And she his Ariadne.

Yet there was no sacred marraige.

There was no bond,

Only her love pouring fourth

And he taking it greedily.

Indeed he was her Theseus,

Leaving her for dead.

This was a rare gift indeed.

She opened like a  flower in full bloom

Attempting to soak up sun, air, life

Two sides of a coin indeed

Dithyrambic and free.

No Dionysos, no Saint, no love.

breath quickening….how can this be happening?

tears, tears, more tears

just breathe.

count to five

gaze at the face that isn’t there

picture the amber eyes

touch of sadness, touch of love, touch of humility, touch of courage, touch of strength

softly ask him

“Why couldn’t you love me?”

Ariadne screams into the wind

which carries the sound and scatters it into thousands of pieces

Her gaze is wild

her skin caked with sand and salt

hair torn and matted

she screams for the ship

hoping he will turn back

But no, he is not her Dionysos

And she is simply

Ariadne Abandoned.

The only thingnear is this foreign atmosphere.

Crawling upwards to the ruins of youth

I shed two salt-free tears.

Moving forward, backward, like rocking a child.

But the child is a song,

The skin worn and cold.

Am I to ride this train forever?

Must I follow the golden light?

Let me find my maker and set things right.

Haze above me and haze below.

I may be where there is nowhere to go.

~

Russian dolls cry out at dawn

For they, too, have been abandoned.

Leaning over the rail as far as I may go,

I see a reflection of the horizon.

No stopping now,  movement must continue.

The song will never end inside my head.

Crazed, I curl up in my bed and dream.

I let the haze carry me where it will.

No past, no future, the present ever-changing,

I seek what I cannot know.

Haze above me and haze below.

I may be where there is nowhere to go.

The storm electrifies my senses, waking me from my despondency.

Days upon days of clouded skies and silent rains nullified me.

Now, at last, Zeus has awakened.

I dance in the rain, singing and laughing,

Wishing this day would never end.

Oh how I miss green and pink and red, yellow, blue….

Not soon enough will the flowers bloom.

Hera is content in her silent slumber,

Knowing the world will grant her everything she desires.

I often wish this contentment would come to me,

Ease my tension, soothe away the hurts.

O Zeu, awaken me!  I am ready for your thunder.

Too long has my inner being slept

Wondering when I shall be whole.

Today is a day of excitement.

O Zeu, my gratitude is boundless.

Beads of sweat fall down your cheek, or are they tears?

Possessions dropping off you, floating down like glitter.

Three stories to go and you change your mind.

Your body ignores you and climbs methodically.

Heat is searing your flesh, your eyes no longer function.

Climbing to get to that fire,

To that place in time

Where everything you once were resides.

But it’s not so.

Branded upon your neck is the icon

That carries you through your days.

Stop climbing and start falling,

Falling down to Earth, to Water, through Air.

Stop yearning for the Fire, you’ve had enough of that.

Dreams will carry you through as they always have.

The world of magic and love and strength and merriment,

This is the real world, the world you’ve created in your mind.

This is where you should be, not yearning for fire.

Stop climbing where you will surely be burned.

Start swimming in the lotus pond,

Gazing at the Moon,

Living,

Loving,

Dreaming.

Plague my days.

Beads of moisture

Slip down my back.

I scratch furiously

At my reddened skin.

Black eyeliner smears

Across my cheekbones.

Muscles tighten,

Never relaxing.

These are a few insomniac things.

Through the window I see nothing,

The pane of glass is in my way.

What lies beyond this threshold?

Are there dreams that have strayed?

I hear noises of the city outside.

I try to guess what is happening.

It’s more fun if I stray from reality

And imagine fantastic occurrences.

A dragon slayed.

A spaceship crashed.

A vampire feeding.

A goddess descending.

These are a few insomniac things.

Do the well-slumbered folk live easier?

Do they find love, happiness, truth?

Is there an underlying secret to the universe

That only the rested know?

Do they live in a world of daydreams as I,

Or do they live in that thing called reality?

I wonder if there really are well-slumbered folk.

Perhaps it is all a lie.

Or maybe they’re all from an alien world.

These are a few insomniac things.

Insomnis.

Such a beautiful word for something so irritating.

Purple lights over silver blankets.

There is beauty in even the tense states.

I need chocolate.

I need hot black tea.

I need a cigarette.

I need cheesecake.

I need sleep.

These are a few insomniac things.

Feeling every kind of sorrow for myself,

Doing the menial task of rinsing out dishes,

Trying to find meaning in my life,

I looked up.

Out the window, snow fell.

Something that usually merits my disdain,

Yet my tears dried.

I found myself smiling, laughing.

I had never seen anything so beautiful,

So meaningful,

So light.

What does it all mean?

Perhaps I’m tired of trying to find meaning.

For once I want to enjoy the moment,

Savor the delicacies.

Savor the abhorrent snow.

And perhaps, one day,

Live.

My shoulder.

My head is filled with visions of

My fantasy life.

Twisted metal yearns without respite

For my blood.

My skin grows a film of green

Like my eyes.

I sit and wonder what event shattered

My icy heart.

What is next as I travel around

My hot sun?

All that matters is while I breathe,

I hope.

Dum spiro,

Spero.

Tequila round the block

You were right all along
I was hiding something from you
What you didn’t realize was,
What I didn’t realize was,
The nature of my secret.

Tequila round the block

When I was a young kit
I rode my bike around the block
It was exhilarating, adventurous
My friends lived on the other side
We laughed and hugged and jumped
The freedom entailed seemed larger than it was

Tequila round the block

Walking into a strange party
I always held myself back
But around friends such as these
My heart was never so safe
And yet I hid it still
Afraid of the inevitable

Tequila round the block

My mind swirled in such a mess
I never knew how to act
I loved them all, they loved me
And yet I couldn’t realize it
I was young and naïve
Cliché, but true
Enough use of French

Tequila round the block

Now I’m so happy to have grown
Surrounded by such incredible people
At that time in life one becomes their own
A tinge of guilt always amasses
And yet I knew no better
Wisdom now penetrates me
Though living the ideal is the trick
I’m still that young blonde girl
In myriad ways

Tequila round the block

Reminiscence is such a beautiful sound,
Taste, touch, scent, and sight
I was loved unconditionally
By my urban family, my Stars
And I loved them unconditionally
Though I was never able to show it
I love them still

Tequila round the block

One more trip and I’ll be stumbling
But I feel so alive and safe
There is no danger, no malice
Just laughter and love
One more trip and I’ll be slurring
But I feel so confident and serene
This is a time I’ll always remember
A time when I was free

Tequila round the block