Without change we would be loose
Without change we would be naked and afraid.
Without change we would be stale mate and stagnant.
Without change we would be void of unicorns and Sasquatch.
Without change we would be zero grit and our lungs full of sand.
Without change we would only eat cheese enveloped by cardboard.
Without change we would be hiding behind signs directing their paths.
Never seen as one.
Without change we would be lack of braille , no longer able to see.
Without change we would be last in line as our wheels or lack of chromosome take us there.
Without change we would be haunted by division. Separation.
Without change we would be lacking control of our bodies and mind.
Without change we would be without a future.
Jasmine licked the minty concoction lining the inside of the envelope several times before it would stick. It was hard for her to see by the flickering gold candlelight but she grabbed a blue Parker from her overnight bag and began writing her new address on the outside of her undelivered mail. As she wrote 1111 Sycamore she glanced out the window to see two dead trees swaying their naked branches in the wind. And thought that the street name must have been derived from those two specifically since there were no others to be found like them on her new street.
She felt at home already as she inhaled the comforting aroma of frankincense, escaping their triangular wax shaped capsules, releasing clouds of caged smoke into the foyer of Jasmine’s new first home. It would be days before she would be able to turn on the electric. She was still waiting on her child support check to be deposited and was living off literally her last bit of change. Mostly aged silver dollars, wheat pennies and a few dusty $2 bills her grandpa had left behind in the old house. She still couldn’t believe he had willed it to her when he abruptly passed on only weeks prior. They hadn’t spoke in several years, maybe in decades but somehow he thought to leave it to her and not to his own son. She couldn’t help but wonder why he left it to her, his granddaughter and not his only son. But then again her dad wasn’t exactly the best son a father could have hoped for, he had been in prison for the last two decades for a wicked murder. She had inadvertently inherited his bad blood and often wondered if she too would commit such crimes only by default. But she knew she could never fathom such and would remain an innocent. She pondered the intrusive thoughts often but would quickly erase such unwanted intrusions from her mind. She looked out her foyer window once more at the little light on the porch. A battery operated stick on device she had bought while grocery shopping for non- perishables recently at the local Piggly Wiggly. Her trip hadn’t been necessary however since her friends and loved ones had come to visit her over the past few days to offer comforts of an abundance of food and predictable, yet delightful, greeting cards as a condolence to her recent loss. She was beyond thankful for their thoughtfulness but mostly importantly for the little yellow house that her grandpa had left behind.
Boots On The Dash
" The heat is on". She sang at the top of her lungs driving down the road, top down, the candy apple exterior gleaming in the sun light as her hair's golden strands whipped against her face,mostly sticking to her freshly glossed lips. She was off work for an entire week and on her way to a far off much needed destination. She could already smell the coconut oil and taste the fragrant fruity chill of a Mai tai. The thought made her press the gas pedal that much harder. She was eager to relax in the sand and stay up till midnight doing nothing but relaxing after a long night of salsa dancing.
The phone began to rang. She put it on vibrate and ignored it. She needed this trip more than ever before and she didn't want anyone bothering her during this time of solitude. As she sang along once more to the top 100-80's one hit wonders on her jeeps radio, she couldn't help but feel a little free, and she wanted more than anything to get past all the tragic events that had recently occurred over the past few months. Murphy's law had set up camp at her house but not anymore. All of that was a distant memory and she was ready to put it behind her and get on with her new life. But as plans sometimes can go wrong in life, this day was no exception. It seemed her car was over heating. "
"Oh, isn't this just perfect!!" She pulled over on the side of the long windy road she had been driving on for what seemed like hours. She kicked the jeeps tires and picked up her phone and of course it was dead. She sat there in her jeep, her boots on the dash and sundress pulled up enough to expose her pale white legs. She could use a tan anyways she thought and laughed about how much time she spent in her little cubicle. Then suddenly got a little sad thinking about the tragic past few months. But she wiped that out of her thoughts quite quickly when she noticed a blue Dodge Pick up Truck slowly come up behind her.
He tilted his cowboy hat and his tanned biceps tightened up as he lifted up the hood of her jeep.
"Mam" he looked at her and winked. "Where you headed out here all alone-being a pretty young lady and all?"
