De' Ja' Vu

Seeing your face
awashed in yellow halos
would the strike of that feeling
like an arrow piercing my thoughts
a midsummer sunshine peeling off
old skin
take flight in my head again-
would your feet in sandals
melt my exterior mask,
making me draw you, paint you,
write you, dream you
for years after again?

With one glimpse,
would that false web
of enthrallment
cage me
lingering until every scent
of you has been washed off again?

My falling star
was the twinkle in your eyes
and after every storm is taken,
every scent washed away
would my thoughts scream
anarchy-

After years
with one glimpse
would I know
what to say
again

Merry Christmas Hosebags

Merry Christmas to all my dear and loved. I wish to you the best the holidays has to offer. Merry Christmas to the taxi driver that tried to kill me in the walmart parking lot, the old biddy that grabbed those slippers right out of my hands. The douche who got 10 bucks out of me because he was deaf. (He heard me when I honked at him to move his mobile buggy full of beer cans). The parent at the 5th grade Christmas party who droned on about her husbands dually. That bitch had a Hemi. The lost boy who couldn't remember where he lived and took us all over town in search of his guardian's friend's uncle's car. The cashier that closed the lane after all my shit was on the conveyer belt. And most of all.... Merry Christmas Jennie.

Lullaby (pt.2)

I knew I had to get out of here. I just didn't know where? I step out from under the tree timidly. Baby steps, I tell myself summoning what courage I don't have. I tip toe to avoid the opalesque colored puddles left from the down pour, following a path that lead directly into the fog. It has to lead somewhere I think to myself and keep stepping. The terrain is rocky and covered with mossy roots. I loose my footing and the next thing I remember is rolling down a revene. I am unable to grasp anything on the way down. Just as I plunge over the edge I grab a thick root or vine. I keep clawing my way up the slimy pole. I couldn't tell you what was below me. I didn't stick around to find out. I continue to grasp at anything that resembled solid ground, until I could swing my foot up onto the edge and get the hell outta there. I look down wincing at the gurgling, bubbling bog. Damn that was close. A cold shiver overcomes me and my breath is visibly colder now. I am panicked now, I don't mind telling you fine people. My teeth are clattering and I realize it is raining again. I pull the sleeves of my torn and tattered jacket as far over my hands as I can. The rain feels sort of acidic and and burns stightly on my face. I duck under a patch of scrub brush and wait again. This time I realize suddenly that I am not alone. I have indeed come face to face with the creature the bird foretold.

To be cont...

A lullaby Dani style

The rain was cold. It felt like ice coming down in heavy droplets. I am not sure how I got here or why. I sit here under this tree's canopy and wait for the rain to die down. Minutes turn to hours and I sit rocking rythmically back and forth. Above me I hear almost inaudible whispers. They are drawing closer. I 'm too scared to look up. It is getting dark and I seemed to have stepped out of reality. I brace myself because I have an uncanny feeling the other shoe is about to drop. Then quiet.. The rain has stopped. It has formed odd colored puddles around my feet. It has a peculiar odor too. I look off into the distance but a fog has formed clouding the perimeter. I has a strange beauty to it though,even if the trees have strange tenticle looking things. I begin to feel my way out from under this umbrella of trees. Out of the quiet a voice emerges. It hisses and crackles and I jump back. I feel stupid when I realize it is a crow. He is jet black with piercing yellowish green eyes, and why wouldn't he? I have stepped into hell I think to myself. He lands on a branch above my head and "You" he says in a hushed tone. "You are evil" he continues when he see's I am listening. "You will perish this night". He is chuckling too himself now. Oh yeah Ah Ha Ha, I think. "stupid bird" I mutter. " I know you" he says in a very irritated tone now. "You cannot save yourself" he says almost laughing hysterically now. I am still trying to figure it all out when he continues, "Travel to the top of the hill". He stops. I fidget with my ever tightening collar. "Yes" I say, I really want to get this over with. It almost seems as though he smiles. "Throw yourself to the creature who dwells there in the shadows. He laughs again. "She will almost certainly EAT you". His laughter now is a shrill high pitched diabolical laughter that pains my ears. Suddenly he flies straight up and is gone.

To be continued....

You see the pain that lies in her eyes,
But, alas, her eyes are dry,
She won't cry.
No, she won't cry.

You see the anger that burns from her gaze,
The madness that sets her eyes ablaze,
She won't cry.
No, she won't cry.

You see the fear that closes her eyes,
The smile she wears is but a disguise,
She won't cry.
No, she won't cry.

You see the hope that is finally dead,
She cannot trust for her heart has been bled,
She won't cry.
No, she won't cry.

You see the love that lies within,
But she shall never love again,
She won't cry.
No, she won't cry.

You see death's hand that has glazed her eyes,
No one saw her die inside,
They won't cry.
No, they won't cry.

Getting Older

First ~ Eventually you will reach a point when you stop lying about your age and start bragging about it.

Second ~ The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.

Third ~ Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me, I want people to know "why" I look this way. I've traveled a long way and some of the roads weren't paved.

Fourth ~ When you are dissatisfied and would like to go back to youth, think of Algebra.

Fifth ~ You know you are getting old when everything either dries up or leaks.

Sixth ~ I don't know how I got over the hill without getting to the top.

Seventh ~ One of the many things no one tells you about aging is that it is such a nice change from being young.

Eighth ~ One must wait until evening to see how splendid the day has been.

Ninth ~ Being young is beautiful, but being old is comfortable.

Tenth ~ Long ago when men cursed and beat the ground with sticks, it was called witchcraft. Today it's called golf.

And finally ~ If you don't learn to laugh at trouble, you won't have anything to laugh at when you are old.

Teenagers...

So... this one is getting to be a complete pain in the ass. It hit suddenly. Bammm she's a raging bitch. No offense Boo.. I can't please her, slobbery all around, and fits of tears and emotion... Oh the drama of it. Ok, so I will be 32 years of age in exactly 42 minutes and in all of my years, nothing has prepared me for this crap. I, as some of you know am indeed a raging bitch myself, (if you don't know me then I will tell you I am quite wonderful)but more in the sense of well hell, if you know me... yeah. But this is different. I can't explain it. D has been quite abit more stern with her because when it comes to my kids, I am a puss. He is right though (yes I said it). I thought you could "be friends" with your kids. It has gotten me nowhere fast. I am treading water here. Ok honey, public announcement.... You are the best!!! and the smartest one of us.... I am beating my head against a bitchy teenage wall.

I'm Back!!! Ehhh... who cares

This is where I want to be right now!!!!