Thursday, February 28, 2013

My Turn


LET ME TAKE YOU into this dream. Deep into the night a group of friends are searching for a little home. Something to get married in and collect stuff toys in and live in. We start off just wanting a little venue with a few people.

The venue after the third small house is a large back yard and I am welcoming people; people who are and friends of friends and Captain Picard. I’m in a pair of pants and nice blouse and I’m waiting for the "dress." I’m wearing a rockin pair of black and gold shoes that Captain Picard notices and the crème de le crème of the dream is me leaning forward after he compliments them and I whisper “I’m the bride.” There was such a feeling of love and excitement and rightness through the dream at in culminated at that point.

A friend of mine gave me a breath mint (haven’t figured out the symbolism for that yet) and asked if I was nervous. I said “I’m nervous but I know it’s the right thing.”

Then I went around the back of this place. A car pulled up, a nice car and the husband to be, with 3 of his friends, all dressed in blue dress pants and white shirts (can you tell we weren’t dressed traditionally for this wedding/party –I love it). This man said the a customer at his place of work wanted to know what he was carrying (my outfit -whatever it was). This led to how great the event was and how excited the customer was for us.
Usually in dreams boyfriends are distant and confusing, this dream I knew who he was and we talked.

I woke up strong and passionate. I have a week of storytelling coming up and this dream focused me for storytelling. “I’m the bride.” Means” it’s my turn I can do it I’m ready, I’m nervous, but it will be ok.”

“I am the story teller.”

 I also dressed up and had a good morning at work, whispering to people “I’m the bride.”

Last night it was my turn.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Beach

There I was
Harboring
A fantasy
On a raft
With unicorns and dry ice
Story books and background music
 
I knew it
But told no one of my adventures
Looking to the ceiling and
Kissing imaginary stars
 
A wave of realism
Tossed me to shore
Exhausted and torn
I became the garbage on the beach
 
The salt sea falls from my eyes
Until I collect myself
And all my pieces
Standing up right
 
Harboring a fantasy is fine
But wait until you take a step
On the beach of reality
And see you’re on solid earth
 
I no longer make camp fires
With imaginary friends
Drink tea alone in cafes
Tonight is dragon fruit covered in chocolate
With people who know me
 
We say there’s something missing
Something that isn’t allowing this dream
To become reality
But maybe tomorrow
After I walk the shore
I’ll realize I am getting there

 

 

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Little Knots

Little artist
Undoing knots
Left over right
Under and through
For me it’s crayons
And water paints
To unclaim those sad tears
Make them happy again
She likes having me home
We write stories together
In the sunbeam
And share them
After dinner
On walks
Her personality
Longs for company
As I long for silence
Everyone loves differently
With this there is no anticipation
No fantasy of the future
We enter and exit the moment
 
Yes, there are still drawings
Of you and I
So maybe we’re
Not over yet

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Second Self

Her name is Anna
She watches my mood
Falling like the snow
On frozen ground
She asks
Is the Sky falling?
Or is the earth rising up
To meet the sky?
 
Her time I must have forgotten
The weekends
Spent cooking and baking
It’s too hard to leave lovers
On weekdays
 
It’s all close up right now
This other part
That I held onto
Like a broken nick knack
That others try to discard for you
But you hold on
Because when you see it
You remember Anna
She flies
 
From above she asks
“Why would you want to leave here?”
I answer
“Because I want to be happy.”
 
Anna took my breath away
Leaving in a hurry
I never knew what she liked
But not this picture
So I keep a picture of me
Smiling
On my desk to remember
Anna.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

You'll Be Blessed


I’m currently reading Farley Mowat’s “Otherwise” I love the title. He is so clear in talking about his childhood and his imagination. I am inspired by at least one line or one paragraph on the page.

 

My apartment, my dream apartment is cold; so cold the fridge stops running unless I turn on the heat in the kitchen. And I don’t care because it’s still my dream apartment. I now have a kitchen table to let people sit at and eat when they come to visit, rather than have them sit on the couch and have Tini stick her face in their salad while they sit on the couch. All tables in my house are used for writing.

 I was completely inspired by a day off I had last week when I made colourful food and had a wonderful weekend that included photographs naps and reading a crappy book.

 If people feel about human relationships and babies like I feel about my cats then let them meet up and procreate. I’m not good with people like I am with cats. But having the cats is giving me a grounding in emotions: I’m not needing something, wanting something, missing something. I’m more whole and that makes me stronger with myself and others.

 I get hit with memories from the past and I wonder if in ten years time I’ll remember this. Will it break my heart? Will it make me strong?

 I had a sad, a depression sad on Tuesday and I sat down with the kitties and after a half an hour I was better and didn’t sink into a full depression. Could I have cured some of my depression in the city if I had had pets? Or did I need the full life lesson to get to this point?


I had a dream about my boss the mean one who tried twice to have my fired. I understand some of the reasons why, but those are only guesses, and I usually feel guilty and not perfect and often confused when I think about those days. SO I did something last night after a bottle of Strongbow during a huge winter storm. I gave it up, I passed the confusion the hate the distrust back to him, I said he could have it now, I didn’t need to be affected by him ten years later. Especially when my current boss and job doesn’t work like that and I’m not that person anymore.


 

I feel blessed by the universe with what I have at this very moment.

 

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Bare

Sometimes
I imagine
Myself
Walking down
The city street
Past the
Freaks lunchbox
Over citadel hill
I see
Grey
Side walks
Shop windows
Bright lights
A home
Of ten years
I have sad
 
The city
Has sad
A hole
Without windows
Without trees
Water
That is
As grey
As sidewalks
Bone memories
In the winter
In the summer
And the boys want
To ask me out
 
And you are bare
 
Will memories of here
Haunt me
In ten years?