They danced while the moon was rising.
Time had slowed during their embrace. The hands of the clock still turning. At the first sound of the bell, her head turned so quickly her hair fell loose from the clasp. The second sound of the bell she broke away from his arms. The third sound of the bell she removed both her shoes, and carried them as she ran into the darkness. The bell continued to sound. She continued to run farther and farther from the sound of the bell. The bell, a reminder of the limits. Her dress turning to tatters. The moonlight glittered off the glass shoe, she realized one had fallen. No time to waste on looking, the spell would be lifted soon. She had to get back inside her room. The transition between worlds happened within the dark while she looked for the familiar path toward home. She went home like good girls do. They learn to endure the selfish needs and wants of others. The world is filled with people that don't want to reconcile. Driven by a need to dominate because it creates the illusion of control. The feeling of control over another person is a seduction. It stops the aging process and can even reverse it, making grown-ups act like needy, infants. Tantrums, and tears.
Why he didn't follow her is unknown. He saw the sparkle of moonlight touch the ground, being a logical man he had to investigate it's source. He knelt to retrieve the slipper of glass, mesmerized by it's shimmery surface he stared. He saw images through it, this was no ordinary looking-glass. The search was refined by a glass slipper. She left behind, a hair clasp, a shoe. Treasures found, but not won, bind you to a scared oath.
Black Locust
Protect yourself in lush craggy skin poison thorns behind such beauty.Torrid, horrid and beautiful.The earth beneath you is enriched by your presence.
it's okay
wait for the emptiness to expand
full on nothing
it's okay to not know
because that is what the rest will do
letting go is harder than wishing you didn't remember
it could always be better
one day it will happen
fond memories will appear
of this time that lasts forever until it's gone.
first and last time
"I didn't have to fill out these forms last time."
"Last time? You've done this before?"
"Yea"
"If you were my daughter...!"
"If I was your daughter, would you love me, and care about me? Could I tell you what he said when he I told him 'I'm pregnant' the first time?"
Shadow on the Wall
Stretched out on the wall above was the gigantic shadow of my cat. He was walking in the driveway, when his shadow jumped through the window and clung to the wall. It moved slowly like a monster stalking me, preying on the terror in my eyes, and my rapid heart beat. It moved on slowly until it vanished. The wall returned to it's previous look, a protective covering from the outside world.
A Heart Made of Opalwith more colors than a rainbow
a brillant array
fragile as a human heart
incased in a stone cage
to be surgically removed
refined
polished
luminous
fiery
a brillant array
fragile as a human heart
incased in a stone cage
to be surgically removed
refined
polished
luminous
fiery
The Subtlety of Compulsion
The automatic door
you know the type
you step on the magical pad
ta da
it opens with an invisible hand.
It's like making a grand entrance.
Into a place filled with treasures
sparkling, richly textured, sensuous colors.
Who can resist such finery.
Gazing out with no end in site
you forget you're in a large room.
The music makes your steps lighten.
Compulsion takes over in such a subtle way.
The mannequin's are always so friendly,
their grotesque poses seem natural.
Like we could look that good, if only we could
find a place in life to stand like that.
The automatic door
you know the type
you step on the magical pad
ta da
it opens with an invisible hand.
It's like making a grand entrance.
Into a place filled with treasures
sparkling, richly textured, sensuous colors.
Who can resist such finery.
Gazing out with no end in site
you forget you're in a large room.
The music makes your steps lighten.
Compulsion takes over in such a subtle way.
The mannequin's are always so friendly,
their grotesque poses seem natural.
Like we could look that good, if only we could
find a place in life to stand like that.
Write about a cafe
The sound of dishes being stacked.The smell of coffee. The sizzle of a grill.
"Well I saw them leaving together twice last week."
"That doesn't mean they are having an affair."
"Can I get you anything else?"
"Huh, um Oh! No thanks I'm fine." I felt my face flush.
I hadn't even realized I was eavesdropping on the conversation.
I wondered how many times the waitress asked if she could get me anything else.
I wondered if she had just asked me to entertain herself because she noticed I was eavesdropping.
Geez was my life that sad? Here I was eavesdropping, and being paranoid. Paranoid am I paranoid?
Wait maybe I am over analyzing. No maybe that waitress put something in my coffee.
I wasn't drinking coffee. I looked at the table. I saw a glass of ice water.
It had formed a little puddle from condensation. I noticed the unopened menu.
Geez how long had I been sitting here?
I need to call the waitress back over, maybe I should just leave and find a drive thru.
"Well I saw them leaving together twice last week."
