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In my photo album there's a black and white snapshot from your old Kodak camera. I'm sitting upon your stalwart shoulders with a backdrop of mountainous desert. Upon your height my head is above the hills my smile brighter than the whole blue sky.

I still remember that day. We went to Picacho Peak with a picnic lunch and climbed through the rocks, investigated the arroyos. The desert was alive with wildflowers. I collected some and brought them to you - you named every one.
Bluish-purple lupine. Yellow rabbit's bush.
Orange African daisies. Bright desert poppies. Indian paintbrush, flaring strokes of carmine fire. Pale pink globe mallow.

You have such a brilliant mind, a scientist in love with nature. I think you collected some seed to plant with the cacti in your backyard garden...

I still remember. It was a day that stands like that peak in my memory. The breeze in my curls way up high, upon those mountainous shoulders. It whispered to me of the desert spirits. And our guardian angels sang of the wonders of freedom.

I know you heard it, too.


♡ your daughter,
                   Catherine


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/20/2016
For my father Clinton E. Jarvis.
I love you, dad!

(I'm visiting with my dad today. This is an early birthday present!
Sorry I can't read today. It's going to be very busy for me.)
You are the words I speak
The pause in between
Where I linger for a while

You are the thoughts I seek
The inspiration from within
Where I submerge denial

You are my heartbeat at its peak
The blood rush through ravine
Where all is cleansed of vile

You are the irrationality I tweak
The insanity that was forseen
Where I lose myself and smile

You are the glow that leaks
The inner beauty that they all mean
Where it paints all I see mile by mile
Shared on Hello Poetry on February 9, 2016
Copywrite under Bianca Reyes
All rights reserved
Blah blah blah
Enjoy....maybe?
Where the grasses magically pirouette , where Spanish Moss dances . The illusion of Oaks kissing the land off in the distance ..
As leaves rejoice and sprint green fields in search of home , sweet gum cones shine like silver dollars ..
Studious farm animals graze upon endless fodder , Pekin ducks
imbibe indigo blue waters ..
Where the Sun caresses the back of my neck and shoulders , where my
Grandfather waves , reading Whitman from his porch ..
White Turkeys brighten the rural horizon , the scent of homegrown tomatoes tickles my nose , the allure of honeysuckle fence line and prickly , white Cherokee rose ..
Copyright January 25 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I cultivated something under the snow
Sewed it deep to watch it grow
I felt the roots take and the warmth on my face
Resonating from the hearts I had froze

I shuddered against the intense heat
Battling my soul within a heartbeat
The seconds pass but the moments last
As the past slowly puts me to sleep

And of what should I dream but the bloodless seeds
And their chilled heartbeat from underneath
The silence sweeps as I wake and weep
And reflect, I respect that I cut too deep
And your demons escaped
But in my defense, recompense was achieved,
You did bleed, but never believed in Band-Aid
And every hand laid against you was desired
You're hardwired for self-defeat

I crush myself amidst my own callous hate
Bringing to light a dreadful new fate
With scars that burn and the images they create
Collapsing, falling under the massive weight
And suddenly you surround me
Making it difficult to breathe
But all the lies you never did believe
A layer of doubt hidden beneath
Typically speaking, you never say what you mean
 Jan 2016 Randy Bryte
OnwardFlame
Its cold in my room tonight
Throat swollen, mouth tastes just like
Two days ago, weeping on my bed
Your face so red, eyes swelling
Like all the times I admitted
The hole that I am constantly trying to fill.

I remember just for a brief moment
Maybe because the past has skated through my mind
Via the interwebs tonight
I started to feel faint
As we stood, looking down at the performers from up above
We had to leave, you were so mad at me
Local dive bar by my old Philadelphia house
That my darkest past now resides and plays house in
Perhaps cooking stuffed chicken with goat cheese
And all the times I hopped in a cab and tried to leave
All the scratches and ****** marks, holes in walls near my head
Painted on me like cinnamon or paprika spices
Behind.
I remember sitting in the booth, across from you
My Artsy Cynical Bohemian
I was so much lighter before you drove your fingernails
Into the shoulder blades of my back
With black dust and pointed silver
But you didn't know you were digging up buried wings.
I can't quite pin point specific words that were said
But I remember feeling a deep neglect.

It feels like just yesterday
My life was completely different
Walking outside my little stairs
Cafes and restaurants all around me
Swiftly kicking my legs to the gym
Or a friends to smoke ****
Walking dogs all hours of the day
Sleep overs, red velvet pancake
Inking our notebooks with evocative thoughts, creations
So hopeful, full of dreams
Worried about the little things
Pumpkin spice, or all the boys I cried over
Everything feeling and seeming so complex
But so very small.

