shelley-1
No need to tell you about my self-explanatory love for words (isn't that why we're all here?)... I will, however, tell you about my love for the great outdoors, for seeing new things and meeting new people, for picnics, for photographs, for books that beg to be read in a single sitting, for cozy naps, for baking up a storm, for corduroy and sweaters, for real(crackling,wood) fires, for junior mints, for arts&crafts, for laying beneath the stars, and for conversations that are courageous enough to delve beneath the sticky surface that traps most of our utterances.
Bitterness
"What an appropriate name," she thought
"for this foul feeling that tastes so akin to bile."
She ran her tongue along the ridges of her hard palate,
hoping that her saliva might creep into every crevice
and cleanse her being of this sharp vindictiveness -
Sour anger that left a trail of puncture-wound footprints across her shrinking heart
Equally corrosive and repulsive as it flowed through her bloodstream
She clenched her fists in an attempt to catch the feeling before it traveled another inch
As physical as it it felt - running through her, running over her -
she eventually came to understand that her ailment was far from physical
When she could no longer stand it, she fell to her knees
And prayed to a God in whom she'd never believed
The intellectual in her pushed Him away with embarrassment
The seven-year-old in her embraced Him like a dearly missed imaginary friend
An internal tug-of-war ensued, but was short lived
The vivacious strength of her young heart
Quickly lost to the tired feebleness of her old mind
She set aside her pride, calling out the suppressed longings of her soul
Much to her surprise, she felt an immediate loosening of ties
Weights lifted; beliefs shifted - everything seemed to fall into place
She let out the deep, deep breath she'd unknowingly held
And recognized a feeling of ease and serenity that had evaded her for months
She realized with a smile that she was grateful for the bile
For without its damage, she never would have met her healer
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 12:06 AM UTC
The cover of the night.
My haven
Like the werewolves,
Like the vampires
Beams of sunlight
wrap me in chains
of daytime normalcy,
of the mundane
*Sleepwalking
actually happens in waking hours
And darkness
clouds the day*
The moon rises
to take the place of my other captor
and to release
the Lunatic in me
Free to roam,
with the North Star
guiding my footie-pajama-ed feet
down starlit paths of wonder
Dec 14, 2011
Dec 14, 2011 at 5:11 AM UTC
feigning performance
pleasing the convinced, clapping crowd
of duped deafs
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 9:42 PM UTC
Flying
is not some motion
caused by wings
or a propeller of sorts //
But rather a freedom
that comes with the absence of weight
And today
I soar.
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
There once was a boy who knew
her lines were drawn in the sand
he knew where she chose to stand
but he ebbed and flowed like the tide
and washed all her lines away
the tides tumultuously turned:
took off running and left her burned
when he whose first step seemed harmless
acted thoughtlessly against her No's
quickly the sand turned quick
her body began to stick
- to his, and she sank
unwillingly into his rhythms
forever changed her rhythms, her course
with the force of his own ***********
Ignored her Pleads
for the sake of his "needs"
recollections slightly blurred
but it's unfogged that he heard
he Knew.
he knew.
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 1:04 AM UTC
Another drop. I writhe.
My insides scream
Stop your tears!
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 12:29 AM UTC
Busied myself
and missed yesterday
marking three years since you
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 12:31 PM UTC
Don't
Smile sympathetically
Hold my hand
Act like you know
Nov 13, 2011
Nov 13, 2011 at 4:18 PM UTC
Flat on my back
enveloped by the contrast
of warm light above and cold rock below
Remove the unobtrusive speakers from my ears
that now seem so obtrusive in this other world
this outside world
As I exchange the music I carry with me
for the music the wind carries
The music this world carries
I open one eye to peek skyward
And am forced to squint
finally to blink shut
my pupil overwhelmed by the grandeur of
The sun
- wait, no. A second squint reveals
only vibrant leaves turned
to blazing shades of warmth,
Backlit by the glow of that big daytime star
How can foliage produce so great a radiance?
And I lay to rest my worries
lay to rest the day's commotion
For the squirrels cause the only commotion here
Yet their antics cannot disturb me
As long as this unending water flows, undisturbed
The rocks in its path not obstacles but
friends she kisses on her endless journey
past them
past me and my thoughts
Carrying my heaviness away
The stream of water
A stream of light from above
My stream of consciousness
Mingled with the stream of birds' chatter
All circulating the one great question:
Why return indoors?
Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 8:05 PM UTC
Friday Evening
The snowflakes fell, cold
Your coat on my shoulders, warm
The night, idyllic
Saturday Afternoon
Empty park, blue sky
Walking, streaming thoughts of us
This big world is ours
Sunday Morning
I did the crossword
Your name among its answers,
My constant answer
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 5:52 PM UTC