"That doesn't mean they are having an affair."
"Can I get you anything else?"
"Huh, um Oh! No thanks I'm fine." I felt my face flush.
I hadn't even realized I was eavesdropping on the conversation.
I wondered how many times the waitress asked if she could get me anything else.
I wondered if she had just asked me to entertain herself because she noticed I was eavesdropping.
Geez was my life that sad? Here I was eavesdropping, and being paranoid. Paranoid am I paranoid?
Wait maybe I am over analyzing. No maybe that waitress put something in my coffee.
I wasn't drinking coffee. I looked at the table. I saw a glass of ice water.
It had formed a little puddle from condensation. I noticed the unopened menu.
Geez how long had I been sitting here?
I need to call the waitress back over, maybe I should just leave and find a drive thru.
Write about a summer memory
A summer memory. My family had gone to Arizona for a
weekend. We stayed at a camp ground near a stream. I
was left alone to wander, and explore. After I got
tired of spinning on the merry-go-round. I walked
around the trailers where the permanent residents
stayed. I was always looking to meet new people, and
hear about their lives. I noticed a trailer parked
away from all the others. There was a blanket spread
out on the grass. From where I was I thought I saw a
girl about my age on the blanket. I went closer.
From there I could see something was different about
her. She was lying on her back. Her arms and legs
were moving in a way that was not familiar to me. It
took me many years to realize what it was I saw that
day. I don't remember when I realized it either.I
just know when I think back to that day my heart is
warmed, and my eyes fill with tears. That girl was as
free as a person could be. She was taken to a
beautiful place and able to be herself. Her parents
didn't put her into a hospital. They let her be who
she was. I never went close enough to talk to anyone
that lived in that trailer. This was in the 1970's
before I knew the word handicapped. I didn't know
what to say, because I didn't know what I was seeing.
Now as an adult I know what I saw that day. I saw a
girl who's journey in life was not that different then
mine. I had mastered the technique of rolling over,
crawling, walking and running, she may have never
mastered them. There are many people that achieve
great things in their lifetime. I am thinking mainly
about reaching ones full potenial. In so many ways I
will continuely struggle with the samethings other
people can do so easily. What I saw that day was
freedom. I remember she was wearing something that
was purple. Sitting here now writing about this I
realize that was the first and last time I went any
place for a weekend with my entire family.
weekend. We stayed at a camp ground near a stream. I
was left alone to wander, and explore. After I got
tired of spinning on the merry-go-round. I walked
around the trailers where the permanent residents
stayed. I was always looking to meet new people, and
hear about their lives. I noticed a trailer parked
away from all the others. There was a blanket spread
out on the grass. From where I was I thought I saw a
girl about my age on the blanket. I went closer.
From there I could see something was different about
her. She was lying on her back. Her arms and legs
were moving in a way that was not familiar to me. It
took me many years to realize what it was I saw that
day. I don't remember when I realized it either.I
just know when I think back to that day my heart is
warmed, and my eyes fill with tears. That girl was as
free as a person could be. She was taken to a
beautiful place and able to be herself. Her parents
didn't put her into a hospital. They let her be who
she was. I never went close enough to talk to anyone
that lived in that trailer. This was in the 1970's
before I knew the word handicapped. I didn't know
what to say, because I didn't know what I was seeing.
Now as an adult I know what I saw that day. I saw a
girl who's journey in life was not that different then
mine. I had mastered the technique of rolling over,
crawling, walking and running, she may have never
mastered them. There are many people that achieve
great things in their lifetime. I am thinking mainly
about reaching ones full potenial. In so many ways I
will continuely struggle with the samethings other
people can do so easily. What I saw that day was
freedom. I remember she was wearing something that
was purple. Sitting here now writing about this I
realize that was the first and last time I went any
place for a weekend with my entire family.
Write about jealousy
Jealousy
says there's not enough
don't forget about me
Perception versus reality
Jealousy
Write about a pillow
A pillow is civilized.
A pillow fight is civilized.
A pillow being covered and adorned is civilized.
Life without a pillow, I don't want to realize.
Can I see you in the kitchen
After years of perservatives, hormones, and
insecticides being put into food. Food revolted. It
happened in a restaurant in Los Angeles. The chickens
had lined up on the counter top. Raw whole chickens
armed with appetizers. They were furious "Buffalo
wings" they yelled. This is the last straw. First
they make us fat on hormones then they don't even give
us credit for our own wings. The chickens got the
vegetables to join them. The vegetables had been
noticing that over the years they had gotten larger,
but had lost their flavor. The carrots had joined and
brought in the tomatoes. The potatoes eyes were
bulging with anger. The parsely needed to be
convinced. The only food item in the kitchen that was
unphased was the chocolate cake. The chef had
returned from the stock room with cooking oil. The
chef was informed by the food items that this was
merely the beginning. It was organic from now on.
