i feel like i should be complaining about
how it’s unfair that they won’t allow me
to love you
but it’s also unfair how
your fingertips graze my chin
and i am at your mercy
you could crack my skull open,
twist my neck at a ninety-degree angle,
and yet i allow you to
cradle me to sleep
it’s unfair how my mother
had to find herself in the bottom of a bottle.
it’s unfair how my friends
have grown distant
and molted into different animals.
it’s unfair how many people have been battered
by words not meant for them
it’s unfair how many skins
have turned purple,
revealing their fragility
but things happen,
and people fall in love
and some run
and others drown
at least allow me to drown in you
i can be your tragedy
( you were already mine )
it’s something people that are very conservatory like. it’s something you don’t say, you don’t talk about. It’s something hidden, away from usual talks. it’s like: let’s not talk about it.
Once upon a time, there was a secret island. My aunt said to me that I was not allowed to visit the island during the day. When I asked why she told me that they carried out many taboo practices like sacrificing chickens for voodoo curses.
It’s really sick that I want to own giraffe tongues, isn’t it? I told Todd about it and he raised his eyebrow and had his mouth open in this hideous expression. He was not very pleased. I want 10 of them. All sizes. Black and tough. In jars.
I guess you could say that our sex life together is taboo. From the view of an outsider, Ambrose and I seem to be the typical couple. 9 to 5 job, a house with a nice yard and a dog to match. But behind closed doors, our darker sides come out to play and they are carrying chains and whips.
They told me it was wrong but I did it anyway. I knew it was expensive and that it would really cause a lot of pain, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be naughty and have something to prove it. And now it is stuck there and I will never ever be able to make it go away.
cured things that stay with you for the rest of your life.
Ancient chinese myths
Don’t break curses
colours green, purple, blue
boota
bootay
indian aroma
old chinese man
old herb man who gives out maps
old chinese lady who sell medicinal herbs
falisy
you can lead yourself to being taboo
ingnore it if you want
middle-eatern orient
palm trees
exotic climates
small villages
dirt
trees
brown earth
red earth
yellow earth
elephant horns
maps
time-travel
She’s the girl that you stay up late thinking about in bed, and though she’s beautiful and everything you could possbily want, she’s not the kind of girl you could bring home. Because your wife would kill you.
it’s often what you can’t say or do but secretly want to. down in the bottom of some tempestuous place of scorn and wisdom. where eyes meet and greet the sea and settle scores. how far we turned away from our own denials, our own taboos, and looked onward into the thicket, ever certain that something could still challenge us.
It’s something that’s against what everyone thinks.
It’s almost as though there’s some sort of secret, forbidden but desired effect to it. It’s a life that some live that many secretly fantazise about. It’s one of those things that people say ‘oh we mustn’t!’ to but secretly wish for reinforcement to do it
it’s a thrill. It’s passionate.
Something that you cannot say, stuck just on your tongue.
Something that dares not be heard, not by anyone.
A word perhaps, maybe a phrase, or just some food for thought.
What it may be, we cannot say, it’s best to be forgot.
You cannot split the mind from the body, said Socrates, nearly two and a half thousand years before the advent of psychoneuroimmunoendocrinology.
What if it is possible to die of loneliness? Is there a link between the ability to express emotions and Alzheimer’s disease? Are autoimmune diseases the body saying no to things in life when we are unable to? Is there such a thing as a “cancer personality”? Why are these questions taboos in modern medicine? Why is there a bermuda triangle in medicine where decades of research that strongly identifies a mind-body connection in nearly every condition and disease gets published but then simply disappears from mainstream discussion as if it never happened?
A taboo. This kiss is a taboo. This whole confession must be a deception, at least, that’s what the teachers say. So, with a heavy heart I turn my back on a paper dream. Give the boy his birthday kiss.
Wait three days to call, or else you’ll break the rules.
Never admit that you’re intrigued; honesty’s for fools.
Want to tell her you’re in love? Don’t be silly, it’s too quick
Don’t you know that love’s a game; a complex riddle, practiced trick?
It wasn’t a party until she brought Taboo out of the closet. We all gathered around anticipating her next move. Open the box I thought silently in my head and then she decided to go for monopoly instead. My dreams were crushed.
To flirt with the forbidden is to risk taboo
Inner worlds masked by outwards indifference
That’s the enticement, the clincher, the ol’ tree snake whi-s-s-s-perin’
Forward movements
Orbital views
Rotational spins
Time ticks
And ticks
Till the game of push and pull ends in a line crossing desicion
Oooooooh girl. You’ve done it now.
Ssssh. Be quiet! I haven’t done nothing!
Yes you have! Mama is gonna be pissed.
Batrice, will you shut yo mouth??
Help me get this cleaned up.
