….why paisley???

Chaos by ~moonbeamballerina on deviantART

i am so thinking about
what i have to do
to make my life livable..
don’t get me wrong,,
i love my little corner of the world..
i love my solitude..
i love my dogs …
i love my house..
i love my writing..
but i am a very
unsatisfactory
boring
human being
at the moment-
and i need to add….
some chaos..

i’d love to say
love-
or sex-
or entertainment-
if i thought for a minute
that would fit the bill…
but i know me
and chaos
is the only thing
that rings true to me..
the only thing
that makes my heart race
the only thing
that makes me feel-
alive…

i know not
from what source
such chaos will come..
i don’t even know
if it is possible
in a little town
of just over 500 people
on the west coat
of marin county califoinrnia
to find an adequate amount
of chaos
to fulfill my desire
but i do know..

i am gonna find out….

i read something this morning on a blog i frequent called the ole blue the heretic,, we’ll call it the lonely poem,,  and it reminded me,, that there is much to be said about the virtues of simple human contact…

Seduction by ~samiam014 on deviantART

-she grabbed a handful of his shirt,, and roughly pulled him in close to her.. with no introduction,, and even less provocation,, she grasped his lower lip firmly in her teeth,, and proceeded to run her tongue slowly, seductively, along the lower line of his lip..

he felt a deeply sensuous growl escape her lips and travel like renegade electricity thru the tip of her tongue.. in that instant,, every fiber of his being, simultaneously ignited..

.. before he was able to wonder who she was, or what had possessed her,, she let go.. with a quick, over the shoulder glance,, wide blue eyes peered back at him from under a fringe of dark bangs, and she disappeared.. lost into the hazy apparition of cigarette smoke from whence she had emerged just a moment before… -

a simple seduction.. nothing outrageous,, nothing so far off the beaten path that a portion of our being is unable to instantly identify with a similar scenario in our own lives…

now,, allow me to revamp this scenario ever so slightly,, by introducing some further details about our main character.. lets say,, i add that “she” is over 45,, and that “she” is a few,, (okay 25) pounds over her ideal weight.. perhaps, there is a glimmer of gray breaking thru the bottle brown of her hair,, (just at the root line, mind you) and even tho they are not as noticeable in the dimly lit,, smoky atmosphere of the bar room in which this scenario is playing out,, her once flawless skin,, is now showing signs of life’s inevitable weathering in the form of fine lines,, perhaps on her brow, her lip,, or around her once devastatingly blue eyes….. this scenario goes from simple seduction,, to a rather unwelcome visual real quick,, huh???

at some point,, thru no real fault of our own, we reach a point where the a simple seduction is no longer simple.. the fact that we find ourselves,, no longer young and or beautiful in the same ways in which we once were,, seems to induce a feeling of inadequacy (although some choose hide behind the term “maturity”) which, in more instances than not, will cause us to shy away from such spontaneous displays of seduction,, as they are more likely to become open invitations to rejection or humiliation,, than precursors to something ever so much more delicious….

- even tho for all intents and purposes,, the act of human contact does not have to be linked directly to ones sexuality,, or lack there of- in reality,, it is..

finding myself in a portion of life for which i am extremely ill prepared,,( as i fully intended to be dead well before now,, ) i know, first hand, what it is like to experience a life devoid of human contact.. it is painful and scary- and no matter how many times you tell yourself,, “you are better off”,, or “you don’t play well with others” or “you have a distinct knack for always choosing the absolute wrong partner”,, in the back of your mind,, you cannot help but ask yourself,, if you have already been touched “like that” for the last time in your natural life.. and the longer it goes on,, the little voice in the back of your head becomes ever so much more distinct as it chants knowingly into your stream of consciousness, “yes.. yes.. yes…”

and although i find myself at a loss as to how i might further expound on this topic-i guess i just wanted to throw this out there,, so that all of you who know exactly what i am talking about,, would know,, that you,, my friend,, are not alone…..

Don’t worry about avoiding temptation - as you grow older, it starts avoiding you. ~Author Unknown

Telephone. by ~Oro91 on deviantART

i wanna call an old friend
from my childhood
talk about kickball and boys.
i wanna make fun
of somebody’s mother,, ride our bikes
and smoke butts-
at least till the ice cream man comes..

i wanna call an old friend
from my adolescence
buy a cheap bag of weed
and a bong.
talk about frenching, while coughing
my ass off,
then pass out all fucked up, in the sun..

i wanna call an old friend
from my 20’s
buy a case of cold bud
and some rock.
bitch about guys we shouldn’t love-
but can’t leave,
’cause damn it,, the sex is too hot..

i wanna call an old friend
from my 30’s
tell them “i’m off all that shit,
man, i’m clean..”
but i can’t, because i can not find them,
they’re all dead, or in jail,,
or worse- clean like me..

in her write on wednesday prompt, becca suggested that we write about those things from which we draw inspiration.. i listed mine… and this is what became of that list……

i feel at home in the company, of long abandoned, buildings..
i find my voice in graffiti, sprayed in angst, on broken walls..
my spirit climbs the ancient trunks, of tangled, gnarled, trees.
and i see god, in granite angels, as they kneel on hallowed ground..

i feel secure in rooms ensconced, with somber, sultry, virgin icons..
i find passion, in the gentle touch, of hard, coarse, calloused hands..
my heart resides in old black and white visions, caught on ageless celluloid.
and i see forever, in the words, that these simple things have inspired….

photo:

http://anomalie-vert.deviantart.com/art/Inspiration-30781512

Window Watcher by ~Jheiracks on deviantART

thin and frail she
lurks just,,
outside my window..
from the shadows
she implores,,
“please,, let me in..”

