday.Jorunn joined Leah and me for lunch. We ate Risengrynsgrot, which is rice porridge cooked with milk, sugar, and vanilla. We each had a bowl, and hiding in one of the three bowls was an almond. I suspected possible cheating such that I would be the one getting the almond, but as it turned out, Jorunn got the lucky bowl. As her prize, Leah gave Jorunn a chocolate-covered marzipan pig, an oddity for certain, but part of the tradition. There was porridge left over, and Leah said she would use it to make Riskrem, the delicious rice dessert eaten after tonight’s dinner. Solveig’s Riskrem was one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, and I was looking forward to tasting Leah’s.Leah turned to me and said, “If you want to eat, you must help in the kitchen.”Cooking was not something I knew very well, and after Leah led me into the kitchen, I let her know that. But since we were alone, I moved behind her, pulled her blonde hair aside, and nuzzled her neck.Leah said, “If you don’t stop, Gunnar, it will take longer before we eat.” But she wiggled her hips into my crotch before spinning out of my embrace.I helped Leah remove a large roasting pan from the refrigerator and put it in the oven. “That’s a strange-looking piece of meat,” I said.Leah replied, “It is called Ribbe, or roasted pork belly. It is one of the most popular Christmas meals in Norway. I scored the fat layer on top two days ago into a checkerboard pattern. Once cooked, the bottom meat stays tender while the cracklings on top get crispy.”Leah handed me a vegetable peeler and pointed to a bag of potatoes. I needed no further instructions on this. While I worked, Leah flittered around the kitchen, preparing the side dishes. She looked genuinely happy, and we talked and laughed and told tales of Christmases long ago.Just as we pulled the Ribbe from the oven, church bells began ringing from multiple sources. It was 17:00.“It seems like an odd time for church bells,” I said.Leah replied, “In Scandinavia, a new day traditionally starts at sundown, not midnight. Following the old ways, Christmas Day has arrived. It is time to eat.”Jorunn joined us in the mad flurry of activity as places were set, and food moved from the kitchen to the dining room. On the table was Ribbe, boiled potatoes, meatballs, gravy, sausages, sauerkraut, prunes, and lingonberries. Leah poured each of us a tall glass of juleøl, a dark spiced ale, brewed during Christmas all over Norway. She said at one time, a Norwegian king made it illegal to Not brew Christmas Ale. Everything was delicious, and I ate until I could stuff in no more.After dinner, we cleaned up and went into the living room to enjoy coffee, cookies, and a small bowl of Riskrem. I wondered why Leah brought out four bowls of Riskrem. Three topped with whipped cream and a berry sauce, one with only a blob of butter in the middle.Leah said, “We set out a bowl of porridge every Christmas for the fjøsnissen. The tradition evolved from the days when farming families would offer porridge to their barn elf, or nisse. The nisse takes care of the animals in the barn during winter so they don’t get sick. If you don’t do this, the fjøsnissen will play tricks on you.”As we nibbled, Jorunn set the bowl of porridge outside the front door for the fjøsnissen. Then we sat and watched an American Christmas movie on television. After it ended, Leah announced it was time to open the presents. I suspected this would happen and was glad I bought a gift for both Leah and Jorunn. We each dispersed, returned with our packages, and placed them under the Christmas tree.As expected, Leah and Jorunn shared the most gifts for each other, opening the usual mix of chocolates, clothing, and kitchen items. Then Jorunn handed me a gift from her. I opened it and found a DVD labeled, 'Christmas in Norway Tour’, along with a link and instructions to download the video if I preferred. Jorunn told me she made an hour-long video of all the things we did together over the past week, adding music and voiceovers so I would remember the now-completed tour. In exceedingly small letters, at the bottom of the instructions, I saw a link for a story with a similar name and suspected it might be one full of adjectives.Jorunn then opened my gift to her. I remembered the small camera she used this past week and bought her a new top-of-the-line digital camera. From her reaction, I did well.Leah then opened my gift to her. I purchased a genuinely nice Advent star to hang in her window, since she did not have one. It was large and electrically lit and after opening it, she wanted to hang it up right away, which we did. Then we went outside to see how it looked. Leah kissed me and whispered that the Advent Star possessed a special meaning for her this year, a sign of brighter days ahead.Seeing us standing outside, a Julenissen crossed the street and came up to us. The man, dressed in a red jacket with a matching pointed red hat, carried a cloth sack. He was older, and his white beard looked genuine.Jorunn yelled, “God Jul, Julenissen!”As the Julenissen joined us, Leah said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Bjornstad.”The Julenissen opened a small cloth sack, pulled out a straw goat wrapped with red ribbons, and handed it to Jorunn. Leah explained that the Julenissen come around to houses on Christmas Eve to hand out presents and chocolate to the children. Often, more than one Julenissen would knock on your door during the evening. Unlike America, children get to meet the Julenissen in Norway.“It wouldn’t be the same this year without one of your julebukk!” said an excited Jorunn. Mr. Bjornstad had been coming to Jorunn’s house for a long time, and told us he likes to keep alive the old Norse traditions, such as the julebukk. In addition to handing out hand-made gifts, he tells folklore stories and tales from the days of the Vikings. What a wonderful thing to do to preserve the ancient Norse legacy of sagas and storytelling.Leah excused herself as Mr. Bjornstad started telling such a tale to Jorunn and me. He described Valhalla, where Odin and the brave warriors would train by day, and feast on roast boar and ale at night. Leah returned a moment later with four glasses of Aquavit. We toasted the season and sipped our Aquavit with the Julenissen after the story ended. We then sang a Christmas song together.Then we went back inside and watched the DVD that Jorunn made. The tour sounded exciting and full of fun, which indeed, it was. It also gave Leah another chance to see me in action. It was a full evening, and close to 23:00 when the DVD ended. We were all tired, and it was time for bed. Jorunn told us she was going upstairs to take a shower. Leah and I followed her up to our two bedrooms.A Single CandleDecember 24th - Late EveningFive minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Opening it, Leah stood there, holding a single candle, and wearing a lavender-colored silk nightgown and robe set. The half-sleeve wrap robe only partially covered her nightgown, leaving the lace-trimmed bustline and hem of her nightgown exposed. She put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “Shhh!” Then she led me by hand to her bedroom. The only light inside came from her single candle.My eyes quickly adjusted, or perhaps it was just my intent stare, “You look incredible.”Leah
Poetry and baring the soul.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Arriving at her house, Leah and I carried my clothes up to the spare bedroom. I thanked Leah once again, then kissed her.Leah softly whispered, “Jorunn is downstairs!”I replied in the same whisper, “Then kiss me quietly.” And she did.I spent the remainder of the day doing my laundry, once Leah showed me how to use her Norwegian washing machine. Leah opened the clothes drying rack, and when done, I laid my clothes out to dry.For dinner, Leah prepared salmon fillets with boiled potatoes. As Jorunn and Leah washed the dishes, I sat on the center seat of the sofa, reflecting on the day. When they finished, both Jorunn and Leah rushed into the living room, extremely excited, and sat down on either side of me. Jorunn turned on the television and switched to Norwegian National Television. I wondered what the fuss was about.