The unexpected, possibly disturbing blog post...

Sometimes the blackness comes
and all we want to do
is dig deeply into it
don't want to see the sun,
hear the sparrows
just want to get lost in darkness
sometimes it's just too hard to live.
the will is gone
lie with hands stretched out
nothing to grasp onto
will anyone see into the hole
find a way into the tunnel
where you are buried?
the timing is always off
you can't quite get out
but can't quite find
the end
stuck in the middle
no light from either side
feeling your way through
the darkness
finding only walls
there's nobody home
you can hear voices
people laughing
living
somewhere
but you can't quite get there
every once in awhile
a voice comes through
you hear it crystal clear
then as quickly as it came
it fades away
and silence remains
sometimes the silence is
so loud
it's deafening
you want to claw your eyes out
rip your heart out
because you're dying with the silence
it's too much to bear
you wish you could just
bang your head on the concrete
watch the blood trickle out of your skull
but somehow everytime you try to do that
you just wind up with a big fat headache
drinking too much wine
writing crappy poetry
no one will try to understand
so you stop.
and once again...

the will is lost.

Always, All-ways

I will let you roll off my back
like so many soiled dreams
before
I do not need anything you offer
whether liquid-filled paper cups
or 15 second sound bytes
I refuse to feed the hunger
knowing too well
phantom pains and lies.
Emptiness is less palatible
but much easier to swallow
than saccharine half truths
told under a paper moon
I will give up this hunger,
without sacrificing thoughts of you~
who taught me how to feel,
every ounce of blood I shed,
every bitter tear of defeat,
every breath of agony.
How could I possibly forget you,
who taught me to dream
in
technicolor
of
tangerine lips
wildflower honey
independence
these
nothern light
dreams
of aborted songs
and perfected touch
You,
who told me
cages have keys
bars fade with memory
tomorrow is only sky,
and the wind can reach the ocean
but not in stillness.
I can starve off this hunger,
but never thoughts of you,
who above all else
taught me that
always,
all-ways,
there is love.
Inside of you
and surrounding you
whether you can feel it
or not.
There is love.

(this meesage is for you as much as me.)

Writing to the darkness (a letter)

I'm unsure of how to begin, what to say. I only know I have this urgent need to write to you. I've been sitting here trying to figure out what exactly it is that I want to say to you and I'm drawing a complete blank. What is there to say that will make any sense of what has happened? No words of mine can change this course of events, I cannot take away this pain you're going through. Words at this point are completely useless, yet, that is all I have to offer.

Alone in this moment there is no greater torture than knowing I have been the cause of your pain. I hate the realization that there is nothing to be done. No amount of wishing, nor actions, nor words will make things better. If time would allow, one moment, just one, I would hold you close to my heart and you would understand. Ear pressed against breast you would hear what I've been trying to tell you all along, this is no way to live and yet it is the only way to live. You would finally hear the echo of my footsteps, reluctant, walking away against my will.

I know your heart better than my own, empathy and intuition have given me full access to the fear and doubt that resides within. Why do you doubt what is certain, what has been written? A certainty such as this comes but once in a lifetime, you cannot alter destiny. I have seen you through many battles, many ages, and am completely devoted, inexplicably so, perhaps foolishly so. I have faith and believe in you, I love you with a depth you will never find elsewhere.

You will search, you will look in books, perusing every word, studying each exclamation mark, striving to understand the language. You will look in paintings, desperately seeking what lies beneath the layers of paint,searching for the brush stroke where beauty originated, only to find pain. You will listen intently to every whisper, in darkened corner booths, surreptitiously glancing around the room in hopes of yesterday making an impromptu appearance. You will clearly hear every groan of protest drawn from tired,musty beds, searching for an answer. You will deeply inhale the fragrant night, speeding along desolate countryside never glancing out the window to see where home lies, too busy adjusting to unaccommodating virgin leather seats.

You will look to the moon, with it's bald eye, for wisdom. You will glimpse a shooting star and believe you have found truth but will cry out as you realize it was only dust slipping through the sky, through your outstretched hands.

Your mouth taught me to fly, your words, crystallized like honey stung my lips with the weight of truth. Your body taught me to cry, choruses silently sung in unison,striking that elusive chord over and over begging for forgiveness, finally crying out against the oppressive reign 'hallelujah'.

There is no end, as there is no beginning, there is only this moment.

