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Surreality
The shadows surround each parked car,
glooming up,
swallowing hoods and fenders,
lurking in front of darkened headlights,
stealing away as my eye
catches their evil.
Innocent bunnies
bare fangs
and have a Mexican stand-off
in the middle of the street,
dashing off angrily in opposite directions
when I approach.
A dog barks deeply
the sound lingering
in my backyard,
spreading out thickly through the
cool, damp, air.
I do not have a dog.
It is snowing in May.
I tremble from exhaustion,
fumble with the light switches
curl up in a soft bed
and live inside my dreams.
Family
Why do you come to my dreams
And fill them with stars and messages?
Why does the world look so much the same
Yet so different in that wherever place?
How can I understand
What you are trying to tell me
When the skies keep shifting?
When faces change from known
To unknown?
When the words fade upon waking
Only to return
At odd hours in brief snatches?
I have no answers, only memories of dreams now.
Pigs
Racing across the field
Snouts to the wind,
Trotters trotting,
Hooves kicking up the dry Kansas dust,
They bounce,
They bound,
They skip,
They prance,
They rise,
They fly.
Note: I’m a late starter to NaPoWriMo, so I’ll have to catch up by writing a couple of extra poems in one day!
Over Tired
Tired is an insufficient word
to express
The buzzing-hollow-drained feeling sometimes
leftover from a night’s unrest,
A night when strangers
stage dream interruptions
walking though a set not meant for them,
startling the dreamer,
A night of lingering spirits
of an unrecalled past
who are unrepentant in their repetitive passing
up and down the creaky floorboards,
the product of a sensitivity to souls
or an exhaustion-striped imagination,
either way,
equally real,
and
raptly unfinished.
There are few things more enticing that a bending, streaming, strip of macadam. I have always felt this way, and always sought them out. And I will never stop. Surprises are just around every curve.
Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado.
Quote of the day: “Whatever we carry inside us shapes everyone we touch.” – Nancy Jensen
Daily gratitudes:
Barefoot babies
A beautiful day today
MKL
The stunning coral/golden woman on 16th Street today
Fuji apples
I love flying. I especially love flying when the clouds are creating magic, as they did this day.
Somewhere above the southeastern U.S.
Quote of the day: “There is no shame in being a victim; the shame is in living like one.” – me
Daily gratitudes:
Puppies
Swooping birds
Iced green tea
The vintage jewelry store on Larimer Street
Soft sunsets
I have been having water dreams lately. Lots and lots of water dreams for weeks, I think. Water dreams are strange things for me. They have always been portents of huge and significant changes. And generally not good changes. They are always similar in character. I am by the ocean and the waves are huge, engulfing everything, and I am trying to survive, to push through them, to stave them off. Doesn’t take a Jungian dream analyst to figure that one out, does it? What I know for sure is that they are certain predictors of something big happening. Generally, how I am able to survive in the dream indicates the level of intimacy with which the change will affect me, but not always. Sometimes, there are people I know with me in the dream, and they are usually impacted in real life whenever the change comes.
So, another water dream last night, coming on the heels of yesterday. Yesterday sucked. I won’t really go into why yesterday sucked. Suffice it to say that it did. BIG TIME. I am hoping today will be better. Hope springs eternal.
Ex-Pat has endocarditis and septicemia. He will be in hospital at least until Friday. According to my readings on the Internet, this is scary stuff. Really scary stuff.
The Internet can be your trusted friend or that devious individual on the street corner hissing to you that the world will end soon and he will take care of your pets when the rapture comes. When too much information on one topic is available, it is easy and hard at the same time to pick what you are going to believe. I read that septicemia is the same as sepsis, and that the odds of survival are about even. I read that it wasn’t, and that the survival odds are about 90 percent. I read that endocarditis can cause strokes, and that he’d have about six months to live even after recovery. I didn’t read anywhere that he would pop out of his hospital bed on Friday and start romping with the lambs. And what I heard him say last night, when I pointed out to him that without getting treatment he would have died and pretty darn quick at that, was that maybe that would have been better, as his daughter is the only thing he has to live for. (Which to me is a huge reason to keep living.) But he’s lost his will. He’s in too much pain to walk, and they don’t know why. Things are looking bleak, to say the least.
I think I will try to talk to his doctor to get the full scoop, as he is too doped up to tell me much. Then at least I can share what is real with Kelsea, who comes home today.
On the other hand, I am still at his house, and it is filthy. Filthy. Just disgusting. Even though I said it is not my job to clean this place, and I know it isn’t, I am going to do so, enlisting Kelsea to help, so she can see what clean is, and how to make things that way. I can’t let her live in a place that is like this. In clearing off the kitchen table, I found receipts from 2009. And that was probably the most pleasant of my finds. I remember he was always mad at me because of all the paperwork in the house that I never went through. Now that he’s having to deal with his own mail, and receipts, and crap, I suspect he understands, but he would never own up to it.
I may even tear up all the rugs and try to find replacements at ReStore. They will never be clean, ever, no matter what I do. I will get the handyman to come in and get the holes in the walls patched. I will try to rebuild my own sense of love and trust. I will do two jobs and manage two houses. And then I will sprout wings and a horn out of my head and become a human unicorn.
