carringtonrj
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Centaur - 1. Centaur

Dedicated to one who sees Centaurs all the time. x

You cannot see him, because your common sense, your rational hold, will not let you acknowledge his existence. You keep your distance from such things, preferring your irony and your chic indifference. But he is real; he is beautiful; he is beyond. Imagine.

Imagine having a horse’s body springing from a man’s. The muscular, thriving, sleek, stunning power of that horse-self is absolute, unremitting. The long, fine, stretching legs pound the earth with sure insistence. How those haunches shift – dark slabs of fibre, clenched then released, clenched then released. A rump like a heft of sun, like a giant fist, like a globe of earthly essence, heaves behind him, thrusting his majesty forward. He is energy, magnificence, pride, life.

He is a centaur.

His home is in these wild, turbulent forests. This land is undulating, hillish, busy with form and shape. In vast declivities, chestnut, oak, beach and maple grow, together, various, textured. There are sharp, rocky cliffs and smooth river valleys here; there are little knolls, crowned with firs, big peaks, girthed with laburnum and pine. Everything here is abundant, green, shaggy, vigorous, rich. The great green surge of spring into summer comes here like a stunning tide of vibrant life. In the tangled, messy undergrowth, a thousand creatures find their niches. Everything teems.

And the centaur is of this place; he belongs here; he is part of all that he encounters; he is the soul of this grand wooded land. Look where he strides – four pillars, four lightning flashes uplifting him thorough the ampleness of the scene.

His face is a swathe, an elegance, a handsome, slender streak of dignity. His dark, brooding eyes, look benignly, enquiringly on all that they see. He is curious. His long, flowing mane of hair feminises him, softens, elongates, lightens his defiance. He sways and flows.

He has a man’s slender, taut, athletic torso, a smooth, lust-inducing body, etched delicately with curving, shapely lines. His broad chest juts out bigly. But he is slinky, syrupish, supple and delicate, spare, lyric-like, beautiful.

The horse him and the man him are in harmony, balanced, wavering, shimmering, morphing, conversing. He operates on the line, is always in between states, always both human and animal, always in parts, but always combined, always in tune with his duality. He is both.

Ask him how it feels, and he will struggle to tell you, because he cannot know how it feels to be merely you, but if we decode his language, translate his mysterious pronouncements, we might, rather brashly, rather awkwardly assert something like this: when a man has an erection, a huge, bigger-than-he-has-ever-known hard on, and he feels out of control, pulled and dragged by this massive thing in front of him, in the power of the upright, throbbing, stiff cock, he begins to know how the centaur feels all the time, all the time.

Yes, that is a crude, ugly analogy, but it approximates the gross, erotic, animal truth of centaurism: a centaur is on, all the time.

Now, you might begin to wonder if this centaur of ours is some kind of strutting fool, a creature so pleased with itself that he will constantly seek to lord it over his fellows, that he will look down upon the rest of us, dismiss us, belittle us, tread upon us.

And this is vital: the centaur knows no supremacy; he is no demigod; he feels no power over others, over the world. His power is a mutual, conversing, involving power. He is in tune with his forest, his fellows, his everything. He breathes in deeply and feels all the earth’s simple energy flood into his blood, and he accepts this, loves this, lives this. The centaur is a lover, not a lord.

He loves the trees, the leaves, the sap, the twists in the bark, the crooked turns in the twigs, the whole tree, its lofty aspiration towards light. He loves the animals that thrive in the woods: the badgers skulking in their lair; the foxes mapping the terrain; the small fry scurrying hither and yon. He takes account of all this, adjusts himself to fit with it, meets it on terms of acceptance and approval. He loves his world and it loves him.

Mostly, he loves the sun, flourishes in it, leans towards it, basks in it, grows for it, with it, at it. He is of the sun. His days are long; he is burnished, tempered, kissed with blushing health, touched by beaming life. He lives his days out there, in the air, under the sun.

Such grace, such self-awareness, but also such availability, such orientation towards the other, such readiness to learn and understand and welcome. See how he inclines his head to hear what you say.

The centaur, of course, like all things of the imagination, is queer. He goes across, cuts athwart, transgresses, transfers. He is at an angle to the dull, solid world. He is galloping in a direction that cannot be quite comprehended; he is racing towards the other, the marvellous, the exotic. He is not confined, is not restrained, is not travelling in straight lines. He is queer.

