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Audrey Bautz Mar 2013
Bound for Home
Dawn rested still, upon the horizon as the clouds circled the sun like hungry hawks.
The sky contemplated its’ disguise between a dismal gray and a crisp-blue.
My head ached as I stirred from my winter-induced coma
- and found myself gazing up at an inviting sunrise.
Bright, beautiful colors swam in the sea of sky,
tireless pinks and reds masked in specks of gold
- enveloped the thick purple clouds.
With the immaculate mix of hues
it would have appeared that God Himself
- was trying to entice me to go on living.
For, in the midst of life, we are in death,
Heaven must be of moments like this
- when the balance of life is harmonious.
Perhaps I was dead, I was beyond pain,
- and the sky was the clearest I had ever seen.
I attempted to move but found myself unable to,
- my legs pinned down, seemingly more like hell
as the beautiful open sky before me
clung to the riches of the earth with my poor soul
- confined to the fleshy-tombs of sin.
My eyes fell upon a creature of familiar air,
- as it twitched between the rise and fall of a pulsating-chest.
Upon further investigation,
I was shocked to discover the body to be that of a dog
- no not a dog . . . a wolf . . .
- the wolf from the previous night.
She stirred with a sigh and lifted her massive head.
My breath went coarse and my heart began to pound
- as though it were fighting to presume its’ natural rhythm.
She turned her attention to me as I gasped,
- her deep blue expression seemed tamed, almost human-like.
Though for some unknown reason, I was not frightened,
- only, surprised and relieved at how tender she was.
She stumbled in her morning-daze to her feet and stepped back.
I studied her manner, still skeptic, but overall excepting of my new friend.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A few hours after staggering to my feet,
I was working the feeling back into my right foot.
It never regained itself as did the rest of me,
- so I stooped over a blazing fire vigorously rubbing it.
The sun shone bright through the tree tops
- and I relished every moment she spared.
Back in my limbo, I pressed on,
- no food, and limited supplies.
My wolf-friend jumped through the snow
- racing me along the path,
- she only stopped to look back when she did not hear me.
I adored how it was that she could have easily disguised herself in the snow,
- her beautiful white fur carrying only a slight tint in the tail and behind her ears.
I halted in my steps to process my thoughts,
-but the grip of winter tightening about my brain, made it impossible,
All that could be accessed was the presence of a single quote.
(Funny how moments can be broken by the strangest occurrences.)
I gazed ahead at the majestic grace of the wolf, only to say:
“The joy in looking and comprehending
- is nature’s most beautiful gift.”
“That was poet John Dryden . . . " I continued.
Life has a reason to its' madness as did I to my thoughts,
That quote had its' reason for presenting itself at that moment.
And as though needing some approval I began to think aloud:
“The greatest gift given to humankind is the blessed view around us.
The process of slowing down
so one might gaze upon the glories of mother earth.”
“I am still here, so I must consider the reasoning behind this.”
The wolf tilted her head then jumped back into a running position
- left me far behind.
I suppose I am not terribly angry at this most unfortunate dilemma.
Why who knows, it could bring forth a plethora of final moments to reflect upon.
Anyhow, if winter does not finish me,
- then most certainly hunger and dehydration will, I thought to myself.
My friend, at this point, was not in eyesight and the first snowfall started.
And with any signs of our existence soon disappearing beneath the fresh layer of snow,
I took it upon myself to rest my aching feet.
I glanced up and called, my voice shaking through the empty walls of land.
"We shall rest here."
The trumpeting gallop of paws brought her back into my sight.
She circled around my stooping body and stretched herself out.
“You are very kind to aide me in my final days.
You are not like the others.
I haven’t had the pleasure in having a true friend in years.
So . . . since you are a friend,
I can’t very well be calling you, “Wolf . . . ”
Everyone needs a name if they wish to be claimed
. . . You remind me of an old beauty.
- Something not seen since long ago.
Hmm . . . Mika!
- . . . Yes, with a foreign beauty such as yours’ . . .
Mika fits very well indeed.”
She glanced up at me with a light dispersing from her eyes,
- as though satisfied with my decision; a blessing upon her name.
After a while my eyelids fell victim to a weight and slowly they closed.
“Perhaps . . . ” I mumbled.
“ . . . a nap for us aged-souls.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The fresh frost seeped into my pants as I forcibly opened my eyes.
The hours chasing away the light as twilight descended.
My head ached and stomach cried out from hunger-pains.
I found Mika sound asleep upon my legs.
She had an atrocious snore that could wake any nearby town.
“Mika!” I whispered. “Wake up Mika.”
Her eyelids moved,
- then slowly blossomed two beautiful blue eyes.
I pulled out from under her and grabbed any nearby sticks and fallen branches.
Of all my supplies the matchbox was the most used.
I pulled out one of the few remaining matches and struck it.
Within moments the fire spread throughout the wood and light flooded us and the trees.
Mika stood to her feet and yawned. She then ****** her head and ran into the darkness.
“Mika!” I cried.
She had not returned for some minutes when I heard the rustling of something from within the thick black surrounding myself and the fire.
“Mika?” I cried out again.
A dark figure appeared dragging with it some unknown object.
As it came closer I noticed the gentle white of Mika’s fur.
She had with her a branch of some sort. I arose to look closer.
It was a holly branch, on which grew clusters of bright red berries.
She struggled with bringing it toward the fire
- but the branch was no match for her strength as she dropped it at my feet.
I sat back down by the light and stared at the branch.
She let out one enormous bark,
demanding in tone, as though giving me an order.
“What, am I to do with this?” I asked puzzled.
Again she barked that demanding bark and began to incessantly whine.
“Mika, if this is what I’m thinking your actions to be true . . .”
I continued. “I am not eating that!”
"I appreciate your enthusiasm
- no matter how inconvenient and wearisome it maybe.
However, I must put before, anything else that of which I came here to do."
She whimpered beneath her pants
- stepping in closer as if to gesture an insistence.
The fire pulsated against her thick coat as she nudged the branch toward me.
I gazed at her unmoved continuing:
“You’ve delayed me a day already!
You were a witness to last night.
You watched me lie by the fire,
you saw the emptiness in my eyes, the lack of life."
She did not understand I could see
as she remained just as stubborn as I in her position before me.
My weariness grew and after some moments of exchanges I stated:
"I will not entertain your desire to continue on!”
“Do you understand . . . I refuse to.
I am ready to die . . . I miss my family.”
She walked over to me and rested her head delicately upon my lap.
“I know what you must be thinking.” I went on.
“You’re thinking, no problem is worth dying over
and perhaps you’re right,
but I no longer wish to waste my life living in this hell.”
She lifted her head to gaze up at me.
“I’ve lost everyone . . . I dug the graves for each one with my own two hands.
I live with that knowledge,
and this painful beating continues to pump the blood through my veins."
She retained her composure of wistful regards in the deep pool of her blue sight.
"I no longer wish to live,
- when my family remains six-feet deep in the rich soil they helped to plow!
Without family what is there to life? Whom do I laugh with, cry with?”
“Family is life . . .
- without them there is no life.
It has been this way since the dawning of all humanity."
I stopped upon the realization that my conversation was one-sided
simply finishing by stating:
“My dear little Mika, you are a wolf
and wolves are known for their obedience to their pack.
I am simply longing to return to mine."
The fire popped and cracked in its’ brilliant motion
and I remained quiet until my consciousness surrendered to the night.
Chapter 2 of my poetry novel. Enjoy. Any comments would be appreciated.
s1mpl3po3t Mar 2021
If Mika is just like her mother
The world is a better place,
If Mika looks like her mother
Then surely, she has a beautiful face;
And if Mika learns from her mother
Perhaps she'll live in a state of grace.
Kendal Anne Jul 2013
In Truth;
Should it matter what we really are? Or should we let our true colors shine?
Being held alive, but only in a straightjacket, learning you are bisexual?
Getting the doctors' notice that you are bipolar, or just being merely different?
Should we be ashamed, from the words that pass from behind each of our lips?
Should we simply hear the music, in which is played by the melody that you create by your own hands?
Should we repress out the truest of our colors so the rest of society cannot see the difference?