Always,
Self
© 2007 Crimson007

Elizabethtown Phone Scene

You just have to see the whole movie to fully appreciate everything, but this scene with the phone conversation just brings back good memories. I'm sure many of us have had similar conversations, the ones that go on for hours, where you never want to hang up.The part where he goes to the bathroom and then holds the phone outside the door to flush is classic! Reminds me of falling asleep on the phone when in high school talking to boyfriends and also a middle of the night conversation that didn't end until the sun was coming up. So many great scenes in this movie, not many available online, if you get a chance go rent the movie!

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Poised

My mind reels
open to the thought of possibilty
careening forward
down slippery slopes
across deep ravines
around complex bends
before applying the brakes
causing head-on-collision
Crash! Bam!
Settling with dust on solid ground
I have stopped.
Mind and body not in sync..
My body
remains poised
gracefully
one foot extended
pointed
lingering at precipice
questioning, faltering, unsure
whether
to l e a p , free falling
or retreat staggering
overwhelmed by vertigo
back to solitude & safety.
Back into myself.

Loopy on Nyquil~this is what happens when on meds

Cry like you mean it
Silent tears
Just don't cut it
Tear away from
Solitude
Blood roses
Sent too late
Sobbing wreck
She's no quitter
Graves for sinners
Even angels shed their wings
Back on the street
All the faces gray
Kaliedescope dreams
Swirl like cotton candy
Sugar dissolves in mouth
Suck it deep within
Scent your taste
With rose petaled skin
Fires burn
And ashes fall
Blistering pavement
Beneath her feet
Run faster
Faster
Faster
Still
Mind over matter
Shake it up in side your head
Shake it off
just..
Let go
Titantic water envelops soul
Drowning in pool of madness
Despair sets in
Past the point of dis-repair
Last breath gasped
as
Tears
drown

Rocket Gods

I try to make my mouth
form the words you need
but I'm frozen
what is left to say?
Cannot say 'I love you'
that requires active voice
we've been passive for so long now
crows have circled, fed, moved across the pond

Cannot say 'I'm sorry'
not to you at least,
only have my Self to apologize to
for believing fables spun
around, over my head,
planted seeds
deep inside my heart
germinated on windowsill
bathed in sunlight
then dumped out into new soil

Cannot say 'I forgive you'
for being so clever
using innocence
anointing your head
kneeling at your altar
self-made God~
Rockets flew past our window
charred earth left
where we lay clinging
to promises spoken
ambiguous as your Love

You,who knew this love
would keep me up at night
searching the horizon for a
glimpse of your shadow

You, who knew my belly would swell
anticipating your faithful promise
of return, reunion,lifetimes

You, who knew I would bleed
when you terminated this life
we shared
sloughing off dead cells
un-needed,unwanted baby
of Self
inner child aborted
left me with frozen embryos

sobbing on floor
curled back into fetus
finally the words form..
'I forgive..
You, Me, Us'
Through salty tears
oceans of regret wash away
I emerge head first
feet planted firmly
on new ground
a lusty cry swells from deep within
primal scream echoes off walls
claiming my birthright~
I choose Life.

Futility

If words were enough
motionless they would be too small
I can never reach you
my essence washed away in morning light
with ebbing tides
I will never penetrate your
soul
the map to your heart
is penned with phantom ink
all that lies before me
this blank page
your memory permanently stained
with thoughts of her
never to be erased
your eyes are dull
with the disease of longing
as you slowly waste away
Your ears have already
tuned me out
static fills the silence
of your daily frequency
You do not allow me to enter
this world
where you are drowning
in this drought.
My tears alone could
saturate your soul
drink of me
I promise
I will never let you drown.

All the words she never spoke could fill volumes..but once written down they are unspoken no more. What is the point then? Do we let the secrets of the heart spill out not caring who might happen to read them? Do we name names and places, leaving ourselves open to scrutiny and vulnerability? The words remain unspoken, unwritten..that way they do not exist, they cannot cause fear or pain..they can only torment from within.

diagnosis:betrayal

it isn't right to play
diagnostician
when you don't have the degree
to back up the advice
which you carelessly toss out
your experience doesn't make
you an expert
your circumstances don't fit
everyone's mold
I am not some psychological experiment
not shedding skin for you
pulling armor and sweater tightly
over bare flesh
naked no more
getting off this couch you've
laid me out on
our 50 minute hour
is over.