“Five more minutes,” yelped Jorunn.After a brief introduction, an old black-and-white movie started. Both Jorunn and Leah snuggled up tight against me and I put my arms around them. It felt great. The show, called “Dinner for One”, featured a 90-year-old countess celebrating her birthday. She invited four friends but outlived them all. Her butler decides to impersonate each of the four missing guests. As he slips into each of the roles, he drinks a toast, and quickly becomes intoxicated, leading to numerous sight gags. It felt good to laugh along with people again. It was rather short, and when it ended, Leah told me it was the most repeated television show of all time and is quite popular in Scandinavian countries and northern Europe.Leah and Jorunn went around rearranging and straightening Christmas decorations, then announced it was time to make Julekurver. I heard of them, but never actually made one. Made of paper, they are heart-shaped and filled with sweets.We quickly cleared the dining room table, then covered it with red and white paper, a plastic rule, a plastic circle, and scissor. Leah and Jorunn both moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper of each color, and I followed their action. Then it was time to measure and cut, and fortunately, they slowed down to allow me to keep up. Using a circle, we marked a half circle and cut the excess away. Then cut strips into the paper, not going all the way across. We wove the red and white papers together in a checkerboard pattern and unfolded them into a perfect heart shape. I thought the process rather inefficient and decided to show off my engineering skills from 3M by making a fancier one. As I unfolded it, Jorunn and Leah laughed, and a moment later, I discovered one way not to make a Julekurver.After a long and active day, I was tired, so I went to bed. Both Jorunn and Leah were talking softly in the living room as I drifted off to sleep.A nocturnal visitorDecember 23rd - Just Before MidnightI was startled awake when I heard my bedroom door close, followed by a soft, “Shush!”I listened closely in the total darkness for footsteps and heard someone approach my bed. Leah must be ready to resume what we started back at the hotel! A hand pulled back the covers, and instinctively I slid toward the middle of the bed to make space. Leah slid in next to me and drew the covers back over us.Leah moved and shifted, and a hand found the back of my head. I expected her lips to follow, and they did. Soft and gentle, a wonderful way for my nocturnal visitor to say hello. Leah told me at the hotel she did not want to feel rushed, so there was no urgency. Her lips retreated, and her hand slid down to caress my cheek, as delicate fingers gently stroked me.I reached out and found her left shoulder as Leah faced me, then marveled at the smoothness as my hand traced her arm downward. Approaching her hand, I extended further to touch her hip. I began softly rubbing, but her ass beckoned, and my hand moved to cup and squeeze her firm cheek. My fingers began shooting sensations of warmth, softness, and inner firmness directly to my brain. I pulled Leah tight against me and discovered she was already completely naked.Leah swung her left leg over me and moved to an upright position, straddling my crotch. Beneath my boxer shorts, my erect cock fought for release. Her hand found my cock within its shelter but did not liberate it. Instead, her hand pushed my cock flat against my lower stomach, and she slid forward, trapping it with the swollen outer lips of her pussy. Leah began slowly gyrating, and even through the fabric of my boxers, I felt her pussy lips spreading as they slid along either side of my hidden cock.The hushed sounds of Leah cooing and moaning barely reached my ears, as dampness built between us. I reached up with both hands, found her small breasts, and used my thumbs to tease her nipples to an erection. A heavy breath followed by a long ‘uh. Oh; Ah!’ brought me close to premature orgasm, but this was not what Leah wanted, so I held back.Leah must have sensed I was close. She stopped gyrating, lifted herself, and then began inching herself up my torso. She paused for a moment and sat on my chest, then her hands reached out to touch my face. Two fingertips began touring my facial features as if Leah wanted to memorize every feature of my face. In the darkness, my senses heightened, her fingers swirled, and circled, and glided over me. I never would have imagined how erotic it felt.Leah resumed moving higher, her knees passing over my shoulders until they rested on either side of my head. I reached up to confirm what lay just inches above my face and grazed the same hairy splendor I sampled back at the hotel. Inhaling deeply, I picked up traces of the same body wash on her thighs. I was ready to dive back in, so I reached up and grabbed Leah’s hips, then pulled her pussy down toward my awaiting tongue. I paused as her short curly hair began painting her scent onto my face. The scent of arousal overpowered my senses. But? Something strange? I froze. The contradiction awoke my twilight dream state.“Why did you stop, Gunnar?” From the darkness came Jorunn’s voice! The dream of Leah's nocturnal visit was replaced by the reality of a beautiful young woman revealing her devotion and desire to this 56 year old guy.I was stunned. I couldn’t reveal the real reason I stopped; was uncertainty. Jorunn’s pussy smelled different than Leah’s! I hadn’t noticed any difference between Leah’s and Jorunn’s tall, fit bodies. If there were any, they were undetectable in the darkness, especially with only my brief exposure to Leah. “I can’t do this with you, Jorunn.” I softly and sincerely spoke.“I want to make love to you tonight, Gunnar. More than anything in the world. Am I not pretty enough? Has not enough time passed since your wife’s funeral? You are the only man in the world I can love to, without fear of being hurt.”“Jorunn, you are an incredibly beautiful woman. For months, I fantasized about holding you in my arms, kissing you, and wishing to be exactly where I am now. But yesterday, I met your mother.”Jorunn asked, “Did she order you not to have sex with me?”I replied, “It’s not that. I think I’m falling in love with Leah. We spent a wonderful day together, and she swept me off my feet. If that love turns out to be mutual, I am prepared to pledge my heart totally to her and her alone. A lifetime commitment, one I will never dishonor. The only reason you and I got this far tonight is that in the darkness and my dream state, I thought you were Leah. I never would have done it otherwise.” But you are a lovely and desirable woman. I respect you and Leah. So much that I cannot be false to either of you. And I cannot dishonor myself, by doing what I know is dishonorable.”Jorunn shifted positions and lay next to me in the bed. In the darkness, Jorunn whispered, “You are so unlike my father. He always put himself first. I was ready to give myself to you tonight. You could have kept quiet and let it happen. Then lied about it to my mother in the morning. But you didn’t. You are a better man than my father ever was, and I know you will make my mother happy. Please don’t be afraid to give her, and yourself, a chance. She really needs someone like you in her life.”I heard a soft sob and reached out to touch Jorunn’s face. She was crying. Jorunn came into my bedroom tonight, looking for someone to love. She didn’t know about Leah and me, or what happened between us at the hotel. I very much doubt her mother would have told her. I admired what Jorunn just did. She was sacrificing her chance at love so that her mother might have one. Jorunn knew that she bore the duty to initiate affection, after so harshly rejecting my romantic advances, last week.Silence followed, before Jorunn finally said, “What you have shown me, Gunnar, is that there are still good men in this world. But I am still afraid to look for them.”I thought back to the day Jorunn and I went sledging. “Remember what you told me at Korketrekkeren? You don’t need to be afraid of looking for a man, Jorunn. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try looking for a man. Promise me that you will push off, just like riding a sledge, and start looking. When you reach the bottom of that scary hill, you will no longer be afraid, and someone you love will be waiting there for you.”“I will, Gunnar. I promise. And thank you.” Jorunn climbed out of my bed and closed the door as she left.Christmas EveDecember 24 - MorningI woke up in the guest room bed. Hearing noises and holiday folk music in the kitchen, I dressed and went downstairs. Leah smiled and said, “God Jul!”, Norwegian's way of saying merry Christmas. Then she made me scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. Afterward, I enjoyed a slice of fruited Christmas Cake with coffee.“Leah, there is something I need to tell you. Jorunn came into my room last night looking for a man to love. In the darkness and my dream state, I thought it was you. It took a moment for me to realize it was Jorunn, and I stopped myself before going too far. Jorunn and I talked, and I confessed my love for you, to her. She understood, and asked that I give that love a chance. I want to do that. I asked Jorunn to no longer be afraid to look for love, and she agreed.”“Thank you for telling me, Gunnar. I have struggled to get Jorunn to go on dates after her father hurt her so badly. You must be a special man to find a place in her heart.”Leah sat down at the table with me, and continued; “I trust Jorunn, and now I trust you. So you will know, I will come to you tonight, bearing a lighted candle.”I said, “That sounds romantic.” My cock jolted to attention, under my trousers. I smiled and winked.Leah replied, “Wait until you see what I will be wearing.” She stood and returned to her baking, as the soft holiday music filled the busy kitchen. Leah's hips softly gyrated to the soft beat as she hummed with the lyrics.Jorunn came down later for breakfast, and after eating, she announced she would be working on edits and voiceovers for her recent videos. Since they were related to Christmas, she wanted to finish them to post them later tonight.Just before lunch, Leah led me back to the television and as we snuggled on the couch, she turned on “Tre Notter til Askepott”, a 1973 Czech reenactment of Cinderella, dubbed into Norwegian. The story was familiar, with Cinderella granted three wishes. It was enjoyable, but the dubbed dialog did not quite match the lips of the actors, so I needed to concentrate on what they were saying. Leah mentioned that this show is so popular in Norway, that storms of protest arose one year when they decided not to broadcast it. They ended up sending it out later in the holiday.Jorunn joined Leah and me for lunch. We ate Risengrynsgrot, which is rice porridge cooked with milk, sugar, and vanilla. We each had a bowl, and hiding in one of the three bowls