LOOK…SEE

I don’t have to look to see, a perfect picture memory. Each reel turns up bright any time I close my eyes, runs as black and white shadows exposing my favorite plays, endearing expressions, rogue games of intellectual fun, silliness so sweet, I eat it up, starving for more treats, and centered deep as if tickled in a yet to be discovered part, I giggle with innocent elation for the shining star of my dreams, a musical angel who comforts me, teaching transcending pain to bloom a new beginning.

Oh, to share your air…to physically feel the energy flow from your fingers, from you lips, to observe your personality dance again…oh me, oh my, what a silly romantic am I!!!

I know better, no way, but I embrace the dream at midnight as I fall asleep;)

Ode to a Broom

You always stand up tall, even while just leaning against the wall, ready when the moment calls to do nothing but help when the shit hits the wall, and never wasting precious energy distracted by fun or shiny things. To you, diligence working is satisfying.

Away with spiders and webs!

Brush up dander and dust.

Be GONE bugs, food, death!

Your destruction is the purpose.

No more crying over mucky shadows stuck tile after tile. The broom preps the surface smooth until I steam the ugly beautiful. I don’t know what I’d do without you…❤️

Magical Ride

The day sets orange and pink, clouds spread into fairy wings. Alone I observe, writing on glass and stone.

I’ve held back the urge, held it in, knowing full well, it’s growing BIGGER trapped silent inside. My muscles twitch with want, the burden of control taunts a defiant part of my soul to break the chains keeping me stuck still.

The time has come, the urge a balloon that’s ready to POP out of my mouth, and I open wide, “Magic carpet, take me for a ride.”

As if a wizard from a far off land hears my heart’s yelp for help, there, suddenly, out of thin air, a woven carpet did appear!

With an irredecent wave, cyan threads shimmer gold glitters about a puffy cushion that’s calling for a friend.

A corner tassel bundle shakes a toss to say, Come here…

But, I never had to move. I floated right out of my seat across the way to a gentle splat in the middle of the mat.

“Oh, my golly gee!” I giggle, “What a treat! I wonder who I’ll meet?”

No fly-zone necessary for my magic carpet ride, jumping through time and space, I landed right by your side!

After the rush of being alone settles in your room, while you’re still shining bright from your night, feel the shades of my shadow begin come alive.

Did you feel my shadow shamelessly sitting on your lap like a cat.

This is where I will sleep tonight, with your hands on my mind…

(I find moments in my day where I’m lost in an image like when your fingers stroke all the right notes, the key-master unlocking the passion in my heart that I forgot.)

Illusions

Oh, what a dump: two dogs puking, cat gets out, replacing water softener and water heater which flooded the laundry room floor, van door dumps a pile of rust on the ground, fridge doesn’t come round til next week, barely have enough healthy food to eat…after this morning, I wonder, How much more?

My brain’s swollen so big, my skull is sore.

Eventually, I’ll calm the storm, but for now, I have a hurricane going on.

Illusions

I have no illusions. I can’t change my fate. I make my bed as best I can and…wait.

What if my ability to love were how I was judged? I’d be a super-star!

Ha! Just call my dreams marred. I’m too scared, too scarred, loving me is too hard. Despite PTSD producing acid in my veins, I know I’m not insane…I guess that’s something.

I don’t know how NOT to use this space to “trauma dump” because no one knows or cares if I’m here.

And I mean that as a good thing, everyone has their secrets, you’re mine, and I shit you not, that keeps me going, searching for the light:)

Silly that a bad day can seem so dark and daunting even when the sky is blue and birds sing a lovely little tune.

(Memorized the first listen, no joke, undiscovered country’s words and rhythm, beat like my heart in my head, and times like this, I use it…

“Magic happens when it’s practiced.” I’m a witch, but I have no spells to fix anything.

Just wish I could travel in a wizard’s sleeve…Oh, Love, wish I were a wizard’s dream.)

Lucky Charms

Eating my Lucky Charms (containing marshmallow unicorns the size of my hand), watching the big-bad news with “Fareed’s Take” as my spoon splashes milk from my full bowl out, and my hands smacked a fingertip-lock up my cheeks, pinkies vertical bars pressing my pout back in, jaw clenched because I can’t do what I want.

(It’s as if I have less control as an aged adult in my own home than I had as a newly teaching twenty-three year old in Yuma barely able to pay rent in a nice part of the border town.)

