Plaster Hand.

I have this plaster hand…
Likened to yours;
Hanging above the kitchen door…
The one we made so long ago…
On Christmas Eve Day, just bored…
I have a poem written…
By your tiny hand;
As tiny as the one that hangs…
Above the kitchen door frame…
It says “Mommy I Love You”…
And the Gods help me…
If when I pass it by, I don’t hear the words…
In a sigh, a whispering…
I keep a tiny, silver jewelry box…
The one you saved up for;
Inscribed across the dusty top …
Is chiseled in, beautifully:
“I Love You Mommy”…
And Mommy dies a little more…
I have all these haunting memories…
Of having future plans;
Fulfilling hopes and dreams…
Just you and I surviving…
Getting back up to stand…
I saved these Christmas things…
Yours and mine;
Stored away like a box to mourn…
Every year, when it’s opened again…
And looks the same…
As the years before…
I held on to your special ornaments…
All of them;
Though I never hang them high…
I never get a tree anymore…
I see no reason why…
But I keep these things…
To remind myself…
Of the twinkle lost to my eye…
I held on to so many things…
Of yours;
Desperately trying…
To keep you somehow, near…
Closer at least…
Than wherever you are…
I have this little butterfly wing…
You brought home;
You flew it behind you like a kite…
A colorful ghost that chased you…
Right out of second grade…
I find these notes you wrote…
To me; To Mommy;
They read your apologies…
For spilling toothpaste on the rug…
And I want to come find you wherever you are…
And tell you that rug never mattered to me.

Area Locals.

And…they’re all against me…

Okay, not really; but each animal encountered thus far has proven ornery in his or her unique way.

  1. I was nearly stampeded by a disturbingly stealthy sounder of wild boar in a clearing (where there was fire going) at like 5:30am; after some initial screaming and table climbing, my (much more outdoorsy) relatives came and essentially shooed the lot of them through our camp.hogs
  2. The local bird situation: We all know how I feel about birds…but I realize that I am in their’ territory so it’s not been too bad, all things considered. There is a woodpecker however, who insists on pecking away at the acorn tree right over MY head for hours on end, which is super annoying at first but you learn to tune it out. Acorn WoodpeckerAnd there are the California Condors, who fly overhead because they have a preserve at the Pinnacles; I had no idea how fucking ugly those things are in the face, wow…condor pinns
  3. A few Grey Foxes have been scampering and playing in the distance, one is much more curious about our camp than his mates.greyfox
  4. There are big cats all over the place – Mountain Lions and Bobcats, at least…and they have evolved into very ballsy beasts that fear no human. The curiosity trait supposedly akin to all cats is definitely present in the wild cats in this area; they keep you on your toes at all times.bobcatMountain Lion
  5. THE OLD SAYING “They are more afraid of you than you’re afraid of them.” DOES NOT STAND HERE.

In short, the local wildlife is engaging enough in collective behavior to render any trip out here to “relax” totally out of the question, which is fine with me – I have ADHD and PTSD so relaxing is an elusive idea to me under any circumstances.

 

 

 

Penny-pinching.

Ah, the insatiable façade…
of government organization,
charged with the ongoing care,
of a child’s “protection”,
and look at the job they’ve done!
Producing mass demoralization,
burning without consideration,
crushing and burying memories,
fueling the hatred inside of me,
thriving within the destruction,
so many of my moments: stolen,
spiritually drowned and chopfallen,
hiding like cowards behind,
the safe-guarded legal confines,
professional rape of the mind,
is defined in some subsection,
of a somehow “acceptable”,
and despicably procedural,
forced systematic separation,
court-enforced parental,
very public lynching,
then perpetual alienation,
stealing and penny-pinching,
and completely legal,
purely conjectural,
the picture in full,
strikes the eye as odd,
an agency playing God,
motivated by sheer evil,
operated hypocritically,
signed in disappearing ink,
no control,
no cause for hope,
down with this agency!
Else soon enough,
they’ll own all of us,
in with the afflicted,
contradicted,
and doomed, too,
no light gets through,
tried and convicted,
by a government’s rule,
backed by ignorant fools,
cracked heads affected,
from such a shallow gene pool.

Out There.

Out there,
there’s no fear
I steer far beyond
the burning fire song
that sings
and screams from
each heave of my lungs
until the burn is gone
and my face is numb
when I come up
and I can’t see anyone
out there,
there’s no horizon
no lingering tension
I can do whatever
the moment says
I need to get done
there in the blue
there’s no such thing
as “me and you”
or any of the pain
attached onto
branded into
the guilt and shame
can’t quite get through
the protective layer
of my trusty wet-suit
out there – blue and pure
in the saline fathoms
of my darkest despair,
a glimpse of what’s free
nothing’s promised
in sheer mockery
nothing’s expected
either by or from me
out there, anywhere
this one buzz in my ear
tows alongside
remains ever-clear
my inbound ride
will forever be
the hardest part
of “Out There” for me.

Dreaming in the Color Blue.

