Baby Steps

And he said, let’s take it slow……

Let’s slow dance in the living room,

while cars pass by, while the darkness lights our world.

Treat me gently, a fragile soul that’s lost.

Lost in love, lost in faith.

On the package it reads “Handle with care.”

Breathe and take care of me.

Like a newborn baby, our love is delicate.

Petals blowing in the wind, feathers soften our heads.

Our travels have been rough, lots of sadness

Lately.

A lot of worries, so much that the world won.

He gave in to that “statistic.” 

Statistics that give statistics.

Good and bad.

I can’t choose either side.

For I am the queen of my universe.

Not society.  I never gave into them.

I never stopped believing in the dream.

The baby steps of life.  They will get us there.

Slowly and safely — we will defeat and prove

to one another that we persevere.

We matter and our joy will carry us, when our feet are weary.

So when you see one set of foot prints, please don’t give up.

One of us was carried, while the other kept the pace.

The pace of a perfect life.  The steps that got us there was worth

every move……………………… because love was our destiny.

Fate is our legacy.  Happiness is our reason.

Smells like Christmas

The clouds above are covered with white linen.

Feathers of flakes fall upon my face,

Blankenting me with coolness, my hands break free.

I spin around and around in celebration of snow.

It’s here.

Mother Nature is painting her world.

Galileo is speaking.  Poe is rejoicing and falling in love with

Lucy.

The softness bestills my heart, and the air is magical.

It smells like Christmas.

Christmas feels like family, I want that smell.

Hands are as cold as our winter noses.  Eskimos kiss to stay warm.

Like Christmas.

I’m glad to meet you in the winter time, so our tracks can provide a

trail to follow, if we ever wish to go back home.

For Christmas.

I’d wrap you in a box and place a bow on top. Just to smell the pleasant aroma of Christmas.

Let me wrap my arms around you and place my bow on your lips. 

Christmas wouldn’t be right, without you and I opening up and sharing ourselves.

Come to Christmas………. and bring the snow.

See you there!

Synchronized Lines

Sometimes when the wind blows, it blows so hard and rough,

it makes me wonder.

I wonder if i’ve found the wind, or did the wind find me?

Smoke follows beauty? Why can’t wind?

 

While here in this moment!  I physically and mentally feel so inadequate and helpless.

Life is pulling me down, creating havoc in my mind.  I am a monster. 

My worst enemy is looking back at me, in my bathroom mirror.

Anarchy – total chaos.  I’m chasing my tail, around and around I go.

Then an idea rescued me, and suddenly I could breathe again.

 

The escape.  Running away.  It isn’t as easy as I thought; it’s an adrenalin rush of “fear”.

I wanted to meet my maker, and demand answers for all the why’s I’ve gone through!

I began by deliberately searching phone books; in everyplace that I could.  I found 3″ sometimes 4″ of  “life”.

It took about 9 hours to reach sanity.  I felt like I was literally at the end of the earth……….

Then, another 5 hours to reach the salty waters of Galveston.

Every mile, was a feeling that gave me hope. 

I looked around the great big open land and realized,

it’s not just “us”.  The whole world is going through some sort of crisis. 

They’re all feeling the wrath of life.  My life-preserver is on, I’ve got a loaded gun, my knife is at my side……

I’m ready to face ME.                       “Let the games begin?”

 

Broken yellow lines of welcome —- me.  They’re supportive. So inviting…

I’m going somewhere, maybe to Paradise?

Change is good, Coping is my weakness and “coping” may take several days,

Because most of the time, coping requires me to run away.  I crave aloneness. 

I feel that dealing with all of my challenges, this fast, is like racing cars on my circular mind track.

My guinea pig , that’s in my mind, on that wheel — has died.  Of exhaustion.

I thought I could keep up, but my thoughts are out of control and in despair.

Thank God for yellow lines………. bury the pig.

 

I have time alone, a lot of creative opportunities to remember any accomplishments I’ve done.

