Each piece,
a pioneering puzzle,
the ultimate game of intrigue,
even intimacy,
exploring how pieces fit together
but to bare the pulchritude
buried within the secret
life of another.
What do you see
in the morning
first light of day?
What do you do to play?
Do responsibilities get in the way?
OR Do you SIEZE THE DAY!
???
I can’t stop myself
from wondering along my way.
Heavy-chested today, rolling round so slow that often I’d stop and sigh, dampness welling without the cry. Why? I ask myself sans sound.
I don’t want to say goodbye, that’s why!
I feel like I have so much to say, so many things to learn, my heart breaks with a yearn. In my small world, my mind is something no one knows, but that’s what your words show, an understanding of what hurts and a positive way to think about it regardless. Like a superhero, your voice saved my soul!
I crave a conversation with depth and respect…god, I wish I could be your friend.
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;)
I want to lick the full moon, let it’s light flowing white, drip sips into my mouth open wide…How I love you perched hard ‘n’ high! Shower me with your power and make me come alive.
GROUNDED! I am. Hope is like magic to me. In a hopeful magic-mirror, I see a side of me that’s happy, electrified with new prospects of fun, giddy to grind with lust on my mind.
BUT Magic isn’t real. It’s a con.
When my brain gets too excited, it girgles naughty thoughts, and it tricks me into creating a story I want to hear, a fairy tale.
About my days, I go slow, eyes looking up, thinking in pictures of…
what if I found a connection
with a passionate friend, who tickles my fancy, OH yes, a muse for my fantasies…
Every look, every touch elevates your love…that’s how I wish you’d feel about me, addicted like I’m your very favorite thing.
Melancholy madness, knowing my truth. No magic can make me hope something will change. I’m doomed to accept my lustless fate, so I guess I’ll just go back to sleep.
YET
(I tell you true, this is happening right now!!!)
A yellow finch just now called my attention from my red pen bleeding onto my notebook paper.
Wheels turning I had to ponder, What is this bird saying?
He just keeps singing louder and louder, then I spot him high on a flexible limb, a cloud white floating as his backdrop:
“STOP! LOOK UP!”
He sang so lovely, not at all like the other birds, a voice and rhythm all his own.
Then, a sparrow chimes, “Just live…and be…love life…reality!”
As if stung by the sun, my eyes close, the pain in my neck feels like a knife in the muscle just turned, so a frown pulling my chin down, I wheel back into the cold darkness of the garage and close the door with a wrist-flip, twisting the deadbolt locked.
Enveloped by darkness, I see the remnants of that circle of light and I blink a quick-
CLICK!
Like a photograph, within my mind, I snap-shot this moment in real time where the moon eclipses the sun making me feel warm, less alone.
(I hope you never doubt your worth! I long to show you how much I need you in my life, or I swear I wouldn’t have been able to hang in this long:)
A joyful tear drops on my breast whilst watching the face in the mirror beat drums upon a colorful chest, reflecting what I want to be thinking, if only I could. Here, at the end of my finger tips, when there’s a mess going on in the world and at home, and I want to abscond, when I need grace, compassion, and strength, I’m so thankful to have a place to escape where I wear genuine smile for a change.
II
III
In the placenta-like sac of my soul a Wookiee pounds to break out.
Two fierce fists grip the walls, yanking open and tearing through.
The Wookiee be my soul re-born inspired, complete, thankful, free!
I take you to bed each night, a bear hug to my brain as I lie down physically, emotionally drained.
I wrap myself in the memory of that voice, that face, warming me deep in a secret place.
I eat those lines like spaghetti, sucking out the meaning of life as every ‘Ooohhh’ makes me feel high!
I watch the open eye gradually close, time measured by light, and know ‘Stay strong, you’re not alone tonight.’
A nips out chill
induces a clench
forearms spasm
clenching breasts,
slightly wet,
as my fingers
pay homage
in tiny taps
upon my mug,
and I inhale
the steam whiffs,
succumbing full
body high
going back
to once in time
my smile
felt GENUINE
Glowing!
I felt my shine.
Fetal position at the bottom of a basket hanging by strings beneath a rainbow balloon full of hot air floating adrift up, UP
UP and AWAY
I want to stay high! In fact, I want the fire to blow me higher!!!
I know fantasy doesn’t last, but the only time I feel my heart beat is kissing a moment past.
WHACK-SMACK! Reality’s back.
I twist my hair into a stiff bun, pick up my broom, sweeping lines of longing under the rug..
I’ve lived alone on the border of Arizona and Mexico, Phoenix, Flagstaff, Denver and Littleton, Colorado, and many towns in Indiana. I did alone well. I used to go to bars and concerts alone, restaurants and museums. I used to roll my wheelchair up mountains to take pictures, sail and rock climb to get high.
High is my current state of being, struggling to get by, OCD with animals constantly shedding, pain aching, pricking, and stabbing day in day out.
I don’t yell or shout, I never fight (despite the nitpicking comments thrown at me, blaming me for everything that goes wrong).
Silently (except in my head), I just keep cleaning up, dying to feel young, supple again, not an old wrinkly wench.
Dreams save my life, as a distraction from all my strife.
Hopelessly Inappropriate Thoughts 