See how he loves his fellows, his centaur brothers; see how he caresses their luxurious beauty; see how he kisses, embraces, touches, finds his lovers. He goes at love, with power and tenderness and exuberance. He ruts, tups, routs his lovers. He holds them in the light of his loving gaze; he takes them into his safe, strong arms; he does for them all that they want and need; he does them with drive and abandon. He pleasures every sense, every place, every desire of his lovers. He knows how to hit the heart; he knows how to excite; he knows how to love. He is lust made flesh; he is lust become love.

You should see him; you should know him; you should dare to encounter the centaur, the dashing, flashing, lady-like man; the hurtling, steaming, champing beast. His hooves are his manner: they are right, right against the ground; they do their work with absolute assurance, with complete, careful insistence; with sheer love. You should hear him approaching, smell his earthy, musky, pepperish scent, feel his hot breath on your flesh, taste his cinnamon kisses to your mouth. You should know the centaur, for then he will care to know you.

Please respond. :)

 

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Chapter Comments

I will never look at or think of this mythical creature in the same way again. What a beautiful descriptive read. Great piece of work. Makes me want to re-read again.:)

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On 07/19/2012 04:59 AM, joann414 said:
I will never look at or think of this mythical creature in the same way again. What a beautiful descriptive read. Great piece of work. Makes me want to re-read again.:)
Thank you so much for your comments. So nice to get a warm feedback like yours. You're a star. x

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0.0 Can I have a centaur now? ;) JK, but what a fabulous piece of writing, though Narnia will always have changed in my mind :D Thanks for another great read!

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At Last! A new creature to add to my fantasies. And all because you made prose read like poetry. Thanks You.

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Wow, hot. I loved the flow. Poetry can trip me up but this so fluid, almost seemless. Did I mention that it was hot??? Where can I get one? ;)

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On 07/19/2012 11:46 PM, K.C. said:
Wow, hot. I loved the flow. Poetry can trip me up but this so fluid, almost seemless. Did I mention that it was hot??? Where can I get one? ;)
Thanks for reading KC. So glad to get a response from you. This was fun to write. And Centaurs are there: you just have to look really, really carefully!

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On 07/19/2012 10:21 AM, stanollie said:
At Last! A new creature to add to my fantasies. And all because you made prose read like poetry. Thanks You.
thanks for reading and responding. so nice to get a positive response to something i've written. thanks so much.

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On 07/19/2012 09:42 AM, MuddyRiverGirl said:
0.0 Can I have a centaur now? ;) JK, but what a fabulous piece of writing, though Narnia will always have changed in my mind :D Thanks for another great read!
thanks for reading. a centaur is on its way to you as you read this. keep your eyes peeled!

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Prose in poetic motion...well done, carringtonrj :thumbup:

 

From beginning to end I’ve read – enthralled – able to see, touch, smell, hear and feel our Centaur and his whereabouts...

 

One coherent, beautifully woven tapestry of sheer joy and ecstacy to be encountered only in the wild and greenwoods of our minds...

 

And then this passage, “The muscular, thriving, sleek, stunning power of that horse-self is absolute, unremitting. The long, fine, stretching legs pound the earth with sure insistence. How those haunches shift – dark slabs of fibre, clenched then released, clenched then released. A rump like a heft of sun, like a giant fist, like a globe of earthly essence, heaves behind him, thrusting his majesty forward. He is energy, magnificence, pride, life.”

 

And no, I beg to disagree, you did not use a “...crude, ugly analogy...” You’ve conveyed the image honestly and crowned with truth :)

 

What a magnificent and vivid-visual word-painting the following passage happens to reveal, “See how he loves his fellows, his centaur brothers; see how he caresses their luxurious beauty; see how he kisses, embraces, touches, finds his lovers. He goes at love, with power and tenderness and exuberance. He ruts, tups, routs his lovers. He holds them in the light of his loving gaze; he takes them into his safe, strong arms; he does for them all that they want and need; he does them with drive and abandon. He pleasures every sense, every place, every desire of his lovers. He knows how to hit the heart; he knows how to excite; he knows how to love. He is lust made flesh; he is lust become love...