Food wasn't going to just lay around on the plate
anymore. If people weren't going to stop the nonsense
food was going to revolt. Little did these food items
know, that junk food was planning a major take over if
the food revolt took hold. The chef called for the
restaurant manager. "Vince, can I see you in the
kitchen. Please." The chef had sided with the food.
Vince passed through the swinging door. The chef told
Vince about the plight of the food items. Vince said
I will change vendors tomorrow. The chef said "What
are we going to feed the customers tonight?" Vince
said
"Let them eat cake!"
insecticides being put into food. Food revolted. It
happened in a restaurant in Los Angeles. The chickens
had lined up on the counter top. Raw whole chickens
armed with appetizers. They were furious "Buffalo
wings" they yelled. This is the last straw. First
they make us fat on hormones then they don't even give
us credit for our own wings. The chickens got the
vegetables to join them. The vegetables had been
noticing that over the years they had gotten larger,
but had lost their flavor. The carrots had joined and
brought in the tomatoes. The potatoes eyes were
bulging with anger. The parsely needed to be
convinced. The only food item in the kitchen that was
unphased was the chocolate cake. The chef had
returned from the stock room with cooking oil. The
chef was informed by the food items that this was
merely the beginning. It was organic from now on.
Food wasn't going to just lay around on the plate
anymore. If people weren't going to stop the nonsense
food was going to revolt. Little did these food items
know, that junk food was planning a major take over if
the food revolt took hold. The chef called for the
restaurant manager. "Vince, can I see you in the
kitchen. Please." The chef had sided with the food.
Vince passed through the swinging door. The chef told
Vince about the plight of the food items. Vince said
I will change vendors tomorrow. The chef said "What
are we going to feed the customers tonight?" Vince
said
"Let them eat cake!"
These are the lies I told you
The lies I told you...
The lies I told you gave me freedom.
The lies I told you shaped my life.
The lies I told you eased your mind.
The lies I told you hurt me sometimes.
The lies I told you made my life mine.
The lies I told you built a wall.
The lies I told you made my character small.
The lies I told you were things I omitted.
The lies I told you seemed justified.
The lies I told you were because you never asked.
The lies I told you became a scar
The wound healed
The truth ajar
The lies I told you gave me freedom.
The lies I told you shaped my life.
The lies I told you eased your mind.
The lies I told you hurt me sometimes.
The lies I told you made my life mine.
The lies I told you built a wall.
The lies I told you made my character small.
The lies I told you were things I omitted.
The lies I told you seemed justified.
The lies I told you were because you never asked.
The lies I told you became a scar
The wound healed
The truth ajar
Remember an afternoon
I had been riding my horse one afternoon. I decided to take a short cut. I walked her through a field where tall oats were growing. The wind blew the amber grain. It swirled around us like water. The further we got into the oat field I got the sensation we were floating in a boat. I think my horse sensed it too because she stopped, and turned her head from side to side. The amazing thing about it was she never tried to eat any of it. We were trespassing but as you know horses have sound moral judgement.
This much is known
Even though the sidewalk in front of the liquor store was swept daily,
it still looked dirty. A smooth bump of gum turned black looked like
a cobble stone. A newspaper rack sat lopsided near the door. It had
survived daily slammings. Why would anyone pay to read anything
depressing. This much is known that if no one was buying the
newspapers from that rack it wouldn't have been setting there. The
market carried a variety of grocery items for people that just needed
a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread. It was convienent. Regulars that
stopped on a daily basis were comforting to the store owner. He
appreciated their business. It was the strangers that made him
nervous. He realized this type of business made him a target to be
robbed. He had been fortunate robbery was something he hadn't
experienced. It was, just something that concerned him. One day a
daughter of one of the regular customers handed him a hand made Thank
You card.
" An art project at school. " she said.