I knew that it was some sort of strange, incomprehensible cultural taboo, but I couldn’t stop myself. I kissed her. It was short and sharp, but we both knew that it had happened. Just as quickly, she shoved me away.
Her eyes were dark and fearful. “What have you done?”
what to say, nothing. can you do the things you feel without not knowing truth? what is in a truth anyhow? one can only dream the facts of life because no one knows.
Eating roasted cockroaches. Praying to Death itself. Making a woman cry. Whip oneself for a god. Telling the truth. Having a dissenting opinion. Thinking the world could be a lot better than it is.
taboo comic books, pictures of naughty things, old plastic smudged, sleeves like fogged glass, comic book crook potato, the smell of old ink and dry cardboard, comic book shop, occasionally stopped.
Sometimes I wonder if talking to me feels like some kind of taboo. Dare I cause something to stir under your cold exterior? Can I entice a smile, a smoldering gaze, something more decadent? Should I turn my back on you and give you the isolation you claim to desire? Perhaps I should push a little harder and search your eyes for a glimmer of something you find appetizing? Leather, heels, and painted toes? Satin and lace? A slap in the face? A barefoot dance in the surf along the shore? How can I explain to you, my dear, that the true taboo is the wasting of passion in a world drowning in loneliness. Let me be the light in your darkness, so we might find our way out–together.
if wanting to kill yourself is taboo, then make me a vixen of death and sodden emotion. i can’t put up with this world any more but i also can’t leave it behind. even in my moment of peace i’m afraid i’ll be judged
taboo is something that is okay in another culture, but not okay in our culture. Some things that are taboo have to do with different food, piercings, and tattoos. People eat different things. People express themselves differently by doing a variety of things to themselves. Other cultures see the things we do to be taboo.
Some said studying was a process best done beginning to end, while others practiced the religion of relegating the task to the last minute. Todd, however, took the taboo route of avoiding the effort all together and only showing up for tests. Ironically, it wasn’t until he received the test back that Todd discovered the definition of ‘taboo’ when he missed the question on the final. Taboo, adj. proscribed by society as improper or unacceptable; Taboo, n. prohibited or excluded from use or practice.
There are things we feel and people we see and before we can experience these people and these feelings we see them as taboo. We tell ourselves that it will never happen, but the inevitable always comes. We fall in love, we cry for no reason, we rejoice in our victories, and we die for a cause.
What is taboo? Why are people intrigued by taboos? What do I find taboo? Why are people scared of taboo? There is a nightclub called taboo. What do I find taboo??
The extent of taboo is like a kiss from a lover. Hard, desperately wanting, and somewhat delicious. It’s consuming, all consuming because in the end a taboo is salvation. It’s what ends up being the one word that keeps you alive.
I work with a lot of taboo material in my job. I find myself weaseling out of saying taboo things directly, partly because I’m chicken and partly because when I am feeling brave, I am afraid of appearing mean and cold. So I soften what I say by adding “yet” — as in, “He isn’t potty trained YET” or “He hasn’t learned what sounds the letters make YET.” The older the kid, the more weaselly this sounds, because the less likely it is that he ever WILL do those things.
Her hands quickly slapped over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide in terror.
“What did you say?” the other woman questioned.
She remained silent, clenching her hands over her mouth. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she began to tremble. The woman approached her and swiftly kicked her in the stomach, making her double over.
“NEVER let me hear you say that again!” she spat at the girl’s crumpled up frame.
“Taboo?” Erica frowned. “I know what you mean and I don’t like it.” She looked to their team leader for support. “Joren, come on, back me up here. They may have issues with women in combat and whatever else, but this isn’t some far away galaxy with issues. This is earth. We do things differently down here, we treat our women right.”
Joren’s easy smile did not match the steel in his eyes as he turned to the green-skinned ambassadors with their high collars and turned up noses. “You will find, sirs,” he inclined his head. “That my chief officer, Erica Stranden, is a very capable woman with a habit of speaking her mind, as she has just done. You will also find that I stand behind her, 100%, so if there is anything beyond this that might ruin any trading potential between our two people, I would suggest you mention it now. Perhaps it is taboo in your society–or perhaps in ours. This–mistake, as you put it–works very well for us.”
I have a new taboo. One that I have no intention of breaking. I never want to see your tears again. Wait, let me rephrase. I never want to see you shed tears because of me again. Tears of joy, maybe. But not tears of sadness. Never again.
