Monday, June 29, 2009

The Difference

There's a ton to cover. Right now.
from weeks ago.
this is taken from my journal.(a new one)


the boys and i are listening to Percy Sledge
watching the lightening play
and the rain fall over the mountains, from the sun room.

its around 8:00 pm, we are in awe of the magnificence
we are a part of.

its breathtaking.

lights off.

some of the clouds, look like dinosaurs. (puffy)

foreboding.

the air is off, the breeze is perfect.

i feel so delicate today.
the magic that has been created.
could not ever be duplicated.
(no curtain call)

this performance was a one nighter.

sold out.

i want to tell you, so hear me out.
when i asked you what you would do with a dreadful amount of money,
your answer, was as vanilla as i expected.


you didn't ask for anything elaborate,
and I was honestly disgusted.

knowing my love affair with words,
i long to be admired,
in a way a child touches the skin of a salamander.
its new.
it something that hasn't been experienced.

and to insult me further,
you act as if i do not have a plan.
wrong.

i am carefully calculated.

i am one to be watched.

most steps, have thought,
with such weight,
its alarming.

listen dear,

(living in the past, right here)

I think of the words in our conversation, Sue.
"this is what your next wedding should look like."

maybe it will.

does it matter i shake and break
(not shake and bake)
@ the thought of committing once more?

(come on Pink Floyd)
where have all the good times gone?
who's gonna show this stranger around?

right before dark, the boys and i picked flowers.

the boys?

wait patiently like a Southern Belle on her chaise,
waiting for a mimosa.

listen again, dearest.

things are happening.
and changing.

have you noticed the color of my heart lately?
i would ask Holli, but she isnt here.
(i swear, she sees our aura's.)

it's almost lavender.

why lavender?

not quite blue,and no longer cold.
rather, blooming.
awaiting the chilly spring mornings,
and soaking up the warm afternoon sun.

is love money in the hand?
hardly.

just as silly to think all girl's love roses.

some love daisies.
some love orchids.
some love violets.
blue amaryllis.

as ridiculous to believe a person
who claims to adore John Lennon, a person
who claims to love his message.
is the same person, who goes to bed with a fat belly,
and a sense of pride that shadows their ignorance.
this person, who despises her partner,
but has the gall to say,
All You Need Is Love.

I am as naive as a schoolgirl, and my teacher, is staring at my knees.
daring my skirt to raise.

there are times, i play the role of the teacher.
wanting
your skirt to raise,
just a touch higher.

there are times, i am a scent, lingering on your clothes.

in a blink of an eye,
i could be the thought that ignites
passion & awe. I wonder.

always be quiet and listen.
let others tell their secrets,
shed light as bright as the sun.
hold your flashlight,
under your coat.
stand ready.
conserve your batteries.

i wasn't wrong.
i had to wait till after Easter.
look at all the good things,
my attitude for starters.

you may not need passion, like i do.
i don't mean, hot, stick it in me passion.
(what a shame, if you haven't ever heard these words, hot on your ear.)
i mean, absolute drive.
that isn't bought.
(expectations, dear. high.)
it isn't lovingly put together,by crude instruction.
passion flows. passion stirs.
you can tell a lot by a man, through his handshake.
how many lovers, he lamely tried to please.
how cold his kiss would be on your mouth.
passion pushes you farther, people admire it.

when you barely acknowledge it,
that's when you now, you provide it,
cause it, you are it. unaware.

passion is the curve of someones face, and you long to see the rest of it.

passion is what keeps you awake at night,
and it keeps you up, just so you can
satiate it.

(compulsion, is completely different.)

passion is what i reach for, the shoulder, i am trying to grab.
as if sitting on the bottom of the cold mountain river.
you can see it,
but you may not be able to tell how deep the water is.
our eyes, refuse to adjust.

we reach, and reach, never to touch.

unless i start swimming.
so yes, i need it.

passion to eat well, treat myself well, to present myself in a way,
that i work through a blaze of emotion that shades my face.
the tickle, that glides up my back.
that allows me to shine.
i need the passion
to show the world
who i want to be.

1 comment:

  1. You just live to be a walking contridiction, don't you?

    ReplyDelete