was an almond. I suspected possible cheating such that I would be the one getting the almond, but as it turned out, Jorunn got the lucky bowl. As her prize, Leah gave Jorunn a chocolate-covered marzipan pig, an oddity for certain, but part of the tradition. There was porridge left over, and Leah said she would use it to make Riskrem, the delicious rice dessert eaten after tonight’s dinner. Solveig’s Riskrem was one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, and I was looking forward to tasting Leah’s.Leah turned to me and said, “If you want to eat, you must help in the kitchen.”Cooking was not something I knew very well, and after Leah led me into the kitchen, I let her know that. But since we were alone, I moved behind her, pulled her blonde hair aside, and nuzzled her neck.Leah said, “If you don’t stop, Gunnar, it will take longer before we eat.” But she wiggled her hips into my crotch before spinning out of my embrace.I helped Leah remove a large roasting pan from the refrigerator and put it in the oven. “That’s a strange-looking piece of meat,” I said.Leah replied, “It is called Ribbe, or roasted pork belly. It is one of the most popular Christmas meals in Norway. I scored the fat layer on top two days ago into a checkerboard pattern. Once cooked, the bottom meat stays tender while the cracklings on top get crispy.”Leah handed me a vegetable peeler and pointed to a bag of potatoes. I needed no further instructions on this. While I worked, Leah flittered around the kitchen, preparing the side dishes. She looked genuinely happy, and we talked and laughed and told tales of Christmases long ago.Just as we pulled the Ribbe from the oven, church bells began ringing from multiple sources. It was 17:00.“It seems like an odd time for church bells,” I said.Leah replied, “In Scandinavia, a new day traditionally starts at sundown, not midnight. Following the old ways, Christmas Day has arrived. It is time to eat.”Jorunn joined us in the mad flurry of activity as places were set, and food moved from the kitchen to the dining room. On the table was Ribbe, boiled potatoes, meatballs, gravy, sausages, sauerkraut, prunes, and lingonberries. Leah poured each of us a tall glass of juleøl, a dark spiced ale, brewed during Christmas all over Norway. She said at one time, a Norwegian king made it illegal to Not brew Christmas Ale. Everything was delicious, and I ate until I could stuff in no more.After dinner, we cleaned up and went into the living room to enjoy coffee, cookies, and a small bowl of Riskrem. I wondered why Leah brought out four bowls of Riskrem. Three topped with whipped cream and a berry sauce, one with only a blob of butter in the middle.Leah said, “We set out a bowl of porridge every Christmas for the fjøsnissen. The tradition evolved from the days when farming families would offer porridge to their barn elf, or nisse. The nisse takes care of the animals in the barn during winter so they don’t get sick. If you don’t do this, the fjøsnissen will play tricks on you.”As we nibbled, Jorunn set the bowl of porridge outside the front door for the fjøsnissen. Then we sat and watched an American Christmas movie on television. After it ended, Leah announced it was time to open the presents. I suspected this would happen and was glad I bought a gift for both Leah and Jorunn. We each dispersed, returned with our packages, and placed them under the Christmas tree.As expected, Leah and Jorunn shared the most gifts for each other, opening the usual mix of chocolates, clothing, and kitchen items. Then Jorunn handed me a gift from her. I opened it and found a DVD labeled, 'Christmas in Norway Tour’, along with a link and instructions to download the video if I preferred. Jorunn told me she made an hour-long video of all the things we did together over the past week, adding music and voiceovers so I would remember the now-completed tour. In exceedingly small letters, at the bottom of the instructions, I saw a link for a story with a similar name and suspected it might be one full of adjectives.Jorunn then opened my gift to her. I remembered the small camera she used this past week and bought her a new top-of-the-line digital camera. From her reaction, I did well.Leah then opened my gift to her. I purchased a genuinely nice Advent star to hang in her window, since she did not have one. It was large and electrically lit and after opening it, she wanted to hang it up right away, which we did. Then we went outside to see how it looked. Leah kissed me and whispered that the Advent Star possessed a special meaning for her this year, a sign of brighter days ahead.Seeing us standing outside, a Julenissen crossed the street and came up to us. The man, dressed in a red jacket with a matching pointed red hat, carried a cloth sack. He was older, and his white beard looked genuine.Jorunn yelled, “God Jul, Julenissen!”As the Julenissen joined us, Leah said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Bjornstad.”The Julenissen opened a small cloth sack, pulled out a straw goat wrapped with red ribbons, and handed it to Jorunn. Leah explained that the Julenissen come around to houses on Christmas Eve to hand out presents and chocolate to the children. Often, more than one Julenissen would knock on your door during the evening. Unlike America, children get to meet the Julenissen in Norway.“It wouldn’t be the same this year without one of your julebukk!” said an excited Jorunn. Mr. Bjornstad had been coming to Jorunn’s house for a long time, and told us he likes to keep alive the old Norse traditions, such as the julebukk. In addition to handing out hand-made gifts, he tells folklore stories and tales from the days of the Vikings. What a wonderful thing to do to preserve the ancient Norse legacy of sagas and storytelling.Leah excused herself as Mr. Bjornstad started telling such a tale to Jorunn and me. He described Valhalla, where Odin and the brave warriors would train by day, and feast on roast boar and ale at night. Leah returned a moment later with four glasses of Aquavit. We toasted the season and sipped our Aquavit with the Julenissen after the story ended. We then sang a Christmas song together.Then we went back inside and watched the DVD that Jorunn made. The tour sounded exciting and full of fun, which indeed, it was. It also gave Leah another chance to see me in action. It was a full evening, and close to 23:00 when the DVD ended. We were all tired, and it was time for bed. Jorunn told us she was going upstairs to take a shower. Leah and I followed her up to our two bedrooms.A Single CandleDecember 24th - Late EveningFive minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Opening it, Leah stood there, holding a single candle, and wearing a lavender-colored silk nightgown and robe set. The half-sleeve wrap robe only partially covered her nightgown, leaving the lace-trimmed bustline and hem of her nightgown exposed. She put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “Shhh!” Then she led me by hand to her bedroom. The only light inside came from her single candle.My eyes quickly adjusted, or perhaps it was just my intent stare, “You look incredible.”Leah
Poetry and baring the soul.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Arriving at her house, Leah and I carried my clothes up to the spare bedroom. I thanked Leah once again, then kissed her.Leah softly whispered, “Jorunn is downstairs!”I replied in the same whisper, “Then kiss me quietly.” And she did.I spent the remainder of the day doing my laundry, once Leah showed me how to use her Norwegian washing machine. Leah opened the clothes drying rack, and when done, I laid my clothes out to dry.For dinner, Leah prepared salmon fillets with boiled potatoes. As Jorunn and Leah washed the dishes, I sat on the center seat of the sofa, reflecting on the day. When they finished, both Jorunn and Leah rushed into the living room, extremely excited, and sat down on either side of me. Jorunn turned on the television and switched to Norwegian National Television. I wondered what the fuss was about.“Five more minutes,” yelped Jorunn.After a brief introduction, an old black-and-white movie started. Both Jorunn and Leah snuggled up tight against me and I put my arms around them. It felt great. The show, called “Dinner for One”, featured a 90-year-old countess celebrating her birthday. She invited four friends but outlived them all. Her butler decides to impersonate each of the four missing guests. As he slips into each of the roles, he drinks a toast, and quickly becomes intoxicated, leading to numerous sight gags. It felt good to laugh along with people again. It was rather short, and when it ended, Leah told me it was the most repeated television show of all time and is quite popular in Scandinavian countries and northern Europe.Leah and Jorunn went around rearranging and straightening Christmas decorations, then announced it was time to make Julekurver. I heard of them, but never actually made one. Made of paper, they are heart-shaped and filled with sweets.We quickly cleared the dining room table, then covered it with red and white paper, a plastic rule, a plastic circle, and scissor. Leah and Jorunn both moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper of each color, and I followed their action. Then it was time to measure and cut, and fortunately, they slowed down to allow me to keep up. Using a circle, we marked a half circle and cut the excess away. Then cut strips into the paper, not going all the way across. We wove the red and white papers together in a checkerboard pattern and unfolded them into a