The crocus of my heart (2)

She is a pearl, a night pearl left on shore

to enrapture moon

her glow infinite, beneath water, o-er ocean

she turns, a velvet ribbon and I follow

possessed by singular vision

her irregular grace and

the dystopia of instinct

loathes the outline of her leave

with ferocity

she surplants my own gaze

by watching her, I find loveliness again

our language intuited

keys in a fruit bowl

picked at will

flash of silver and her hand

shaped in intention, shifting gears

knee down on gas, slivering through night

was it then?

Harpsichord of need gathered like penitents at wake

wishing themselves beneath earth

if it would evoke feeling, would wake sleeping

outliers of faith, to disturb solemn procession

to forgetting, our tempura hearts

beating in fragile unison

was it then? Testing breakable surface

I chose to dive, collecting your solvent depths

in pollinating gown, as I could taste

grace in my mouth, a melange of unspoken

longing, bursting beneath my blind swallow

I would lie here, my hand in yours, the

curve of us indistinquishable, skin hot with

persperation, a thruming channel of

love coursing my veins

you, in the center, a delight cresting and falling

waves of us, feeling for shoreline, that last cry

holding me to your quake, as passenger will clasp

her bird in descent, flat feathers, going deeper

find another place, as yet unopen to

entreat with the crocus of her heart

til you open again

and a river runs

no words

only felt

that latch lifted

and you place the key

deep within

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Furnish in her own time

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It’s the fantasy

something out of summer, as you’d dream it

bare legs tucked beneath white cotton and trimmed thick lace

laughing clavicle, slipping straps

the long necked wonder of descending evening

that sting on skin from days in sun

I’ve been here before

the last time, I lay beneath a boy with cut glass eyes

who bought me flowers from the night market

before they bombed Bali and innocence was our town

wearing a sarong of blood red and mustard, half grown

walking beaches at night fall, crabs coming up through sand

scuttling into still water, the recede and ebb of thought

knowing he wasn’t the one, still desiring the idea

of love and its myriad faces, the strange places we

take ourselves to feel alive, writhing beneath

his pinion and faith, you’ll stay with me, I’ll

make you like my kind, turn your eyes away

from the obsidian girls who set out sacrifices for Gods

orange petals, I am thinking of her beneath clothes

watching from hibiscus waves, will she learn to

secret away her longing in the deep pockets of

a sarong too wide for any more tucking?

what do we know? We’re just kids building sand castles

on empty beaches and he takes my hand and asks;

let’s keep going until we fall off the world

Please, let yourself, just pretend …

the wild of saying, yes I’ll follow you

travel the globe, searching stones for blood

finding in things that feel wrong, another direction.

Now I have come full circle

we’re not old, but we’re not angular children

thin boned and boundless on their bikes

dream life filling xylophone chests

her eyes are hurt by his stories, I can tell

even as I am the fantasy and the observer

thrown off scent by, my painted toe nails and sunlit hair

the slope of day closing like a picture album

grass like cat fur beneath naked toes

bent wrists spent of expression, limply wait

for electric cumulus as thirst penitent may

befriend dry river bed

I want to say to her; Don’t be trapped any longer

pick up and run away, half flung around the globe

leave the mounting regrets at your door, with the disappointed

find your self again, diving into the gleaming future

sleek as a wet dog will shine beneath and shake off

water weight when back on land

because you can, you know

it’s not written until you write it.

Here … take my hand, I’ll help you

and we jump, weightless

her short nails digging into the soft of my palm

read my future, she whispers into my neck

her breath is cherry, her eyes smudged black

I see the ransack

all the reasons she snarled and bit

for she made it this far, don’t push her

let her furnish in her own time, a place of grace

where light pours pure and undiluted

onto her heavy shoulders, hunched with rage

let it go

you don’t have to be here anymore

we catch the tail wind and it is warm

she murmurs, her eyes wide and seeking

the whole world awaits

Will

Does the wood pigeon know?

when he calls his coo into the night

the cats who stalk will slink toward

the smell of blood and feathers

as I have gathered myself into quills

and spices sealed in alabaster jar

the sum of me is traveled

through moon and sun

like a cut orange leaves her

stain on wood, sticky and bitter

as your imprint has become

my mandala and the furtherance of us

defies life and death

shaking itself off like a dog released from bath

will hurtle, maddened, toward nearest escape

I grew my vines in your wood

my embers are your fire

this melange of you and I

twined like grapes gathering sunlight

before first frost

and the women take in the clothes, hanging on frozen line

even as they capture the day’s warmth

you stretch in this paper thin life time

sew the jagged edges of my need

with your ivory needle

as if we were part of the same

garment

held up

by

sheer

force of

will

Latest @ — hijacked amygdala

My forearm Has your fingers circled around it My waist Your hands meeting each other The tattoo of your movement Across the salt of my plains You chisel my rise and fell my present Into your eyes I tumble As velvet dark becomes elongating heaven Your fingers brush my cries with storm I am beneath […]

via — hijacked amygdala

Natalie Scarberry

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(I took a long time to write this so it’s terribly late – I found it very hard to write. But it’s never too late to say how much you care about someone). This is for my beautiful and dear friend Natalie Scarberry who has left this earth and hopefully is out of pain and smiling down upon us from somewhere.

