Love & Passion

It's that day again! The day so many of us claim to hate because of its corporate associations. A day filled with red and pink, hearts and roses, naked cherubim and the hope that something fantastically romantic will pop out of nowhere and take us by surprise.

Perhaps it was my parents and their love of celebration that made this day special for me as a child. I always woke up to something bright, shiny, and heart-shaped on the breakfast table. It was exciting! Now, as an adult, I always try to make Valentine's Day fun and whimsical. It just feels like a perfect excuse to celebrate, and to express love!

So today at The Veillee we've decided to dive into the theme of love and passion, and have gathered some poems for the occasion. Love has many forms, and though, according to some, we can thank Chaucer and those crazy troubadours of the middle ages for linking Valentine's Day with Romantic love, it's often good to think about what truly makes our hearts beat. What is it that gets us out of bed every day? What, or who, makes our world spin? The following poems deal with just that, and we're thrilled to feature them here on this special day!

XO!

Em

The Nape of Your Neck

By Jessica Pherson

My favorite part of you

My lips fit right in

So soft and tender

So delicate and sweet

The perfume outpouring

From such a small spot

I could look at it forever

My nose happily ingrained

Into that little

Nape of your neck

THE WORK

By Catherine Pherson

Crisp white blouse, navy pleats of skirt
Hair waves of liquid amber
Patiently waiting to swallow the bitter brew
Joyful singing and guitars
Musical prayer

Give me strength, give me love, give me light

Scent of flowers, sound of the heart of the forest
Blazing light behind the eyes
Joining of prayers for the voyage heavenward
Asking God to use this
Lump of clay

Others arriving, auras of rainbow all around
Flitting the periphery
Quickening heartbeat, sweet anticipation
Shine Your light through me
To lead them home

Black pours in, obliterating everything
All energy flowing away
So much suffering, so much unbearable pain
How can it possibly
Be healed

Give me strength, give me love, give me light

Trembling, shaking with the force of beings
Lost in eternal darkness
Terrified of retribution, craving forgiveness
Seeking the holy light
In blind hope

The light is the way, no ferocity will prevail
Only humility and love
Beautiful, loving light beams shining out
From fissures in the heart
Follow them

All of us together in a boat on the sea
Sailing toward
An unknown shore, an uncertain destiny
Fear not, for the Lord
Is with us

Give me strength, give me love, give me light

Body collapsed in exhaustion, mind numb
Filled with gratitude
For the opportunity to serve God, brothers and sisters
Thanks for all good gifts
Amen

Mesmerized
By Jessica Pherson

Mesmerized
That’s how you leave me
I don’t know how else to say it
I don’t know how it happened

That night
Not so long ago
Who would’ve thought?
Not I

We shocked ’em all, babe
None more than I
I think you felt just as surprised
As I did

Look at us now
No more coat check for us
No more sleepless nights
Unless we’re star gazing
So much anticipation
So much on the way
It’s only just beginning
And I’m glad I got you

For now let’s just get cozy
For now let’s just relax
For now let’s just try to enjoy it
And hope that it always lasts

Embrace

By Jessica Pherson

I knew it wasn’t over

But I’d thought I’d gotten close

But then I had to see you

And had to be caught in your embrace

I wasn’t expecting it

I wasn’t expecting it to be so grand

I didn’t want to let you go

I could’ve devoured you right there

But, it wouldn’t have been right

No, we’re not allowed

But, you told me you loved me

And you told me how much you missed me

And that was enough

And I was left

Satisfied

By your words

Your embrace was so perfect

I could’ve held you forever

I’ll never forget it

Like all the other special moments we’ve had

The butterflies I’ve caught in my net

But, had to set free

Catherine Pherson was born in California and raised mainly in North Carolina. A theatrical actress by trade, she has performed in many shows, including Lettuce and Lovage, The Mousetrap, and Master Class. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, Rob, and is mother to Jessica and Mallory and grandmother to Lily and April. 

Jessica Pherson is one of the Founders of The Veillee and author of her own blog, Healthy Mommy, Healthy Baby. She works from home part time for an eco-friendly jewelry company/retailer and is also a stay-at-home mom to Lily. 

Read more about Catherine Pherson and Jessica Pherson on The Matchbox!

Only Anarchist (Avengers) Are Pretty

Greetings Veillee people! We're excited to hear your feedback on today's submission. It's a dreamy little tale, which will have all you artist-trapped-in-office types cheering from your cubicles. 

The weekend is nearly here. Until then, let Kacy Muir sweep you away from your desk and that creepy boss of yours. Just make sure he or she is not hovering over your shoulder...

Only Anarchist (Avengers) Are Pretty

by Kacy Muir

Sharon dreamt the night before. An apocalyptic fairytale with people running out of a building in droves, steadfast and opposite the direction she had been.

When she woke, she felt satisfied. It was 6:45 A.M. on Friday – the only day the office was given permission to dress casually.

Sharon traded in her usual dress and suit attire for something she was comfortable in– something the old Sharon would not punch her in the face for wearing — a gray sweater covering an O.A.A.P. handmade shirt, black jeans, and Doc Martin boots.

