Demons

The truth is moonlight sprinkling a vast forest floor, not right or righteous, always on guard, like demons at night, relishing the dark dreamscape, more real in its skew than a day’s reality feels. Whilst I sleep, I reach and reach to pet the demons, train them to behave, teach my shadows to dance with my demons in a promenade.

(I take him to bed with me, it’s true, I start my dream in a visual…beautiful. I still choose to sleep with my fantasy because my dream makes me happy. Some day maybe, just maybe I’ll get a piece of a real cake…OH, how I’d devour something sweet, lol;)

O.K.

Patterns

Rigid patterns

Frigid heart

(Shuts out sparks,

Nothing stays)

Rainbow bright

–Out damn night–

Dreams fill days

More, I crave

Mourning up

I splat down

Long fingers

Linger latent

Extend strength

Aide my angst

Defend my fate

A wise prophet

A proffering

I inhale deep

In you seep…

You saving me

(A soul so cold

died long ago,

Back to life

Every night)

Legacy

I see G Love in Kalamazoo, MI in August. (Got to meet him a 4th of July like 10 years ago, so sweet, have a blurry picture, lol). Wish you were there.

between you and me

in between

you & me

space expanding

reaching, I yell

yet I can’t allow

any sound out

beet red

open-mouthed

notions like oceans

of my love

so hard, so coveted

so worth the world

I sob streams

to fall, a trail of tears

down my shirt

as I think

I cannot stand

not indulging

in someone

who makes me happy

I need it every day

I lie in bed

savoring your voice

imagining your body

I’m not ashamed

I’m hyper-intrigued

I don’t know you

You don’t know me

Why can’t we meet

I hold you in

my favorite

addiction

my eyes full

you above

entering between

centering faces

trusting the spaces

between you and me

as a dream

to our next scene

(until the next time we meet, I dream you each night as I fall asleep, in this life, my love won’t fade:)

Redwood Tree

Present

There’s a line that repeats in my head every time I get super frustrated at my life:

“the medicine of speaking and listening”

Remember back to when smoking pot was new and exciting. A person would puff ‘n’ give while talking, smoke pouring out of their mouth because they’re laughing…I can’t even speak while passing a peace pipe, NO ONE is listening, let alone hearing anything from my lips. A wife is said to become annoying, but NO ONE realizes I’m gone. It’s sad, but not for me.

I have that line.

“the medicine of speaking and listening”

I thought it was me. I’m just not worth listening to, I have no job, I have nothing important to say, so why should anyone listen to me? Fuck that. Sorry to be crass. I’m done being the blame for his wrongs. I’m done feeling like an ass.

I’m yearning for growth through connection, conversation like I used to feel when I got out of my head.

I wish I could give you a present for all the ways you help me in a day. Fun images when snide comments are thrown my way. Lovely lines that encourage my strength, advice in a way to not lose my shit when repeatedly I’m made to feel like a dick. It didn’t matter how often he tried to ruin my day, he couldn’t. Instead of crying and hiding, I climbed a hill and took a cool picture like I used to do when I was by myself. Progress I feel.

Nature giving you a hug πŸ«‚

a moon’s tale

The full moon, milky white, sends shadows raining through the forest to shade the trees, who wave with the slight summer breeze. Allthewhile, Nature’s night-lights zip and zoom, flashing code, hoping to bring a loved one home.

Drips from eyes, drips from skin, I lie at the base of a dead tree, once a towering oak like me, recently toppled by a mighty storm. Fetal and ready to give in, a miracle happens:

From a Heaven in the cosmos, blessed by the moon’s magnetic magic, a star falls. The midnight moon blinks darkness with the clouds, but the star burns a tail of fire, flashing brightest just before landing like a rock rolling.

A moon dust cloud dissipates to reveal a glowing golden sphere, darkness and light ccombine, pushing against each other with such force…the golden globe cracks open with a thundering drum roll, vibrating my soul.

Two hemispheres once met OPEN a shimmering portal, a parallel universe, out from which you bow into my world to transform everything I’ve ever known. Your positive energy produces an orange aura that moves your shadow asway, mesmerizing me.

Closer…closer…a steady, measured approach as float turns to a sturdy gate, you move towards me with a smile on your face. Inching yourself over to my naked body. Warmth from your eyes saturates my skin with the tickles of goose bumps, and you bend down on one knee.

A natural moonlight melody comes from your lips, “Kelley, I’m here…” And your arms cover me with an instant embrace that whisks me up…up and away…

In your world, you cradle me as I become the color of free.

(Oh, my addiction to the thrill of adoration! I literally roll my wheelchair in and out of challenging all day, every day…but, I take the longing, under the covers…you are intoxicating!

However, coveting with intensity, longing to consume the joy of your fire…I couldn’t get much higher…)

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…toΒ 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.)

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.