Dear Mika;
Say Goodbye; to the world you thought you lived in, to the world I thought I lived in
Where society was all strange, with no definite curve, without any hesitation from the ignorance
Now, the bitter and sour taste behind swollen tongues in disgust of what they only think they see
Spitting acid upon those they are lead to believe are sinners, disgraceful, and unrighteous
As they hold out a helping hand, disciplining to correct atrocious  mistakes they believe you made
But you are only human, and they peeled through the defenses of pride and confidence you had built up

Take a bow;
And say Farewell, to a society filled with leniency, with the hatred branded hearts breathing fire
In any other world youcould be the difference. To change the rankings of what is right, and what is wrong
But here, you have had to give up your defenses and to let go of the emotions that create this difference
Although society believes that there are two choices to be made, and you have chosen the incorrect side
All you can do is hold your head up higher than the rest, and have skin made of diamonds and steel
Because; it is as if the World wishes to believe that the molecules in your DNA strands are not the same, and gravity doesn't affect you any longer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xo0kbHITxXo
Mika~ Any Other World

I got inspiration from listening to Any Other World by Mika. I realised while looking through comments, that many people around us judge the man by his orientation, and not by his music at all. Is this the world we really believe we live in?
judy smith Jan 2016
Mikaela Lagdameo-Martinez has forged her way in and around the beauty industry. Starting out as a model at 15, she’s now started working as an entrepreneur and VIP sales manager for Stores Specialists Incorporated, one of the top names when it comes to bringing international beauty brands to our local counters.

