color by number

"What color is the number 10?"

Is it orange? Or yellow? Perhaps blue or that odd hue of purple that is not quite right unless there is a setting sun falling low on the horizon? There are so many shades it could be, perhaps one day you will share them with me, but until then you sit there in your chair, holding them to your chest, making us guess as to the when, which, where and why. One day you will make me cry in defeat and make me repeat this absurd verse, therefore I will end, with this note to send: beware the days of summer as you sit upon the shores of life for there is no other time when one has the audacity to explore the times of bygone eras and the mistakes made by sages standing too long in the sun, for indeed is not the place for any sage beneath the shade of a tree watching the world pass by?

And so I pause and ask you: what does the color green smell like? What does the fruit see when it is hanging on the limb? What does the voice say about the hour of night? Can you find respite inherent in the folds of a summer day? Can you find a reply to questions that go unheard? Not fit for young ears to sleep until the dawning of time? And what will you tell the future generations of yesterday when they ask: what shade of gray is too white to be seen?

The future is now, the time has come and the days are growing faster than can be heard by those who are willing to listen.

life trees

through these trees

you will find

the doorway to my soul

the pulse to my life line

the essence of who I am

within these trees

i am home

and can finally

take a breath of life

ever lasting

through these trees

i am whole

no part is left behind me

i am all i need to be

held and standing

within their circle

mainstream mayhem

This afternoon I had the unfortunate experience of reacquainting myself with mainstream society. While my kids enjoyed The Simpsons On Demand and my husband enjoyed the wireless internet, I decided to peruse some of the magazines that were on the coffee table: National Geographic, TIME, The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, a very large brochure from the Harvard Forest and then a woman’s health magazine (the title of which I cannot remember).
I flipped through most of these, but it was this last one that I decided to take an in depth look at and as I was flipping through the articles I was thinking: Do women really want to know these things? Does it really matter how this celebrity likes to spend her time with her 9-month old son? Do women really need more low calorie low fat snack ideas? And what are you supposed to do with the 2/3 of a pear that you are not supposed to eat? And who the hell has the time to count out exactly 18 jelly beans?

And that’s when the real trauma sets in: the answer to all of the above is yes, otherwise these articles would not be printed, repeatedly, in several concurrent publications, and one of the women who would be interested in such things would be my mother. By the age of 8 I was expected to pack my own lunch from home, buying one from school was not an option and my mother did not have enough time in the morning to get ready for work and make a lunch for me, so the task was placed in my hands. However, there were rules to be followed. I was not allowed to take more than 10 potato chips each day. So, naturally, I always took 12 or 13, and when I was feeling really rebellious I’d take 15 chips, but never any more than that, and never two days in one week, because my mother would surely find out my deception and then there'd be hell to pay.

So, naturally, after browsing such articles this afternoon I am still fuming about the insanities of modern society as I sit in my kitchen sipping the last bottle of my irish stout, rather than getting a good night’s sleep like the rest of my family, and I still think that eating 1/3 of any piece of fruit is just fucking ridiculous!

dreaming

the observations to be obtained from dreams is not my forte.
i'm usually one of those skeptics that say, repeatedly, to dream interpreters, not everything you dream about has relevance to your life. it can be a great creative muse, it can allow you time to digest everything that has happened, but as for offering you direction, or showing you a new point of view on events ... meh, thus far it has not held true for me ... until this morning!

the interactions i have had with a former co-worker have become more and more uncomfortable. she greets me as if we were old friends, but the reality is that she told everyone in her life that i stole her job. when i saw her at pygmalion's on thursday afternoon, it really through my mind for a loop, especially the way she greeted me! i stood there in shock, my mind not able to focus back to my task, which was to ask the tat artist to take a quick look at the work he did on me, i just stood there like a deer caught in headlights for 20 minutes! until she was behind the curtain and then my mind came back to me - ugh! - i really need to work on protecting myself from these types of weirdness!

... back to the dream ... the road i am currently traveling is in need of repair. there are no longer screws strong enough to hold the boards in place. there are no longer boards of the proper width for me to travel forward on. if i am not careful with my next step i am going to put others in danger, not just myself.

and in the final scene: despite my need to rescue any and all friends from danger, sometimes it's better to let them stay where they are because the road they need to travel is too full of confrontation for even me to deal with!

so, hooray! for dream interpretations!
(of course, since i do not actually read up on the meaning of dreams, perhaps i messed up the messages that were being sent by the images i saw, but for an amateur, the above is not too shabby!)

candies that care

Dear Mr. Feelings,
I heard you're making caring candies these days. How's that working out for you? Are you able to satisfy their needs and make a profit? Or do you just look them in the eye and lie to them blind like the rest of the world?
I hope that all works out for you cuz the world needs another dumb ass.
Sincerely yours,
a bitch who cares

between phases

i stand between
the sun and the moon
feeling the rays of life
bleed through me
towards the cold
sterility of death
there is nothing
so precious
to be held within
your heart
your soul
running through
your veins
dripping down
your face
as tears of ecstasy fall
time and time again

hidden waters

“It’s better to hide completely within
as water hides in metal, as fire hides in rock.” ~Rumi ~


emotions bury deep
take you down to the core
of where you want to be
of who you want to be
events become crystal
clearly seen for the first time
dawning into the age of reason
from whence the age of necessity
breeds the days of our youth remembered
breeds the days of our time honored
to bring with it logic
outdated and time honored
no matter what the cost

water hides from metal
slides across the valleys of the hills and dales
across the weathered rock and sand
across the ones in high demand
weary travelers lost in memories
wandering round the leaves
forever changed in enmity and in grace
shadowed thoughts reak havoc
among the soul
until their lives can be told
relinquishing their needs to be outmoded and redefined
within the graces of time

sometimes it is better to bury within
keep your mind free from sin
all untold the futures seek
answering questions to bold to weep
fear not the mortal coil of deceit
for you are a time honored retreat
in darkness and in light
you will find the source
you will find the soul
held within the rays
of the one who made you whole
defeat is no longer found
in this space of hallowed ground
deliverance from evil may require
entirely new attires of the heart
to be worn without a care
within the greatest of care
wandering round this sacred ground

beneath these layers of time
once must refine
the time honored days
within the space of stays
erasing what was known
for what could be
looking within to discover
every possibility
adhere to notions of existence
within your time of remittance
a new day is dawning from within
never again will you be thought to sin
always wandering true to spirits
holding space with a lover’s eye
wandering towards answering
the question of why?