perfect heart shape. I thought the process rather inefficient and decided to show off my engineering skills from 3M by making a fancier one. As I unfolded it, Jorunn and Leah laughed, and a moment later, I discovered one way not to make a Julekurver.After a long and active day, I was tired, so I went to bed. Both Jorunn and Leah were talking softly in the living room as I drifted off to sleep.A nocturnal visitorDecember 23rd - Just Before MidnightI was startled awake when I heard my bedroom door close, followed by a soft, “Shush!”I listened closely in the total darkness for footsteps and heard someone approach my bed. Leah must be ready to resume what we started back at the hotel! A hand pulled back the covers, and instinctively I slid toward the middle of the bed to make space. Leah slid in next to me and drew the covers back over us.Leah moved and shifted, and a hand found the back of my head. I expected her lips to follow, and they did. Soft and gentle, a wonderful way for my nocturnal visitor to say hello. Leah told me at the hotel she did not want to feel rushed, so there was no urgency. Her lips retreated, and her hand slid down to caress my cheek, as delicate fingers gently stroked me.I reached out and found her left shoulder as Leah faced me, then marveled at the smoothness as my hand traced her arm downward. Approaching her hand, I extended further to touch her hip. I began softly rubbing, but her ass beckoned, and my hand moved to cup and squeeze her firm cheek. My fingers began shooting sensations of warmth, softness, and inner firmness directly to my brain. I pulled Leah tight against me and discovered she was already completely naked.Leah swung her left leg over me and moved to an upright position, straddling my crotch. Beneath my boxer shorts, my erect cock fought for release. Her hand found my cock within its shelter but did not liberate it. Instead, her hand pushed my cock flat against my lower stomach, and she slid forward, trapping it with the swollen outer lips of her pussy. Leah began slowly gyrating, and even through the fabric of my boxers, I felt her pussy lips spreading as they slid along either side of my hidden cock.The hushed sounds of Leah cooing and moaning barely reached my ears, as dampness built between us. I reached up with both hands, found her small breasts, and used my thumbs to tease her nipples to an erection. A heavy breath followed by a long ‘uh. Oh; Ah!’ brought me close to premature orgasm, but this was not what Leah wanted, so I held back.Leah must have sensed I was close. She stopped gyrating, lifted herself, and then began inching herself up my torso. She paused for a moment and sat on my chest, then her hands reached out to touch my face. Two fingertips began touring my facial features as if Leah wanted to memorize every feature of my face. In the darkness, my senses heightened, her fingers swirled, and circled, and glided over me. I never would have imagined how erotic it felt.Leah resumed moving higher, her knees passing over my shoulders until they rested on either side of my head. I reached up to confirm what lay just inches above my face and grazed the same hairy splendor I sampled back at the hotel. Inhaling deeply, I picked up traces of the same body wash on her thighs. I was ready to dive back in, so I reached up and grabbed Leah’s hips, then pulled her pussy down toward my awaiting tongue. I paused as her short curly hair began painting her scent onto my face. The scent of arousal overpowered my senses. But? Something strange? I froze. The contradiction awoke my twilight dream state.“Why did you stop, Gunnar?” From the darkness came Jorunn’s voice! The dream of Leah's nocturnal visit was replaced by the reality of a beautiful young woman revealing her devotion and desire to this 56 year old guy.I was stunned. I couldn’t reveal the real reason I stopped; was uncertainty. Jorunn’s pussy smelled different than Leah’s! I hadn’t noticed any difference between Leah’s and Jorunn’s tall, fit bodies. If there were any, they were undetectable in the darkness, especially with only my brief exposure to Leah. “I can’t do this with you, Jorunn.” I softly and sincerely spoke.“I want to make love to you tonight, Gunnar. More than anything in the world. Am I not pretty enough? Has not enough time passed since your wife’s funeral? You are the only man in the world I can love to, without fear of being hurt.”“Jorunn, you are an incredibly beautiful woman. For months, I fantasized about holding you in my arms, kissing you, and wishing to be exactly where I am now. But yesterday, I met your mother.”Jorunn asked, “Did she order you not to have sex with me?”I replied, “It’s not that. I think I’m falling in love with Leah. We spent a wonderful day together, and she swept me off my feet. If that love turns out to be mutual, I am prepared to pledge my heart totally to her and her alone. A lifetime commitment, one I will never dishonor. The only reason you and I got this far tonight is that in the darkness and my dream state, I thought you were Leah. I never would have done it otherwise.” But you are a lovely and desirable woman. I respect you and Leah. So much that I cannot be false to either of you. And I cannot dishonor myself, by doing what I know is dishonorable.”Jorunn shifted positions and lay next to me in the bed. In the darkness, Jorunn whispered, “You are so unlike my father. He always put himself first. I was ready to give myself to you tonight. You could have kept quiet and let it happen. Then lied about it to my mother in the morning. But you didn’t. You are a better man than my father ever was, and I know you will make my mother happy. Please don’t be afraid to give her, and yourself, a chance. She really needs someone like you in her life.”I heard a soft sob and reached out to touch Jorunn’s face. She was crying. Jorunn came into my bedroom tonight, looking for someone to love. She didn’t know about Leah and me, or what happened between us at the hotel. I very much doubt her mother would have told her. I admired what Jorunn just did. She was sacrificing her chance at love so that her mother might have one. Jorunn knew that she bore the duty to initiate affection, after so harshly rejecting my romantic advances, last week.Silence followed, before Jorunn finally said, “What you have shown me, Gunnar, is that there are still good men in this world. But I am still afraid to look for them.”I thought back to the day Jorunn and I went sledging. “Remember what you told me at Korketrekkeren? You don’t need to be afraid of looking for a man, Jorunn. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try looking for a man. Promise me that you will push off, just like riding a sledge, and start looking. When you reach the bottom of that scary hill, you will no longer be afraid, and someone you love will be waiting there for you.”“I will, Gunnar. I promise. And thank you.” Jorunn climbed out of my bed and closed the door as she left.Christmas EveDecember 24 - MorningI woke up in the guest room bed. Hearing noises and holiday folk music in the kitchen, I dressed and went downstairs. Leah smiled and said, “God Jul!”, Norwegian's way of saying merry Christmas. Then she made me scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. Afterward, I enjoyed a slice of fruited Christmas Cake with coffee.“Leah, there is something I need to tell you. Jorunn came into my room last night looking for a man to love. In the darkness and my dream state, I thought it was you. It took a moment for me to realize it was Jorunn, and I stopped myself before going too far. Jorunn and I talked, and I confessed my love for you, to her. She understood, and asked that I give that love a chance. I want to do that. I asked Jorunn to no longer be afraid to look for love, and she agreed.”“Thank you for telling me, Gunnar. I have struggled to get Jorunn to go on dates after her father hurt her so badly. You must be a special man to find a place in her heart.”Leah sat down at the table with me, and continued; “I trust Jorunn, and now I trust you. So you will know, I will come to you tonight, bearing a lighted candle.”I said, “That sounds romantic.” My cock jolted to attention, under my trousers. I smiled and winked.Leah replied, “Wait until you see what I will be wearing.” She stood and returned to her baking, as the soft holiday music filled the busy kitchen. Leah's hips softly gyrated to the soft beat as she hummed with the lyrics.Jorunn came down later for breakfast, and after eating, she announced she would be working on edits and voiceovers for her recent videos. Since they were related to Christmas, she wanted to finish them to post them later tonight.Just before lunch, Leah led me back to the television and as we snuggled on the couch, she turned on “Tre Notter til Askepott”, a 1973 Czech reenactment of Cinderella, dubbed into Norwegian. The story was familiar, with Cinderella granted three wishes. It was enjoyable, but the dubbed dialog did not quite match the lips of the actors, so I needed to concentrate on what they were saying. Leah mentioned that this show is so popular in Norway, that storms of protest arose one year when they decided not to broadcast it. They ended up sending it out later in the holiday.Jorunn joined Leah and me for lunch. We ate Risengrynsgrot, which is rice porridge cooked with milk, sugar, and vanilla. We each had a bowl, and hiding in one of the three bowls was an almond. I suspected possible cheating such that I would be the one getting the almond, but as it turned out, Jorunn got the lucky bowl. As her prize, Leah gave Jorunn a