the world disappears
nothing exists, drift off
walk between moon and earth
I am amazed at the number of door lovers!!! This infatuation reminds me when I was contemplating names for my first child. No one had named their child Emily in ages, and wanting a unique name along with a poetic significance, I declared my first born child to be Emily. And for ten years after, Emily was the #1 name in the United States. The name remains popular but not to the extent it was from 1990-2000.
These are pretty average doors. And a window. Right?
Perhaps. They mean a tremendous amount to me. They house numerous family stories. This room was once my daughter’s bedroom until she went to college, then moved to Boston, whereupon it became my writing room filled to the brim with my words, thoughts and ideas for future words and thoughts. And paints, fabrics, cameras, and color.
Now it is emptied of me and awaits a new history. I think I will leave a token of appreciation for the new residents… Maybe a new blogger will move in and share their space with us?
*The color of the walls is Sherwin Williams Anew Gray and the flooring is Spiced Oak. All brand new for a future family.
Photo modified with Pic Collage
Beware the sun setting. This encourages the claws to rise within.
Early this morning i was doing well. It is now mid-day. I feel myself sailing off into the abyss.
This abyss is not heaven. Its hell on steroids. Whether its the packing up of my beloved writing room, or the thought of getting on an airplane Sunday morning, my mind is working up into quite a frenzy.
It has been days of this craze. I am unsure where it stems from. But it has arrived. And I best chill or I will be so agitated nothing will scrape me off the walls.
January 2, 2018
I am quite fearful of sharing the dark existence but on occasion it slips and sails. I am safely back into my cocoon. Well, what was my home. This once rapturous dwelling now expects me to hurry up and wear my wings indefinitely. Be vigilant and ready for take-off. I much rather undress and retire. Lie wistfully contemplating the atmosphere. The soul immersed in each layer, teetering between and through.
So how will my blog look going into 2018. I wish i knew. I have no idea. It most likely will stay this raw, unedited mess that lacks direction. On a whim i may post my photos. Or get ambitious and finish my quilts. Or unpack my paints and create worlds unknown to most.
she never remembers
no matter -how
many times did you tell her
you love and adore
the way she loves you back?
she always tells you
her disease possesses
the curved back, spread
skies and deeper still
the open thighs. no matter,
you have lost her eyes
as she asks for the night
wrapped in television screen
of what might have been
Am i only here
voices calling me home?
fate dropped me off at the corner
i linger -waiting for you
a void lives in this city
night life no longer welcomes
and voices in dreams -scream.
Caladelis Island FL 2017
wave washes ashore
abandoned family secrets
progress, create more
(Day Four White Sands)
Refuse me -and
my words, you treat them like daggers
homeless thoughts with nowhere to perch
they need rest, a safe place to sleep. Tonight,
my mind in a whirl and only pills can stop the twirl
swallowed with a bottle of Sailor Jerry’s rum -Yum!
regrets in the morning always come!
Still no plan to conquer these thoughts
memories caught. I have pocketfuls
reach in, they grab my hand -won’t release, until
I take one out, massage, breathe in.
Not going to dirty up my life, but I always do
slyly creep into sleep and vanish once again.
Just two weeks left of tutoring and I already miss Heaven, Hayden, Bently and DeAnthony. Us tutors invited the parents or guardians to come view their child’s masterpieces. We hope they show up because these kiddos are so proud of their art. So much so they can barely stand to wait and bring the creations home, wherever home may be.
standing on street corners
holding signs, smiling through hunger
our eyes meet
i feel uncomfortable
what can i say
hand him a dollar
walk on my way
what easy solution exists?
none, when they choose street life
he speaks of quantum physics
claims to have solved
time and space in minutes
calls us yuppies
a bygone ’80’s term
says he travels by day
perhaps he will stay -here
with no family
they have gone their own ways
i wonder if they care
he unwilling to see
their love is real
he packs his machete and change of clothes.
(Met Jessie in Bloomington during our stay at McCormick Creek State Park. My husband and I sat at a camp fire conversing with Jessie and two other vagabonds. All three were homeless, Eddie, retired military and Ernie, recently released from prison, looking to start new and heading to Florida. They hadn’t invited Jessie feeling he was too unstable.)
Trail 5 is 2 miles through moderate terrain. The White River had flooded so the creek was high and walking the 2 miles we encountered high water. I had not seen Wolf Cave before and wanted to crawl through but it was too wet, not to mention it was really dark. Claustrophobia could easily set in. Perhaps another day.
Seek knowledge of multiple aspects in life; relationships are complicated.
I feel a need
explain myself, hoping misconceptions
do not blur the mirror between our faces.
Our breath fogging up the air.
Waves are what you believe.
Rowing towards another
smooth sailing desired
frantically head towards the shore.
Prepare for the storm
learn navigation, obstacles overcome
hide in the corner, drowning all senses
to trust or mistrust.
Cheating ourselves of courage
of what could be
love atop a mountain view
or mourning under sea.
Ocean rowing is very much what you make it. Rowing technique is pretty irrelevant on the ocean. It’s the psychology that’s important. –Roz Savage