With such a background and how she continues to grow her opportunities (she’s now started a scented candle business called Mink), you would think she’d have a million things in her everyday makeup stash, but the reality is quite the contrary. She still keeps it easy with tried and tested products that do their job efficiently. How else would she be able to keep up with all her work on top of being a mother and wife?

On a Thursday morning, Mika was kind enough to squeeze us into her busy schedule to share her favorite makeup and skincare products and how she doesn’t believe in going over-the-top when it comes to beauty.

Describe your approach to beauty

I’ve always been drawn to effortlessness. For me, beauty is in simplicity and comes in the most natural form.

What’s the best beauty advice you’ve ever received from your mother?

Always put lotion on! Ever since I was a kid, I knew that after every bath came lotion application. I was never allowed to get dressed without [applying lotion first.] I can say I was officially brainwashed until this day!

If you had to prioritize skincare or makeup, which would it be?

Skincare, definitely. When you take good care of your skin, makeup is secondary. Plus, I literally feel the weight on my skin when I have makeup on. It’s not the best feeling.

What is one beauty item you would always repurchase?

Moisturizer!

What is the first beauty or makeup item you even bought for yourself?

I think it was makeup remover when I started modeling.

Name five grooming items you would recommend to any man.

After-shave, hair gel, moisturizer with SPF, a good bottle of perfume, and hand cream.

What are five makeup items you never leave the house without?

Moisturizer, bronzer or blush, brow mascara, lip balm, and my favorite **** lipstick.

What is one makeup trend do you always do I always follow?

Neat brows.

What is one misconception about the beauty industry people should know about?

One brand fits all—it isn’t necessarily true. Most of the time you really have to take into consideration your skin type, lifestyle, skin sensitivity, etc. You really have to try them out and see what works best on you.

Who are your beauty icons? Why?

Cheryl Cole aka Cheryl Fernandez Versini. I never get tired of staring at her. She’s one face that never bores me.

One a regular day, which tube of lipstick do you reach for?

Make Up Forever in Mat 2.

On a night out, which shade of lipstick goes with any ensemble and occasion?

MAC Ruby Woo.

What are your top three favorite perfumes?

Jo Malone Nectarine Blossom & Honey, Hermes Pamplemousse Rose, L’eau Par Kenzo

Smoky eye or dark lip? Why?

Dark lip. Not a fan of heavy eyes.

Can you tell us about your nightly skincare routine?

Wash face with my gel cleanser. Moisturize and done!

What are the five best skincare products you’ve tried?

Every time I’m pregnant I run to my ever reliable Clarins Tonic Oil for my tummy and *******. It’s the best and most effective product for firming and avoiding stretch marks! Next would be Murad’s ****** cleansers. I alternate between the foaming wash and gel cleansers because they’re the best. Third would be Benefit’s Boo Boo Zap for treating zits! Fourth, Maui Babe’s browning lotion. Fifth, Kérastase Powder Bluff dry shampoo!

What is one thing that you think is lacking in the beauty industry?

Personally, I think everything we need is already available. What else do we need?!

Who is in your beauty black book (hair, makeup, skin, body)?

For my hair, I go to Alex Carbonell. He knows how to manage my wavy hair with the right layers, length, and color.

For makeup, my favorites are Gela Laurel-Stehmeier, Juan Sarte, Steven Doloso, and Angie Cruz. They know exactly what to do with my face and how much I dislike foundation. (Laughs)

For my body, I go to Marie France. I started going to them ever since I gave birth to my daughter almost 12 years ago. I actually enjoy their treatments because they work so well and I don’t even have to break a sweat.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/****-formal-dresses
Kimberly C Brown Apr 2011
I had a thought
a burst of inspiration
it whorled about my head
singed the skin of my ears
burned away the fringes of hair
---let loose about me face---
like ash flicked from the tip of a cigarette.

This thought multiplied
as many do, but even more this grew
taking up empty space, filling the heavens in my eyes
consuming me with a fire unfelt before, unknown to be felt--before.

Like pure energy it fumbled
crackling about the dry air, creating music's pure form.
Twisting, contorting--grotesquely beautiful--its tantalized me
ripping me with ethereal bare hands--until, my soul lay beating out
a glow in response to this epiphany, in a hand that was not a traditional hand.

