If you can find me
In the nowhere place
Meet me there
Speaks in the leaves
Lifts the winged ones
Fire lights sky
Grey eyed lady
Dancing on green ice
Waiting to see
If you can find me
Among grinning stones
Tickling sand banks
Banked into water flows
Sweeping me up
Stronger than any man
Into the higher rocks
I could not climb
Treading unseen current
One dragon fly
Catching a wet moss breath
Light upon light
Come dance Ousha
No one will see but me
If you can find me
Once upon a time there was a girl who knew too much about guys. She thought it might be fun to find out things so she, and some of her friends, got together to make a test. They did this test many time in many forums over the years. One girl was the leader…I was one of the followers and the hypothesis of the experiment was that no men are faithful.
From Myspace to Tickle to Facebook the test stood through time.
It started as one girl who saw it as her mission to help other women by showing them what dogs their men were and then dumping the dogs. She was fascinating to watch in action! She would say,
“Get ready to see some pretty colours!”
I was always watching.
She had a real talent for breaking even the most holy of boofs (and some of their goofs too!) She was like Jimi Hendrix’s song ‘Bold As Love’…..(just ask the ‘Axis!’)
Now of course alot of people do naughty talk in private (until now when General Snowden told America “all their base belong to us”). But most of that naughty stuff stays private OR the people involved don’t CARE if they are private or not (but that is another subject) but this girl could make a priest talk nasty! Then she would email it to the bishop AND the archdiocese!
Talk about amazing!
I saw guys fall like ducks from the sky in season! Emails went out like mad to all boofs and goofs and soon EVERYONE in that circle was aware:
Even the most holy guys cheat….
(Since then I have found one or two exceptions but even the exceptions like non touchable naughty stuff)
Over time it became profiles that were ‘man traps’ and were sometimes turned on and off for effect as women who were curious about their husbands, (and/or boofs), went into profiles to check people up to see if they would be naughty with a ‘haughty hottie’…
Most all of them fell for the haughty hottie like mighty oaks…
This had the cumulative effect of making the women and girls behave like the men…and the men behave like the women…
…and that is how ‘metro-sexuals’ happened
Oh how we can never know
For certain how the winds will blow
The little ships that are our lives
Each moment is a new surprise
No one thought they’d become
Those things never chosen by some
Or the little hells with which we live
Or the little heavens that we give
Past all these things that, you, surround
Laughing screaming loving without sound
Behind the face only the world can see
Behind that face you’ll find us: you and me
The things we never mention for the hopelessness
The things we vocalize so we can, hope, ingress
Behind it all plays an orchestra
You and I are maestro and maestra
Manipulating electric vibrations
The song the world sees interpretations
The song the one once called ‘Of Myself’
Is the song of ‘Everyman’ I do believe
Some sing it with great skill and some with poor
No matter how we sing it: face that ‘door’
Through, whose entrance, none seem to return
In spite of that the things we make we learn
Old photos and old letters and old life are
Some day to become nothing but a ‘sifar’
Or some say ‘cypher’ and some say a story
That starts and ends with zero for the glory.
Whisper to my heart child
Inside my heart
I am so green and new
Round eyes staring at blue
Oh how birds sang then
To the me that still looks out
These old windows
Dreaming of red dirt fields
Blue and yellow white
How the aria of my soul
Flies like those kites
We made from spray paints
News papers and rolls of twine
RUN CHILD RUN
Taste the way the land feels
How Nature shows you It’s alive
Hold the earth in open arms
Eat the sunshine and the rain
This is not real this now
Not one moment
What is real was is and ever will be
Two hundred numbers in my phone
Is anyone at home
To make a new connection
There are days I think I’ll call them all
Shock a stranger to a call
To avoid the introspection
Yes I’m looking for a new friend now
Like the one from childhood
No one since then was like her
Do those come only once a life how
Rare it is for one life’s runner
To find love that close and good
I am not crying it’s just allergies
I eat pink pills all day to kill
The constant sneezing nose
Now that the rain is gone the flowers
They will make me wish for stone
Alone that is the way it goes
How I wish that I could sing it all
But I can only hear it in
My head so I live within again
If I can just wait one more day ’til Fall
I still forget about it all
Until it once more starts to rain
…somewhere I know there are people making love, watching movies with the kids, and maybe even making snow angels at night.
I am alone here but, somehow, all of the smiles and emotions of everyone I love are like the panoramic background of my thoughts. I feel you hugging, fighting, silently angry, laughing. and living real life. I get to do more of that all the time.
One of these days I will be like them too. Already it had started. Only weekends and holidays now do I have the option of ‘all day’ to choose from in between tasks and doctor visits and pain. Soon there will be more reasons to be gone from the boxed life.
The other day I cried until I made myself sick because I was busy being very very tired from living real life and when I found out I missed a precious friend I only got to talk to twice this year I went berserk and then stopped and wondered: “do they miss me that much?”
There is a feeling of guilt to leaving those who have come to rely on your friendship and company and a feeling of loss when you miss them because, even though people say the box is not real and the people in it are not real they ARE real. There are real hands typing real words on a keyboard somewhere with real feelings, hopes and dreams.
I can’t wait to start swim therapy.
I will be gone one or two hours every evening they have it. I can’t walk very well but surely I can swim! It means I may miss people. I have to learn not to cry over the precious ones.
I made it look good. It was slow going and I needed that stick but I made it look cool…There is always a last of everything until the very last of everything….Maybe one of Life’s biggest lessons is about how to lose things.
In six years from a very slow short distance that looked to cool until now….from stick to chair….from nature to Hobbit Hole…and I am still smiling.