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Wednesday, April 12, 2017

For the shivers...

Speak to me in whispers against my ear, speak of the rain against the window and the wind in the trees. Speak of clear mountain water falling through crevices, cascading into pools of shimmering breathlessness and press a kiss against my hair. Speak of music low and sweet, lilting and lovely and turn the key to a world that neither has known.

Thursday, April 6, 2017



Sometimes I feel as though I'm waiting for something amazing to happen. Some glorious being come down from the midst of the clouds to shine upon us all, else some kind soul to stop and pay attention to me sitting here, at my desk, whitling away the time until I can go home... to yawn, my messy, messy house... just thinking of my living conditions gives me anxiety, dirty ugly carpet, kitchen drawers askew, horrible bathroom vanity with the new bottom and old Formica top. Couldn't the dang landlord spring for a new counter for the bathroom for crying out loud! Else I wish to find some audio book that will infuse me with a sense of well being, a new way of thinking, something that will give me a spark of intelligence and wit to speak to my fellow beings. Alas most of my pedantic thoughts are contained within my own head and never escape. Probably for the best. I want something amazing to happen. Where is the glorious happiness that we are all looking for? I wonder

First published in 2014

Parties

People say they want unity, a joyful alliance.

What they're searching for is avoidance of heart ache.

They see others as a threat, a different point of view.

Different and thus dangerous, there's no room for disagreement.

Alone in a crowded room, alone among laughter, revelry and good times for those who fit a certain mold.

Shadows pass by

Here and there they stand out

A bright personality

A shade

Here they are accepted

Drag queen and fluttering fairy goddesses

Shimmering gowns

Simmering sounds

Smoke all around, in and out

A circle for those who belong

A lonely table for those who don't

It's all so fantastic, incredible! The sounds, the beats, the spirits

Fascinating





Buenas Noches to my illusions

Buenas noches my darling. I lay here staring at false stars, thinking about life. When wounded my heart bleeds in poetry. Little drops, here and there... More when the emptiness of the night creeps in. It's as though I woke from a beautiful dream. I lost the sense of safety and hope for future plans. The silence makes me doubt it was ever real. Little drops of blood on my pillow. Pin pricks throughout the day. So many illusions shattered in so short a time. And all I hear is silence,what was real? 

Different Lenses

I wonder how it is that I can feel so amazing at some points in time and so on the brink of despair at others. One variety of life to the other I wonder how can it be? That elusive feeling of well being, simple appreciation of a good conversation, friends who were once there are no longer, through chance, through time, they are gone. They filter out of the room, out of awareness then suddenly, illumination they are there a bright spot in your day. At times I wander from place to place with a quiet amusement at the people I see. Sometimes I hide, no wish to be seen on days when I just cannot smile, on the inside anyway. Sometimes the ache is so strong to be held that I sandwich myself between pillows and drink hot coco and try not to cry. Sometimes I do cry, remember what has happened, sometimes I scream. I like storms, approaching darkness, the pungent breeze. I like the fresh reminder that life, LIFE is happening out there and I'm not alone.

Originally published 10/19/12

Different thoughts about love...

Sometimes I wish I could capture all the thoughts and memories that I had while I was with you, to bundle them up nice and neat to be taken out and felt again when I want. Right now they come as flashes of feelings and thought. The sound of birds on a peaceful morning. Rain outside the window. The dewy newness of spring in the air. A far off dream in a different land.

Flashes of yesterday.

Sometimes I want to step into an old conversation, just to think and feel the way that I used to. I wish that a normal conversation could be held again, between me and you.

Now the only conversations we've had are of stilted points of view, separate thoughts coming from separate worlds, is there any way to understand each other now?

I am selfish in that I wanted a continuing and easy friendship with you. Minds speaking the truth without the truth becoming a barrier to the heart.

I've come to realize that the heart wishes for endless days of fancy. Intimate nothings. Not intellectual brazenness, sophistry. The heart sees the beauty of the soul and discards the chattel of appearance. But then again, love is quite the complicated thing.

Beauty of mannerisms, beauty of similarity, beauty of differences. Calmness of mind, humor and appearance. Throwing off of unintentional barbs, or bleeding out and dying, death of a love that could have been.

Originally posted 2/19/14

So Sad Tonight

What I desire is more than intimacy, not intimacy in it's dirtied sense. True intimacy, a wordless happy connection. Two beautifully full hearts beating together as one. A radiant hug that soaks into the deepest parts of the soul and leaves no room for doubt that I am acceptable, my whole, beautiful soul is acceptable and pure, not soiled by carnal thought, but blessed by pure radiant love. I feel so torn apart, my hopes shattered by dirtied deeds done to me, by me. I feel a worthless piece of trash, chattel, refuse. I've reached out, and I have hoped. I have tried and I have found tainted, tainted love. No matter I want no more. I want to be whole. To leave all of that behind and step into my true self. My wholesome, beautiful self. She is sitting in a corner of the closet, hiding and crying, so sad that I keep letting things hurt her. I will speak up for myself now, protect my core self.

Originally published 4/22/13

Thursday, March 30, 2017

A bit of a thought for a book...

It was starling, she had just walked into this room only an hour before and now everything had changed. The decor, no longer the upbeat modern with floating lights and minimalist furniture, was a tacky yellow and orange. There was a round Formica table in the middle of the room and the chairs reminded her of the elementary school cafeteria chairs that she grew up with. There was smoke in the air, odd, especially since smoking had not been allowed in the facility for as long as she could remember.

She heard a door open and turned, this guy with a full on 70's style suit walked in and got his lunch out of the green refrigerator. He gave her a sideways glance, as if she were the one with the weird clothing, then proceeded to heat up his lunch in the bulky microwave sitting on the counter. Another guy walked in, again in a 70's style suit, and the two start discussing politics ignoring Alex. She heard the men mention President Nixon and Watergate. Alex was flummoxed! What was going on?

Then, as if the dial of a radio was being turned the room, the men and the conversation wavered and blurred and the next thing Alex knew she was back in her own familiar break room. What had happened!? Was that all a dream?

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Motherhood

Every emotion sweet, tender and yet inadequate
wrapped in a bundle, with soft cheeks and soft hair
So freeing and purposeful
The job of mother

A tiny fraction of your soul, given life anew in another human being
their joy, their pain
is your own

They go dancing through life holding your hand and then letting go

How poignant that moment can be

Each turning from one stage to another, so keenly felt

By a mother

Friday, March 10, 2017

Jumble

Here I lay, broken pieces, a jumble on my bed
You've classified me a mistake
All the laughter has deflated from my lungs
Tears press out of my eyes and I am alone

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Falling in Love

Wouldn't it be nice if we could fall in love like we used to
two young people who meet
at a shop, in the center of town
where she works as an ice cream clerk and he comes in to flirt

Wouldn't it be nice if on a summers day I met you
as you came around the corner
out for a stroll
on a lovely summers day

Or in school, the shy guy hiding behind your bravado

or any way that we all used to fall in love

The characters of text on my little phone screen don't speak to me like a stolen kiss in the moonlight out back in the field

I'm not the same, sitting behind my desk at my 9-5 job

as I was barefoot, walking down center street in the hot summer sun

I just feel like you can't really understand who I am

In this staid, fettered world.