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Cool Fire Fall

The wet fallen amber leaves cling to the windows of my car as I drive down the windy road. The adrenaline pumps through their veins as they enjoy the last thrill of their lives. The wind sneaks underneath one that is the color of fire, lifts it off the glass and charms it into a beautiful and quick paced dance. I reach out and gently grab a leaf that is flapping up and down as to say hello and run the slick autumn between my fingers.



Photo Cred: "Artodin" this AMAZING Taiwanese photog (with a really cute dog) that I stumbled upon on Flickr. Check him out!

The bus jerks and helpless bodies echo.

She excitedly flung her sweatered arms around his neck, stole one more smiley kiss. He lovingly grabbed her hand, frolicked across the street as it were a beach. Unable to contain their raw joy wildly radiating from their bright faces in this cool fall.

Some people say "we need to talk," I monologue.

2.10.09
My words seem to flow in scripted form in ways that my mouth finds impossible.
So, I can swear up and down a Birchwood that my skin is synonymous with steel, but against all resistance, emotions have seeped through…melting away my bulwark…leaving me vulnerable to the elements.
Though I’m uncertain of what I want, I know I’m frustrated.
In my mind, I’ve decided that you’ve decided that your interest is minimal. I know this isn’t fair, but it seems to be easier to think there is some kind of certainty in the fog of intangibles.
Is this situation that is “unprogressive casual” meant to stay stagnant, or die off? I seem to find myself in these interim situations often, which probably says something about me, and I usually let the progressive atrophy or organic “fizzle out” take its course after frustrated head scratching or partial drowning in my own cloud of thought bubbles. I know if I don’t say something, I would begin my intricate process of mental deconstruction of the situation and self-sabotage. It really is quite an intricate process! By saying something, I’m giving you the opportunity to respond…or not to respond.
We haven’t even slightly touched on all the bits of baggage that we’ve collected and tightly packed into our bindle sticks. So, I have no idea…really…where you are coming from in your relationship past. I will admit, this has been some strategic dodging; afraid what the answers are, and afraid to disclose the scathes of my past that can be dismissively laughed at as trifling matter. This doesn’t mean I’m not about to be offed by the culprit that killed the cat. Except, my curiosity is coy and careful. I’m actually intrigued by everything about you, especially that which seems to lay under the surface.
My life seems to be filled with lots of uncertainty, pumping my veins to full capacity with crazed energy…
I just need to actively try to sort some of these things out.
I’m hoping this will spark some real life conversation, regardless of discomfort or any other impediments we (predominantly I) can imagine up. Maybe a conversation where you can shed some light, clarity, frustration, etc. with some back and forth action? Or maybe, not? I know a similar conversation was had, but I think a more explanatory and perhaps decisive discourse is warranted.

Smitten with the beautiful unknown.

12.15.08

Our sweetly remembered exchanges blanketed by thick and heavy intoxication,

details blurred at the edges.
I was magnetized to you with a pull so strong and inexplicable,

I crumbled at any sign of effort from you.

All our interactions tipsied by the prefacing wild night,

making something out of nothing at all.

What was I so infatuated by when I didn't even have a handful of your real soul to hold on to?

Fabricated ideas of you filled the gaping holes your outspoken humor shoddily tried to caulk.
I was chasing you with such stamina when all you wanted to do was hide.

Even without knowing you I couldn't help but want to be near you.

The night that I will never forget,

the night that I still swear magic played some part in,

is a little charm I hold deep in the soul of my pocket.
I don't remember a single conversation from that star-filled darkness,

but instead the electricity that ran through our bones and sparked between our lips...

The uncontrollable violent laughter that nearly knocked me off the quiet sleeping metal dinosaurs we climbed in the middle of all the construction...

the silence that we peacefully floated in,

breathing in the damp warm summer laying with our limbs in a circle...

I inhaled your exhale dreading the moment when life would disrupt the perfection of this dream.

Thinking if I held on tight enough,

kissed you long enough,

I could postpone morning.

As morning came as it always does, we played our game a little longer.

I still never knew how you felt about anything.

Whether you thought of me with a smile and maybe half the kindness my thoughts held,

or as simply a lovely meaningless distraction.

I eventually grew weary and defeated and did what I could only imagine you had been hoping for...