chocolate-covered marzipan pig, an oddity for certain, but part of the tradition. There was porridge left over, and Leah said she would use it to make Riskrem, the delicious rice dessert eaten after tonight’s dinner. Solveig’s Riskrem was one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, and I was looking forward to tasting Leah’s.Leah turned to me and said, “If you want to eat, you must help in the kitchen.”Cooking was not something I knew very well, and after Leah led me into the kitchen, I let her know that. But since we were alone, I moved behind her, pulled her blonde hair aside, and nuzzled her neck.Leah said, “If you don’t stop, Gunnar, it will take longer before we eat.” But she wiggled her hips into my crotch before spinning out of my embrace.I helped Leah remove a large roasting pan from the refrigerator and put it in the oven. “That’s a strange-looking piece of meat,” I said.Leah replied, “It is called Ribbe, or roasted pork belly. It is one of the most popular Christmas meals in Norway. I scored the fat layer on top two days ago into a checkerboard pattern. Once cooked, the bottom meat stays tender while the cracklings on top get crispy.”Leah handed me a vegetable peeler and pointed to a bag of potatoes. I needed no further instructions on this. While I worked, Leah flittered around the kitchen, preparing the side dishes. She looked genuinely happy, and we talked and laughed and told tales of Christmases long ago.Just as we pulled the Ribbe from the oven, church bells began ringing from multiple sources. It was 17:00.“It seems like an odd time for church bells,” I said.Leah replied, “In Scandinavia, a new day traditionally starts at sundown, not midnight. Following the old ways, Christmas Day has arrived. It is time to eat.”Jorunn joined us in the mad flurry of activity as places were set, and food moved from the kitchen to the dining room. On the table was Ribbe, boiled potatoes, meatballs, gravy, sausages, sauerkraut, prunes, and lingonberries. Leah poured each of us a tall glass of juleøl, a dark spiced ale, brewed during Christmas all over Norway. She said at one time, a Norwegian king made it illegal to Not brew Christmas Ale. Everything was delicious, and I ate until I could stuff in no more.After dinner, we cleaned up and went into the living room to enjoy coffee, cookies, and a small bowl of Riskrem. I wondered why Leah brought out four bowls of Riskrem. Three topped with whipped cream and a berry sauce, one with only a blob of butter in the middle.Leah said, “We set out a bowl of porridge every Christmas for the fjøsnissen. The tradition evolved from the days when farming families would offer porridge to their barn elf, or nisse. The nisse takes care of the animals in the barn during winter so they don’t get sick. If you don’t do this, the fjøsnissen will play tricks on you.”As we nibbled, Jorunn set the bowl of porridge outside the front door for the fjøsnissen. Then we sat and watched an American Christmas movie on television. After it ended, Leah announced it was time to open the presents. I suspected this would happen and was glad I bought a gift for both Leah and Jorunn. We each dispersed, returned with our packages, and placed them under the Christmas tree.As expected, Leah and Jorunn shared the most gifts for each other, opening the usual mix of chocolates, clothing, and kitchen items. Then Jorunn handed me a gift from her. I opened it and found a DVD labeled, 'Christmas in Norway Tour’, along with a link and instructions to download the video if I preferred. Jorunn told me she made an hour-long video of all the things we did together over the past week, adding music and voiceovers so I would remember the now-completed tour. In exceedingly small letters, at the bottom of the instructions, I saw a link for a story with a similar name and suspected it might be one full of adjectives.Jorunn then opened my gift to her. I remembered the small camera she used this past week and bought her a new top-of-the-line digital camera. From her reaction, I did well.Leah then opened my gift to her. I purchased a genuinely nice Advent star to hang in her window, since she did not have one. It was large and electrically lit and after opening it, she wanted to hang it up right away, which we did. Then we went outside to see how it looked. Leah kissed me and whispered that the Advent Star possessed a special meaning for her this year, a sign of brighter days ahead.Seeing us standing outside, a Julenissen crossed the street and came up to us. The man, dressed in a red jacket with a matching pointed red hat, carried a cloth sack. He was older, and his white beard looked genuine.Jorunn yelled, “God Jul, Julenissen!”As the Julenissen joined us, Leah said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Bjornstad.”The Julenissen opened a small cloth sack, pulled out a straw goat wrapped with red ribbons, and handed it to Jorunn. Leah explained that the Julenissen come around to houses on Christmas Eve to hand out presents and chocolate to the children. Often, more than one Julenissen would knock on your door during the evening. Unlike America, children get to meet the Julenissen in Norway.“It wouldn’t be the same this year without one of your julebukk!” said an excited Jorunn. Mr. Bjornstad had been coming to Jorunn’s house for a long time, and told us he likes to keep alive the old Norse traditions, such as the julebukk. In addition to handing out hand-made gifts, he tells folklore stories and tales from the days of the Vikings. What a wonderful thing to do to preserve the ancient Norse legacy of sagas and storytelling.Leah excused herself as Mr. Bjornstad started telling such a tale to Jorunn and me. He described Valhalla, where Odin and the brave warriors would train by day, and feast on roast boar and ale at night. Leah returned a moment later with four glasses of Aquavit. We toasted the season and sipped our Aquavit with the Julenissen after the story ended. We then sang a Christmas song together.Then we went back inside and watched the DVD that Jorunn made. The tour sounded exciting and full of fun, which indeed, it was. It also gave Leah another chance to see me in action. It was a full evening, and close to 23:00 when the DVD ended. We were all tired, and it was time for bed. Jorunn told us she was going upstairs to take a shower. Leah and I followed her up to our two bedrooms.A Single CandleDecember 24th - Late EveningFive minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Opening it, Leah stood there, holding a single candle, and wearing a lavender-colored silk nightgown and robe set. The half-sleeve wrap robe only partially covered her nightgown, leaving the lace-trimmed bustline and hem of her nightgown exposed. She put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “Shhh!” Then she led me by hand to her bedroom. The only light inside came from her single candle.My eyes quickly adjusted, or perhaps it was just my intent stare, “You look incredible.”Leah
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Do you suffer from insomnia? Struggling to fall asleep at night?This video is for you! In this beautiful and sleepy Scottish poetry video, I'll be sharing bedtime stories to help you sleep better.My stories are music therapy for people with insomnia. They're gentle, calming and beautiful, and they'll help you drift off to sleep. So if you're struggling with insomnia, give these bedtime stories a try!This story is provided courtesy of my wonderful patrons - this story is over a year old, and they've allowed me to share it with you! If you'd like to access 10+ patron-exclusive stories, you can find them on Patreon! :)Let me know how you enjoy it! :)Sam xMake yourself comfortable and relax with this soothing tale.Support me in creating these stories on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/snoozewithsamIf you enjoy these sleep stories, it would mean to world to me if you showed your appreciation and support through my Patreon. This way I can continue to do what I do!Thank you.SamSupport me here: https://www.patreon.com/snoozewithsamListen on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5LJgW_uI99g0ZAA-Yj2azQListen on Amazon Music:https://music.amazon.co.uk/podcasts/40f901d4-2422-424f-9ad8-0a9e34ce86a8/snooze-with-samMusic and visuals are a combination of original productions and/or may include licensed and adapted, remixed, or transformed material from:https://freemusicarchive.org/homehttp://www.epidemicsound.com/https://www.videvo.net/https://www.canva.com/Spatium by Keys of Moon | https://soundcloud.com/keysofmoonMusic promoted by https://www.free-stock-music.comAttribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)Music : "The End of the World" by Tristan Lohengrinwww.tristanlohengrin.comLicensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/These original works are the property of Snooze with Sam, © Copyright 2020-2022. All rights reserved."Snooze with Sam" whispers sleepy stories of Scotland's natural world, all with the help of a soft, soothing Island voice. Lay yourself down, get comfortable and lose yourself in the sea of gentle tones gifted by one of the world's most beautiful countries."Snooze with Sam" is brought to you by Sam Lawson, an entrepreneur, health and fitness professional and lifelong musician from the Isle of Skye. He runs a Coaching business in Glasgow, Scotland, and finds great satisfaction in helping others find peace within themselves, coaching them on towards personal transformation.These original works are the property of Snooze with Sam, © Copyright 2020-2022. All rights reserved.
