Want.

What is it we think we want? It is different things for different people. Some want the American Dream; house, kids, SUV in the driveway, big screen TV, and a manicured lawn. This fly buzzing and beating it’s wings against the window wants to find it’s way outside, and after an hour or so, it will finally fly out into the morning through a small crack in the window frame. The elderly lady with big ears and a checkered shirt at the counter wants a Jelly Stick and a coffee to go, and inexplicably I want to wrap her into a hug and smile into her face.

My internet was down folks, so I couldn’t get this post up until this morning. I wanted to get it up sooner, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?

Let’s start with The Wandering Author

Want was all Michael had ever known, the one thing he understood. It was a mixture of cold and hunger seasoned with fear. Watching his brothers and sisters turn hairless and thin as sticks, seeing his mother’s dull eyes follow them as she slowly wasted away, every cell of his body crying out in want, he was the last of his family. He died alone, surrounded by their bodies. All the while, mocking the want that consumed him, food left Ireland’s shores to feed the demands of mercantilism. Experts agreed with the British politicians such inhumanity was the best decision.

Fiction Scribe

Want. Need. Lust after. Desire.

Such delicious words for such an often unpleasant thing. Want. Everyone wants. That’s all they seem to do sometimes. Want a hand, your time, your opinion, your money, your space, your reference, your last piece of the death by chocolate cake.

All I want is some peace and quiet.

Maybe some time to relax as well. With a magazine and a bubble bath. Kiwi and apple scented bubble bath. And candles. A lot of scented candles around so I can read and relax. Enjoy.

That sounds nice.

So maybe want isn’t such an unpleasant thing.

Secret Agent Mama gives us a twofer.

Sometimes what we want isn’t what we have, and sometimes what we have isn’t what we need.

Sometimes what we need isn’t what want, and sometimes what want isn’t what we can have.

Sometimes what we have isn’t what we need, and sometimes what we need isn’t what we want.

—————————————————-

I often feel tiny, invisible, a speck of dust. Like I could blow away and it wouldn’t even matter; I’d just join all the other particles floating around in a void, a blurry haze. I want to feel huge, discernible, a precious metal. I just want to matter to you.

LCeel

In the city, the thin wail of the baby echoes around the small room. He was born drug addicted and he is hungry. There is no food and his mother is dry. He was born to it.

In the countryside, a starving young woman whose baby has died drags herself to the Free Clinic, hoping to find food. She has had it thrust upon her.

In the mountains, the old miner is slowly dying of black lung disease. Since the mines closed up, he can’t afford care. It just wasn’t anything he expected.

Given a name, the ‘it’ is Want.

Judith Shakespeare. You might want to grab a towel or open a window first.

(Want in 100 Words)

The honey drips softly, sweetly,

thick and heavy from your lips.

I taste your breath but briefly,

and suckle at the delicacy you boldly deign to offer.

All that is elegance and beauty, your hands quick to roam…

Smug in their discovery:

content with these small indulgences of their own.

You smile as you taste my shame.

I labor against your hold.

I bloom, blush, unfurl…

Speaking softly to your hips, I grow bold.

You press closer and smile your knowledge.

I quietly sob, rage, then soften.

I taste of you and you of me-

The honey all but forgotten.

Sassy Mama Bear has a new blog just for writing! Go check it out.

To want.

To need.

How do we know the difference between the two?

I want to know happiness, to never feel afraid.

I want to feel secure, to know the world is not falling apart around me.

I want much.

Yet, what do I need?

I need true love, wait I have that.

I need unconditional love, wait I have that too.

I need much, and yet it seems I have these things.

So I return to want.

What to want?

I want happiness, for you and me.

I want peace for eternity.

To want, is to have no need.

~ Penelope A. Bartotto

May 17, 2008

And last but not least, Jeremy is back with

Here at the point where want becomes need

Is where I find myself in greatest danger

Leaving myself open to the flames of desire

Unafraid of burns, but of being blinded

Blinded by the smoke that may come

When the flames subside

It’s lonely out here at this point

This may be the one from which I won’t return

But I’m not one to shy from want

Instead I embrace it

If only in the hope that it won’t engulf me

Then again, I can think of worse losses in life

Like the ones that result in not living it

From “Drinking: A Love Story” by Caroline Knapp, I bring you

Distraction

/ Digg this /
Stumble this