not sleepy

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.

Haven’t thought much lately. At least nothing too deep. It is 4:09 am. Our apartment is quiet. The apartment above us is quiet. No footsteps creaking or baby crying. The curry smells from next door are tamed. Our dinner dishes are washed and a week’s worth of work clothes are ready. Freshly pressed.

Some where, some one is moving. The force of life is being applied. Rightly? I hope so. We all hope so. Except the person with a gun in hand pays no attention to our wishes. An argument ensues. And words are bad but not good enough for the gun in hand. Words kill but bullets finish the job. No compromising, in that town. Not today. Not ever.

It is an hour before the sun rises. I am too far away from the Atlantic to look out the window and watch the sun appear. I take life for granted. The easy flow of air. I imagine the moon is the same. Thoughtless.

come togther in the morning … (another writer’s blog)

β€” Read on utahan15.wordpress.com/2018/05/19/28114/

This blog may not be to everyone’s sensibilities. Be ware the language as he opens the curtains to forbidden lands. A whispered prayer ascends to disinfect his world with sunshine. His raw feelings bend the light, colors remain while the audience stares in amazement. Perplexed grins in both directions.

i cause to wonder who spoke the world into existence? And on what day? Had i arrived to the party too late? Missed the cake and ice cream?

As life would have it, my heart melted and there was no cleaning up the mess.

Just some words from my heart. Thanks for the follow… and happy to follow back… jπŸ’œπŸ•ŠπŸŽΆ

collision course

Oh my. I think i said too much. I can be quite careless, sparked by passion. Lit by a struck match and ignited by fuel. Kaboom! I have definitely gone off in too many directions.

Without giving away every secret attraction, i best quit while ahead of myself… wait for my senses to catch up.

No worries though. i am rolling towards a cool breeze to sit near the waves. Settle this sizzle. i need to cool off. Lava easily burns. No need to hurt myself or others.

i will find my footing and self-discipline. Discover where i want this blog to go.

What life holds in the cradle of birth waits in the depths of dark…

JπŸ’œπŸ•ŠπŸŽΆπŸŽΆπŸŽΆ

One more for the road…

Post. Not a drink. But i think i will pour myself a sour cherry bier from Victory Brewing… right after i turn off my phone a while. (I will be back…)

Love this baby picture of me. One of the few where i am properly dressed. My shoes are shined and my hair is brushed. I am smiling and not crying. Happy. I like to believe my childhood was happy. I think it probably was.

There are no memories to recall from this time period. Similar to when i have had one too many beers, rum and cokes or margarita… Probably best i cannot recall anything at all. That way i wake up happy and carefree!!

Stay safe and have a great weekend. Do not drink and drive.

Catch you all later πŸ»β€οΈπŸ•ŠπŸŽΆπŸŽΆ

musing on over

She is not crazy. She is a Pisces.

Being a self-proclaimed writer/painter has its casualties. You become lost to foreign worlds and your only escape is reality.

So i have grown to know a few of my blog followers more intimately. And i am honored they have come into my life and shared tidbits of soul with me. And i have shared too. A tad bit.

I have never vigorously pursued horoscopes but recently a few people shared their signs and i must say i am captured. Scorpio and Pisces are my two favorite signs. And being a Pisces i relate to both of them well.

Love is an illusion, platonic friend. Stay a while and rumble through my head.

I have a series of these photos. I love looking at them for hours. Getting lost in the movement. The changing shapes mimic me, day by day. Often hour by hour. I can feel the caress as they wind their way past my eyes and settle where they may.

What do you see?

Wishes

if wishes
were fishes
i’d sail the seas
but wishes
broken dishes
fail to please

Telemarketers. Sorry i hung up on you. But you have no idea who you are asking or why i possibly would care about your cause!

I have my pet non-profits. My house would be overrun with the world’s needs if i allowed them too. But i am a free spirit! I need air to breathe!

**********πŸ€•

This world is overwhelming. The brokenness is more than this heart can embrace. I am sure there is some one else who can help you. I hope so!!! πŸ˜£πŸ’”πŸ˜’

Now my day is ruined. Moping about, worrying about the world. This is why i need to learn to laugh! πŸ˜‚ πŸ’¨πŸƒβ€β™€οΈ

Knock, Knock…

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

What news!! We are making an offer on a house today. And it is absolutely, mind-blowing gorgeous. This rock wall, which Massachusetts is infamously famous, is even more magnificent then this picture depicts. In fact, my heart barely blips on the screen when i look at this photo.

The rock is 20 feet tall and looks west towards Mount Wachusett. There is a perfect view perched atop this mighty fortress. A quick stroll down the road and this…

Tread carefully…

One day. Twenty-four hours. I turned from wanting to interact with others to bonafide afraid for my life. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. Stinging nettles in my eyes. I can barely see to type…

Be wary of strangers. What you reveal in the throes of intensity. A passionate heart reels you in. Anger and cursing and wanting sex… glad i did not betray my privacy. Give out my number.

Feeling threatened by another blogger. I only want to write. Be friends. Explore the universe. So, please, don’t invite me into your hell to abuse me with cursing tirades. Your intention to destroy me should be shelved.

I won’t be contacting you even when my nature is to offer forgiveness and understanding. I do not trust a raging tiger with my life. My soul. Gladly i will go.

(You can contact me if you have remorse. I will accept an apology. Nothing more.)

Confession

I promised to be more deliberate this year. I am the same fly-by-the-seat of your pants, wishy-washy, gal of yesterday. My posts are erratic. My feelings ride the rails.

I am a blundering mess. I walk through fire, over pebbles, move stone hedges, fly over grassy fields, wander lonely roads, dig graves, wade in muck, climb thorny trees, wallow in sorrow, and then. And only then begin to see.

Making sense

Who understands this world? I produce all these catch phrases, to amuse myself. Words to rule my life, but i still fall down.

The scars are piling high. There is no one to climb the mountain. Even i am too tired.

So, tomorrow, when i am considering “Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well-lived.” will i listen to the song i hum as i walk? Or will i remain the shattered thing that has missed the mark every time i attempt to run?