Sharon sat at her desk, directly in front of a large office. The door to the office was closed but within the room she heard her boss muted by a woman with a cackling laugh–the kind of laugh that could draw blood.

She blotted her lips in boredom, making a popping sound that echoed throughout the office.

As Sharon rotated in her chair, she passively spent the day thinking about getting out of this place. She became someone she never thought she would– a yes girl to everyone but herself.

She spent most of her days saying yes to her slimy boss Vinny Spinoza – doing all the deeds necessary to keep her job as his executive assistant. But there were some things she was not willing to do.

His advances and his all-too-uncomfortable stares had grown to not just upset her, but to create this notion that the only way he could be stopped was to end him for good. As if she had been some feminine avenger and he, Doctor Arthur Light — entrapping her in darkness.

Sharon really wanted to tell her boss to go screw. She wanted to dial his pregnant wife and say that her beloved husband, instead of doing over-time, was in fact, doing every two-leg opening in this goddamn place.

Years before, Sharon was using words with vigor. Busy banding with her brothers and sisters in the darkened Corner House as they recited slam poetry back and forth over a pint or two.

Over the years, she turned into a babbling baby. One concerned with the expectation of others. It was a disappointing blow to her creativity, but she had to pay the bills. Without a family or a home to call her own, she was her only source of solace.

But, once that notion inside of her began to develop, she became something so much more. As if in all her post punk glory she was shining with the truth and knowledge that seemed to surpass others around her.

When Sharon walked into the office this morning, she had done so with a purpose unknown to every frantic passerby on the street. But for her, she had every reason in the world to continue ahead.

Today, she would burn this place to the ground and with it, Vinny Spinoza.

Kacy Muir is a freelance writer from Brooklyn, NY by way of New Brunswick, NJ. Her life and travels fill her works with such topics as guerrilla baking, Bruce Springsteen, and searching for the real-life Lloyd Dobler. She has been published in The Weekender, an arts and entertainment magazine and Blood Lotus, an online literary journal. She is currently working on a poetry chapbook about her daily subway travels. Visit her blog, Songs of Sirens, to read more of Kacy's work.

Read more about Miss Muir at The Matchbox.

Something to Savor

We hope you all enjoyed your weekends. Ours were filled with family functions, Marilyn Monroe flicks, all night partying, and what Em described as "the best Superbowl party ever." Sa-weeet. 

As we informed you in our last post, we will now be posting on Tues and Thurs in order to give you readers more time to savor these lovely works. This is subject to change depending on how many submissions we start to receive. And today's post is definitely something to savor, with a melodic poem from artist-extraordinaire Jessica Licciardello. Enjoy and please leave feedback, thanks!

We Are The Birds of Light

by Jessica Licciardello

Bring forth holding flag of life

come from above with God spirit shine

with this message is known kind

this truth known while underway

threadbare withers and torn

not for us that destiny bechose

did not create the bird of prey

which did come to being 

a hellish tool did make

not similar, nothing same

seen it now our course

fashioned with love the word

the comfort of this known be

will bring us our time

for we are the birds of light

we will have our home

original artwork by Jessica Licciardello

Jessica Licciardello is an artist and illustrator that has been drawing and painting since childhood. She earned a BA Degree in Studio Art and Art History from Marist College in New York, and she is now based in Montclair, New Jersey. Her unique style and visual techniques capture the essence of color, texture and thought provoking composition. Her inspiration is drawn from her experiences in life, art, music, reflecting time spent in nature roaming the land of the Hudson Valley, and the abundantly fruitful landscapes of the Garden State. This is her first published poem.

Learn more about Jessica and her work at Saatchionline.com and at her gallery's Facebook page.

Schedule Change!

Hi all!

SO -- we just wanted to give everyone a heads up about the change in our posting schedule. Though we started out with a bang, we'd like to take things down a notch and spend more time savoring our submissions. (This actually means that we're trying to give people more time to read and comment. PLEASE COMMENT!)

Starting next week, we will be posting only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Please do stop by and take a look at our new offerings. We gurantee they'll be cool.

For now, here's the internet's standard picture blogs featuring hot guys and girls reading. What more could you want on a Saturday afternoon? You're welcome.

http://hotgirlsreading.tumblr.com/

http://hotguysreadingbooks.tumblr.com/

Love,
Jess and Em

February Call for Submissions

Thank you all for all your support and feedback during the first three weeks of our little blog's launch. All comments and words of encouragement are all greatly appreciated and taken into account! We hope you will continue to visit for future posts, and catch up on any of the quality posts you may have missed.

This month we're still looking for submissions, and the suggested them is: passion! We'd love for you to write about your personal passion -- whatever that may be -- or about passion in general. It doesn't need to be "sexy passion" (unless you want it be!), just anything that drives you or a character in a story, poem, play, etc. Also, with February being Black History Month, and the month of Valentine's Day, feel free to share something related to either of those themes. A poem in support of equality...divulge on your first kiss...an ode to the love of your life...a tribute to an inspiring African-American...the possibilities are endless! By no means does your submission need to coincide with these ideas, they are merely suggestions intended to invoke inspiration.

Send all submissions, comments and inquiries to veilleesubmissions@gmail.com.  We want to hear from you and put your writing on The Veillee! What are you waiting for?