“Count my blessings, be thankful”, people say. 

When you’re in a cold, empty box, that’s virtually impossible.

I drove for hours, yearning to find…………. something, I was on a self adventure to find myself.

I looked for life.  I needed to step back and see this big picture. 

I watched the sky, smelled the air, and I just wanted to appreciate something, anything……..

What I needed was to appreciate ME. 

It was necessary.  I had allowed so many “people” to label me,  judge me, and use me for too damn long!

It has always been impossible for me to see all the trees because of the big forest of reality.

The box was so easy to jump into, but I could not see outside of those 4 sharp corners!

So literally I have to step away from all the crap and just watch.

It is like watching a movie, and you’re the director, the actress, and the producer.

I did just that.  I was living a movie.  I had to go to that 3rd person scenario. 

 

Why is pain so clear by our facial expressions?  It’s not superficial.  It’s real.

 

I am not running from any one thing nor am I running from any some thing.  Actually I’m running to me.

The trees, were magnificent, the flowers so dainty.  The people were there.   Life exists!

Fragile textiles ravish the land.  It appears that this state is so flat, in comparison to my Missoury.

All the southern hospitality were accepting and kind.  But, the ocean is what I remember the most……

The ocean will always stand out in my memory, as if I am there all time.

When I saw the ocean, I prayed.  Take me away…….

I needed those sounds, the intense salty smell, the mere, luscious beauty of the water —

I prayed that all of this would be stamped or tattooed in my memory forever.

 

 

This was the resource that I was going to use to prove that there is life out here.  No more bubbles.  No more boxes.

I’ve been sheltered too long and confined in cuffs.  I need to feel my blood pumping again, and heal my heart which is definitely in remission.

The stressors, such as unemployment, finances, my broken summer heart, my family, and court have created havoc in my mind and has weakened my spirit.

My soul is searching for serotonin.  My body is suffering from toxic people.

The ocean is my freedom.  I’ll use it to remind me that I belong somewhere.  There.

 

As I drove, I listened.  I listened to me.  It wasn’t noise anymore, as I drove away.  I was rocking out on life in it’s pureness.

It is amazing to create and be able to find my groove.  I found me today and it’s a beautiful sight.

My angel wings brought me to a sandy oasis and I walked.

It was a long pier.  As long as I ever seen. 

I walked it.  I was alone with myself.  I was eager to reach the end.

I cried and then laughed at myself!  Repeatedly!  Again and again.

I looked up at the sky, then I reached out to the open sea.

My eyes were supportive, and like the ocean freedom, my soul and mind slowly became free.

I cried out “I love you”.  And magically I felt like a princess, maybe even a Goddess of the sea. 

I finally made peace with little me.

 

My journey is a success. 

I will never forget the promises I made to myself. 

The goals that I will eventually meet. 

The forgiveness I had to give, that released “them” from taking any and all my energy, ever again. 

And lastly, I promised that I would never forget or lose my groove again. 

 And a new beginning has begun, a new me.

Welcome to Chapter 1.

Thanksgiving Day

Thank you for bringing life to death……..

To imagine one’s life departed maybe morbid, but necessary when appreciating and accepting truths.

Trueths suck.  But can be worked through and new days come everyday, to flush the old ones away.

Life is good today.  Bearable and nice.

Because it’s Thanksgiving.  Maybe I can create everyday a holiday whereas I can always be thank ful?

Maybe?

November Rain

Calmness stares while my storm dances. 

Silence fills the room, while my mind screams

in terror…… am I alone?

My stomach aches to the beat of an unknown band.

Death lurks in the shadows of past thoughts.

Emptiness fills the spaces in my heart.

Smells linger, awakening the nightmare.

Why am I scared?

Mirrors hide – my innocent face.

plaguing my heart with guilt.

How can that be?

The narcissistic war has begun.  I wave my worn white flag.

November picnics.

 

Where is Alphabet Street anyway?

Why is this so easy for them?

They are on the outside, looking in.