There was a taboo about discussing what she did during the war. It was something she was not proud of, even though it helped the war effort a lot. At least that was how she explained it.
i feel like i should be complaining about
how it’s unfair that they won’t allow me
to love you
but it’s also unfair how
your fingertips graze my chin
and i am at your mercy
you could crack my skull open,
twist my neck at a ninety-degree angle,
and yet i allow you to
cradle me to sleep
it’s unfair how my mother
had to find herself in the bottom of a bottle.
it’s unfair how my friends
have grown distant
and molted into different animals.
it’s unfair how many people have been battered
by words not meant for them
it’s unfair how many skins
have turned purple,
revealing their fragility
but things happen,
and people fall in love
and some run
and others drown
at least allow me to drown in you
i can be your tragedy
( you were already mine )
it’s something people that are very conservatory like. it’s something you don’t say, you don’t talk about. It’s something hidden, away from usual talks. it’s like: let’s not talk about it.
Once upon a time, there was a secret island. My aunt said to me that I was not allowed to visit the island during the day. When I asked why she told me that they carried out many taboo practices like sacrificing chickens for voodoo curses.
It’s really sick that I want to own giraffe tongues, isn’t it? I told Todd about it and he raised his eyebrow and had his mouth open in this hideous expression. He was not very pleased. I want 10 of them. All sizes. Black and tough. In jars.
I guess you could say that our sex life together is taboo. From the view of an outsider, Ambrose and I seem to be the typical couple. 9 to 5 job, a house with a nice yard and a dog to match. But behind closed doors, our darker sides come out to play and they are carrying chains and whips.
They told me it was wrong but I did it anyway. I knew it was expensive and that it would really cause a lot of pain, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be naughty and have something to prove it. And now it is stuck there and I will never ever be able to make it go away.
cured things that stay with you for the rest of your life.
Ancient chinese myths
Don’t break curses
colours green, purple, blue
boota
bootay
indian aroma
old chinese man
old herb man who gives out maps
old chinese lady who sell medicinal herbs
falisy
you can lead yourself to being taboo
ingnore it if you want
middle-eatern orient
palm trees
exotic climates
small villages
dirt
trees
brown earth
red earth
yellow earth
elephant horns
maps
time-travel
We don’t like to talk about it.
i have nothing to say about this word.
She’s the girl that you stay up late thinking about in bed, and though she’s beautiful and everything you could possbily want, she’s not the kind of girl you could bring home. Because your wife would kill you.
it’s often what you can’t say or do but secretly want to. down in the bottom of some tempestuous place of scorn and wisdom. where eyes meet and greet the sea and settle scores. how far we turned away from our own denials, our own taboos, and looked onward into the thicket, ever certain that something could still challenge us.
It’s something that’s against what everyone thinks.
It’s almost as though there’s some sort of secret, forbidden but desired effect to it. It’s a life that some live that many secretly fantazise about. It’s one of those things that people say ‘oh we mustn’t!’ to but secretly wish for reinforcement to do it
it’s a thrill. It’s passionate.
Something that you cannot say, stuck just on your tongue.
Something that dares not be heard, not by anyone.
A word perhaps, maybe a phrase, or just some food for thought.
What it may be, we cannot say, it’s best to be forgot.
You cannot split the mind from the body, said Socrates, nearly two and a half thousand years before the advent of psychoneuroimmunoendocrinology.
What if it is possible to die of loneliness? Is there a link between the ability to express emotions and Alzheimer’s disease? Are autoimmune diseases the body saying no to things in life when we are unable to? Is there such a thing as a “cancer personality”? Why are these questions taboos in modern medicine? Why is there a bermuda triangle in medicine where decades of research that strongly identifies a mind-body connection in nearly every condition and disease gets published but then simply disappears from mainstream discussion as if it never happened?
A taboo. This kiss is a taboo. This whole confession must be a deception, at least, that’s what the teachers say. So, with a heavy heart I turn my back on a paper dream. Give the boy his birthday kiss.
Wait three days to call, or else you’ll break the rules.
Never admit that you’re intrigued; honesty’s for fools.
Want to tell her you’re in love? Don’t be silly, it’s too quick
Don’t you know that love’s a game; a complex riddle, practiced trick?
It wasn’t a party until she brought Taboo out of the closet. We all gathered around anticipating her next move. Open the box I thought silently in my head and then she decided to go for monopoly instead. My dreams were crushed.
To flirt with the forbidden is to risk taboo
Inner worlds masked by outwards indifference
That’s the enticement, the clincher, the ol’ tree snake whi-s-s-s-perin’
Forward movements
Orbital views
Rotational spins
Time ticks
And ticks
Till the game of push and pull ends in a line crossing desicion
The times when you can’t get your feelings out, the break from the office, the dreams you pursue, the golden path, the path of a god, decision
Oooooooh girl. You’ve done it now.
Ssssh. Be quiet! I haven’t done nothing!
Yes you have! Mama is gonna be pissed.
Batrice, will you shut yo mouth??
Help me get this cleaned up.
I knew that it was some sort of strange, incomprehensible cultural taboo, but I couldn’t stop myself. I kissed her. It was short and sharp, but we both knew that it had happened. Just as quickly, she shoved me away.