Yet, I get to take a nap like now when all are busy, my chores are temporarily done, and I get to take time for stargazing in my reverie of a moment between you and me filled with glorious possibilities for how I’d end the scene, a phantasy to drive reality…

You are the ultimate lucky charm!

Oh love, how I dream you could come to me…I guess I can say that I’m phenomenal at this kind of hobby;)

proclivity

My proclivity

eats my sanity,

to the point

I want to scream.

I feel a little devil within.

He tells me things!

It’s true! Naughty ones

between me and you,

lips rambling truth

plant together lovers

engaged in passion:

tickles, licks, nibbles

necks, chests, legs

down, up, back

slide, slippery wet

bouncing high

a fuck-fabulous

bed-banging ride

again and again

in and out, walls hot

oh, Oh, OH! I mount,

hard-cocked relief

pounding, moaning

I become a beast

sex-starved too long

I want more!

I want to do wrong!

Please, drill my core!

Fantasies whispered

only to me, we try

everything you need,

I fulfill YOUR dreams…

Authentic SELF Search

I’ve been trying to emulate your spirit and use creativity to engender peace in my mind. In my search for a connection to my Authentic SELF, it’s easy to get lost, overwhelmed by some cerebral curse. A break of laughter nips the stress off, bringing needed relief, the perfect pause of some thoroughly pleasurable play, especially at the end of an arduous day. So, watching you work making magic, sends me to dream, a smile on my face, thinking of a happy place:)

Oddest Flowers

Even the oddest

flowers can flourish.

No sowing.

At first, just a seed

blowing when it falls

into a driveway crack,

and dormant instinct

roots foundation through

the black tar and gravel

until the magic of a spring

environment rains

light-food and nutrient-water

to seep deep then

an unlikely flower pushes

with burgeoning strength

through paved black-top.

Resiliency from infancy.

That’s me.

a will, a way

I WILL myself…some day…to travel like I used to, relying on no one but myself! Ok, well, at least to places like Chicago, a place I know so well.

(Three months of rehabilitation just off Lake Shore Drive at fourteen years old, The Museum of Science and Industry’s been a staple since a kid, and every five months I have an appointment that’s right by School of the Art Institute of Chicago (where my daughter goes)…but…DAMN IT! I’ve traveled to Chicago alone my whole adult life!

How many times did I drive all by myself from the Arizona desert to the Midwest cornfields, from a Colorado Valley to an Arizona Mountain, from a San Diego beach to family in Texas?

How far did I go? My van might know.

I need freedom from silent expectations, bites of resentment, and voiceless screams. I want to escape being ignored as an acceptable way of living.

Hours pass by so slow as I wait for…my chance. The next time a friend says let’s talk, I won’t get scared and avoid the call!

A dragonfly’s wings fan subtle heat on my shoulder, and as if through a microphone-hand my tiny friend yells:

“ANSWER! You silly wench! No more bricks in the wall! You’re no longer a teenager! You’re an ADULT.”

Some day I’ll get away…for now, I guess, I’ll just keep dreaming, and vicariously I’ll trigger myself happy watching from my home.

Acceptance

As an experience turns into a memory, the more heightened the emotional charge, the more vivid the movie of the moment so that our brains construct natural pathways of dealing with our world based upon our living perception of the meaning from our past experiences.

There should be a natural acceptance that it will never happen that way again.

I struggle with that, however, I’m just self-aware enough to see when I distort the picture with creative play warping the memory, then embracing it wholeheartedly, only to break my own heart.

I run. I hide. I bounce back wise.

One thing that I can’t abide is now currently what I hide, only today an epiphany realized…

I’m so cold inside despite being loved, and I just keep wondering why?

Will I ever again feel something resembling passion? Regularly mentally exhausted. Unfortunately not with him.

It hurt at first.

“FUCK ME!” Aloud, I actually burst.

I don’t know much about accepting change. But, a change happened. More than a caterpillar to a butterfly…

No, it’s more like a Frankenstein in my head that I created from past stories of broken hearts.

Do I kill it? Or do I love it?

It’s a fairy tale of lovely, in which ugly turns beautiful. I’ll take my dreams over reality. I want to be sweet.

I can make magic! Yes! Passion is within. I need no one thing for it to be…I want Passion to make me free. Now, that I can accept, close my eyes, visualize, a passionate soul to chase in the playground of my mind.

Fake it til you make it.

Just found this. So tickled!!!