The Garden

The garden you planted
was ripe with promise, possibility
as you carefully placed seedlings into soil
making sure there was just enough space
between each to allow the chance to grow.
Your long hours of nurturing paid off
in early spring when the first blossoms began to show.
By summer you had a dazzling plot
of brilliant colors, tiny petal-faces
beaming up at the sun.
The first few years you tenderly
cared for your garden,
spending hours weeding out unwanted invaders,
cutting back to give shape, pruning to rejuvenate..
you were filled with pride and love
gazing upon the fruit of your labor.
Then the storms came blowing through
and in a hasty effort to retreat from the relentless
pounding of rain beating down upon your back
you rushed out of the garden,
trampling your most beautiful flower.
The flower was strong enough to survive the storm
it endured the harsh winds and rain..
now it rests with hopeful petal-face
against the dirt waiting for you
to come back, stand it upright
pack fresh soil around it,
keep it propped up straight,
until it's strong enough to stand alone,
once again vibrant, radiating life.
directly due south the sun is blazing brightly,
air filled with the smell of fresh manure & compost
stakes laid out & perimeter secured
a new Eden planned
while petal-face slowly whithers away
in soil drenched by tears.

Ghost of existence

I have wrapped my fear around me
like a tattered thrift store blanket
restless as the sea

I pace upon stripped wooden floors
while darkened corners
hide thick layers of dust
which have settled,
coming to rest on yesterday's
hopes and dreams
after a brief dance through sunlight.

Scraps carelessly tossed in my direction
are not enough sustenance
for inevitable daily wars.
Honeyed fallacies are whispered
in darkened rooms
where questions are sung to sleep
answers lie hidden somewhere in the chorus.
I refrain from drowning in your agony
that sticky sweet betrayal..

The light has prematurely faded
solar eclipse seen from pebbled courtyard
as a chill flows through the air.

Inside neither walls,
nor roof or windows
can keep out this storm.
Rooms on fire, bed is burning
still this house can't keep me warm.

Footsteps on the stairs
always walking away..
I remain shrouded in silence,
curator of your museum of artifice
dissapearing in the doorway
of regret.

A faceless, flowing dress
of rounded curves and plains
honey washed away with daybreak
bitterness all that remains
in this rain soaked Eden.

Unleash the rivers,
let rivulets stream forth
as tears fall from weary eyes..
your words linger, scars carved into my soul.

A prophecy spelled out
with impending spilling of ink
upon this parchment
certainty of 'the end'
while silent scars remain hidden
behind glassy eyes
never to be revealed.

black is the night
cold is the day
heart of stone
slowly chiseled away
no hope in sight
not here nor there
not anywhere
ancient voices call her name
ghosts of memory
long walk of shame
walk away from the light
never as bright as that star in the sky
painfully give up the fight
slipping away
into oblivion
no one noticed
no one heard
silent
scream
or phantom fists
upon a chest
it's a gray day and a black night
nothing left to invest
i am
going
under
ground.

Sometimes it's best to be concise.
Fuck you.
I think that covers it all...

Close the curtains..

Dear....

I felt you this morning. You were thousands of miles away and yet right in the room with me.Is it possible the mind can actually connect two souls at the same time? Did you feel me this morning? I was there with you. A powerful tingling shot up my spine and my body involuntarily shuddered. With gossamer fingertips I caressed your flesh and said 'I'm sorry' when I touched a particularly sensitive spot.

I whispered things which I would never say out loud into your ear and as we spoke, in silence,I became painfully aware of my heart becoming coaxed from the cavity of my chest and coming to rest on my sleeve. I quickly closed the curtains, pulled my sweater closer to my body, hastily retreating back inside myself.. I hope you didn't see too much.

Trying something different

I know so far I've posted poems here..and that should be the main focus of this blog I suppose, since I have another blog elsewhere to ramble. But, it's my blog and I've never been much of a conformist so I'm going to mix things up now and then. This morning I find poetry is boring me. I'm tired of trying to make the words meaningful and poetic and fit just right, look just right on the page. Poetry is more than just words, it is an art form. So today I'm switching to letter writing. These letters may be truth or fiction, to real or imaginary people. We'll see what comes out of this. Apologies to my writer friends in advance since they are most likely to read this..no thuggings this is just an exercise for my brain. :) Letters to come throughout the day.