" My teacher wanted us to Thank someone that made life easier. "
she explained. " I made this for you because I hate going to
the grocery store with my mom. It takes forever even for one
thing"
The shop owner smiled big and Thanked her. He displayed the card
right next to the cash register.
it still looked dirty. A smooth bump of gum turned black looked like
a cobble stone. A newspaper rack sat lopsided near the door. It had
survived daily slammings. Why would anyone pay to read anything
depressing. This much is known that if no one was buying the
newspapers from that rack it wouldn't have been setting there. The
market carried a variety of grocery items for people that just needed
a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread. It was convienent. Regulars that
stopped on a daily basis were comforting to the store owner. He
appreciated their business. It was the strangers that made him
nervous. He realized this type of business made him a target to be
robbed. He had been fortunate robbery was something he hadn't
experienced. It was, just something that concerned him. One day a
daughter of one of the regular customers handed him a hand made Thank
You card.
" An art project at school. " she said.
" My teacher wanted us to Thank someone that made life easier. "
she explained. " I made this for you because I hate going to
the grocery store with my mom. It takes forever even for one
thing"
The shop owner smiled big and Thanked her. He displayed the card
right next to the cash register.
At 5:00 in the afternoon
At 5 in the afternoon I stood filling my tank with gasoline. I
remembered I used to like the smell of gasoline. Back when it was 50
cents a gallon. Gas didn't smell good anymore. Was it the additives
that made it smell bad. Maybe the price per gallon made it sour.
Maybe greed stinks. I used to think, back in 1970's, in the year 2000
life would be like The Jetsons. I imaged food would be different,
streets would be the sky. I remember being told by my dad that one
day phones would be equipped to show the person you are talking with.
Mostly I imaged that cars would fly. Automobile manufacturers
obviously thought the same because most new cars , for awhile, looked
like they were made for flying. As fast they showed up on the market,
they left. Being replaced by big boxy automobiles. I remembered the
Y2K scare people talking about preparing for social collapse. Here it
is 2006 and we are still going around in circles on this here planet
earth. Where is the space age? I guess being a dreamer just helps me
cope with my insignificance. The nasty smell of gasoline hit my
senses, it was a little past 5 in the afternoon.
remembered I used to like the smell of gasoline. Back when it was 50
cents a gallon. Gas didn't smell good anymore. Was it the additives
that made it smell bad. Maybe the price per gallon made it sour.
Maybe greed stinks. I used to think, back in 1970's, in the year 2000
life would be like The Jetsons. I imaged food would be different,
streets would be the sky. I remember being told by my dad that one
day phones would be equipped to show the person you are talking with.
Mostly I imaged that cars would fly. Automobile manufacturers
obviously thought the same because most new cars , for awhile, looked
like they were made for flying. As fast they showed up on the market,
they left. Being replaced by big boxy automobiles. I remembered the
Y2K scare people talking about preparing for social collapse. Here it
is 2006 and we are still going around in circles on this here planet
earth. Where is the space age? I guess being a dreamer just helps me
cope with my insignificance. The nasty smell of gasoline hit my
senses, it was a little past 5 in the afternoon.
A moon story
Before clocks and calenders, there was the moon. Each night it showed itself slightly different. Seeming to grow. Held up by an invisible hand. At full circle it glowed bright enough to cast shadows at night. What thoughts, what magic was inspired by this bright spot. Is this the portal the Gods used to enter our world, along the shimmering trail that swayed on the sea.
You stayed too long
"You flipped your hair." James said.
"When?" asked Twinks.
Twinks was her nickname. She had always been a flirt. So much a part
of her personality she didn't realize she was flirting. Neither did
anyone she encountered, her actions were effortless and sincere. Her
gift was adding sparkle to everyday life. James was instantly
attracted to Twinks. Her enthusiasm made him greedy, he wanted it all
for himself, he had forgotten where he had hidden his own. After
three weeks of dinners, and flowers James was ready to stake his
claim. He thought Twinks drew attention to herself in little ways.
If she stopped drawing attention to herself she could focus all of her
attention on him. What a perfect relationship him imagined, Twinks
all to himself. His life would be complete and he could finally be
happy. His plan was to point out to her everytime she tryed to draw
attention to herself. It would take no time at all for her to realize
his dream. Twinks wouldn't need anyone but him. She would be the
light of his life the details would take care of themselves.
(sigh) -thought bubble bursts-
Like the flame of a candle will burn temporaily when placed under a
jar, long enough to consume the limited bits of oxygen.
Twinks could feel her heart race. She knew it was only a matter of
time before James' sudden change of personality became the only thing
they talked about. Gone would be her butterfly ways. The smiles, the
giggles. Replaced by an anchor, a chain, and small calculated circles.
What will become of James and Twinks?
"When?" asked Twinks.