She found herself overheating as much as her jeep all of a sudden. She wondered where He came from and where she was at.
" I'm not sure exactly where I'm headed-just on a long drive I guess. she found herself nervously twisting her hair around her finger.
" Well hun. I think this baby needs some working on". It looks like your going to be stuck in our neck of the woods tonight. He jumped down and offered his hand.
It was then that she suddenly realized she wasn't in Kansas anymore and that was alright. Sometimes the most unexpected things in life are unplanned. And she headed off into the sunset with her new cowboy in hand.
That’s a wrap
-what does my mind look like? -
Like bubble gum wrapper
Pink foil. Sometimes silver crinkled up in a ball wedged between a worn out knock off Prada wallet and an antique mirror I found at a play ground under a see-saw of all things. Much like my life I suppose. Full of ups and down. It was caked in mud when I found it but what a treasure it was once submerged in a cascade of bubbly waters.
Like a a brand new pair of white canvas shoes. Often blemished with bits of slate & earth by days end. Laces intertwined with a combo of allergy infused weeds & shards of emerald. I sneeze as I bend down to tie another loose end. They leave a blister but I cover it quickly with a band aid and snap a selfie to show off my new abrasion and the new shoes of course.
Like a hardback novel. One that you place stacked neatly on top of three other unread books. They look like perfection, bindings uncreased, pages crips. Still smell like Arial ink right off the press. Suitable for displaying a bouquet of hand picked lilies and or placing a steaming mug of chamomile before bedtime upon. You do plan to read them someday. But right now ....
Like a blockbuster movie. An A lister. One to be watched. One full of suspense. Romance. Everything you need for a night of hand holding, cuddling, kissing and buttered popcorn. But once the credits run you fall into a deep slumber.
Like a Volvo. Smooth. Refined. Catches the eye but not quite as effective as let’s say a G wagon or Audi R8. But nice enough that you command reliability. Comfort. And are quite dependable. Loyal.
You are the reason
3 reasons to not kill myself
1- I am a survivor of domestic abuse. And I made it through a battle that I didn’t think anyone could have fought through and won. But I never stopped believing that no matter how hard life knocked me down I was capable of getting back up again. And would do it repeatedly if necessary and I did. Over and over. I’m unstoppable. So are you.
2- You. Yes you. I know that my purpose is to not only to live each day with gratitude & goals. But it’s mostly to help others. Whether it’s a hello to a perfect stranger. Or a meaningful compliment, maybe even a hug. But I know that our paths cross for a reason. I know that in that one moment my words or touch could have been at best life changing.
3- As a testimony. Life hasn’t been easy. And I have tackled more than most I personally know. So knowing this. I can share with all my battle scars. And give people hope. That if I can climb up from ground zero you can too.
( rhythm poem - teeth)
We all have teeth
Some are white
Some are blue
But never are there just two
Maybe one. Maybe three
Maybe eleven for you to see
A pearl or a kernel
Is how they look to some
But you smile anyways
Just for fun
A piece of lettuce
Wedged in between
Revealing bits of green
A brush or pic
To remove debri
Your teeth reveal
For all to see
A check up here
A check up there
Your dentist knows you
To keep your teeth
At best and fair
To chew up gum
And candy Apple bliss
To purse Behind your kissable lips
Covered in crimson
A glossy shiny hue
Essential they are
As are you
You make them last
Until you are through
With life as you know it
You don’t want to blow it
But you will for your teeth
Gleaming and neat
A smile worthy
Of a million repeats
You will always
Take care of your
Pretty white teeth
He looked at her with an intensity so profound it incapsulated her soul and made time stand still.