This body moved
possessed of an inner passion
as these eyes watched detached as
my essence, received the violent creation in motion.
I feared it would burst and spill, letting go past memories
and that thing that will not come again, that nutrient that comes only once.

This body shook
the limbs quivered and tightened
in anticipation of a full soul ready to be received.
And when that hand, which was yet not a hand inserted
pressed, squashed, stuffed me back into myself my body felt light
despite--this immense entity housed within my flesh of skin, blood and bone.

When all had become quiet outside
I heard the music still, the monstrous song
that enveloped my ears fully, captured my eyes inwardly
until I fell backwards in a rapture locked in a battle I wished to lose.

This music slowly died
and with it my tremors stilled
until all that was left behind was but
the tiny ****** of a thousand angelic bells
hanging from the Bell-Trees of paradise's seventh node.
Mao
wrote a
Little Red Book

an
at the ready

inexhaustible
arsenal

of
quotations

instant ammo

for bandoleros
of correctness

flinging barbs

more deadly
then a cocked
AK

virulent
vanguards

of screaming
proletarian
heroes

whippin em out

to shout down

the running dogs
of capitalism

sprouting
reactionary
bourgeois
schemes

a
sure
quive­r

of razor
sharp

ideological
stilettos

appropriate
weapons

of
respo­nse

for the
heated
struggle

against
incorrect
ideas

instant
revelations­

of carefully
selected
corrections

uncovered

by fevered
thumbs

*******
dog eared
pages

the
indexed
platitudes

uphold
the sacred

holy
dogmas

of convicted
minds

firmly
convinced

in the
comfortable
certitude

of their
derangement

In college
we carried

our
Red Books

in frayed
pockets
of dingy
flannel shirts

but
Lennon
unlike
Warhol
didn't
like
Mao

so we
dropped
Lenin
and
listened
to
Dylan
tracks

hysterically
laugh­ing
tickled
to death

with
Marx Brothers
Horse Feathers

Down
on
funky
Broadway

we
traded
our
Dashikis

for
coo­l

Che
emblazoned
tees

a weekly
special

at the
Silk City
boutique

whom
the
capitalists

cleverly
omitted

breast
poc­kets.

leading us
to displace
our Red Books

forcing us
to adopt

the
revolutionary
logos

of store front
entrepreneurs

Teabagger's
have

a little
red, white and
blue book.

They call it
the Constitution.

Its more of a
totem

a convenient
fetish

the Koch
Brothers
believe

empowers
them

to
pursue

the liberty
of

an unbridled
id

and the
freedom

of banksters
and oil companies

to swallow
anything

that they

can sink

their

insatiable
fangs

into

laissez faire
tolerance

for their
gluttony

is codified

by the grand
celestial
ledgers

of a greedy
God

down with
capitalism

Qadhafi,
has a
Green Book

he holds
it like
hand
mirror

peering into
his vanities

infatuated
with the
beauty
of terror

the
perfect
reflection

of his heinous
malevolence

the fiat
of his
ad hocracy

the
repressive
rules
of totalitarianism

are all
spelled out

the gory
details of

corporal rule
and capital
punishment

suggestively
enforced with

the stern
mutterings

of dictatorial
diatribes

the certain
cruelty

of whip
and stick


Morning Joe
has a book

the incessant
suggestions

of righteous
Reaganisms

a self serving
rhetoric

a stirring
oratory

of narcissistic
prattle

the banal hum

of feigned
wisdom

egoistic
affectations

cuddled and
encouraged

by star stricken
Mika

the critical
thesis

its first rule

thou shall not speak
ill of any other
republicon

the infallibility
of potentates

is always
self evident



Oakland
2/27/11
jbm
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
I really thoroughly enjoyed
our time, our together,
your being around,
your helping me out
I really thoroughly did
and do, still
I need to run and go on
an adventure which should be
my own, without your time,
your being there,
your helping me out
I'll be leaving my past,
your yours, while
justifying my moves to
leave this love and all
I'm terrified though
tears trickle down
my face into your pretty hair
They dry and leave
leaving a trace. I hold you
tighter yet feel the relief
of leaving, accepting
this love and all
has to end, in the end
I'll be back for one week
only so we can really thoroughly
cloud and end and
the tears, the pretty hair
hit me at once. They dry and
leave, leaving no trace.
Skin and bones
You reach for my hand
But you can't stop shaking
Your ribs are showing now
And I'll kiss them gently
To flood your brain with those feelings
The chemicals that make you forget
About the hair you watched circle the drain
And the tears in your eyes when you looked in the mirror
To fill your heart with a lust for living again
Stay alive until our next kiss, darling
And the next.. and the next..
12 lines, 224 days left.

— The End —