Twinks was her nickname. She had always been a flirt. So much a part
of her personality she didn't realize she was flirting. Neither did
anyone she encountered, her actions were effortless and sincere. Her
gift was adding sparkle to everyday life. James was instantly
attracted to Twinks. Her enthusiasm made him greedy, he wanted it all
for himself, he had forgotten where he had hidden his own. After
three weeks of dinners, and flowers James was ready to stake his
claim. He thought Twinks drew attention to herself in little ways.
If she stopped drawing attention to herself she could focus all of her
attention on him. What a perfect relationship him imagined, Twinks
all to himself. His life would be complete and he could finally be
happy. His plan was to point out to her everytime she tryed to draw
attention to herself. It would take no time at all for her to realize
his dream. Twinks wouldn't need anyone but him. She would be the
light of his life the details would take care of themselves.
(sigh) -thought bubble bursts-
Like the flame of a candle will burn temporaily when placed under a
jar, long enough to consume the limited bits of oxygen.
Twinks could feel her heart race. She knew it was only a matter of
time before James' sudden change of personality became the only thing
they talked about. Gone would be her butterfly ways. The smiles, the
giggles. Replaced by an anchor, a chain, and small calculated circles.
What will become of James and Twinks?
Write about small injuries
Stepping on a thorn, a paper cut, poking your finger with a sewing needle. Breaking a finger nail, stubbing your toe, burning your tongue on a hot marshmallow. Biting your tongue, a love bite from your cat. Having your foot stepped on, getting bumped with a shopping cart, a splinter of wood in your hand. Getting soap in your eye, or a speck of dust, water in your nose. Static electric shock. Dropping canned food on your toe. Getting you hair tangled in something. Smashing your finger with a hammer. Eating something too spicy, an ice cream headache. Smoke in your eyes, smelling a foul odor.
Write about a fortune-teller
A fortune teller had trouble paying rent.
Her money had all been spent.
She read her own fortune.
Her life needed morphin'.
While price tagging pottery.
She recalled the lottery.
Her guesses weren't right.
So much for insight.
Her money had all been spent.
She read her own fortune.
Her life needed morphin'.
While price tagging pottery.
She recalled the lottery.
Her guesses weren't right.
So much for insight.
High tide
I am not comfortable around large bodies of water, the beach is nice, but isn't my favorite place. I have watched the Discovery channel with footage of the tsunami and the water chasing the people to shore. The ocean is another world when the tide is high it is crossing the invisible boundary into our world. Hurricanes, and monsoons also
help the ocean penetrate this unseen line...I know this sort of thing isn't considered high tide...High tide is created when the sea conspires with the moon. Could the moon envy the Earth? Maybe the moon is calling out to the city Atlanis, awaiting it's return. High tide could be what brought the life of the sea onto the shore, dumped off and left there to take their first seering breathe of
help the ocean penetrate this unseen line...I know this sort of thing isn't considered high tide...High tide is created when the sea conspires with the moon. Could the moon envy the Earth? Maybe the moon is calling out to the city Atlanis, awaiting it's return. High tide could be what brought the life of the sea onto the shore, dumped off and left there to take their first seering breathe of
oxygen rich air.
It was as if...
Looking past the abandoned building I saw nothing, but earth and sky. In the distance I saw a figure dancing toward me. I was sure it
was the heat creating the image. Sashaying it was as if the desert was it's dance floor. The closer it approached I realized it was
enormous, it wasn't a person, at all, but a dust devil. Twirling,
lifting and dropping anything close enough to it's vortex. I was sure
it was coming straight at me, when it shifted direction at a right angle. It looked like it jumped straight up in the sky and vanished,
without any evidence because the dust easily took a seat. Unlike the old building near me. Time would not remember the this little spinner.
_____________
_____________
Where I live I am watching with a sad heart the over building of
homes, and businesses. I used to watch dust devils, wind through the
wide open spaces. Soon it will be impossible to see their crazy
dance. I long for wide open spaces to see nothing but earth and sky.
was the heat creating the image. Sashaying it was as if the desert was it's dance floor. The closer it approached I realized it was
enormous, it wasn't a person, at all, but a dust devil. Twirling,
lifting and dropping anything close enough to it's vortex. I was sure
it was coming straight at me, when it shifted direction at a right angle. It looked like it jumped straight up in the sky and vanished,
without any evidence because the dust easily took a seat. Unlike the old building near me. Time would not remember the this little spinner.
_____________
_____________
Where I live I am watching with a sad heart the over building of
homes, and businesses. I used to watch dust devils, wind through the
wide open spaces. Soon it will be impossible to see their crazy
dance. I long for wide open spaces to see nothing but earth and sky.