Her eyes began to tear up as she looked up at him, afraid to let him see her vulnerable side, she quickly looked down. But he wouldn’t dare let her release from his intoxicating gaze. He lightly grasped her chin up towards his face and slowly wiped every single tear that had rolled onto her plump crimson cheeks, then proceeded to slowly kiss her eyes, as they closed in response to each lingering press of his loving lips, working his way towards her nose and then to her beautiful ruby red lips. She was so afraid to lean into him with such desirable intensity, to kiss him back would release her inner emotions and bring forth her weakened soul. But her walls began to slowly crumble as he took her into his arms, holding and never letting go, as he engaged her into a deep passionate kiss, one that seemed to last into the depths of eternity. He whispered time and time again for her to not be afraid but as much as she wanted to believe him her heart was still fragile and she was in fact quite fearful of it being shattered once more. But she had to admit that he was unlike any man she has ever met before. In fact he seemed spiritual in essence. As if God made him just for her. She felt at ease, cherished, and loved for the first in her entire life. What she once thought had been love had only been a mere facade. She was never one of those type to believe in love at first site. But she felt his profound love from day one. As if they were old souls reuniting from a distant past. Soul mates came to her mind immediately and she was not alone in her thinking for her new knight in shining armor felt the same. There was no explanation for their immediate magnetic attraction towards one another. Besides their propensity to share the same fondness of one another’s attractive attributes and their mutual fantasy of a pleasurable future full of intense, almost magical love and ethereal experiences.
She fell in love with his humor. His ginger beard. His lips that kissed her and took her into other far off dimensions but mostly it was his eager hunger towards protecting her and leading her into his inner being as one. And although new into their relationship he felt at ease and with the most of confidence that she was the one. And that one day she would share his last name. Because he couldn’t imagine anyone else. He had enough heartbreak to last a life time and although he would always have feelings towards those in his past, he realized, this girl with the raven locks, emerald eyes and heart of gold would be his forever girl, his person. And he did not question for one second this longing to have her, always by his side. There was no mistaking that something or someone had a bigger hand in their fate.
Their being brought together was fairytale like. In that a thousand life times had past before meeting one another and the day had finally arrived for their worlds collided with the intensity of a thousand horses, electrifying, and blind siding them both. Each afraid in their own right but willing to take a chance on love once more because this time there was a decadent sense of delicious comfort that both could not in fact deny, something they were missing with former lovers and they both knew from that day forward that they would be inseparable. They knew it would not necessarily always be easy. They knew they both had traveled through glass, stone, fire and hell to finally come to this point in their lives. Carrying the weight of the world, deep pain, burdens, losses, betrayal, dark sleepless nights and broken hearts. But despite their hardships and hard knocks they both knew they would be able to fight through any storms that might come their way. The good. The bad. All of life and it’s various pleasures and displeasures. They knew that any battle they faced would be done in love together. And that they would always and forever be right by one another’s sides unconditionally. Some would call them fools for rushing in at such an extraordinary speed. But they both knew their new love was exceptional, unclassifiable and quite remarkable. They held onto one another with the most endearing love, a love they both could have never fathomed until their hearts engaged in this life time and into eternal bliss from that moment and on.
Love her madly
On this day I arise from a poetic slumber, only to find myself looking through a cracked window, as saffron birds frolick against a crisp autumn sunrise. They tweet, chirp and flap their wings with decadence and splendor. While I stand disgusted at the somber reflection staring back at me. I quickly try to unsee the figure before me. I back away slowly and rub remnants of sleepy from one green halo at a time, until finally focused. But still....I loathe the distraction I see reflecting back at me.
I stand with my feet firmly planted in purple fuzzy slippers. Careful to not touch the unforgiving frozen squares of mint green tile below me. I am in firing line of a smudged mirror, connected to a white porcelain bowl. Its cracks mended together by leopard print duct tape. In a comatose state I brush one pearly bit of enamel at a time. I pick at a crack in my canine. And fight the urge to seal it with cement. It’s self sabotage at its finest. I spit the blue foamy concoction out of my mouth and watch it swirl, first left - then right, as it slithers itself into a black hole of oblivion. I wipe each corner of my pasty mouth with a Dollar Store towel. I notice It feels like sandpaper. Nevertheless I walk away from the battle grounds and into my makeshift vanity where I sink into my broken marketplace chair. -The one with the splintered arm, no thanks to my expanding figure. I thank it however for still standing. I wiggle to get comfortable and slowly start my transformation. I scrape out remninets of beige and ivory from various plastic tubes. An electric surge penetrates through each brush stroke and I slowly start to come back to life. No longer a zombie. Although I need not forget we are in the midst of an apocalypse. I sip on my steamy Maxwell as it indiscriminately scolds my twisted tongue still slightly stained a sky blue. I shout out profanity and Miss Jingles scampers down the vacant hall, her paws echoing against unswept floors, dodging dust bunnies no less.
