midlife crisis

a star burst

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sweet as candy,

as addictive

as lips part crack…

The layers of depth,

the hints of wandering wonder,

the offering of perspective,

a journey of enlightenment

from beginning to end,

a glittering reflection

of intuitive introspection

from my memory, here and now,

this is what you showed me:

The open road of possibility,

the hills of the adventure,

golden fields, the ocean

waving  birds on the breeze,

even a pole calling me to speak…

images of the beauty so often I can’t see

in my world, I can’t find in me,

you expose me to a warmth

that tints my cheeks as fuchsia

as in your colorful shirt,

with my brain’s heat

pervading by body,

affixed I watch a star dancing

bursting energy in front of me…

the open sky eyes, the wide wise smile…

a moment I treasure,

unlike any my brain

could possibly conceive

made my love light

again begin to glow

(after ten years of being off,

void of desire and possibility),

now light makes my heart sing.

SHINE

Inspiration to find my road to passion.

Pictures of You

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Always reading as a child in some dark corner, my mind would take an idea and make it into the most outrageous thing, then off on a brain trip, I’d keep myself entertained. I think in pictures and phrases, and repetition gives me comfort as a creature of habit. 

There’s no off switch for someone like me.

As an adult, my eyes see things and make an imprint for me to experience repeatedly until palpable…and I get emotional.

I don’t watch or play games on my phone, honestly, I can barely use it, therefore, it’s an intimacy I’m not used to. I think that’s why when I hit the app icon, and you pop up, I always jump and become a tickled toddler, surprised a picture is moving before my eyes.

As I watch your creative beauty unfold in the palm of my hand, I cry juicy tears. It’s happened multiple times.

There’s an addictive sweetness to your personality and to your talent and to your rhythm and to your voice. I swoon, heat pervading my chest, warming up my throat.

My hands overlap at the nape of my neck, tight as a black and blue butterfly just before flight.

I fear things that make me feel as good as you do…Oh, the glow of such a passionate soul.

Time will heal my fear, but until then, I’ll just keep writing here.

truth hurts

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In my brain, it’s easy to escape into a creative day dream, in which I’m pampered with romance, interesting, and sexy, knowing how to speak perfectly.

Life isn’t that sweet.

In my world, as I lie in bed, mind bending towards the light of new giddiness, smoke rings of DOUBT cloud my focus.

I snap at myself, Eyes stare straight! Find the sun’s reflection!

I close my eyes, unlock the GLOW…

Stunning illumination ignights an avid hunger to reach out, touch the sun simply to feel again, to BURN.

But, I would never have the courage.

Unkind shadows have kept me trapped in a dark bed for decades as smoke-ropes ring around my heart, hands, and neck, choking and eating my self-esteem, reminding me how bad the smoke makes me feel.

I guess I don’t allow myself to glow for long, feels so good I have to make it wrong, can’t help my passion’s hella strong. But, it’s true too…it’ll be alright soon.

It’s gonna be…

a wonder to the light

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Basking in the summer sun, humidity sucks upon my skin’s glisten so that hot and bothered, I try to talk to my lovely wonder out loud:

I ask the light, “Are you always this bright? Or do you actually know my soul, and that’s why your glow makes me so giddy I’m dizzy?”

(Talking to myself, I can’t fathom a true reply, so I go on, knowing that here, when I write, from my own truth I don’t hide🙂

“Your shine twinkles glitter and gold specks, mesmerizing my heart to melt into a fuchsia fusion of delightful energy, and into a slippery fall, I willingly tumble, embracing the dream with no expectation at all.”

(Oh, my dear, fear builds them brooding Indiana cornfield cumulonimbus clouds that tremble a thunder of doubt in the backdoor of my mind…

You’re still just a romantic fool by yourself, creating a beautiful reflection of a connection that you must have felt in another lifetime.

Honestly, regardless if I’m in a midlife dream just before 50 or if I’ll never again feel such a passionate glow in the eyes of a similar creative soul, I’m glad for the treasured moments I now have to hold when life feels unkind, and I get dark and cold!

For the glow, I’m eternally grateful;)

To embrace the theme of planting seeds to grow, I can’t wait to meet you for the first time…again, and this song hits my mood right tonight:

A lovely music league winner 🏆

Snap

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I loathe when I’m hurt. I revert to a machine, doing and smiling, like everything is hunky-dory. I feign being there. Crying inside my mind, I wonder, why try?

Weeks of negativity, picking on what I say or how I speak, how I look or how I think, irritation no matter what I do…damned if I speak, damned if I’m too quiet, damned is how I feel.

SNAP

My fingers kiss-smack my magic back! 

No one but ME can let someone else tell me what to believe about myself.

flipped the switch

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When I’ve flipped a switch, it’s usually negative: Turned on the TV, Clouded the crazy with the world’s storms, and then reaction, my switch gets flipped, my “Bitch Switch” that is, going on an incensed apocalyptic tirade about how maybe the world should end?!?

This time, believe it or not, I’m calm, watching things go down slow…

C-L-I-C-K

I’ve flipped a switch

ON!

Then, I fingered the intensity knob with deliberate care, twisting an incremental strength of light, controlled from dim dialed up to shine, ensuring I enjoy the progression of time.

blue used to feel black

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Blue used to feel black, like a head whack! But, with a smack! back, because of you, blue feels bright almost a teal tropical skyline at dawn, shady clouds hanging out, shaking off the grey dew warmed to twinkle in the sun anew. When my melancholy mind is on the attack and all feels forever daunting and totally MAD,  watching you transforms the blue and tickles my soul to make even my eyes smile, reminding me, things aren’t so bad, just find a way to laugh;)

crazy big crack

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Night is the lonliest not-alone time of the day. The bustle is gone, chores done, and I rub lotion onto my sore hands. The quiet is deafening to me, being so near other people, yet no one notices it’s my voice they don’t hear…really, it’s just like I’m not there, instead, there’s a ghost or shadow of an energy that once was vibrant, sassy, sometimes even sexy, a now dark matter taking up space…Sometimes, I wish I had something in common with someone in my house, then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t feel like such an ASS with a crazy, big crack.

self-dout flies

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self-doubt became flies buzzing round my brain feasting on the corpses of past hopes and dreams

I’ve tried to stop swatting at them, it never helps

do I have to kill them?

maybe if they eat all hope

all expectation

all imagination

maybe then I can finally find FULL

or I could just lose myself to the wanton wolves that already devoured my soul

who am I now? which way will I go?

I wish I could embrace my doubt and say:

“It’s ok, it’s gonna be alright, everything you do is done with love in your heart, don’t hate yourself because you are.”

bursting bubbles

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Long, strong fingers fold round the palm of my frail hands, gently engulfed, while the kindest eyes took in my words, as if I matter in this disconnected world.

I couldn’t resist, I let my frigid heart beat heat with his words. A soft tone succulent, vibrates vibrant bubbles to burst in me, almost orgasmic!