Archive for ‘sudden ideas.’

December 29, 2013

On Honesty.

There is no difference.
Lies are tricky. Little ones, big ones, ones you just spit out to get someone off your back, or to avoid an in depth conversation.
Maybe you’re a hider. Maybe you like to hide things in fear of opposing opinion, so you say little lies to inquiring eyes. You mean nothing of it, you mean no hurt, you mean no sting, but its still there, it’s been found, seen, its been taken in by the wrong eyes. Not the inquiring, greedy ones, but the loving ones. The loving eyes who look at you as home. As refuge. The loving eyes who look at you with more love than they actually have to give, but they still give all they have to show you they do.. they do, they do, they do love you. 

Lies, neither catastrophic or petty, or easy to wipe away from loving eyes.  

February 20, 2013

Rabbit and Fox: A Love Story.

“Good job trapping me in this hole.”
Said Rabbit to Fox.
“But ye cannot trap my soul. Rip back my fur-lined skin, let my blood run thin. I cannot bound further, I accept, I will make thine belly thicker, but before my death, might I ask of thee this one request?”

Drooling from her fangs, shanking from hunger’s pangs, fox steps back, stunned by food’s brave attack.

Then haunched rabbit, murmming his soft plea…
“Make it quick, I beg of thee. I am old and I’ve survived many colds. I’ve fought your father, but alas, I have not the strength to fight his daughter. You see my tears are swelling, tis true, I’m scared of this deathly passing. My flesh is yours to feast, this heart? it shall no longer beat, but be ye gentle? Be ye humble? Enjoy me, I can hear thine stomach grumble. And After ye have licked thine lips and lapped my blood, take notice of how high my soul has sprung. The snow is deep, but my soul is deeper. The air is frigid, but it is not my soul’s keeper. Your fangs might sear, but my soul is far from near. It is far, far from here. This soul of mine will be hard to find, but truthfully I pray to thee, I hope ye are not blind.  I pray ye find rest from this snow’s wretched quest. I do not mind being thine, but pray, find that soul of mine. It knows warmth and peace I cannot preach. It knows the colors of unseen flowers, but most importantly,  it knows all of Heaven’s powers. My body shows of no knowledge, but that soul of mine, it knows all hope and love divine. I pray ye are not blind, find that soul of mine.”

With failed restraint, Fox begins to quake. Her gaze shifts. Breaks. Tears take over her hungry face. Her fur beneath her eyes are flooded by all of love’s suprising triumph. Her lips uncurl and her heart unfurls and what comes forth, changes the world…

“Rabbit, your soul is everything I seek. Might I find it without death’s peak? With your prayer, my hunger I can bear. It is my soul I’m needing to feed, and if thine words be true, it is all my belly needs. But I cannot move ye to death, instead keep thy breath. Might I find another way of finding thy soul’s escape?”

“I wish it differently, tis true, but my love runs deeper thru and thru. Feed thee me and blessed be, your soul’s salvation set free.”

With tears in both their eyes, now blinded by pure love’s disguise. No longer doth it matter who they are, for pure love is no longer far. With a gentle snap of rabbit’s neck and with humble scarifice served, both Rabbit and Fox are bound together by love’s strongest nerve. And because of Rabbit’s ultimate giving, Fox now feels his grace unheeding. She spilt his blood, she lay in the flood. Her wailing heard, Rabbit’s soul undisturbed. Her guilt rocks her to sleep, but his soul she will always keep.

September 14, 2012

and this is illness.

it lay there on it’s fine china, in all it’s glutton and calls me a whore and tells me to thank him when I die.

it stares at me waiting. and when i choke and can’t breath, it laughs it’s belly laugh.

and then night comes and God is gone and voices are left unheard.

because sin breaks the telephone cord.

in darkness it growls at me.
laps up my blood with all its lust.

and then bones show and pictures cant lie.
and im not doing this on purpose
but i cant seem to get my fingers around the handle right.

i read and read and some say its lack of blood flow to certain regions of the brain.
and then i pray and hope that maybe this is true.
with truth comes cures

that maybe this isnt something forever.

i paint my nails just to pick the polish off.
just to keep my hands doing something.

