"where the sun smoothes the dust-dry earth"  

the summer is not poetic,  
what is there in the gold
of the sun to write about?
just the heat and the stones
washed flat.  
the signs say you can't swim.
everything has stopped.  
there is no music in the air,
the mornings shrill and hum,
the afternoons drowse with beer.
is the ocean going to wake for me?
will it dance like a flower?  
along the dust black roads
the tarmac starts to sweat.  
torn open the thundering roads,
there is no poetry in them either.  
everywhere there are green leaves
and little drops of peace in the shade.

my eyes were bloodshot. I'm not quite sure if it's from inhaling gusts of smoke or loss of sleep. buzzed nights kept me up until sunrise, most of them were hours I wish I had spent asleep.

your green eyes reminded me of the earth after a rainfall, alive but sad. they shot bullets into mine without ever considering the exit wound.  you should have known, you could gaze into my soul and see your reflection staring right back at you.

I learned the difference between love and lust. one takes your breath away and the other leaves you wishing your lungs would run out of oxygen. turns out, I can't really decide which one is which.

what I do know is, his eyes were filled with lust instead of love. he wanted my hands to fix every broken bone of his. and no matter how many times he tried to convince people he was okay, I knew he only used my lips as a way for him to feel better about himself.

but his kiss felt right. the ferocity of lighting and the calmness of rain all at once. baby, he was the whole ******* storm. every time the clouds covered the sun, I thought of the way his eyes closed.

but the problem was, he kissed her when the taste of me was still on his tongue.

and I tried to forget about him by forcing love on another who's kiss felt more like the vast, empty blue sky rather than the danger and wonder of everything held within the blue. nothing ever works out if you try too hard. my mind kept telling me that making love to this boy wouldn't be making love at all. so I held myself back and spent my night alone.

this is how December ended, more lonely than how it began.

"I'm NOT going to tell you
this is NOT
JUST a test
like I tell ALL the rest

that it's ONLY
a test?
C'mon
you should know better"

I'm noticing this guy has a lot of ink
all over
and the darkest kind

"So it's NOT
Not an ordinary exam?
this ain't basketball tryouts?"
I ask...
"I just took a walk in the park
had a...
white
****** knuckle sandwich
I played pinochle
with the Old Man
rode in bear backed
like Lady Godiva...."

I heard
words &
Maniacal laughter
played by symphony  of demons
& smirking
violinists in the background

"I'll tell you it
is
in
FACT
a
TEST
****
a super difficult one..."
then

".....continue reading my contract...."

reading and absorbing
unfathomable amounts of learning
and yearning
with
excellent Earning Potential
requires a decent,
above average
genius IQ
i don't need anything
other than...
to
leave my heart behind
and any other angels
my set of wings
saved aside
this is just a ride
I tell myself
they cast him out you know
fallen Angel
and....no other Gods, Mommy, Daddy, deities....xcetera.

"logically it's been there all along
everyone hears me
not like you can IGNORE my voice
you've seen my ad...."

(a bony finger with a long sharp nail
points upward)...

"up there
you know where...
on the billboard in Times Square
i am 100% certain it was you"

and it is
here I am.
Okay, I'm in control...breathe
take a sip of moonshine first
shhhhh...
listen
a little chuckle

Lucifer continues....

"You can bring Conscience along
she has been cleared.. "
Loudspeaker coming on
"We repeat
this is NOT a Strong Storm warning
there won't be any arms waving
no lights like at the airport
telling you where to land
no hands outside the vehicle
or for holding"

A pause,
finally...in closing
he looks my way...saying

"You'll stop at the Crossroads
lose the shirt
see a
blinking Amber Alert
don't stop at the bar
no flirting....

look back
actually there's a poetic flood
it's coming
that 'deluge' of your
bloodstained Indigo ink"
filled paper
boats are
floating &
he is gloating
"you might refer to the Ark section
of your Manual
before it's time to go...."

I gather important
necessary documents
for example making sure my will is signed
on the dotted line
***** donor checked off
blood type
leaving all others behind
no certainty of any kind
may not return
from an
Unknown Destination
things tend to get worse
  before they get better
  grab a sweater
a bumpy ride
my friend
dragging those
    sharpened ink filled
       fingertips
       down a chalkboard...
       I  buckle up
   transportation provided
nausea subsided
here I go
down below
  "I thought
     I would
     always have to
      take you
       kicking......
        & screaming
        still saying the
        Lord's Prayer
        signed, sealed
          & delivered."
         I smile...
         nod ...
          I say
         "Yut...
           guess so"
            time to go
           getting up
            from a chair...
             & I swear
              I am
              walking
               out
                no
                room
                for
 ­                any
                 doubt.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

When life comes to seem like
A superhuman feat

When you're in the quicksand
With lead shoes on your feet

When you're supposed to serve 10 people
And you have nothing to eat

There's nothing to be done
God does not text or tweet

You look upwards toward heaven
And the question's on repeat


(Chorus)
"Why God? (3X) WHY ME???
I've had enough now.... I call Uncle!
Can't you let me be?
I'm sorry but there's been a mistake
Can't you even see?

I'm supposed to PROSPER!
But I'm in prison... I'm not FREE!


I cried all this in anguish
Cried my very best

Had a huge crushing Boulder
Lying on my chest

Then God sent an answer
And this is what it said...


You're just in a test my dear
You are in a trial

You knew it is a fiery one
And that fires are wild

I have confidence in your ability
I made you strong. my child

Though the Tempest's Rising
I can make it mild



My son had a bad hair day
Great big spiky thorns

They took his only clothing
In nothing adorned

His beard pulled out and spat on
Persecuted. Scorned.

You know all he went through

But for this was he born


You prayed you could be like him
You prayed for closeness here

With my one son Jesus
But I want to make this clear

If you want him close to you
If you want him there

You will pay a price
And it will be dear

I'm training you with mine own voice
Patience! Do you hear?

Do not worry in the least
Please, child, have no fear


When it's the last minute...


THAT'S WHEN I'LL APPEAR!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/31/2016