Orange is the color I remember
Orange is the color I remember...if it is a sunset or the color of
a leaf, a pumpkin, or a wall. The cones on a highway, or the flag
waved by the crewman working on the roadway. The orange vest of the
rescue worker....the orange tag on the reduced priced item...the color
brings me comfort...I look forward to seeing the color orange often
and when I don't, I remember it captured in such wonderful things.
a leaf, a pumpkin, or a wall. The cones on a highway, or the flag
waved by the crewman working on the roadway. The orange vest of the
rescue worker....the orange tag on the reduced priced item...the color
brings me comfort...I look forward to seeing the color orange often
and when I don't, I remember it captured in such wonderful things.
are you still?
Stand here,
be still.
Take in a breath
see what is in front of you.
Turn to the right,
don't stop, keep going.
Turn
find your eyes trying to focus, on familiar shapes, as they pass.
Turning, keep turning...
Don't try to hold your focus, let go , let your eyes see, your brain should observe and not react.
The colors will start to blend, into a continuous line.
The sense of spinning faster is heightened by how fast images are passing your eyes.
Creating a momentary feeling of exhilaration .
The inability to see anything specific causes you to
focus within.
Trying to make a connection through your sense of sight will make you ill.
Turning , keep turning.
The moment you stop
your body feels like it is still spinning.
Your eyes have become accustomed to seeing the blur.
Your body is still, your eyes aren't able to focus.
You are returning to the present, the here, the now.
The spiral, the spin, the turn
is the building block of life.
The Golden Rectangle
The double helix
Our journey to this spinning planet,
did it come from stillness?
be still.
Take in a breath
see what is in front of you.
Turn to the right,
don't stop, keep going.
Turn
find your eyes trying to focus, on familiar shapes, as they pass.
Turning, keep turning...
Don't try to hold your focus, let go , let your eyes see, your brain should observe and not react.
The colors will start to blend, into a continuous line.
The sense of spinning faster is heightened by how fast images are passing your eyes.
Creating a momentary feeling of exhilaration .
The inability to see anything specific causes you to
focus within.
Trying to make a connection through your sense of sight will make you ill.
Turning , keep turning.
The moment you stop
your body feels like it is still spinning.
Your eyes have become accustomed to seeing the blur.
Your body is still, your eyes aren't able to focus.
You are returning to the present, the here, the now.
The spiral, the spin, the turn
is the building block of life.
The Golden Rectangle
The double helix
Our journey to this spinning planet,
did it come from stillness?
are you still?
a wound that is sacred
Did you ever wish something and then it came true?
It wasn't enough and you wished again
Feeling like a spoiled brat, wanting something, not knowing what.
Did you ever feel slighted and not get your way
want and want everyday
Feeling life has passed you over
felt the hatred and rage of jealousy
Looked at yourself and then turn away
not recognizing who you see.
Is blame the main reason you've survived
a cup that is cracked never to be full
what a coincidence
your wound
has become you
trying to hide it makes it more obvious
try to reveal it, it becomes dubious
embrace it the test begins
try to fix it find your worthlessness
look at it see your beauty, and how hideous you are
a wound that is sacred
the pain ebb and flow
always always
being called back into earth
we are always walking on our grave.
Trip and fall, are you Thankful?
It wasn't enough and you wished again
Feeling like a spoiled brat, wanting something, not knowing what.
Did you ever feel slighted and not get your way
want and want everyday
Feeling life has passed you over
felt the hatred and rage of jealousy
Looked at yourself and then turn away
not recognizing who you see.
Is blame the main reason you've survived
a cup that is cracked never to be full
what a coincidence
your wound
has become you
trying to hide it makes it more obvious
try to reveal it, it becomes dubious
embrace it the test begins
try to fix it find your worthlessness
look at it see your beauty, and how hideous you are
a wound that is sacred
the pain ebb and flow
always always
being called back into earth
we are always walking on our grave.
Trip and fall, are you Thankful?
gravitate
When a person presents to the world a new idea, this has an effect on everyone. What is it that makes people gravitate to the familiar. What is familiar? If all things are familiar, somethings are forgotten, we know everything. Forgetting, not remembering. When a person brings together an idea and it (seems) so simple, so effortless, everyone is forever changed.
When someone brings together something on a personal level that makes us realize our morals, we look in ourselves to the foundations for the life we are living. We can ignore this on the basis of religion, or pride. We can follow without concern for public opinion. We can find the places within us to examine by exposing ourselves to the creativity of others. If you choose not too, it is still a choice. Make sure you realize that.