I sigh. Another repeat of yet another ordinary day. I crave touch. And the feeling of desire. A kiss maybe to the forehead would be nice. ....lips even better. I find myself resisting temptation to ever so slightly self blame, navel gaze and destroy. And quickly remind myself I am the daughter of the most high God and that this too shall eventually... pass. I should feel like I a Queen. ....Why do I not? I ask myself as I look at a dark oasis of blues and purples under sleep deprived delusional vision. My life is a cautionary tale at best. I find myself at battle more often than not. I slay retched thoughts with silver bullets while they lie captive to a blanket of onyx on typical shiver inducing November Day.
And these are the not so glamorous days of my life. Has it come to this? Will I ever love her? This girl that mirrors back with ebony locks, flushed crimson cheeks and fluffy thighs. I proceed. I glance back at her and wave goodbye. I refuse to fall into a trap of darkness and self critical beatings. Just because he said you will never be worthy. Just because he said you are disgustingly fat. Just because he took, like that of a thief, does not mean it is the truth. It’s far from it actually. He was wrong -I remind myself despite the stringent string of unforgettable memories.
I am and always will be a masterpiece. I am and always will be beautiful. I am and always will be strong. A fighter and a child of God. I repeat it again and again until I believe it.
I walk alway from the splintered chair still standing. I strut with confidence and roar like a lioness as I step into patent stilettos, spanks and form fitting attire, most appropriate for a day meant for hard earned pay. This is my revolution. I will revel in accomplishments, success and freedom. And end it with a wash of coconut bubbles and cognac wine or champagne? I will celebrate. I will feel grace. I will feel self worth once again. And I will fall into dream land alone at twilight. . And know that it’s okay. ......I will rise the next day to an opulent horizon of turquoise and bits of yellow. I will sit a bit lighter. And reflect a sparkle this time. I will shed tears. Blood. And all fears behind. I will learn with each passing day to love her all over again. Madly.
Molly pulled up her 3x pants, one hop into a leg of her Capri stretch pants, at a time. The struggle was real and she didn’t have time for that. She was already running quite a bit late and could see the sun rising through the slightly opened plantation blinds in front of her. She had only five minutes to be out the door and she knew it would take at least that long to finish putting the wretched pants on she had bought recently at a New Years Fitness Sale. Her resolutions were going to be met and she was already proud to say that the main one was to lose 30 pounds within the first 30 days of the new year and here it was 2 weeks in and thanks to her trusty too tight pants, she was half way there. However she knew if she didn’t keep up the grueling hour long power workouts each morning before going to work, each and every single day, as well as keep her calories under 1000, she would risk the possibility of not meeting her goals and she was in a panic at the mere thought of being late or worse yet missing her beloved class all together.
“ Damn it to absolute heck!” She bit her tongue trying to not curse one seemingly bad word. People often said she could out curse a sailor. So she decided to stop cursing so much as one of her resolutions. A habit she had picked up from her older brother growing up, a professional criminal with a dirty mouth. It wasn’t like she had parents to raise her, they had died when she was nine in a car wreck so her drug addict brother took over in raising her but only for a short while. He had been sentenced to a life in prison after supposedly murdering a guy he owed money to that he denies he committed. She missed him terribly. Despite his drug habit and unpleasant grammar he had been a great brother to her. She actually was one of few that believed he was indeed innocent. It was a shame the system took him from her, leaving her an orphan. They placed her-immediately into an emergency shelter and then onto one foster home after another. Finally her Aunt Sharla from Beaumont got word that she was in need of a place to call home and took her in and raised her through out most of her teen years and up until it was time for her to go to college.