I have
f
a
l
l
e
n
i n t o
passion
that is the closest explanation
I can find
for what I feel for you
Love?
Yes
but so much more
there are few things
in life
that I am truly
deeply
passionate
about.
YOU
are one of them

swirling
concentric
circles
around
my gray matter


burning a hole
into
my very core

Thoughts
un r a v e l…..
give pause
and
bleed
fervently wishing
mind-love
could be enough
to sustain

bits
and pieces
scattered crumbs
here
and
there
are my daily diet
a slow but steady drip…
these
pieces
of
you

Naked Embrace

I want you naked
on your back
pushed down hard
under attack
mouth to flesh
hands in my hair
stripping away
your every care
a wicked smile
upon my lips
as I dare to venture
below your hips
a sharp breath inward
as our dance begins
fingertips gliding
over your skin
looking up and
meeting your gaze
sensing your passion
your fire ablaze
becoming one
where once we
were two
sinking deeply
so long overdue
the music
has ended
and yet
we remain
deeply transcended~
completely expended

Conduct Me

There’s a frenzied orchestra that needs to perform tonight.
A deep desire that burns within
my body hot to the touch
yet shivering so violently
every nerve ending peaked
my pulse has quickened
my breathing shallow
coming faster now
emotions once hidden
need an escape
head back
eyes closed
fingertips assuming
an imaginary lover
who conducts the orchestra
in perfect harmony
rhythm
and key
beginning pianissimo
with a lone cello
featherweight
caressing
and gradually building
stronger
louder
Andante
becomes allegro
when presto!
it peaks
the note sustained
back arching
sweat drenched
held as long as possible
then fades
and slowly ebbs
back to
silence

The Wind in Me

I don't want to become
The tiny speck
That gets blown away
By the sheer force of the wind

I want to BE the wind…

I want to be the wind
That steals your breath away,
The wind that guides your sails

I want to be a whisper in your ear,
A song that comes to you
And consumes your soul..

I want to move your clouds
let you luxuriate in the sunlight
Remembering how pleasing
It feels to be warm

I want to shake the door
You hide behind
With tumultuous force
Tear down those walls
And carry you away

I want you to feel me
Even when you cannot see me
To carry me with you
When we are apart

I want to give you water
When you thirst
Quench the desire
That burns into your soul

I want to..
Howl for you
Blow for you
Haunt your every dream..

I want to make you dance like
The leaves which plummet from the trees
Softly spiraling
Back down to earth

I want to tenderly
caress your skin
Envisioning the goose-bumps
My presence creates

I want to scent you
With my perfume
And linger on your skin
Co-mingling with your own pure scent


I want to be your sunny wind
Your rainy wind
Your stormy wind
Your ONLY wind..

I want to..
Wash away your sorrows
Dry the tears you weep
Tenderly
reverently
silently

I want to..
Greet you in the dawn
Parting the curtains so you
May once again see…


My whisper to you…

The wind
Is me

words unspoken..part one

You have no idea of the thoughts hidden away in my brain.
Thoughts so ripe with possibility that I have dared to vocalize them,
in twilight hours when silence amplifies them.
Thoughts which are incomplete
bursting with uncertainty,
full of longing.
If I told you would you hear me?
I doubt it.
There is no room in your life
for a girl of averages
and no room in mine for silly daydreams
of places that will never be more
than a name on paper, a dot on a map.

Seasons of my life~Jan-April

January

January brings
a birthday
the superbowl
a wedding
followed by a car crash
palpitations
the beginning of mysterious symptoms
countless hospital visits
a distant memory
of snowy evening
sneaking out
braving snowy roads
for candlelight
passionate kisses
while dreaming of big beds
and squeaky wooden floors
fireplaces to illuminate
& entrance
songs played only for one
January...
long cold days
made warmer by a lover's kiss


February

A cold, rainy February evening
waves of pain overtaking thought
time to leave the warm cocoon
safety of home
venture into their sterile environment
and wait....
trepidation, primal fear
then suddenly a change,
threshold for pain pushed to the limit
screams echo in the room
"I can't do this!"
Squeezing a hand
breathing deeply through pain
digging deep
finding untapped strength
pushing with the pain
finally ~relief!
"It's a girl!" the Doctor shouts
repeating his words
tears spill down my cheeks
a circle is made complete..
I feel her presence from another realm
as softly she whispers to me~
now you know
just how much I loved you
as only a mother can love her daughter
peace and comfort wash over me
my journey has begun as mother.