I have never meant to be selfish. I grew up knowing some very selfish people and I swore never to be like them. I think since I became ill I’ve had less and less time and energy for social media. Frankly I don’t know how you people do it. An hour of socializing online is my max and I have to work. I can’t seem to do all my work, run a household, balance life, make dinner, and spend as much time online as many people I know. (Although I equally know many who are never online). I realize if you don’t have a job or you’re retired it is easier than those of us who work, but I’m still amazed at how much time people can spend online.

Of the many I have met online since my first book was published (before then I was never online as much but it helps to promote) one person who touched me so much with her honesty and sincerity and true goodness was Natalie Scarberry. She spent a huge amount of time socializing online but it never felt like you were one if many. You always felt special. She had that angel’s ability of making everyone feel valued, she used to say it was because her mom did not value her, so she decided she would be the exact opposite and she truly was filled with light and love.

Despite being deeply devout she didn’t judge people who were gay or who weren’t Christian and she understood love in a way few do. From her generation and time that was so rare and she was the kind of person that truly made this world a better place. She was one of the most compassionate people I have had the fortune to know, and it was sincere. She was a wonderful gardener and her garden was a little Eden here on earth. She was one of the smartest, most caring and truthful people I have had the pleasure to know.

We have lost some incredible WP people including two Paul’s and dear Cynthia. I didn’t ever think I’d lose Natalie. And worse, because I’m rarely online long and rush to do things, I had not been in touch with her this last 4 weeks and she passed during that time.

I didn’t know. I am ashamed that I didn’t know. I should have done more. She was so worth it. Although any bodies life is worth it). I complain about others not caring when you’re sick and I was guilty of neglecting a magnificent woman.

Natalie. I don’t want to eulogize. You know how I feel. You made that same permanent mark in every life you touched. And I cared about you these long years. For your courage and honesty which cut to the truth and guided me so many times. I don’t get super close to people easily and you were family.

We who cherish you will never forget you my friend. Forgive me if you can for being so errant and offline these last few weeks when I should have been checking. I have no excuse. I never learned how to spend hours socializing online and that is why you and I wrote letters and sent cards and talked. But I am truly sorry I wasn’t there. And every time I drive through Ft. Worth it is you I shall always think of.

You once said your mom hadn’t much cared for you and we bonded over our moms not really liking us terribly much. Being a disappointment to them. Not understanding why they didn’t like us. I learned years ago from you Natalie, how to realize this isn’t personal even though it seems to be. It isn’t anyone’s fault. And my relationship with my mom was much better and brought us both some happiness for some years because of that. Even though she ultimately decided to end our relationship, there is no anger or hate on my part because of what you, Natalie, taught me. I value myself irrespective of whether my mom does and do not take her not wanting me in her life, personally. Your wisdom taught me to be okay with who I am without needing to hear that from someone else.

You had a brilliant sense of humor. I loved how you would always CUT TO THE HEART of things and write your truth, sometimes with lots of swear words! I found that so funny because you had such class but you were able to say it without reserve. I always knew you were honest because you didn’t mince words or say platitudes. Sometimes you would kick my butt and other times you would scold me but it was always in love. Furthermore you were a light so many reached for, with your daily quotes and thoughts, and your far reaching compassion. When I got sick you were one of few who checked on me regularly and cared – right up until you were sick yourself and had to spend more time taking care of that – although you never stopped caring for others, it’s just who you were.

I didn’t just value you for what you did for me. I valued your fighting words and your spirit. Your humor. Your deep faith. Your beautiful heart. I hope you know all that you did for all those in this world who love you. Your legacy will never die. I am terribly sorry I didn’t know you passed, I will miss you terribly but I truly believe your good heart will always be here with us. I pray for you and your family. Please know from all of us who loved you on WP that you will always be among us. Bless you dearest Natalie. There are not enough good people like you in this world and you made this world a better place for existing in it.

GO FROGS FOREVER. (TCU – we are both huge fans)

https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/name/natalie-scarberry-obituary?pid=192267253

http://www.sacredtouches.com RIP Natalie Scarberry

Something her daughter wrote after she passed; https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/119695645/posts/20618

A beautiful in memorium to Natalie from another WP writer https://planetdreamdiaries.wordpress.com/2019/04/08/heart-of-natalie/

And another beautiful tribute to our friend of colors https://wp.me/p8LpnW-4nF

Always

Rorschach_blot_04Sorrow

You come from the juxtapose of joy

As I ate words of love

I had been starving for

Felt your surround like a glory

My body opening for the first time in years

To the rain of you and your outstretched us.