RU382: SARAH JEZEBEL WOOD ON LOVI ARTES, VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIALS & CREATIVITY AS SELF-CARE Join Rendering Unconscious Podcast at Substack to watch full episodes and access the complete archive: https://renderingunconscious.substack.com Rendering Unconscious episode 382. On this episode, Sarah Jezebel Wood discusses her work with Lovi Artes, focusing on new Valentine's Day offerings, including candles with scents like "Domina" and "Lupercal," and new charm amulets. She shares her journey of starting her candle business, Lovi Artes, during the COVID-19 pandemic, inspired by ancestry and Yule traditions. Wood highlights the evolving nature of her work, which includes performance art and witchcraft. The conversation also touches on the challenges of long winters, the importance of self-care routines, and the impact of social media censorship on artists. https://linktr.ee/sarahjezebel News & events: Monday, February 16th we have a LIVE Rendering Unconscious Podcast event with Drs. Helena Texier and Eve Watson, editors of Freud's Principle Case Studies Revisited: https://renderingunconscious.substack.com/p/you-are-invited-to-a-live-ru-podcast Wednesday, February 18th, we have Mikita Brottman presenting Images from the Id: The Strange World of Psychic Photographer Ted Serios. https://rucenterforpsychoanalysis.substack.com/p/images-from-the-id-the-strange-world If you're in London, I'll be at the Freud Museum in-person Wednesday, February 25th with my husband Carl Abrahamsson for Surreal Secrets of the Psyche: The Creative Zeitgeist of Psychoanalysis, Film and the Avant-Garde. https://www.freud.org.uk/event/surreal-secrets-of-the-psyche-the-creative-zeitgeist-of-psychoanalysis-film-and-the-avant-garde/ Monday, February 23rd Carl Abrahamsson will be in-person at the Viktor Wynd Museum in London presenting Fabulous Freaks of Yesteryear: https://thelasttuesdaysociety.org/exhibition/fabulous-freaks-of-yesteryear-by-carl-abrahamsson-live/ Gary Lachman has a book signing for his new memoir Touched by the Presence at Watkins Books, London on Thursday, February 26th: https://www.watkinsbooks.com/event-details/gary-lachman-touched-by-the-presence Mary Wild has a book signing for Psychoanalysing Horror Cinema at Watkins Books, London on Friday, February 27th: https://www.watkinsbooks.com/event-details/psychoanalysing-horror-cinema-mary-wild Rendering Unconscious is also a book series: Rendering Unconscious: Psychoanalytic Perspectives, Politics & Poetry vols 1:1 & 1:2 (Trapart Books, 2024): https://amzn.to/3N6XKIl The song at the end of this episode is "Any Expression (Gutted)" from the album "Infiltrate" by Vanessa Sinclair and Pete Murphy: https://petemurphy.bandcamp.com/album/infiltrate-21 Infiltrate has been featured on the latest episode of Radio Panik! https://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/l-etranger/show-518-drud-freeform-hemline/ Enjoy! Thank you for being a paid subscriber to Rendering Unconscious Podcast. It makes my work possible. If you are so far a free subscriber, thanks to you too. Please consider becoming a paid subscriber to gain access to all the material on the site, including new, future, and archival podcast episodes. It's so important to maintain independent spaces free from censorship and corporate influence. If you are interested in pursing psychoanalytic treatment with me, please feel free to contact me directly: https://www.drvanessasinclair.net/contact/ Thank You.
This conversation reeks with the funk of gratitude! Gabrielle Calvocoressi's new collection of poetry, The New Economy, was a finalist for the 2025 National Book Award in Poetry. Other collections include The Last Time I Saw Amelia Earhart, Apocalyptic Swing, and Rocket Fantastic, which is the winner of the Audre Lorde Award for Lesbian Poetry. They serve on the Board of Chancellors of the Academy of American Poets and live in Old East Durham, NC, where joy, compassion, and social justice are at the center of their personal and poetic practice.
Czy wyczucie dobrego stylu może być narzędziem władzy? W dzisiejszym odcinku zabiorę Cię do Rzymu za panowania Nerona – świata ociekającego złotem, krwią i absolutnym brakiem gustu. Poznasz historię Gajusza Petroniusza, człowieka, który jako jedyny na dworze tyrana nie posługiwał się strachem, lecz elegancją.Dowiesz się:Dlaczego najpotężniejszy człowiek świata drżał przed opinią swojego „Arbitra”?Co wspólnego ma rzymski esteta z kultową rolą Bogusława Lindy w „Psach”?Jak Petroniusz zamienił własną śmierć w ostatnie, złośliwe arcydzieło wymierzone w cesarza?Dlaczego pieniądze bez smaku robią z nas klaunów, a smak bez pieniędzy – awanturników?To nie jest sucha lekcja historii. To opowieść o tym, jak zachować kontrolę nad własną narracją, gdy świat wokół Ciebie płonie. Wesprzyj mój podcast: Będę wdzięczny za postawienie mi kawy → suppi.pl/lepiejteraz Zostań Mecenasem odcinka→ patronite.pl/podcastlepiejterazŹRÓDŁA:Źródła pierwotneTacyt, „Roczniki” (Annales), Księga XVI, rozdziały 17-20 – główne źródło o życiu i śmierci Petroniusza. Dostępne online w języku angielskim na stronie LacusCurtius (University of Chicago) oraz Poetry in Translation.Pliniusz Starszy, „Historia naturalna”, Księga XXXVII, rozdział 20 – wzmianka o zniszczonym pucharze murryńskim.Petroniusz, „Satyricon” – zachowane fragmenty ksiąg XIV-XVI. Dostępne w polskim przekładzie Mieczysława Brożka (PIW).Źródła cytowane:Opis śmierci Petroniusza: Tacyt, Annales XVI.18-19Charakterystyka Petroniusza: Tacyt, Annales XVI.18List do Nerona: Tacyt, Annales XVI.19Puchar murryński: Pliniusz, Historia Naturalis XXXVII.20Cytat o Sybilli: Petronius, Satyricon 48.8
Clients bring in photos, videos, and artwork—and we love it. It helps us see their world more clearly. But what happens when the sheer volume becomes overwhelming, boundaries get blurry, or we take away something they didn't intend to share?We're taking the couch on the road! Join us between May 9th and May 24th, we'll be heading to 8 Canadian cities for a LIVE episode recording and a chance to connect with other therapists in your area. We hope to see you there! We are going on a cross-Canada tour in May 2026! Keep an eye out for dates! Join us on Patreon for bonus content at www.patreon.com/edgeofthecouch or share your thoughts and questions via DM on Instagram @edgeofthecouchpod, email at connect@edgeofthecouch.com, or voice note at speakpipe.com/edgeofthecouch.We have partnered with Janeapp, an all-in-one practice management software. You can learn more at Jane.app/mentalhealth. Or, if you are ready to get started, mention Edge of the Couch in the note during sign up.Alison McClearywww.alpenglowcounselling.com@alpenglow_counselling on InstagramJordan Pickellwww.jordanpickellcounselling.ca@jordanpickellcounselling on InstagramEdge of the Couchwww.edgeofthecouch.com@edgeofthecouchpod on Instagram
Rebecca talks with pastor and author Dr. Stephen Witmer about why poetry—especially the work of 17th-century priest George Herbert—can deepen our understanding of the gospel. Through Herbert's poems, they explore themes of inadequacy, priesthood, and the imputed righteousness of Christ. Along the way, they discuss why Scripture itself uses poetry and why beauty, metaphor, and imagination matter for Christian faith.Buy Stephen's Book:In All Things Thee to See: A Devotional Guide to Selected Poems of George HerbertUse code IF to receive 30% off your copy of The ‘If' That Changes Everything at thegoodbook.com.Visit MoodyPublishers.com or find The Rekindled Heart wherever books are sold.Find Digital Liturgies wherever books are sold, or visit crossway.org/digitalliturgiesbook to get 30% off with a free Crossway+ account.Watch Us on YouTubeSign up for weekly emails at RebeccaMcLaughlin.org/SubscribeFollow Us on Instagram and XProduced by The Good Podcast Co.
