Saturday, January 30, 2016

Beach


Meghan on the shore,
walking in her bare feet,
all alone.
She's listening to the waves,
on the ocean
She wears a boa,
made of orange feathers
and a bright coloured jacket
And tights

Meghan on the shore,
imagining herself,
in her own photograph
she wants to be chosen
as the land scape
for this music video
she sees in her head

but she is the only one who sees the beauty
a few kids walk by and snicker
at the choices of her colours
the proud face that once
listened to the waves hears
the smashing laughing of the children

We don't know this lady
will never see her again
except that her jacket
is found in the garbage can
on the way off the beach
the sounds of laughter
hurt too much
to even drive home
in a jacket that made her feel like a rock star
until her little fans
called her out.


Only now, as an adult, can beauty be seen


Soul Knight



I wish I could remember my dreams
Because I know you were there
I never had my knight in shining armour
but that armour I wore deep into the night

There was a reason, there's always a reason
Little tip toes on the top of my soul
The words I share on the paper
Have scared you too many times

I just jumped the octave
Like a child in a bouncy castle
Making up songs; making up
This life as I go along

I wish I could hear your voice
Because I know you are very close
You can be my knight in shining armour
If I let my guard, my armour down

There was a reason, there's always a reason
Little tip toes on the top of my soul
By the words I put on the paper
I have been scared too many times

So I jump the nightmare
A gazelle from the teeth of the lion
I fall again in exhaustion

A child in a bouncy castle


Tuesday, January 19, 2016

I Get My Kicks above the Waist Line Sunshine

                                                                     not my photo

I was going to go to bed. I was going to write my stories before I went to bed, but instead I'm at my blog. At least I'm not shaking like I was this morning. You see in case you're new here I have depression, and in case I didn't mention it yet the new Dr has me on a dose/cocktail that really works. Focus, feelings, confidence all improved. Like all the self help books made sense with the extra dose of Prozac.

But today I was reminded how hard it is to deal with these people in the medical profession. I don't have a Dr right now, so the psychiatrist? Has decided to ask me about my diet and my exercise. Well I don't eat meat. And he's decided to drill me on my religion. Which I really don't even talk about on my blog, because it's mine and no one needs to hear about it unless we've know each other for a long time and have a girlie drink in our hands; and you start.

So he said that it was weird that I don't eat meat. And he told me that if I believed in the bible I could eat meat. Because Jesus died on the cross so we could eat meat. It still makes me shake my head. He also said I sounded morally superior because I didn't eat meat. I didn't know how to answer so I agreed with him, I said maybe I was superior.

I'm used to getting people who are, or very close to, a cult. SO I'm terrified half the time to even use the word god, even if I'm referring to the power of the universe, heart and soul; that pull that is a greater power than what we know.

I'm used to sitting quietly for a Dr to finish their sexist speech, they're assumptions about my husband (remember I don't have one) and that Julia Cameron isn't a useful ally in depression,

Oh, but they are.

But remember 1) he's got the cocktail right and 2)no one messes with my animals. So i stood up for my beliefs and my decisions I said “I grew up with animals, chickens, cows, goats, horses, I know their personalities.” I may have mentioned their cute and cuddliness too.

“Even the Chickens?” He asked
“Yes” I said “even the chickens.”

And the conversation continued until he said I was getting better and I could go.

Now I would like to walk away be like all morally superior. Like when I was 20 and in the city. But I need my Prozac, and sitting with him for 45 minutes is easier than going to out patience every three months. But I still feel like I'm fighting an extra fight that I shouldn't have to, to be happy.



Sunday, January 17, 2016

KEY LIME and WINE

not my photo

On a Saturday night
With good friends of mine
I will always taste
Key lime in my soul
Key lime with a touch of
Wine

Some times I see pictures
From decades ago
And think about the child
That has turned me into
Key lime with a touch of
Wine

A Robert Munch book
In a corner with lion king Pj's
A Buddy Holly song
On the cassette player
And here I am still
child

On a Saturday night
I watch the world grow old
Around me trees tall
Babies learn to walk
Me a Key lime pie and

Glass of wine


Saturday, January 16, 2016

The promise

There was an add for a basement apartment on face book today. Reasonable price for the city it was a hundred and thirty more than I pay, BUT heat was included, it said quiet and clean so there are probably no pets allowed. But with dreams of me going to the city every night I took a second look (and a third look to write this.)

I died in the city; I had my heart broken I was so in love with life and the people that were in it with me that when it became real, all the pain was too much, and anytime I tried to get it back, between the catering and the houseman work it all fell apart. SO I moved home. I stopped singing every day, I stopped singing at all and I see this advertisement for a basement apartment and it's like a date with an old lover. 

Come give us a try we've both changed so much...

“...Come see nights of zuppa circus and jazz festivals and live music any night of the week, not just once a month. Be around the creative people, live creative, make it work this time.

But there's a logic, that says I can't be in love with the same lifestyle I had when I was twenty, it burnt me out caused me to sleep all the hours I wasn't working.

Here I am in Duncanville, in B town, trying to write stories and poems and novels, and moving to the city isn't going to make me write more. Here I am in Duncanville with cats a 9-5 job and singing lessons and a great group of friends. That's something to hold strong to, and not run away from, to not get scared and run away from.

You can say that in a way I have collected little pieces of that theatre dream and pulled out what I wanted, what makes me well, and at 40 I write and nap in tandem and sing every day and have little opportunities to sing in public.

I was reading David Ushers book today “let the elephants run” And he said If you're not embarrassed by your first time (inventing, creating a business, being creative etc) you've waited to late and I'm reminded of how true that is from my open Mic experience
“I tried too soon.”

No David Usher says “you did it right on time” and I bet it will be a little embarrassing at first but I'll soon get it.


So I wrap up that little invitation with a kiss, a cute little basement apartment in a city that no longer makes movies, I can make music and stories in my little hovel in b town, in ducanville. Another day, another page, another song.