Her eyes were dark and fearful. “What have you done?”
what to say, nothing. can you do the things you feel without not knowing truth? what is in a truth anyhow? one can only dream the facts of life because no one knows.
Eating roasted cockroaches. Praying to Death itself. Making a woman cry. Whip oneself for a god. Telling the truth. Having a dissenting opinion. Thinking the world could be a lot better than it is.
This is a vocab word I had in class recently. We had a contest, where we each voted on a sentence, and ours was:
A vote for this sentence is a vote for a taboo on homework.
It would be awesome and cool and epic and sweet and awesome and yeah.
SO yeah.
Three times….. Os this normal?
taboo comic books, pictures of naughty things, old plastic smudged, sleeves like fogged glass, comic book crook potato, the smell of old ink and dry cardboard, comic book shop, occasionally stopped.
Sometimes I wonder if talking to me feels like some kind of taboo. Dare I cause something to stir under your cold exterior? Can I entice a smile, a smoldering gaze, something more decadent? Should I turn my back on you and give you the isolation you claim to desire? Perhaps I should push a little harder and search your eyes for a glimmer of something you find appetizing? Leather, heels, and painted toes? Satin and lace? A slap in the face? A barefoot dance in the surf along the shore? How can I explain to you, my dear, that the true taboo is the wasting of passion in a world drowning in loneliness. Let me be the light in your darkness, so we might find our way out–together.
if wanting to kill yourself is taboo, then make me a vixen of death and sodden emotion. i can’t put up with this world any more but i also can’t leave it behind. even in my moment of peace i’m afraid i’ll be judged
taboo is something that is okay in another culture, but not okay in our culture. Some things that are taboo have to do with different food, piercings, and tattoos. People eat different things. People express themselves differently by doing a variety of things to themselves. Other cultures see the things we do to be taboo.
Some said studying was a process best done beginning to end, while others practiced the religion of relegating the task to the last minute. Todd, however, took the taboo route of avoiding the effort all together and only showing up for tests. Ironically, it wasn’t until he received the test back that Todd discovered the definition of ‘taboo’ when he missed the question on the final. Taboo, adj. proscribed by society as improper or unacceptable; Taboo, n. prohibited or excluded from use or practice.
There are things we feel and people we see and before we can experience these people and these feelings we see them as taboo. We tell ourselves that it will never happen, but the inevitable always comes. We fall in love, we cry for no reason, we rejoice in our victories, and we die for a cause.
What is taboo? Why are people intrigued by taboos? What do I find taboo? Why are people scared of taboo? There is a nightclub called taboo. What do I find taboo??
The extent of taboo is like a kiss from a lover. Hard, desperately wanting, and somewhat delicious. It’s consuming, all consuming because in the end a taboo is salvation. It’s what ends up being the one word that keeps you alive.
I work with a lot of taboo material in my job. I find myself weaseling out of saying taboo things directly, partly because I’m chicken and partly because when I am feeling brave, I am afraid of appearing mean and cold. So I soften what I say by adding “yet” — as in, “He isn’t potty trained YET” or “He hasn’t learned what sounds the letters make YET.” The older the kid, the more weaselly this sounds, because the less likely it is that he ever WILL do those things.
Her hands quickly slapped over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide in terror.
“What did you say?” the other woman questioned.
She remained silent, clenching her hands over her mouth. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she began to tremble. The woman approached her and swiftly kicked her in the stomach, making her double over.
“NEVER let me hear you say that again!” she spat at the girl’s crumpled up frame.
“Taboo?” Erica frowned. “I know what you mean and I don’t like it.” She looked to their team leader for support. “Joren, come on, back me up here. They may have issues with women in combat and whatever else, but this isn’t some far away galaxy with issues. This is earth. We do things differently down here, we treat our women right.”
Joren’s easy smile did not match the steel in his eyes as he turned to the green-skinned ambassadors with their high collars and turned up noses. “You will find, sirs,” he inclined his head. “That my chief officer, Erica Stranden, is a very capable woman with a habit of speaking her mind, as she has just done. You will also find that I stand behind her, 100%, so if there is anything beyond this that might ruin any trading potential between our two people, I would suggest you mention it now. Perhaps it is taboo in your society–or perhaps in ours. This–mistake, as you put it–works very well for us.”
I have a new taboo. One that I have no intention of breaking. I never want to see your tears again. Wait, let me rephrase. I never want to see you shed tears because of me again. Tears of joy, maybe. But not tears of sadness. Never again.
Having an affair is the ultimate taboo. What about an emotional affair, what about if its all in your heart and mind? Is there any difference?
It is Taboo to go after another ladies man as well as it is Taboo for a man to go after another mans lady.
There was a taboo about discussing what she did during the war. It was something she was not proud of, even though it helped the war effort a lot. At least that was how she explained it.