Wisdom historian Deepak Ramola shares a conversation with Abhay how he collects life lessons through lived experiences and art. Deepak reveals why trauma doesn't guarantee wisdom, why procrastination uncovers your deepest values, why deep questions truly matter, and why poetry is peace's love language. He is a Stanford Life Design Fellow, MIT collaborator, TEDx speaker, and founder of Project FUEL. His innovative FUEL methodology—centered on turning personal and social experiences into interactive programs using creative arts—has earned recognition as one of the world's top 100 innovations in education, implemented across five continents. Since age 17, he has shaped this approach through heuristic design, including the Wise Wall Project launched in 2017 to amplify rural and marginalized voices via art and outreach. Chapters00:00 Introduction02:48 Procrastination Reveals Values and as a Science05:50 Productivity Syndrome Trap08:14 Good vs Bad Morality Myth11:44 Sponsor Break - TRAVELOPOD12:42 We Are Each Other's Alarm Clocks16:14 Unlearning for Wisdom20:02 Pain ≠ Automatic Wisdom23:28 Wisdom in Unexpected Places26:19 Sponsor Break - Timberdog27:12 Poetry as Peace Language33:23 Asking Growth Questions37:54 Embody Wisdom Daily38:19 ConclusionCheck out Ash Gondhalekar's authentic and incredibly tasty pizza wizardry for catering and private events in the Bay Area Neil Dandekar creating amazing food experiences with Sea and Sky at Hotel La JollaTRUST ME I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING is brought to you by TRAVELOPOD, with personalized travel support to help you explore the wonders of the world. Start your next journey at vacation.travelopod.comThis episode is also sponsored by RuffRest® , the only dog bed you'll ever need. Go to www.timberdog.com to learn more
Elemental tangents, with poems by Jim Nawrocki, Kay Cash-Smith, and Susan Haroutunian Cunningham.Support the show
It's fascinating: In Colossians 3, Paul commands God's people to use poetry (psalms, hymns and spiritual…
Luisa Muradyan is originally from Odesa, Ukraine and is the author of I Make Jokes When I'm Devastated (Bridwell Press, 2025), When the World Stopped Touching (YesYes Books, 2027), and American Radiance (University of Nebraska Press, 2018). She holds a Ph.D. in Poetry from the University of Houston and won the 2017 Raz/ Shumaker Prairie Schooner Book Prize. Additionally, Muradyan is a member of the Cheburashka Collective, a group of women and nonbinary writers from the former Soviet Union. Additional work can be found at Best American Poetry, the Threepenny Review, Ploughshares, and Only Poems among others. Find more at her website: https://www.luisamuradyan.com/ As always, we'll also include the live Prompt Lines for responses to our weekly prompt. Submit your poems through Submittable by midnight Sunday for a chance to be invited: https://rattle.submittable.com/submit/269309/rattlecast-prompt-poems-online For links to all the past episodes, visit: https://www.rattle.com/page/rattlecast/ This Week's Prompt: Write a Petrarchan, Shakespearean, Spenserian, or Miltonic sonnet. Use an exclamation mark at some point, and don't forget the volta! Next Week's Prompt: Quick! Write a poem that moves fast. Include as many unique verbs as possible. The Rattlecast livestreams on YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter, then becomes an audio podcast. Find it on iTunes, Spotify, or anywhere else you get your podcasts.
Can a few lines of verse actually change how you navigate your hardest days?In this episode, we sit down with Amazon bestselling author Michelle Ayon Navajas to peel back the layers of poetry and life. We often think of poetry as something found in dusty textbooks, but Michelle reminds us that poetry is the language of the human heart—it's how we process grief, celebrate love, and find a rhythm in the chaos of modern living.Whether you're a lifelong reader of verse or someone who hasn't picked up a poem since high school, this conversation will change the way you look at the world around you.In This Episode, We Discuss:The Healing Power of Words: Why poetry is a vital tool for emotional resilience.From Life to Page: How Michelle transforms personal experiences into bestselling collections. Finding Your Voice: Advice for anyone struggling to express their "unspoken" truths. The Modern Muse: How poetry stays relevant in a fast-paced, digital world.About Our GuestMichelle Ayon Navajas is an Amazon bestselling author known for her evocative and soul-stirring poetry. Her work resonates with a global audience, bridging the gap between literary art and the raw, relatable experiences of daily life.
Submitting a poetry manuscript can feel overwhelming, even when the work itself is finished. In this episode, Leo breaks down the key decisions involved in submitting your manuscript, shares strategies for staying organized, and offers thoughtful guidance on how to choose the right places to send your work. Visit thepoetrylab.com to find the Show Notes for this episode. The Poetry Lab Podcast is produced by Danielle Mitchell. With special guest hosts Lori Walker, Leonora Simonovis, Ravina Wadhwani, and Annie Freshwater.
Join us as we introduce our new segment book and bite. Also, celebrate Black History Month with us by honoring your body and your life. Poetry for the soul, stew for the spirit.
Too many of us left high school thinking that a poem could be taken seriously only if it was difficult to understand, subdued in its use of rhyme and alliteration, and addressed lofty topics. Harryette Mullen's saucy, suggestive “LVTOFU” bulldozes through convention, all the while revelling in its own rhythms, references, and humor. We invite you to subscribe to Pádraig's weekly Poetry Unbound Substack, read the Poetry Unbound books and his newest work, Kitchen Hymns, or listen to all our Poetry Unbound episodes. Harryette Mullen is the author of eight books of poetry, including Urban Tumbleweed, Recyclopedia, and Sleeping with the Dictionary, which was a finalist for the National Book Award, the National Book Critics Circle Award, and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. She is Professor of English and African American Studies at the University of California-Los Angeles.Find the transcript for this show at onbeing.org. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
In this episode, I share five core herbs I return to in times of crisis, emotional overwhelm, and uncertainty.
Shuly Xóchitl Cawood teaches writing workshops, doodles with Sharpies and acrylic paint, and is raising two poodles and a dwindling number of orchids. Her books include Something So Good It Can Never Be Enough (Press 53, 2023) and Trouble Can Be So Beautiful at the Beginning (Mercer University Press, 2021), winner of the Adrienne Bond Award for Poetry. Her work has been published in The New York Times, The Sun, and Rattle.Links: Shuly Xóchitl Cawood's website"Poem in Which I Fail to Teach My Dog How to Fetch" at The SunTwo Poems at Have Has HadInterview and four poems at Does It Have PocketsVideo: Cawood reading her poem "You Are Not a Cat"Mentioned in this episode:KnoxCountyLibrary.orgThank you for listening and sharing this podcast. Explore life-changing resources and events, sign up for newsletters, follow us on social media, and more through our website, www.knoxcountylibrary.org.Rate & review on Podchaser
There is a tension in the poet’s longing towards the complete book, wanting not to be too swept up in the commercialism, yet needing some kind of readership to engage with the poems. As poetry has evolved from the utterance from the mouth alone, and has changed and moved with technology over the centuries, consciousness […]
Rev. Nathan Detering and jamele adams, UUAC's beloved poet in residence, led our service on Sunday, February 8, 2026 with a sermon titled, “Fire Melts Ice: Poetry and Preaching.”
This Monday February 9th on KPFA Radio's Women's Magazine Kate Raphael talks with Arlene Eisen about her new memoir In the Worldwide Family of Militant Women. Arlene has been a militant in the struggle against imperialism and white supremacy since the 1960s—first as a protester facing tear gas and later as a teacher and writer. She edited the newspaper called The Movement, and was a leading voice in the anti-imperialist women's movement of the 1970s. At various times as she raised her two sons mostly as a single parent, she was a lecturer in sociology and women's studies, a machinist, a journalist and public health expert. During the first ten years of her children's lives, she was on welfare. In 2012 Arlene Eisen authored the groundbreaking study, Operation Ghetto Storm, published by the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement, which revealed that an unarmed Black person is killed by an agent of the state every 28 hours in the united states. In the Worldwide Family of Militant Women traces Arlene's journey from New York to Berkeley to Vietnam, China, Cuba, and back to San Francisco. She narrates her deep involvement in the Black Freedom struggle, the sixties counterculture, the movements to stop the Vietnam War, to support anti-imperialist struggles from Iran to Puerto Rico people, and the growing importance of feminism in helping her make sense of her own life. In the Worldwide Family of Militant Women is available from Iskra Books. And in the second half of the show Lisa Dettmer talks to composer and Musician Adrienne Torf. Adrienne Torf and her collaborator Raymond O Caldwell have produced an intimate portrait of well known local legendary black feminist and activist scholar, teacher and poet June Jordan by combining her words of fierce commitment to justice and self determination for all people with music and movement. The show, “Poetry for the People: The June Jordan Experience” is being performed in Berkeley for one night only on February 24th at the Freight and Salvage. This show is performed by six actors from the Fountain Theatre, Los Angeles production and Jordan's collaborator and partner, composer/pianist Adrienne Torf. the show features Jordan's poetry, interviews, and other writing, along with her work set to music by Torf, John Adams, and Bernice Johnson Reagon. “Poetry for the People: The June Jordan Experience” was honored with the Theater Washington Helen Hayes Charles MacArthur Award for Outstanding New Play in 2023. This performance on Tuesday February 24th at the Freight and Salvage will be the only one outside of Los Angeles this year. *Premium tickets include admission to a post-show reception with the cast and sponsors. The post Arlene Eisen memoir on Militant Women and Adrienne Torf on June Jordan show appeared first on KPFA.
Masterpiece Podcasts: Collection of Chinese Classic Novels
This week, we share a "Space for God" devotional offered by Drew Masterson (Center for Christian Study) back in 2022. He guides us into a deep insight shared by many artists, neuroscientists, and the Apostle Paul: that the things we pay attention to profoundly shape our lives. I invite us to take a "Contemplative Audit" of our lives before concluding with a powerful musical and poetic reflection on the Christ Hymn in Colossians 1 by Alana Levandoski, featuring poetry by Malcolm Guite, Scott Cairns, Joel McKerrow, and Luci Shaw.View Our Complete Archive of “Space for God” Prayer PracticesLearn More About Spiritual Direction through Coracleinthecoracle.org | @inthecoracleSupport the showFor the Journey is a resource of the Coracle Center of Formation for Action and is made possible through the generous support of men and women across the globe.
