Wet Shore.

547f28c8a2dd2d87511187be3807f916-d5z6h2yI dreamed of it before…
it was a while ago, though;
I sat in whipping winds,
wrapped tightly within,
a blanket on a beach;
and I’m doused in gasoline…
I sit there almost alone,
but not quite by myself…
I sat on the sidelines next to somebody else,
as the sincerity in her mossy green,
eyes, capsized and captivated me,
as she played me music telepathically…
I began to realize something;
here, on the shores of a tumbling sea,
she hasn’t come to this place,
put out any fires I’d,
planned on lighting,
nor has she been sitting,
opposite of me – listening,
to the endlessly,
venomous spattering,
that define all of me…
no, she’s not here,
to clean up my mess tonight,
only to simply “be”;
on the shores of a tumbling,
promising ocean shimmering,
colors of me-her, blue-green;
as she plays me music,
and streams it directly into me,
reflexively,
unexpectedly,
the muscles all over my body,
begin to sag with ease,
exhaustion reigns supreme…
and I lean into,
the mental melody;
as the moment passes,
I recall the book of matches,
clutched in the hand of me,
as I think to strike one –
begins a new verse to her song,
the realization forcefully dawns,
upon my matches and gasoline…
she knows she won’t talk me down,
try,
try again,
in the end, nobody will win…
so in place,
of rearranging my face,
to rope me safely in,
she provided the gas,
clever kick in my ass,
but to her own detriment;
she hates the ocean,
hates the lack of control…
she knew my fire wouldn’t burn,
very long on the seashore.

March to April.

Take me to the ocean’s edge;

bury me there in your kisses,

so darkly lit at the corners,

the smoothness of your mouth…

the snapping linen of windy echoes;

Tell me your most hidden truths;

confide in me your every secret,

so sprinkled by shimmer,

the peach fuzz of my skin…

the slapping palms on my ass cheeks;

Read to me from your Book of Poems;

find me safety beneath the voice,

belonging to my Saline Ghost…

the Guardian of my ears and lungs;

Visit me when I sleep and dream;

teach me such righteous divinities,

by one likened to a premonition…

the breaking of a titanium chain-link;

Promise me that you will stay;

poised at my side like you are now,

so collected to balance my insanity,

the ease by which you forgive…

the ripping up of nails from a coffin’s lid;

Lie to me if it means forever;

bury me beneath what you so choose,

so vulnerable to your many strengths,

attentively absorbing you like a sponge…

the infusion of some good in my life.

Peace and Justice Award

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The Peace and Justice Award:
I have been awarded by the lovely “Die Trying”, a fellow Cut-Throat Club Survivor and resident clubhouse writer, with the Peace and Justice Award for my blog.
I must admit, I am not Batman; the driving force beneath this blog was not consciously fueled by such topics…however, it has come to my own attention through blogging here that the concepts of Justice and Peace are two that live very near to my heart from one moment to the next. This realization has shaken me a little – as I am a very simple creature: just trying to be and let be, just struggling to survive. I suppose my piece of Peace comes in the form of the void that is defined with nearly every post I make to my blog; the sense of injustice and robbery and stolen futures is undeniable and quite strong here. I guess I just find it difficult to get my head around the true concept of justice anymore, as what it’s meant to mean and stand for, at least. The injustice that has come to accompany every day’s sunrise weighs so heavily on my heart and mind that it’s hard to breathe around the anchor’s mass sometimes.
In regard to this award, I am just glad to know that, at least if nothing else – my perpetual search for justice has been noticed by someone. To me, such an award signifies a renewed hope of being heard by the people who hold authority over my existence as a mother – this award symbolizes a chance left for justice to be seen by Boo’s very own eyes. This award re-inspires me to carry on with my grueling task at hand.
What a surprisingly priceless side-effect of a very spirited blogger’s kind gesture! Again, thank you “Die Trying” for being such an inspiration from afar – you truly shine like the brightest star! ❤

 

My Nominees Are:

My Ace-Deuce of WordPress, of course – Miss Teela Hart

http://teelahart.com/a-very-special-thank-you/

 

My Co-Pilot in the mosh pit, Miss Sunny Sunshine

http://avictimsjournal.wordpress.com/

 

My “Kid Sister” of WordPress, Miss Inconsistently Yours

http://inconsistentlyyours.wordpress.com/

 

My one and only kindred, Miss Triple S

http://avalancheofthesoul.wordpress.com/

 

My “Fuel-Tanker” Army of Angels

http://armyofangels2013.wordpress.com/

 

Pass it on, girls! 🙂