March

3:20 AM, 1976
I pushed my way into this world
my mother's most difficult birth
a stubborn Ram, even then
and so
my journey begins...
from newborn to 8 years
a normal childhood
two loving parents,
childhood pets
cupcakes brought to class
for birthdays
family gatherings for holidays
average middle class suburbia
Then I turned 8.
For my 8th birthday I wanted
a nurse cake.
Dreams of becoming a dancer or teacher
dissipated quicker than her health.
I proudly told mommy,
"I'm going to be a nurse just like Miss Karen,
so I can take care of you too."
I tried my best,
sitting with her in the dark air conditioned bedroom
offering her water, cool washcloths, and pictures
I'd colored of rainbows and flowers.
Before I'd turn 9 I would give up the dream of
being a nurse..they couldn't save her,
neither could I.
She died on the first day of third grade,
somewhere between the pledge of allegiance
and recess.
I didn't cry, not until my dad offered me
that damn gold pen from the funeral home
it looked so fancy,
I figured it must do something amazing.
like write away the truth of the moment..
rewrite the plot, bring the main character
back from the dead?
I was so sure it did something, that I asked my dad.
My grandfather and him laughed at my question
and told me it did 'nothing'
That was the first time I remember crying.
After the funeral I did not attend
once back at school I wanted normalcy
above all else.
No one should talk about it,
no one should know about it..
I'm just a normal 8 year old,
in an extrodinary gifted 3rd grade class.
Who just happened to get pulled out
the first day of school because her mom died.
Keep smiling and they'll belive you're just like them.
Life was never the same after that...
the years blurred



9 years later I celebrate
more than a birthday
17 years old, nearly an adult
I am still weak from mono
but strong enough to get out of bed
leave the house, no longer home
see the world through a 1964 mustang
instead of a bedside view.
this is reason to celebrate
breathe in spring air
smelling it's freshness, innocence...
He came back to town
bringing flowers
in hopes of a kiss
a last ditch effort at 'i'm sorry..
for last October, not believing you,
all I put you through that day'
He forgot to apologize for leaving
without saying good-bye
leaving me waiting in pre-sunrise hours
to make the journey up to Boston
but never showing up.
In a years time he will be mostly forgotten.

365 days pass by once again
and I am embarking
taking flight
on what is to be one of the greatest
adventures of my life
headed overseas, to reunite
with my lover
whose sugar flows to my lips
as honey flows from my hips
my mystery man
who calls me, 'my me'
strums his guitar
singing me poems
in the darkness
songs only I will hear
in a strange English flat
as sirens ring out
warning of danger
and things yet to come....

April, go Away


Ah April...
you bring new life
in purple hues
tiny flowers sprouting up
from the cold wet ground
defying nature
I walk the path
that will never be forgotten
counting footsteps
12 steps up
and 12 steps
d
o
w
n
memories come flooding back--

a childhood home
now empty
countless days and nights
spent in these walls,
bedroom full of memories-
secrets that will remain untold...
nights of laughter
gasping for breath
as we shared our stories

standing here with her
more of a sister than best friend,
the most truthful
part of my family-
we cry
embracing each other
with words unspoken
understand the significance
of all of this

I cradle my newborn
as she nuzzles my breast
and think of my mother
sitting here in this rocker
nursing me, sustaining my life..

the last boxes are packed
big yellow truck in the driveway
nosy neighbor peeking out
just like always
not much has changed
except my parents
are moving 2800 miles away
leaving me here
alone

we say goodbye to the house
that became our home
changed through the years
as they tried to erase the memory
of my mother
too painful for them
but the memories remain
tucked away in our hearts
some things will never change..

A year ago I was overseas
and returned to another empty house
it doesn't feel like home
although now there is a family there
mother
father
daughter
but something is missing
something that will never surface,
it's just a house..
a distant memory now
from the past
my home, and my heart
will always reside on Chestnut St.
by Zachy's pond-
my place of solitude
more memories unfold..

April...
I've blocked you out
Not wanting to remember the more recent past
for it was you
who brought the beginning
of this painful journey
that I am still stuck on
wheels spinning
going nowhere
you gave me the first glimpse
of what life was to become
a labrynth of phone calls,
battling insurance companies,
studying terminology--
learning there are too many
who share this road,
too many lost in this maze..
too many pieces
that just don't fit.

I don't like you April...
you took away my family
and forced me to confront
my deepest darkest fears
Hurry away now...
bring us May and her flowers,
we've had enough of you and
your drenching shower of sorrow