664. Part 1 of our interview with Zella Palmer about the influence of African cooking on creole cuisine. The Story of New Orleans Creole Cooking: The Black Hand in the Pot. She is also the author of Recipes and Remembrances of Fair Dillard, 1869-2019. Zella, educator, food historian, author, and filmmaker, serves as the Chair and Director of the Dillard University Ray Charles Program in African-American Material Culture. Palmer is committed to preserving the legacy of African-American, Native American, and Latino culinary history in New Orleans and the South. Palmer curated The Story of New Orleans Creole Cooking: The Black Hand in the Pot academic conference and documentary, the Nellie Murray Feast, and the Dr. Rudy Joseph Lombard: Black Hand in the Pot Lecture Series. Now available: Liberty in Louisiana: A Comedy. The oldest play about Louisiana, author James Workman wrote it as a celebration of the Louisiana Purchase. Now it is back in print for the first time in 222 years. Order your copy today! This week in the Louisiana Anthology. "The City that Lives Outdoors," by W. S. Harwood. For at least nine months in the twelve, the people of this rare old town live out of doors nearly all the waking hours of the twenty-four. For the remaining three months of the year, December, January, and February, they delude themselves into the notion that they are having a winter, when they gather around a winter-time hearth and listen to imaginary wind-roarings in the chimney, and see through the panes fictitious and spectral snow-storms, and dream that they are housed so snug and warm. But when the day comes the sun is shining and there is no trace of white on the ground, and the grass is green and there are industrious buds breaking out of cover, and the earth is sleeping very lightly. Open-eyed, the youngsters sit by these December firesides and listen to their elders tell of the snow-storms in the long ago that came so very, very deep, when snowballs were flying in the streets, and the earth was white, and the 'banquettes,' or sidewalks, were ankle-deep in slush. This week in Louisiana history. February 7, 2010. New Orleans Saints win their very first Super Bowl and finish the year at 14-3. This week in New Orleans history. Born in New Orleans on February 6, 1944, Wilson Turbinton (known as Tee and Willie Tee) arranged, co-wrote and led the band on the Wild Magnolias' self-titled 1974 debut album. The popularity of that recording, and the subsequent They Call Us Wild introduced the Mardi Gras Indians' street-beat funk to the world. This week in Louisiana. Courir de Mardi Gras in Eunice Downtown Eunice Eunice, LA 70535 February 14, 2026 Website: eunice-la.com Email: info@eunice-la.com Phone: (337) 457-7389 The Courir de Mardi Gras is one of Louisiana's oldest and most distinctive Mardi Gras traditions, featuring masked riders on horseback, live Cajun and Zydeco music, and a community gumbo that brings the whole town together: The Chicken Run: Costumed riders chase a released chicken through the countryside, a hallmark of the old Cajun Mardi Gras. Live Music: Downtown Eunice hosts day‑long performances by Cajun and Zydeco bands. Traditional Gumbo: Ingredients gathered during the courir are used to prepare a communal gumbo served in the evening. Postcards from Louisiana. Florida Street Blowhards at LSU. Listen on Apple Podcasts. Listen on audible. Listen on Spotify. Listen on TuneIn. Listen on iHeartRadio. The Louisiana Anthology Home Page. Like us on Facebook.
TheWanderingPaddy Poetry - The Book of Truths. Out Now on Amazon. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Today, the podcast gets to Wang Wei and a Buddhist poem he wrote with the eye of a painter. Wang Wei is the least popular of the three High Tang poets, at least, since the Song Dynasty, but, back in the day, he was the most popular, more popular than Li Bai and Du Fu. We'll travel to his empty mountain and see if we aren't too disturbed by women doing the laundry to learn a bit about Chinese poetry. Living in the Mountains on the Cusp of Fall Empty mountain after a new rain, The air is late, fall is coming The bright moon shines amid the pines, the clear stream's water flows over a rock. Hubbub in the bamboo, the washing lady returning the fishing boat pushing through lotuses. And then it happens that the flowers of spring die, Me, a hermit, I can hang here for a while. 山居秋暝 空山新雨後，天氣晚來秋。 明月松間照，清泉石上流。 竹喧歸浣女，蓮動下漁舟。 隨意春芳歇，王孫自可留。
What is there to say or do when the life of a loved one has been upended and devastated? Stewart Henderson's poem “How To Speak Love In A Storm?” offers a tender masterclass in how you can accompany someone — or even just yourself — through a time of tumult and pain. We invite you to subscribe to Pádraig's weekly Poetry Unbound Substack, read the Poetry Unbound books and his newest work, Kitchen Hymns, or listen to all our Poetry Unbound episodes. Stewart Henderson is a Liverpool-born, best-selling poet, song lyricist, and award-winning broadcaster. He has published over a dozen poetry collections, including A Poet's Notebook: with new poems, obviously (2018), Urban Angel (2000), and Assembled in Britain (1986). Henderson has also authored three volumes of poetry for children, with poems from those books included on the UK National Education Curriculum. He hosted the program Questions, Questions on BBC Radio 4 for eight years. Find the transcript for this show at onbeing.org. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Ocean Vuong, poet, essayist, novelist, educator, and photographer, joins PhotoWork with Sasha Wolf for an in-depth conversation about his solo photography exhibition Sõng and the accompanying photobook, presented at CPW. In this episode, Vuong reflects on storytelling across mediums, creative practice, and the discipline behind writing and photography. Drawing from his life experience, he speaks candidly about process, vulnerability, and the courage required to share work publicly. This episode offers grounded insight for artists who question their creative voice or the value of presenting their work. https://www.oceanvuong.com/ https://cpw.org/exhibition/song/ Writer, professor, and photographer Ocean Vuong is the author of On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, winner of the American Book Award, The Mark Twain Award, and The New England Book Award. The novel debuted for six weeks on The New York Times bestseller list and has since sold more than a million copies in 41 languages. A nominee for the National Book Award and a recipient of a MacArthur "Genius" Grant, he is also the author of the poetry collections, Time is a Mother, a finalist for the Griffin prize, and Night Sky with Exit Wounds, a New York Times Top 10 Book, winner of the T.S. Eliot Prize, the Whiting Award, the Thom Gunn Award. Selected by Time magazine as one of its 100 Rising Cultural Influencers, Vuong's writings have been featured in The Atlantic, Granta, Harpers, The Nation, New Republic, The New Yorker, The New York Times, Paris Review, The Village Voice, and American Poetry Review, which awarded him the Stanley Kunitz Prize for Younger Poets. Born in Saigon, Vietnam and raised in Hartford, Connecticut in a working class family of nail salon and factory laborers, he was educated at nearby Manchester Community College before transferring to Pace University to study International Marketing. Without completing his first term, he dropped out and enrolled at Brooklyn College, where he graduated with a BA in Nineteenth Century American Literature. He subsequently received his MFA in Poetry from NYU. He currently splits his time between Western Massachusetts and New York City, where he serves as a Professor in Modern Poetry and Poetics in the MFA Program at NYU.
Dante Micheaux's rich and rollicking poem “Theologies for Korah” is written on the occasion of an infant's baptism, but it's anything but baby talk or bland instruction. Religious figures, rites, and symbols are proffered, not as liturgy or lore to be swallowed whole, eyes shut, but as people, stories, and ideas that cry out to be seen, played with, and engaged with. We invite you to subscribe to Pádraig's weekly Poetry Unbound Substack, read the Poetry Unbound books and his newest work, Kitchen Hymns, or listen to all our Poetry Unbound episodes. Dante Micheaux is the author of Circus, which won the Four Quartets Prize from the Poetry Society of America and the T. S. Eliot Foundation, and Amorous Shepherd. His poems and translations have appeared in African American Review, The American Poetry Review, Callaloo, Literary Imagination, Poem-A-Day, Poetry, and Tongue, among other journals and anthologies. Micheaux's other honors include the Oscar Wilde Award, an Amy Clampitt Residency, the Ambit Prize, and a fellowship from The New York Times Foundation. He is a Fellow and Artistic Director at Cave Canem Foundation. Micheaux's most recent work is the libretto, Sky in a Small Cage.Find the transcript for this show at onbeing.org. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
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