When someone brings together something on a personal level that makes us realize our morals, we look in ourselves to the foundations for the life we are living. We can ignore this on the basis of religion, or pride. We can follow without concern for public opinion. We can find the places within us to examine by exposing ourselves to the creativity of others. If you choose not too, it is still a choice. Make sure you realize that.
Handprints
my hands were used for someone elses greed
filled the sickness of needmy hands have been folded to pray
pick at the fabric of realities fray
my hands
felt the floor in the darkness
won't betray me
my hands
greet you in a first impression shake
tell me if you are real or fake
my hands
wiped tears from both eyes
never tell lies
filled the sickness of needmy hands have been folded to pray
pick at the fabric of realities fray
my hands
felt the floor in the darkness
won't betray me
my hands
greet you in a first impression shake
tell me if you are real or fake
my hands
wiped tears from both eyes
never tell lies
Somebody makes a promise
Somebody makes a promise and my hair stands on end. I don't let people make promises to me, because my hopes can't be wrapped around such an anchor. That said I was told to expect good things for good things to happen. For me that is a better place to put my hope, than into the words from the mouth of a human like myself. How often a word, once spoken, looses it's value as it drifts off into the thin air.
OrangY
Orange juice that is freshly squeezed,
full of pulp, and seeds.
Orange cut in wedges,
like a bright smile.
Orange peeled, and wedged
squirt the eye
You're the 'funnest' I've met
sweet, strange and combustible
you orangy thing.
full of pulp, and seeds.
Orange cut in wedges,
like a bright smile.
Orange peeled, and wedged
squirt the eye
You're the 'funnest' I've met
sweet, strange and combustible
you orangy thing.
The window had other views
The window had other views. One view was from the inside looking out. The other view was from the outside looking in. At certain times you could see your reflection in the window. The good thing about windows with other views, they don't form opinions
If I had my way
If I had my way and things went wrong, it would be ALL my fault. I just couldn't except that responsiblity. If I had my way and things went right, I couldn't handle the spotlight. I usually end up getting my way, it just never seems like it until a long time has passed. Then I see things from a different perspective. It seems so clear.
I stole a flower
Years ago I took a drawing class at the local college. One assignment was blind contour drawing. We had to blind contour draw a rose. I drove all over town looking for a rose. I could have just gone and purchased one at the flower shop. Instead I drove to the church and picked one that grew beneath a statue of Mary. I reasoned to myself it was like pruning the rose bush and more flowers would grow. If stealing makes us indebted to another, Mary gets an I.O.U .
Strappy Heels
I don't have those shoes anymore
The ones I bought for $3.00 at the second hand store.
I had gotten so used to wearing hand-me-downs my outfit never felt
right unless I had something that belonged to someone else first.
Walking in another persons shoes, was so easy for me.
Those shoes were great.
I wore them to the Symphony.
I wore them to see plays.
I wore them around the house.
Sometimes I only wore one because it was fun to step high
on one foot, and low on the other.
One day the heel broke. I took them to the cobbler.
The way the man held that shoe was like it was a glass slipper.
He studied it for awhile before writing my receipt.
He said "Oh yes, I can fix these. I have to fix these."
When I went back to pick them up, he wasn't wearing his hat, I could see his pointy ears.
As pointy as the toe of my shoes.
He handed them over the counter with his head bowed.
A real character he was.
Of course silly me. Now in hindsight,
can see those were special shoes. At the time did I know that. No!
I liked those shoes the color was perfect, and they fit me great too.
I never thought if I looked graceful in them, but it seemed like I was balanced.
Book on the head balanced.
My dance teacher almost died when she saw me wearing them.
" Those shoes are horrible for your feet, don't wear them!" She said.
"...But they feel so good, Mrs."
"Just don't wear them often, and don't eat too much baklava either." she pulped.
Even at her angriest she was always kind.
I think she loved my feet.
She was always commenting on my arches.
She invited me for tea at her house. It wasn't too long after that the shoe broke. I did wonder if she put a hex on them.
I remember another dancer asked me if I had been invited for tea yet.
I said "Yes."
She smiled.
I don't remember what happened to those shoes.
If I threw them in the trash can.
If I donated them to charity.
They are gone.
If sentiment is worthy of attention why doesn't it talk louder.
The ones I bought for $3.00 at the second hand store.
I had gotten so used to wearing hand-me-downs my outfit never felt
right unless I had something that belonged to someone else first.
Walking in another persons shoes, was so easy for me.
Those shoes were great.
I wore them to the Symphony.
I wore them to see plays.
I wore them around the house.