That safe place

Didn’t really exist

I had simply been running in diminishing blindfolds

Emptying myself of protest just as, in one glance, you fill me whole

Anything less is biding time before dying

And it’s not good enough! I want to feel FIRE.

I am

I said into darkness

A strange person

I spent my youth

Acting multiple roles

Watching the stage from ceilings

And words? You have none, I have plenty

But they mean nothing

The purity of your act

Holding my chin and neck

As only one who owns my heart

Tells me more than any soliloquy.

I am a writer

Who doesn’t believe in detail

I’ve had the most fantastic actors

And I’ve seen through them all

But your raw silent search

Slams me with its reality

And I open and open and open

Crying out my betrayal and my hurt

Your fingers beneath my arching

The feel of you, deep in my journey.

Like a wild wind

I pull hard on you

Because I cannot have enough

I want you to live inside me

Like a flower touching my soul, blooms in darkness

Our fingers interlaced

Things I’ll never be able to say.

I smell home in your neck

I touch pain against bliss

And collapse on the other side

Where all meaning resides and you …

You are my all

I want to stay here

Gathered into you and afraid

Because when you feel

You always walk the edge of a blade

Sharp and unknown.

I cannot say anything

But the feel of you against me, is my only sense

I am driven

Like sea is drawn magnetically, every morning

Thundering against shore or stone

Grieving its former peace momentarily

Before losing in the din and rage of passion

All ordinary sense, replaced with certainty.

I am unable to exist without

The burn of following

I follow you

As we are shadows separate and together

Watching me watching you, merge and turn like slivers of ink

Until one, until none

Indivisible we begin over

Unweaving what was you from my depths

Incomplete now

Stay

Stay

Stay please

Always.

The unlit room

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like a surveyor of tea leaves or coffee grains

you have only seen the bad in me

mama, there is more than that

so forgive me if I hope, you don’t read this

though as I write in the unlit room

with unfurling gloom of coming dark

shadows whisk past in fast motion

like hunting birds intent on victim

pictures of another life

when I close my eyes I hear your voice

imagine home, it includes you

exile is a word I find hard

thinking we’d find a way all these years

my child heart foolishness

we try to repair the mauled favorite toy

we try to reclaim the torn moment

but time moves on and people

betray each other as easily

as reading congealed tea leaves

so read them, tell me my fate

I am sure you think you know

and as the words come pouring out

each one designed for maximum hurt

I will grow away from you like a plant

facing determined shadow will

strain toward the purity of light

I didn’t want this

it wasn’t my wish, the choice was removed

but I am, contrary to your belief

not dying of my own poison

the illness within me

will be healed

and that part that blames me for everything

lying in you, a furious envelope

that tells me I am responsible for my suffering

will meet

the karma we all must face

when cruelty is reflected back at us

I had hoped so much all these long years

for your mercy and your presence

but as they told me

you cannot long for something you never had

cannot make someone feel what they do not feel

you asked me why I called today

I knew you would lash out, I knew it would hurt

and maybe like a penitent I felt

saying goodbye and letting you know

I love you, was worth the scald

because I had a dream

it was a dream I lived a long and healthy life

it wasn’t with you and you were not there

somehow I still smiled and carried on

and when I woke I wanted to ask you

how could I ever live without you?

when you brought me into this world

I know your voice, as I know myself

and I have loved you more than anyone

but I already hear the answer

burning the silence of my stare like a

forgotten match wicking itself to fabric

devouring oxygen and matter like

a scream will penetrate quiet night

I know, in the slick loathe of your tone

the way you know just how to plunge the knife

you don’t need me you say, you never did

I am an unwanted thing, better disguarded

let loose to tumble into the past, better never born

and though I may not know it now

you set me free as I forgive the ache

letting go of all those years of chasing

those folded sorrowful times of indifference

to claim what we should all have

the knowledge of real love

instead of being reminded of

someone who never thought you worthy or special

who happened to give birth

with the anger of a condemned prisoner

Oh and I wish

I could go back in time and undo

that bloody hour

where you never had

to endure the pain of bringing me into the world

for surely

I would

that is the point of unconditional love

you give even when it hurts

and I would dissolve me to save you

but it is too late for that

and for wishing I had a daughter

I could pour my heart into

but I will find something else

maybe out there in the wild where

people do not carve out pain with

the sharp edges of their own

and when I told you I would always love you

I meant it

even as you push me away one last and final time

which I accept

with the gait of one who knows

she has more life ahead

in the bowers of empty space

among the fir trees growing like prayer

toward the glassy reflecting heavens

it will not always be so sad

it will not always be so sad