Mes Memoires

"Where are you taking me? It's incredibly dark." She continued to venture through the abyss unknowing of her direction, unknowing of the end result. There was no answer because no one was there with her. She had only her heartbeat and the sound of her feet touching the ground. As each foot stepped swiftly against the floor, her heartbeat increased, her breath quickened, until she began to run. She ran for her life as if something was chasing her! She ran and ran and ran and ran until she collapsed, out of breath. "I see a light". A mirage is easily conjured in moments like this, when fear is so strong that hope proceeds to project illusions. There she was, lying against a wall. Her hair was matted with sweat. Her feet were sore from the chase. Her palms were sweaty with fear. "Get me out of this! Get me out of this dream! I implore you! Get me out of here!" As if by magic, she found herself lying in a meadow filled with sunflowers glowing and tall as t...

I wrote this August 2012: These waves are like shelves. When they break against the shore. Their books fall by the wayside. Here they are, floating back to sea See you and me in the waves? We are free as we will ever be.  Dancing in the rain without hostility. Accepting the truth, each droplet Each droplet a seed to spend The moon's love The sun's heart The earth's soul Each droplet a seed to spend No matter how it dispenses No matter what tense We're living in.  See you and me in the waves? We're floating through time and space. Nibbling our bodies, the creatures Take each bite with grace No matter how it dispenses No matter what tense We're living in the present ------ Little girl. This little girl she awoke with trepidation. Her frightened outlook hindered her ability to perform everyday activities. When she went to work, when she went to the store, when she hung out with friends, they said, "Are ...

Typed Where would I be without your poetic closings? Delete, delete, delete. Where would I be without your ear-- That listens so intently through the shrillness? I trust it is the truth-- Floating in the liminal. I reach out to him--to you Yet cannot speak a word of it. In the imaginal, you are there. Backspace, backspace, backspace. In a dream--unabridged Obscured when the light writhes in. I question the happenings the intensity and gatherings --la coeur de lion Return, return, return. Wistful An epistolary exchange Highlights my ever waking day. And sends me into reverie Musings of wholeness, conviviality-- When held as comfortably as can be. Betwixt then, now, and futurity Unknown the heart's capacities. To draw him near to me Fashioned and foolhardy fantasies. And yet I cannot let it leave