Sometimes I only wore one because it was fun to step high
on one foot, and low on the other.
One day the heel broke. I took them to the cobbler.
The way the man held that shoe was like it was a glass slipper.
He studied it for awhile before writing my receipt.
He said "Oh yes, I can fix these. I have to fix these."
When I went back to pick them up, he wasn't wearing his hat, I could see his pointy ears.
As pointy as the toe of my shoes.
He handed them over the counter with his head bowed.
A real character he was.
Of course silly me. Now in hindsight,
can see those were special shoes. At the time did I know that. No!
I liked those shoes the color was perfect, and they fit me great too.
I never thought if I looked graceful in them, but it seemed like I was balanced.
Book on the head balanced.
My dance teacher almost died when she saw me wearing them.
" Those shoes are horrible for your feet, don't wear them!" She said.
"...But they feel so good, Mrs."
"Just don't wear them often, and don't eat too much baklava either." she pulped.
Even at her angriest she was always kind.
I think she loved my feet.
She was always commenting on my arches.
She invited me for tea at her house. It wasn't too long after that the shoe broke. I did wonder if she put a hex on them.
I remember another dancer asked me if I had been invited for tea yet.
I said "Yes."
She smiled.
I don't remember what happened to those shoes.
If I threw them in the trash can.
If I donated them to charity.
They are gone.
If sentiment is worthy of attention why doesn't it talk louder.
~
Like the colors in a rainbow
are always the same
some promises can't be broken
~
the voice
I keep hearing this voice saying, "Why haven't you done anything with your life yet". Just when I am about to answer, the same voice says "You only get one lifetime!" Then continues with "It really wont matter anyway since everything has been done before and there is nothing new. If by chance you have an orginal thought it will be ignored long enough to be forgotten then reintroduced by someone else that has it copyrighted and trademarked, and you will spend the rest of your life saying that was my idea, and end up being remembered as the person that was always overlooked. So just shut up, and stop complaining. Why haven't you done anything with your life yet?"
Finally I say "I am trying."
Finally I say "I am trying."
comparing can't compare
the subtle difference of this leaf or that
comparing can't compare
what I see or you see
comparing can't compare
perceptions, or points of view
comparing can't compare
the natural order of life
comparing can't compare
knowing, when one knows who they are.
the subtle difference of this leaf or that
comparing can't compare
what I see or you see
comparing can't compare
perceptions, or points of view
comparing can't compare
the natural order of life
comparing can't compare
knowing, when one knows who they are.
Driving through town on Saturday night. The windows rolled down,
I could smell restaurants cooking food, and the intermitten fragrance of perfume, and colonge.
Combined with the sanctimonious sparkles of traffic, I felt dizzy and nauseated.
It seemed chaotic, and empty, but full of activity. Saturday Night always seems to be full of nervous chatter.
I could smell restaurants cooking food, and the intermitten fragrance of perfume, and colonge.
Combined with the sanctimonious sparkles of traffic, I felt dizzy and nauseated.
It seemed chaotic, and empty, but full of activity. Saturday Night always seems to be full of nervous chatter.
Stood in one Place
who has stood in one place long enough to see that the dirt changes color
from day to night
season to season
year to year
parched summer earth looks different
than the cold sloggy mud of winter
what color hides beneath the green of spring
what color hides beneath the crisp warmth of Autumn. There it is underfoot,
look down,
stoop,
reach out,
kneel .
who has stood in one place long enough to see that the dirt changes color
from day to night
season to season
year to year
parched summer earth looks different
than the cold sloggy mud of winter
what color hides beneath the green of spring
what color hides beneath the crisp warmth of Autumn. There it is underfoot,
look down,
stoop,
reach out,
kneel .
When the waning moon rises
the sun will rise in a few hours
another day comes
another day
added to all the other
days
adding up to years,
years
When emotions rise
the memories will rise soon after
more of the same
added to all the other
pains
adding up to reactions
reactions that make no sense
Afraid to believe
Afraid to let go
head on a pillow
the crescent looks like a smile
the sun will rise in a few hours
another day comes
another day
added to all the other
days
adding up to years,
years
When emotions rise
the memories will rise soon after
more of the same
added to all the other
pains
adding up to reactions
reactions that make no sense
Afraid to believe
Afraid to let go
head on a pillow
the crescent looks like a smile
Life is Fair
observation wheel
going in circles
cotton candy
teddy bears
the fun house with it's mirrors
screams and giggles
going in circles
cotton candy
teddy bears
the fun house with it's mirrors
screams and giggles
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