I’ve been a bad girl, haven’t I?
not really though –
I’m afraid,
it’s all in your mind…
the come, the go –
made unmade,
just side-steps in time…
when did the bridge begin to smolder?
I didn’t know –
pre-occupied,
a cheek turned to the shoulder…
the highs, the lows –
de-mesmerized,
turn the cold season colder…
In which direction did the gallops go?
stampeding through –
heart is filleted,
opened seam, for you…
the yes, the no –
nocturnal dread,
dreaming in the color blue…
forbade be me by my own spirit?
a shame to know –
over-analyzed,
too loud for you to hear it…
the quick, the slow –
self-sold and bought lies,
to become truth because you fear it.

Missile-Toed.

missile1As intriguing as the concept of quantum String Theory has always been to my hungry brain, I admit that the principles behind it mean little to me.
Space, in all of its profound glory, has remained much the same throughout life for me: The science-fictionesque backdrop belonging on Star Trek, a mystical and elusive place relative to scientific calculations and mathematical equations that I will NEVER understand in the slightest, creatures that do not look nor behave the way that our own species does (due to some bio-genetic adaptation needed to survive in the vacuum), and an underlying sense of feelings very close to unease and discomfort.
I went to see The Empire Strikes Back in the theater with my Dad, brothers and Papa when it first came out…I was awed and amazed by the various species included – and, it was sometime around then that I became infatuated with finding and kidnapping my own Ewok. The first time I saw 2010 Odyssey, I didn’t sleep for nights afterward…it was upsetting and unfamiliar all the way around. Since those early and wondrous days of life, I have become a “Sky-Watcher”. I am not the type of sky-watcher who owns a high-end telescope or anything fancy like that though; I am simply an observer who cannot keep my eyes from the night skies anytime I am beneath them. I have self-taught myself about the star systems and the solar system on a very generalized scale in order to understand things best I can; and, have grown up to grasp a very basic understanding of the “final frontier”.
In all of my years keeping watch on the stars that twinkle overhead while I smoke outside (usually with a good portion of my attentions directed only at the sky), I have only seen two incidents that I was not able to a sound scientific explanation for, afterward. The first time was two summers ago, towards the end of the season, when I was stricken by a very colorful strobe flashing from high the Easterly sky – very far away and high above any aircraft that passed while I watched. This strobe emitted four very distinctive colored lights in sequence of red – orange- green – blue repeatedly and seemed to be moving in an unnatural way. When I say “moving”, what I mean is that this “star” appeared to be centered on a bungee string that was being pulled from both ends on either side of it creating sorts of very rapid but short jolting motions, while staying mostly in the same general vicinity. I freaked out and called my former roommate to see, by whom my perception was re-affirmed and seconded. I never was able to find any reasonable answer for what we saw that night; although, NASA’s official reply to my inquiry (and I shit you not) was that it is an anomaly known as a “fireball”. As if such a label should have out all of worries to rest, somehow…
The second thing…the much more disturbing and unsettling thing I have witnessed happened last night, as I was walking to my car from my house. I saw in my peripheral, a large streak of what I assumed was cloud cover daubing the sky just to the south of me; but the size and general shape of it caused my brain to need a better a look. The instant that I shifted my full focus onto the streak, it was set ablaze with the brightest and most concentrated light I have ever seen in my entire life; the streak of what I had taken to be clouds suddenly became bathed in this luminous glow, and was connected directly to something that was silently streaming upward in a massive arc. I watched with my mouth dropped open as this cylinder of pure light/smoke/cloud/dust grew longer as the attached object made its trajectory, before it eventually positioned itself in line with the lower and twinkling stars midst the cloud cover. I stood there and watched it; it didn’t explode, it didn’t fall down, it just hung there like some far-future science project:

“Now, here’s how you hang your very own star in the sky, children…”

The shit was skin-chilling. I shrugged and got in my car to go to the store then. When I got out onto the street, everyone was pulled over to the sides of the road as if we had just been hit by an earthquake or something.
This morning, NASA is hard at work with the “California Missile Testing” story; something that they claim is a totally normal and common happenstance here around the valley. My question is: if it’s such a regular occurrence and it happens so often, why did it make any Californian who saw it pee themselves?

The Struggle.

All that is happening now does, indeed, go back to the incident in Arizona. The surgeries that she has already undergone and recovered from have each been in attempt to separate scar tissue that has grown around Boo’s trachea from being cinched by a belt for nearly two days; also – her inability to speak has finally been de-mystified as well. The same thing is happening at the base of her vocal chords, as a result of scar tissue build-up, only the vocal cords have been permanently affected by residues left from the chemicals that Boo had been forced to drink during her captivity. The doctors have done what they can without sending her to a specialist for what is considered as “delicate surgery”; the next step to come.
Within the month, she will be going to Stanford for such things…and I have little doubt behind her strength or ability to deal with it. She remains in care still – a milestone in and of itself; she is bored beyond description, covered in bed sores, and must be feeling pretty low…yet, she hasn’t left again. Her little boyfriend (the one who do not necessarily like so much but cannot deny his humanity in comparison to the other men she has surrounded herself with in the past) comes to visit her now; I know that makes her feel like the world isn’t ending, after all. Anything that helps her to stay put and ride out the road ahead through her physical recovery – I am on board with it.
She has grown up so much…in such a short time…she is so jaded and darkened by her own experiences, that I watch her struggle with simply being cared for by another human being…it’s rough. But she’s letting it happen – as hard as it may be on her.

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