“ I just can’t believe I’m running behind!” She jumped into the other pant leg pulling them up to her waste. She could feel sweet beads forming on her forehead, her golden locks albeit in a ponytail had worked their way into a sticky wad against her neck. She wiped the fresh perspiration off her rosy plump cheeks and began to take a couple of deep breaths like her therapist had told her to do every-time she felt the slightest of anxiety attacks coming on. “ Gawd, now for the stupid shoes. -Worst part!” She grabbed her new pair of athletic shoes. The one and only thing she paid full price for in her arsenal of fit attire and began to lace them on with one shallow breath a time. Bending over was the hardest when you had a gut the size of the stay puffed marshmallow, wedged between you and your little feet. She felt accomplished when she finally finished placing the fluorescent greens and blues to her feet. She took one glance at the snug digital Apple on her wrist and realized she had literally one second to head out the door, otherwise she would not make it in time. She wanted to be in the front of the class so she could get the most out of it and she didn’t even care that some of the younger more fit girls gawked at her with disgust, along with muttered comments about her size. She looked in the mirror with triumph and determination and would one day be teaching that class so she wasn’t going to let them keep her from winning. She was going to lose this weight within one year and was not going to let anyone stop her. Even if it meant driving 10 over the speed limit which she planned to do this morning in order to make it on time. And with her keys in hand she raced to her ruby red Crossover parked under her aunts prized sycamore tree and took off as the sun began to rise up along with her.
I Awoke The Day I Died
I sat lackadaisically with my now numb derrière hanging off one of the few remaining blue plastic seats that were left, sipping on cold stale coffee as I attempted to rub my blood shot eyes out of their somnolent state. I was anticipating my cell phone’s alarm to sound it’s deafening tone any second, which was that of an old squeaky bike horn, the only thing that I knew would awaken me from my severely comatose stance, albeit necessary so I wouldn’t miss my anticipated train ride that would be here any second I hoped. I had come to the realization that I wasn’t the only one in the room obsessing over some sort of time piece. We all were patiently waiting for our ride to come. And it couldn’t come soon enough as far as I was concerned.
I glanced through out the crowded room. It’s gloomy foyer with the dimly lit green hues cast by flickering fluorescent lights washed everyone out, making us look like we belonged in a 1970’s Zombie Apocalypse film. It was long before my eyes fixated on a little somber like man standing in a corner all alone. His gray wispy hair, a silky combover frolicking about with each touch of the wind from the air vents above him. He seemed cold and out of sorts. His arms folded against his chest. His eyes spaced out and black like coals. His orange parka and khaki pants seemed fitting for a rainy day but it was the middle of August. The sun was blazing hot and the humidity created discomfort as it did not discriminate any one person as it laced its wet substance above our lips, brows and lower backs. We all seemed to glisten like tensile being hung the night before Christmas.
I found out later the old mans name was Jed. He handled his pocket watch with adoration. And seemed to stare at its tarnished exterior as if it would be his last time to see it in existence. I would have never known about Jed, had Audrey not told me about him. Another one of many that were also waiting to be picked up. Hours seemed to go by and yet none of us had seen any sight of the old black steam train anywhere. We were begging to wonder if it would ever arrive. Audrey has been glancing at her gold Rolex at least every half hour. She was beginning to get antsy as she paced back and forth, her mono blaunks clinking against ceramic tile , like frolicking horses in a trance. She twirled the long string of white pearls tucked neatly in her low cut silk blouse so many times they began to loosen and she feared that they would come loose if she didn’t stop fondeling them with her freshly manicured nails. She had bought her ticket for this experience months prior and had dressed and packed for it accordingly however her lack of patience was getting the best of her and she started to suddenly have second thoughts.
I learned Audrey was a cooperate attorney and was ready to get as far away from her old life as possible. She was looking for the same pot of gold and eternal lake of youth that I too coveted. She told me that Jed had experienced a life altering stroke and could no longer see or speak. He wanted eternal life as well.
It was then that I realized there were over 100 people in our little collection of aspiring soul searching seekers. All of us wanting so much more than the death that had suddenly come
upon us. We all had waltzed our way through the illuminate tunnel of white. We all saw the same black shadowy figures touch us with long lithe impressions. But we escaped before it could suck us into its great void. And opted for the never-land before us and sold our souls for the golden ticket to the unknown.
The alarm began pulsating through my ear drums. I hit the snooze button. And rubbed my allergy infused eyes one at a time. I glanced over at my husband lying next to me, he was wrapped up in a cacoon of sorts. And here I was awake. Ready to start another day, disappointed that my reality was dull in comparison to my fantasy infused dreams.