I wonder how it all fairs, without me now
As it takes me 45 minutes to get anywhere
In the icy windy city
And this is the most sick I have repeatedly been
Since I was a little kid
Mama wishes I was home so that she could take care of me
As I try to rationalize my love life
Or confusing "lack" of one over mobile devices.

I think this is the most alone I've ever been
If you could write that out just like I did
With my calligraphy pen, a sweet Christmas gift
From a dear friend
Who often sits next to me, deep in thought
His thoughts distracted, it seems as though he
Would rather be anywhere else
But we play drinking games, my eyes tantalizing
Passing out in the Lost Boys bedroom
As you read these words,
I want you to take a deep moment to think about
How richly good it felt for you to hold me in your arms
To cover me in forgotten kisses, caresses
As you fall asleep tonight
Embracing or running away from the image of my
Corn husk face
In your butterfly colored mind.

"Your body is bangin.' You have the body of a **** star."
Another said to me just earlier this week.
He's tried to see me several times since then
As I prefer my own company.

Its funny how my mind will imagine
And write stories
Doors closing in my face as new ones widely open
Back to you.
Lets freeze time for a singular moment
Walking past the train that sunny fall day
Damen blue line, your hand gently grazed in between
Where my wings use to--
Where my wings are--
Where my
What a sorrowful day that was.
You agree with me, you say
As we text across the bus or train
Adoring each other like strangers
Fleeting, intoxicating moments
And the hard cold fact
Is that I haven't felt this way
In a very long ******* time
And I don't know when I will again.

Tick ******* tock.
If I were a superhero
I would fly high into the clouds and give everyone lasting
Happiness.

Until something levels better comes along
I am reassured,
My throat welling up as if caught in a blender
That I dive into with blueberries, frozen banana
As you cuddle me, big white tennis shoes
But such a small frame
I see you and I see you and I begin to still
Even see you
For who and what you really are now.

Nina Simone
I watched her on my computer screen tonight
What a mighty, mighty woman
Worshipped, misunderstood
Beautiful, talent like a phoenix
Crooning her art into existence.

And there it is again
A fleeting moment of the past
And how hard I tried to make that
Into a lasting entity.
My God, I have spent my life
Trying to make it work.
Buying a drink, waiting for you
I remember the first time you almost left me
I was so ashamed of myself the next day
For having almost caused you to do such a thing
We met up on the street,
The Philly sunshine springing towards us
As you patted and tapped my *****, so lovingly
Like I would always be yours.

But we changed, or maybe we never really were
And I see the twinkling lights
Of when my mother smoked a cigarette in front of you
As you both inhaled and exhaled smoke
In what I wanted to be
Our fairytale story, purple cauliflower
And I knew deep in my heart
That you had no prominent plans
For our future.

My Little Peter Pan
You are the first to really
Do that
Since him
And there is a sense of such love, contentment
In those love taps
On the backside you deem:
"So Coppertone."

I worry and I fear my own ticking clock
Of being stuck or isolated in never fully moving forward
As powerful women sit merely feet away from me
Empowering and inspiring, living and dreaming
Having their art, their families, their love
I want it all.

But in time, in time
As I gaze at age 25
Lament not having this or that
So many text messages
You or he or they
Shield me from ripping your heart into pieces
As I lay next to you floating in a terminal of wine and whiskey
Men around me saying they have never encountered such strength
Such empowerment
How threatening.

When I was a little girl
I always broke the rules.
 Jan 2016 Randy Bryte
Just Melz
Mystery, slow and steady
As I watch the stars take form
Powerless in this shell
But at least it's kept me warm
Concealing the outside world
From me, just a scared little girl
With no thoughts of bravery
Or curiosity to wonder about the storm
As lightning strikes
Through the scars in my eyes
And imagined tears take form

Tunneling through the hole in my brain
Trying to find a spot in which you still remain
Getting lost continuously along the way
Finding old memories,
Some dreams previously lost to me
Leaving my thoughts in disarray
If only I could find you, you'd say
'Take my hand, I'll guide you home
And never lead you astray'
But that destiny is clearly lost to me
And deep inside, I start to pray
I put you on my wall today
          As soon as I got home
              And I smilled at how you were crooked
                   And I tilted my head to really see you

      And that's when the water sloshed out of my ears and I was drowning

                      Your eyes became bubbles that helped me breathe
              When I sucked them in
  
       I became one with the pressure
The fluctuating force that I knew all to well
         Spilling from my ears like a cloud too heavy to hold its weight
    
             You drift off the wall and float with me, fragile, yet permanent and meaningful in my mind
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