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 Feb 2015 Shelley Connor
Monika
It´s not lust
that brings me to you.
It´s not desire
or need.
It´s not your looks,
attitude,
eyes or smell.

Hands,
body,
mind or soul.


It´s love.
Simple and pure love.
Don´t you see that?
 Feb 2015 Shelley Connor
Poetic T
In the red  wood forests of old, a seed did
Descend, from a height it impacted upon soft,
Buried under fallen leaves.
Then a ancient looked upon the seed
"More you shall become"
"More shall your existence be"
And the seed sprouted
Upon soiled ground.
It grew upward proud,
But not of the tree was birthed.
"A dragon of red wood"
It grew, nurtured by the mother earth,
It spread it wings bark as light as air
"She was angelic"
"She was fiery"
She was the protector of all
The majestic red that stood before,
Knowledge past from leaf too branch
That held her bark feathers in place.
She breathed upon the air sparks of
Red,
Orange,
Crimson
Colours, but burnt upon teeth and snout,
The stream so near, properties of healing
The waters blessed upon she
And what was singed and burnt
Once again in gratitude grew back.
She plays with those that are in harmony
With this ageless place,
But those who wish to disrespect the land,
Taint the beauty that is ageless around.
Upon the ground they did desecrate
Those ancient ones
"She felt the pain"
"She felt each cut"
"She felt their cries for help"
With but a gesture wings met air
She saw those who desecrated
Ancient lives, ancient rings of time.
She screamed from up high,
As all looked above,
Bows drawn as Iron rained upon
This majestic red wood,
Hardened by ancient words
They plummeted towards the ground,
But a shot was lucky between
Bark feathers stuck,
In pain she enveloped those below
Her flame did not touch nature
all was untouched.
But those who would taint sacred ground
Were but funeral mounds of ash.
"She paid a price"
Her flame ignited upon her crimson sap
As she tumbled to the ground
Her thoughts of
Why,
Moments,
Fear
Ran through her as she saw the redwood
For one last time,
What was the guardian, was no more,
Engulfed, She was embers
They did glow for many a week,
All the animals huddled around
Warmth from her crimson glow,
"A tear did fall"
"Embers no more"  
From warmth to cold,
Turning white like silk, they lifted upon
The breeze. And in its place
like a seed, redwood shell,
Brittle in beauty, then movement
Then motion, as it feel softly upon its side,
Cracks appeared as a snout exited
That place into this world,
"Tiny spark"
"Tiny life"
Rebirth from self sacrifice.
Wings open, startled they ran,
Friends it is I,
"Redwood"
The one so graced to watch you
From up high,
I have been given life from a life given,
They touched, scent smelled
Smiles around all,
I am as you flesh, no longer wood,
As a little display of excitement
Shots into colours, glittering in displays
Before all faces, I am your
Friend,
Companion,
Guardian
From all that would harm you,
Or disrespect the elders ever growing
Heavenly in this ageless place.
Till this day she sits upon extended branches
Looking unto the heavens, walking among
Friends in this wood of red, where ancients slumber
And beauty Is in every direction,
The dragon of redwood guardian of this ageless place.
My husband sits for days on end,
Staring through his empty friend,
My tearful words fall alone,
His mind resides in combat zone,

A man replaced by shell so cold,
Numbed by scars of war untold,
Violent dreams lived each night,
Lashing out, at all in sight,

He returns to war inside his head,
Trauma stained by all bloodshed,
A trigger pulled, his mind released,
Begging for, all thoughts to cease,

His scars remain, but can't be seen,
Buried deep inside his dreams,
Years of therapy, will help him free,
From the damaging effects..
.. of Post Traumatic Stress

I pray for the day, he's finally home,
So the trauma of war, can leave us alone.
 Feb 2015 Shelley Connor
Tatiana
Wake up and smell the dead roses,
walk with me through the burned fields,
dance with me in pouring rain,
and dodge the falling debris.
But be careful,
for you will realize
that you have been hit by falling debris,
the pouring rain is keeping you on the ground,
you're laying in the empty, burned fields,
with blackened rose petals covering your trembling body.
And when I say you
I mean myself,
for I feel that I am two,
I am me and I am you,
and we lay together on scorched earth
yet we lay apart and drowning in the rain.
Is someone retching in the stairway?
Or *******, I can't tell.
It's too early for the drunkards
who stumble in, yelling in whispers.
Fragmented Portuguese drifts in from next door,
too loud, even under the shower head.
They can probably hear my thoughts.

In the beginning we sat on the steps after dates.
Walked down to town
for good street food.
I would be drowning, going,
flying coming back,
as you stopped to kiss me in every bus-stop shelter,
drunk on the night, lateness
lack of sleep, and the act of trying too hard to love.
Was your soul once the colour of mine
Till you painted it over,
god knows how many times?
Or was that you at all?
Did I invent you? Did you invent me?
I close my eyes and world drops dead
I think I made you up inside my head
I'm sorry. It's not fair.
In the end you didn't understand
how free I felt.
I tried to long and too hard, slow fade,
for you, a bomb.
Weight and weightlessness tangled inside,
guilt, freedom. Guilt.
I cut your memory out of my thighs.
I didn't want to remember you between them.
I can't sleep, guilt is crushing.
You hold my sins before me like broken plates,
and when I cried
you said I was playing martyr, burning in lions jaws.
No, dear.
Martyrs are sinless.
I play at nothing.
Forgive me.
Old thoughts. Found an old journal entry and took some of the better stuff to make a poem. Long story short, I broke up with him, and he was not happy about it. *Italics from Sylvia Plath's "Mad Girl's Love Song"
 Feb 2015 Shelley Connor
Courtney
first a date, then a kiss
love songs are made of this
you’ll say I’m beautiful
I’ll love your smile

you’ll promise crazy things
I’ll dream of diamond rings
we can be innocent
just for a while

— The End —