Memorial Day

“I love you baby doll.”  “You make the sun shine on such a rainy ole day.”  ”I just need to see your smile.”  ”Good morning sweetheart.”

 

I miss you so very much and I love you dad.

Believe

If you look, you will find me.

Stop running, just lay,

and you will find me.

Listen, and you will hear.

Me whisper your name.

For I am the wind wrapped around you,

the trees that block the rain -

for you.

Just find me.

As your heart beats, so does mine,

as your mind wonders, so does mine.

Listen to your heart, follow the beat

feel the gentle earth, and the whispers of my breath.

For I am here.

I am the wind.

I am the trees.

Calling.

Epiphany

The end is here.  I have to forget. 

 When I feel lonely – he must be forgotten. 

When I am feeling bad - he must get out of my mind. 

When I feel lost – I must turn my back to the East, and look towards the West and pray that I am found and realization is just a sunset away. 

Beauty lies within and when I feel ugly and discounted.  I must reach within and pull out the stars, the golden sun, the purity of sincerity and grasp the pretty flowers that blossom within and hold hope close to my heart.  Because I can only fulfill my journey– if the belief of the end can open a gate to my future.  A future of creativity. —-  To nurture another.  To self-sacrifice —- those are my true meanings. 

Love is like the wind, it must be felt – never seen.  And to have felt a love like ours was my miracle.  Mine to hold forever and reflect upon when hopelessness is yawning with the morning dew.  Angels DO appear and angels WILL reappear. 

Despair will slowly fade …… Promises are in the sunlight reflecting on the snow.  They are just shadows reminding me to appreciate my surroundings and to just stop  and to always smile.   

Thank you my angel.  Thank you for everything.

Believe………………….

Peace

Silence, is my killer.  It lurks like cancer.

I smell death.

The sounds.  Nature I carefully swaddle.

I hold on to synthetic comfort.  My heart is full, while my soul is empty.

Longing, searching for peace.

The cold air lurks.  Questions of tainted love, plague my mind.

The cancer is back.  Silence is my killer.

Once laughing, the ferris wheel turns.  High on life, once laughing — the wheel must stop.

Does everything come to an end?

Men with baggage

Have you ever stared at men looking in a hole while holding shovels?  Yes, these are working “men”?  In their eyes, they are………. But they still hold baggage. 

Men with baggage carry their life in a suitcase that is entangled, causing prominent pain and severe walking problems.  This “baggage”  strangles their sense of commons, it restricts their blood flow to the brain, it also depletes them from an honest answer.  But they still hold their Samsonite —- closely to their genitals like jockey underwear and gold balm.  They have their pride. 

Ode to the bricks, load them one by one, stack them high and thick; inside that suitcase………. because you deserve every little piece of sand that brick possesses. 

I’ll just be out here enjoying life and breathing while imagining you straddling your baggage.

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.