[ this is illness. ]

August 11, 2012

{ … }

“there is nothing greater than ones own. there is not one thing greater than the ones who love you. there is nothing greater than that of an emptied full heart.”
she said to me thru paper written letters. envelopes with ink stained smears.
i sit. stare. i didnt understand.
emptied full?
corners were bent in my mind over this. emptied full. i let silence actually soak in.
its raining outside. doesnt it always seem to rain when these corners form.
the pack of eight coyotes howl and wine. I know so because they lounge in my yard at midnight.

the owl hoots.
i smiled at the memory of husband’s laughs in the darkness of a man-filled blanket covered bed as I lean out the window and hoot back.
we have genuine rhythm that owl and i.

emptied full.
the candle flickers with gentle vigor. this toddler scratched old wooden table wobbles when I collapse in hands propped up by elbows.
midnight comes to angrily.
pulling annoying baby hairs back and slamming internet life drainers closed, I visualize the words “emptied full.”
and then His voice booms in with the thunder.
the true Thor.

emptied full. when the only pennies left are given to the tired man on the corner.
emptied full. when i have nothing left and still get out of bed to sooth scared boy.
emptied full. when words release and emotions hang in the balance of fear and relief.
emptied full. when gratefullness and guilt sink in together like ink and water at the smell of man. ones deeply loved don’t have this.
emptied full. when i realize how selfish this body and mind are and crumble at the humbleness of every. single. blessing.
emptied full. when heart is swollen at the thought that having everything is nothing to Him.

emptied full. when He takes my thoughts and repleces them with His.
emptied full. when He takes His Hands and pulls out of these cracked chest bones the embers of passion.
emptied full. when He looks deeper in my eyes and sees what I can’t.
emptied full. when he whispers, “you will be with me when I burn this world.”

 

emptied full. knowing this is not my Home.

 

 

July 20, 2012

home.

you smell like cedar.
pine.
rain.
sweat.

you taste like a thousand breaths I cant seem to take.

you’re familiar. warm.
I know you.

we lay here. you and I.
you on your side, holding your head up with your hand.
me, on my back, as close to you as I can be.
my head turned into you chest.

your leg laying between mine. my feet touching yours.
you push my hair behind my ear and expose my skin.
trace your finger the length of my clavicle.
your eyes are soft and deep.

your heartbeat resinates thru my veins.

quiet. easy.

“shh.” and you push the forming crease on my chin smooth with your thumb.
I bury my face in deeper to your chest.
“shh.” and you push the tear back from my eye. nose. lips.

I wrap my arm around your torso and pull myself into you.
my nose and lips under your chin. resting on you neck.
the smell of you.
you lay your head down and push your arm beneath my head.
your other arm holds me. swallows me.

we lay, facing each other’s soul.
knotted. your skin on mine.
if rooms can breath emotion… then this place is whole.

I will never need air, as long as I can beathe you.

May 25, 2012

The Flooding.

I make room and move my mind to the side.
letting my heart move and work and soak in.
I maneuver my words thru my teeth and try to comfort.
I let it all come in. all of it.
I let the ocean flood in.
I let it, for at that particular time, it needed me.
for what seemed like hours of caring and loving and being there..
is now all out with the tide.
somewhere lost on the other side of the waves.

and just like that.
gone.
the flooding swallows all I had to give and takes it with him.

Image

January 23, 2012

Midnight’s Sonnet.

And what of narwhals?
And if they could speak, what stories would they tell? And if these are real, then there must be unicorns. 

And of the night? As if it were but a piece of velvet fabric with holes poked thru.

And what of this skin I’m draped in? Who first wore this robe? Whose history am I wearing? And what of the Indian woman who fell in love with the man from France, who bore his son and began this lineage that is me? Who have I passed on to my son?

And if my great-grandmother’s great-grandmother were my age now, would we get along? Would I bare her deep doe eyes and would she my rebellion?
 
“My face is a mosaic of the ones before it…” the girl said. I think of this mosaic that is me. This mosaic of hard times, of pirates, of corsets, of prarie women, of men of the first war, of children who grew to see the future of automobiles and lightbulbs. I am a fiber thread together by their hopes and dreams.

And then I stare hopelessly at the stranger in the looking glass.

And if You’re coming back, why are You waiting? And what of free will? And if You’re waiting until Your last child finds You, when will You ever return? Isnt free will the one thing You left to us? The one thing You are unsure of? And if You argue that You know everything, then are we all predestined? If you claim Y0u know all, but leave free will to us, then why keep us in this limbo? Why wouldnt You just make it as it will be? And then I’m left to wonder… Am I really going to Heaven when I end?