 

Thank you for sharing, carringtonrj – I love it :music:

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On 03/12/2013 08:05 AM, Rano said:
Prose in poetic motion...well done, carringtonrj :thumbup:

 

From beginning to end I’ve read – enthralled – able to see, touch, smell, hear and feel our Centaur and his whereabouts...

 

One coherent, beautifully woven tapestry of sheer joy and ecstacy to be encountered only in the wild and greenwoods of our minds...

 

And then this passage, “The muscular, thriving, sleek, stunning power of that horse-self is absolute, unremitting. The long, fine, stretching legs pound the earth with sure insistence. How those haunches shift – dark slabs of fibre, clenched then released, clenched then released. A rump like a heft of sun, like a giant fist, like a globe of earthly essence, heaves behind him, thrusting his majesty forward. He is energy, magnificence, pride, life.”

 

And no, I beg to disagree, you did not use a “...crude, ugly analogy...” You’ve conveyed the image honestly and crowned with truth :)

 

What a magnificent and vivid-visual word-painting the following passage happens to reveal, “See how he loves his fellows, his centaur brothers; see how he caresses their luxurious beauty; see how he kisses, embraces, touches, finds his lovers. He goes at love, with power and tenderness and exuberance. He ruts, tups, routs his lovers. He holds them in the light of his loving gaze; he takes them into his safe, strong arms; he does for them all that they want and need; he does them with drive and abandon. He pleasures every sense, every place, every desire of his lovers. He knows how to hit the heart; he knows how to excite; he knows how to love. He is lust made flesh; he is lust become love...

 

Thank you for sharing, carringtonrj – I love it :music:

thanks so much for your lovely feedback. really made my day. :)

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"The centaur is a lover, not a lord."

RJ that was simply fantastic. Your prose is poetic as it is concise -- the juxtaposition of long, flowing sentences brimming with vividity and short, almost scientific lines made paragraphs especially dramatic. You describe the Centaur as such an awestrikingly, alluring, amazing creature -- I felt like he was staring at me intently through the screen while melting into scenes of forests and sunlight while I read it the entire time! Despite the complexity of your words none of the piece felt a tad bit purple.

Keep it up RJ!!!

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On 03/12/2013 04:11 PM, Luc Rosen said:
"The centaur is a lover, not a lord."

RJ that was simply fantastic. Your prose is poetic as it is concise -- the juxtaposition of long, flowing sentences brimming with vividity and short, almost scientific lines made paragraphs especially dramatic. You describe the Centaur as such an awestrikingly, alluring, amazing creature -- I felt like he was staring at me intently through the screen while melting into scenes of forests and sunlight while I read it the entire time! Despite the complexity of your words none of the piece felt a tad bit purple.

Keep it up RJ!!!

Thank you so much. It means a lot to get such lovely feedback. Really cheered me up on a cold, gloomy day! As to where you can get one, well ... I've been sworn to secrecy!

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First word that came to my mind after I finished is "Holy Shit!". This is amazing. I knew you write really really well. But this was... amazing! Your words flows, in every sense of the word. It's lyrical, it's fluid, it transcends mere words to vivid images. Seriously: :worship:

 

By the way, I have tried Poetic Prose for my Spring Anthology. So, from personal experience, it know it's very very difficult. I looked for examples on the net but couldn't find any good one. If I had read Centaur before, I might have been more inspired. Because it's the best Poetic Prose I have read till date.

 

I'm just so glad to have read this... I feel like giving you a hug. Oh drat, I will! :hug:

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On 03/13/2013 08:55 AM, Ieshwar said:
First word that came to my mind after I finished is "Holy Shit!". This is amazing. I knew you write really really well. But this was... amazing! Your words flows, in every sense of the word. It's lyrical, it's fluid, it transcends mere words to vivid images. Seriously: :worship:

 

By the way, I have tried Poetic Prose for my Spring Anthology. So, from personal experience, it know it's very very difficult. I looked for examples on the net but couldn't find any good one. If I had read Centaur before, I might have been more inspired. Because it's the best Poetic Prose I have read till date.

 

I'm just so glad to have read this... I feel like giving you a hug. Oh drat, I will! :hug:

hey, thanks so much for this comment. it makes me feel really good. and hugs are always welcome. :)

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