Watching the show!!  Munching on popcorn.

And I cry.  The audience watches.  Andy rewinds, again.

Just another one of those tragic love story’s.

Of mine.

 

For once.  I want out.  I hurt.

Lead me, take me…. I will follow.

Eager to create, to find, to finally rest

My heart. 

What can change in November?

Somber innocent November.

I hurry up to wait.

Again?

Why can’t you trust?

Me?

Where is your heart in November?

It’s as lost as your soul.

But your spirit is still with me.

This November.

 

What is your message?  You confusingly speak.

Dancing words are so easy to say.  So difficult to believe.

I’m leery to listen.

My eagerness is vanishing.

In November.

Viva la vida

 I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy’s eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing
“Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!”

One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can’t explain
Once you go there was never
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn’t believe what I’d become

Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can’t explain
I know Saint Peter won’t call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can’t explain
I know Saint Peter won’t call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

I love you!

The Beatles

Lennon/McCartney

From The Blue Album

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.
There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

Rainy Days

When the rain falls, dripping from the sky,

I feel as though I’m in a cloud.

caught up in a storm.

Sometimes extremely turbulent conditions.

My head is clouded, my thoughts are foggy.

Why?

Partly cloudy with a chance of sunshine.

Is it really all in my mind?

Does the weather channel really know?

Textbooks, magazines, pamphlets…

Mind over matter………….. Is that even true?

Don’t cry over someone that will not cry over you.

Baby doll.

Chasing me.

I’m thinking of “him” again tonight.   Each thought brings me to complete and utter ecstasy.  I dream of past days when ”he” was here.  He was dependable and I could call on him for anything at anytime.  Where did my lover go?  Why did he leave? 

If a man leaves than he’s not happy. 

Is this true?  Is this “man” really a boy?  Is this “boy” just a fantasy?  Am I dreaming of the “lover” that he may eventually, in time, become?  Am I wasting my heart on emptiness?  Is this “man” happy?  I question so many of my thoughts.  I analyse until I’ve mutilated the thought and broken it into pieces that only fill my stomach with garbage and my head with trash.  Eventually, that “thought” becomes a “stressor” and I find myself barricaded in my own tiny circle, my tiny circle of chaos. 

Alone, that’s where I am.  I am like uncharted waters.  An island.  The moon.  I’m free to only think of thoughts and they all belong to me. I’m so responsible for myself.  I’m not happy.  I’m not satisfied.  I share.  It makes me happy to give to someone else.  That’s my reason.  That’s my purpose.  I’ve lost the soul to share ME with.  If I’ve lost him, I’ve lost myself.  For I am walking to go nowhere and   I’m overlooking a beautiful shore to only smile within.  I’m having a conversation with a computer.  A blog.  An opportunity to sort and “analyse” and tear apart an already broken thought. 

Have you ever needed someone so bad that you became the victim?  That they are your reason to raise your head, venture to anywhere only to find yourself lost in the dream that maybe, just maybe, he may feel the same way and meet you at the cross roads eager to hold you, and anxious to see you smile, and being so distraught words cannot be found?  That’s me…. chasing a dream.  It has always been just a dream.

Creation

Sometimes, it’s not easy to be me.

To be the person that I’ve become,

Is the most beautiful being one can be.

That’s probably a matter of opinion….. but

It’s really me, so I smile.

I think oceans are erotic,

I like to sit and close my eyes and dream,

Imagining I’m sitting near the ocean,

I am now warm.

 

I love to watch.  Observe.  Dream.

The sun shines as I lay on my back -

watching the clouds move and the creations they so imitate.

The leaves on the trees change, winter is approaching.

The sound of children laughing; their innocents is like magic.

I think the warm sand beneath my toes, is tender. 

As I take that walk on the sandy shore,

I remember that the closest thing to the Softness of sand

Is your hands gliding and touching me

everywhere.

So most of the time, I want to be me…. because I share life

with you.

And like a blossom- we will become!