Open,
Commanding eyes, open,
Mind,
Read the thoughts,
Scribbled onto the fabric,
Words that are set in stone,
Matter that is untouchable,
Ghostly syllables that have no means,
Interconnected by differential seam,
Like a sweater hugging the truth,
A fluffly mask than enslaves an essence,
Just to supply a relieving sigh,
Just to claim a means to get by,
Just to instill a feeling of a high.

Then you went leaving no signs
She is tangled in your unsaid lines
A dream takes ages to grow
When broken, just let it go

Watching The Signs With Sighs

No journalist, I –
No Instagramer, Twitterer,
No any out-in-worlder;
Only poet, intellect,
A heart
That tries not to be sentimental,
Hooked upon emotion –
So, and too misleading, to mis-reading,
Impulse and projection
Of our egotistic needs.
Yet,
One cannot
Resist it all:
The evil of it all,
Coming, going, fooling one
Into believing
That a calm will always be.

Last night a ventured coup in Turkey,
Night before, Bastille Day in Nice:
Terror, violence, crushed, the try
At overthrow!
I just don’t know –
I’m speechless, but confess
I must write something, being helpless too.  
To cry and yelp
Is not to help.  

I’m here, on paper writ.
That’s it.

Watching The Signs With Sighs 7.16.2016
Our Times, Our Culture II; Birth, Death & In Between II; War Book II;
Arlene Corwin

the shapes that keep appearing on my electronic page
struggle to become signs communicating meaning
     that reaches people at their core
so they can simply not resist responding to a message
the sense of which only evolves when they allow
to let themselves get lost in the uncertainty
of these strange writings on the virtual wall

I pray about you if you're going to be mine,
I wait on the answer from the divine.
I hope that someday we meet.
So I can see your face so sweet.
If only I could have the answer now.
Then I could love you, as much as my heart allows.

Ozzy or my uncle Ozzie
some say his name was misspelled and wrote down as Osiah I don't think it was an accident at all

Osiah means the expression of number 7
He was the Seventh Son
Of a 7th generation
Born with a veil of skin over his face
this is a caul, a veil...his glistening hood

He was born almost all Native American
He was able to play seven instruments without ever being taught
Violin, Fiddle, harmonica, *****, guitar, banjo & the mandolin.

There are a lot of mystical qualities associated with 7
The seven deadly sins
Seven days in a week
Seven colors of a rainbow
Seven notes in the diatonic scale
7 circles to form the symbol of the seed of life
The opposite sides of a dice always equal 7
The Seven Dwarfs
In Japan there are seven lucky gods
There are seven continents
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
We are able to identify seven objects immediately without needing to count them
Hindu wedding celebrate 7 walk around the fire 7 times
While the priest says his Mantra and then they take seven steps and say vows
together 7 times
The Big Dipper has seven stars
Seven dials in London is an intersection
Of 7 streets with a sundial in its Center
7 is the smallest number that gives you 1
there are Seven Wonders of the Ancient World

I am sorry that you were so misunderstood Osiah
I don't believe that you were lazy
you just saw everything in a different way and it all was a little too much for you
your heart was weak and you left so young
You were a kind and uncomplicated soul
I so wish I had known you better I was just a girl
You looked so much like my Father
so Native American ...our history

He spent much of his time alone with his instruments
Many might have seen his life is sad but I don't think it was he won a lot of fiddle and violin contests
though none of those instruments exist anymore or his trophies
gone with his caul
and the clippings of his first hair

A lot of things I don't understand about numbers I see certain ones all the time
7 is not my number but I remember to keep looking they're here for a reason
I guess I will just keep looking
watching
learning
hoping
praying
I have a call too.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

or at least thats what i told myself
last night
when i locked myself in the bathroom
and refused to come out.

they talk about warning signs
and who's more prone to suicide
than the people who aren't.

"people with depression are more likely to **** themselves."

there are so many warning signs
but nobody cares to see them.

I hear you whispering to me
            it's alright my child
     I know you want this to be over
                 I am right here
             I will always be right here
            don't give up you hear me?
   As long as you can still grasp a breath
                          you fight
      You breathe...so keep breathing.

          Your body...your soul
            may be fighting you
         It is older and has taken
     on many troubles and trauma
       but your spirit needs to stay
you have important work still to do here

        As they press on your throat
    Trying to check the last bit of air
      the Red tail Hawks Circle in the sky
                 we are here
               Do not be afraid

      You were born with white blood
        The ones who have dark blood
             are angry that it is
      still running through their veins
                are afraid of you
             Your light is so bright
           they fear getting burned

       Time may not be on your side
But you will know when the time is right
       you are the silvertip grizzly bear
   who smells from many miles away
who will rip flesh with your mighty    
            claws in seeming anger

                           His smell
seven times stronger than the Bloodhound
           your nose is a time traveler
      while they see someone's name
                            carved in
         a heart in the tree they will know
          this person loves someone else
            
       you know who made the carving
      what was on the soles of their feet
        what direction they walked in
   And to stay away if they are dangerous

        little Portia...jumping spider
        you can see in four dimensions
      Opening Our Eyes to history
as ancient Greek statues were painted
                        not white
         your evolutionary camouflage
     is useless against the death machine
          the black Emperor Scorpion
which to you glows in a bright blue green
      
you are also like the monarch butterfly
      
          waking from sleep cocooned
            living only a few months
      migration that spans Generations
born knowing exactly how to get to their  
           greatest grandfathers home
              who left six months ago
                not told by your Mother

You are the beautiful white bleeding heart
     that I planted outside your door
    you didn't know where it came from
  It will provide you ease from your pain    
           and calm  your nerves
      you must extract this from the root

         It all feels very important
             To speak the truth
             to get it all down
     It feels like it might be too late
                but it is not
   just remember to keep breathing
       As long as you have a breath
    as long as you can grasp a breath
                 you breathe
                 keep fighting
                     I am here
                 I am with you
           I will always be here.

Cherie Nolan© 2016

It is the spirit dragonfly, a nymph -
          the keeper of our dreams
     The breath of a moose in wintertime
Crystal waters that flow through a fast
                    moving stream
Clouds that cast shadows that slip through
            a purple sunset and disappear

                 It is the visiting Raven
               It is the fast running deer

              who dances in the rain
                   it is your tears
      which are the keepers of your pain

                Thunder and lightning
                         It is in your hands
               this life....it  is everywhere
            our soul finds a  
                   place to land.
Cherie Nolan © June 2016