And what is love and why are we bound to it’s rules? And is there really just one soulmate for each of us, or are we really capable of loving many others? As many as we need? Because we are, afterall, brothers. Brothers linked back to a leaf and an apple.

And what of Adam and that Secret Garden? I shake my fist at a booked claimed Holy and hot tears stain and blood bleeds from bit lips as I try my hardest to understand this Holy of thousands of white pages trimmed in gold full of black and red letters. And as much as I want and as hard as I try, I can’t make it’s sense.  And I try to find You there. And then theres Adam. He sat at a pond’s edge with You.  And this makes confusion and blood and hot even more. 

I want to take off all my clothes and lay my back to the sand and feel. I want to feel until tears seep from their gathering place…
I want to feel until I see narwhals in the velvet.

October 22, 2011

bedsheets of my soul.

I lay wondering.
Wondering what happened to the comfortable laughter.

I miss her.

Lover competes with these bedsheets in catching my tears.
He loves me so much.
He always tears up when I’m unfolding.
I curl in around the pillows and he curls in around me. just holding me. letting me drench these bedsheets.

 

These bedsheets of my soul. Drenched in the river of my heart.

 

I dont care if it was all fake or if it was all real or if you hated me or if you loved me. I dont care if everything was all I lie.

I want it back. Living a lie was universes better than this… this empty sister’s heart I have. Throw me back to the sun and let me burn if you must – at least I’ll be able to see your smile from there. watch your red orange rose peach colored treses in envy from there.

I dont care what the past 365 days have done to us. I dont care what the past holds in its clutches or what the future has in its flowering basket for us… I meant it when I said I wanted to watch movies with you like we used, when we’re 80, lying on the floor, eating raw cookie dough by the gallon… just like we used to. And I know it hurt you more deeply than ever when you werent standing next to me when I sealed a commitment with kiss, but I meant it with every fiber of my skin when I told you you were the only girl I wanted there. 

Time had other plans. and I am so deeply sorry.

I meant it when I said I wanted to raise our babies together. I meant it when I said I wanted to live on the same street as you. I even meant everything I ever told you that I didnt follow thru with.  I dont know where you are in your world or what meaning I hold to you, but know that everything that ever came from me was reckless abandon, heartfelt sincerity, love letters with intention of knitting my soul to yours everyday for the rest of my life. That the bond I had with you was not that of friends.

but that of my sister.

October 20, 2011

[bandersnatch]

 

Bandersnatch

I have ridiculous dreams of running on all fours.
Of chasing something thru a thick wood, but not ever seeing what is running for it’s life.
I feel the drool drain down my neck as the wind rips thru my hair.
I feel the current in my veins surge thru my rapid rampant heart.
I can taste it. I can smell it. I can feel it in my human mouth.
One of these nights, I will catch it. Whatever it is.

I walk up trees and eat the moths that flap around me.
I feel the evil crawl around on my skin. 
I laugh with a growl. I’m good at this…. Making you fear me. 
I can do anything here. I can eat you if I wanted to. 
Where this wood is, I am Bandersnatch.

In this part of my head, I hate getting lost.

 

 

 

September 22, 2011

Its Wednesday….

I’m a day late for my post.
For my Just Write post.
I’m typically a day late for everything.
Appointments.
House cleaning.
Jokes…

Its bad.
Its funny bad.

I sit in a heaping pile of baby toys.
The simple kind made for babes just learning to crawl.
He is beautful. My son.
I sit here in the middle of the living room floor becuase its more comfortable
than the 200 dollar desk I bought just for my laptop and all its uses.
The house is so quiet after babe goes to sleep.
So deeply quiet. Its a little unnerving to be honest.
I can’t even remember what it was like before my babe.
I’ve become so accustom to the hustle and bustle of baby tending that I almost
dislike the down time. The down time I can’t wait to seize when I’m hustling and bustling…

Life here in this corner house on Grant Ct is simple.
Easy.
Not to demanding.
Homemade and comfy.

A fact for today:
I want 7 seven children.
I saw a woman today with 7 children.
All raven haired beauties with their mother’s eyes.
And she was the epitome of “put together.”
With SEVEN little duckies all in a row.
I want to be her.