I pretended to move on.

I did everything in my power to pretend so hard it eventually transformed into a bitter and angry reality.

As time passed, she did as she usually does and laid her healing hands on my wounds.

Fate chuckled as she put you back in my life...

though this time, forcefully platonic with distance as a reinforcement.

Slowly layers of you peel away, seductively revealing bits of your core.

Instead of disappointing me, you measure up against my crafted fabrications,

you prove you are better than I ever remembered.

That I wasn't addicted to you simply because you were out of reach,

but the quality of your substance merited my desire.

flaws stroked with heavy hands still blare in deep dark ink which keep me from revisiting the pain of butterflies flapping so hard with paper thin glass wings,
but at least now I can see beauty in the mess and slide rose-colored lenses over my 20/20 hindsight.

[Rothko No. 14 (my fav. painting)]

Beautifully intricate lines of poetry woven together can easily sew themselves into the quiet intimate spaces of my heart.

Boots and Scarf told me fall is really here today.

So I pulled Boots leg by leg over my jeans,
looped scarf loosely around my neck,

and tried to wear a smile to match.

Photo Cred: Lubna A.

4.30.09

My goofy grin of satisfaction seeps out uncontrollably as I’m trying to compose myself in public.
I just left that bookstore with previously enjoyed gems,
Bookshelves perfumed with that wonderful smell of time.
I sat in a lonely chair with its white leather dress torn at the corners and patterned with stains.
I grabbed his book off the shelf again.
I examined the crisp leaves wearing different eyes,
Reading only those pieces monogrammed discreetly with the letters he owns.
His beautiful soul windows of azure held steady in my mind as I indulged myself in his poetry.
I examined treasure after treasure as they were secrets I stole, like a peephole to his soul.
I stared for moments awkwardly long into the glittering contents tainted with sadness, hopelessness, cynicism, and anger, but all beautiful.
My favorite poem is pretty predictably my favorite.
Words paint this beautiful woman, imperfectly perfect.
Each quirky detail scripted.
She laughs and screams with giggles in her hair, and smiles in her curves,
I’m glad to meet her.
The idiosyncrasies he chooses light my smile knowing those are the things I want people to love about me.
He loses hope at the end of that piece,
But I’m not ready to deem my perfect picture as fiction,
just yet.

You never smiled when you saw me coming around the corner.
Because of that I held mine as a secret in my mouth, ready to bubble out like water boiling over.

When I'm alone in public smiling, I'm probably thinking crazy funny thoughts.

Sometimes when I see people on the esclator, I imagine them as plastic penguins on the mechanical ice stairs. They go up and then down the icey slide with their arms to the side. I imagine the people sometimes falling off, the way the penguins would, no injury but their wheels still spinning :)

happy rain

Caught in the warm summer rain,
droplets as big as balloonless hydro torpedos.
As the gushing water falls victim to the thirsty drain,
I hop and skip from awning to awning.
I fain receive every inquisitorial look regarding my mile wide grin,
Why not smile as the pouring water leads mascara to my chin?
The clouds sharing the stage with the joy spreading sun,
it's happy rain! only adding to the warm season's fun.
mothers and daughters hiding in bus shelters disgruntled,
any sign of easy summer attitude ebbs as the water flows.
I so much want to enlighten about the beauty of our situation,
which I'm sure my durable beaming laugh shows.
The days that cannot be predicted or precluded,
should just be positively framed.


Photo: Lubna A.

I was once so sure.

(When I see those numbers count up nested between two smiles I hope it's you...drawing lines of words outlining the shape of who you are. When I get anxious thinking about the moment when I'm introduced to the you filled with months of textual exchanges, I simply recall the beautiful and easy comfort we floated in when we first met. When I become concerned with worldly context and expectations, I imagine how my hand will fit in yours and smile at the the incredible color of your soul.)


_

You think you’re cured, immune, absolutely ready…then they talk back and you’re just a warm puddle of goo, sliding off the edge of dignity.

I exhale in words.

It will be a hybrid of words I’ve already scribbled and new overflowing ones I need a place to store. You may have already explored and weaved through some, but there will be some fresh lines you can sink your teeth into. Either way, I hope you enjoy, although… it’s not really for you.

Photo Cred: Jordan Quinn Photography