I’m being realistic.
Aren’t I?
Image from http://spiritofhorseblog.com
The Light Behind
She passes from the brightest light
Through setting suns on edgeless seas,
Down wooden weaveways brushing night,
Caressed by gentle jungle trees.
Her dreams are moving far behind,
Left in the ruin of ruins past.
She exits stage right from her mind,
Remembering things that would not last.
The patterns playing in her eyes,
More luscious and intense by far
Than those she once could recognize
Though veiled and swaddled in the stars.
She shimmers, endless, full of grace,
Alive now in the world’s tired mind,
And those who loved her in this place
Spill tears in the trails she left behind.
Tulum, Mexico
Quote of the day: ”Completion comes not from adding another piece to ourselves, but from surrendering our ideas of perfection.” – Mark Epstein
Daily gratitudes:
The little girl in striped tights joyfully doing her Irish step-dancing as she walked down the 16th Street Mall this morning
People’s individual sense of style
Artistic graffiti
The sunny side of the sidewalk
Burnt orange
Spring soon come
I am extremely tired tonight, and that means I can get teary for no reason… but there is always a reason somewhere in the heart, isn’t there?
My heart and dreams have been rejected, nay, stomped on, but I am turning my face back to the sun, and starting to trust again. That makes me happy. It has taken a while.
Tonight is a perfect example of why I do not have smoke detectors. I cooked a steak. If I had smoke detectors, they would all be going off. All of them. Seriously. Way, way off.
I love the long way home – I don’t even think it’s any longer than the other ways home. But the roads are winding, and I get to pass my one of my favorite trees. And horses. And a little old abandoned farmhouse that I would love to call my own. And have amazing views of the mountains and the clouds. They matched tonight, with just a band of lemon sky in between them.
The earthquakes disturbed me last night and today. Not physically. Well, not exactly. I got home right around the time it was happening, but I wasn’t aware of it, though I think we were close enough to feel it. But the cat…aaaarrrrgh. She was feeling the “disturbance in the force”. She would NOT leave me alone. Lick my eyelids, sit on my head, bite my feet. Sounds like a porn movie gone very, very wrong, doesn’t it? I finally got her to settle down on the other side of the bed, so that I was not inhaling cat hair all night long. But I still didn’t sleep – I might have had two hours of half-sleep, in which I had dreams I didn’t like or understand. And something was missing from my recessed brain. I’ve had a presence that makes me happy in the background of my dreams for the previous five nights, and its absence was noticeable. So between the dreams and the missing connection, I tossed and turned, too hot, too cold, all over the map. Ugh. I’m so tired I HAVE to sleep tonight, or it will be like Oban all over again.
I haven’t had a random post in a long time. I had a lot more to say that I thought of when I was driving home, but after the near-fire and whatever, I’ve forgotten. Which means they’ll show up for another dose of randomness sometime soon.
Do you believe in soulmates?
I did. I don’t know if I still do or not.
My dear friend sent me this quote:
“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.
A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.
A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master…”
It’s from Eat, Pray, Love – a book my former flame bought for me and encouraged me to read. I started it on a plane with him, but felt it wasn’t the right time for me to read it. It’s still on my shelf. My friend who sent me the quote and I laughed about this because she’s done the same thing. Neither of us like hopping on bandwagons when they’re at their most popular.
I did feel like I had found my soulmate. As I’m emerging from the exquisitely painful and pleasurable ether of that lost relationship, trying to come to terms with loss, and trying to make a fresh start, I am thinking a lot about that feeling.
I was a dream. I was a breaking away. I was a fantasy come to life. I opened doors and souls and possibilities that had only lived in dreams before. I was ready to be a partner.
And BAM.
I didn’t fit into the real world, the world as it stood. I had to be hidden. I was a living symbol of a loss of honor and an established way of life. I was a reminder of shame and devastation and confusion - instead of what I truly was – a breath of change, an awkward angel, a chance to pursue something brave and beautiful and risky and scary in the company of an equal partner. Great change requires a journey of the soul, and it is not always fun, easy or comfortable. But in the end, it is always rewarding.
Enough people in the old life thought of me as a bad, evil person – and these are people who had never even met me. I guess if you hear that message enough, and if your fear is great enough, you come to believe it. You no longer see with your own eyes, and no longer feel with your own heart (thanks, Einstein). Sticking up for me was not an option. And so you take the easy, safe route. You take the interstate instead of the road less travelled. Because you cannot bear to dive into the reflection of your own soul that a soulmate offers you. Yes, there are things you did not expect to see there, and things that are hard to deal with, but being human and growing means that you do deal with those things, do accept your own faults and the faults of others, let go so you can open up to your own inner and outer worlds when you have the chance before you. And do it with your truest friend and staunchest supporter by your side.
You no longer believe in yourself or in the potential that life offered you. Instead of leaping, you retreated back to a safe distance from the edge, now never to experience that joyous, floating, drifting, falling, hand in hand with someone with whom you could explore the world and yourself, someone open, someone who, when you hit that net together, would be laughing with you from the deepest recesses of your shared spirits.
That’s what you chose.
And that’s why I’m not sure I believe in soulmates any longer.
But then again — it’s all a leap of faith.