she begs me,,
eyes wide,
just like a child’s..
she looks so fragile,
so innocent,
alone, out there..
she taps lightly,
on the pane
and she whispers,,
“i still love you…
let me in,,
i’ll be your friend…”

thin and frail
she lurks just,,
outside my window..
it should be, so easy,,
to just open it,
and let her in..

but instead,
i draw the blind
so i can’t see her..
i write a poem,
i paint with words,
and i pretend..
that the scared,
little child-
just outside
my window,,,
is not me-
i don’t long,,
to let her in…..

i have too much going on in my head to write something new today,, so i pulled this over from just paisley…. for those of you that didn’t get a chance to see it first time around…..

this one was inspired by a line i found in a poem called counting tills, by noah the great….. that line was “with the stench of alcohol mating.”

there he stood, hands over head
in the doorway.
holding himself upright
fingers clenched tight,
on the jamb.
he was wearing his head
for a necklace-
more baby right now,,
than a man…

it had to have been
at least three thirty..
all the bars had
closed long ago.
with a tilt of his head,
and that little boy smile,
he made sure
i wouldn’t ask him to go…

despite the fact, that
he no longer lived here-
he knew that,
i was powerless
to resist,,
the stench of
alcohol mating,,
that brought him “home”
in weak moments
like this….

photo:

http://kimballgray.deviantart.com/art/The-Bed-79922484

authors note: i changed the line in question,, does it read more cohesively now??

this is moo moo.. she is one of my loves in fur coats.. she is my eight year old rottie.. she has an evil foxtail up her nose,, and has to go to the doggy hospital in the morning and be anesthetized so that they can stick a scope up her nose and extract it.. we just got home from the poking,, prodding,, doctor,, and she cannot have any food or water tonight.. so she is not at all happy… and when moo moo ain’t happy… ain’t nobody happy….

see you tomorrow…..

we are having a heatwave over here,, which is unusual in my little corner of the world,, as normally we are more temperate.. between the heat and the hand fulls of sinus and allergy meds i am imbibing every few hours,, it is safe to say my creativity is currently impaired,, so i think i will stick with a newsy post today,, something i rarely do,, but i feel like it is about all i can handle this morning…

many of you may have already noticed that i am sporting a gorgeous new paisley header on this blog,, and a whole new paisley look over on just paisley….. my ever so talented friend sherrie from happy tiler is to be credited with the creation of them both.. she took a huge block of time out of her already busy schedule to revise,, redo,, and otherwise recreate,, these beautiful headers to fit my vision,, and i want to thank her from the bottom of my heart for all of her time and effort,, and mainly just for the generosity and love that she showed in offering to make them for me…

i have long been a fan of her work,, both her art and her poetry,, and feel honored that she would make me something so personal,, so unique… anyone who doesn’t already frequent her blog, ought to pop in over there and have a look at her beautiful combination of original art and poetry,, you will be thrilled that you did…

secondly,, i have accepted an invitation to become a contributing writer on a composite site called the society of midnight wanderers.. it seems to be a rather eclectic bunch from all over the world,, and includes some very fine writers and poets,, many of whom i am reading for the first time so i am looking forward to getting to know them all better… i have added their avatar to my side bar,, so if you want to drop in and have a look at my first post, a poem i call  “second chance”,, just click on the avatar (or the link) and it will take you over there…

well i guess i will go bury my head in the proverbial sand,, and repost some more lost images on just paisley… yes,, i am still mucking thru all of that mire,, but i have …why paisley??? and secret… secret… all put back together,, so i am over half way there….

in closing i would just like to thank everyone that reads and comments on any or all of my blogs every day,, you inspire me to belive i am capable of great things,, and even if i never achieve them,,, knowing you belive in me,, has made all the difference…….

photo:

http://insomniaartist.deviantart.com/art/News-50413647

photo courtesy of easystreet prompts

daddy says we was a goin’
to the land a milk and honey
but when we got there it
were dry and brown
and folks said we talk funny..
there weren’t no jobs-
very little milk
and we ain’t never seen no honey.
cal-i-for-ni-a
weren’t a very friendly place
for folks that had no money..

they took to callin’ us “oakies”
as if it were somethin’ bad to be.
as if for some kinda reason
i should be ashamed, to just be me.
weren’t none of them folks born there,
so i never did understand
what made them feel
like they was better ‘an me
’cause i was born on oklahoma land..

no sir,, cal-i-for-ni-a
weren’t what it was cracked up to be.
so lord, if thats where your serving milk and honey,,
don’t set no place for me…

in 1977, in north olmsted, ohio,, a 17 year old girl, named yvonne reagler, went to work at a local gas station/convenience store on a sunny summer afternoon,,, and just disappeared.. the money was still in the till.. she left her purse behind.. there was no sign of foul play…

like a wisp of smoke
trailing from the wick
of an outed candle,,
she disappeared silently..
slipped, from the light
into the dark..
the scent
of the burning wax
remained in the air
(an acceptable amount of time
as we tucked ourselves away
safely in our soft suburban beds..)
and then, like she-
was gone,, without a trace…

yet,,
sometimes when i breath
the tender curl
of her waxen smoke
reappears
as if from nowhere..
it will fill the air,
then just as quickly-
once again,, be gone..
a gentle reminder
of an ordinary girl
on an ordinary day
in an ordinary place
on extraordinary journey..
long since removed
but never quite forgotten….

photo:
http://fc08.deviantart.com/fs5/i/2004/350/7/e/whisp_by_triksy.jpg

this memory was brought back to me when i read lissa’s post today,, a story entitled, Hot Day…