Saturday, March 31, 2012
5/50 Reasons
"I want adventure in the great, wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell! And for once, it might be grand to have someone understand. I want so much more than they've got planned..." Yes, I stole that from Belle. I don't really feel misunderstood as she clearly was, but I totally do want adventure. And maybe I'm getting it. After all, Belle's adventure led through heartache, too. I just have fewer rabid wolves and no enchanted castles. You win some, you lose some.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
I Used To Have Green Shoes
I used to have green shoes and a cute boyfriend.
At lunch in the sun with friends and happy thoughts
My feet would dangle under the table
My toes flirting with my flats
While my eyes tried to send him my adoration.
I thought we were able to think the same.
I watched him and he watched me.
I thought those looks were so real, so penetrating, so full of feeling.
But then the sole broke.
Of my shoe, I mean.
I taped it and wore them anyway.
Green goes with everything.
Then I started getting blisters
On the bottom of my heels
Where you can’t avoid stepping on them
No matter how oddly you walk.
So one sunny day after lunch
I took them off, threw them away,
And walked home barefoot.
The pavement was cold and my blisters hurt.
But they don’t anymore.
At lunch in the sun with friends and happy thoughts
My feet would dangle under the table
My toes flirting with my flats
While my eyes tried to send him my adoration.
I thought we were able to think the same.
I watched him and he watched me.
I thought those looks were so real, so penetrating, so full of feeling.
But then the sole broke.
Of my shoe, I mean.
I taped it and wore them anyway.
Green goes with everything.
Then I started getting blisters
On the bottom of my heels
Where you can’t avoid stepping on them
No matter how oddly you walk.
So one sunny day after lunch
I took them off, threw them away,
And walked home barefoot.
The pavement was cold and my blisters hurt.
But they don’t anymore.
 |
| No Place by Chris-tel |
Saturday, March 24, 2012
4/50 Reasons
I have the coolest hobby ever: recreating historic dress! My fabric stash isn't too big (believe me, this is a plus) and I have an awesome list of projects that I daydream about and sketch in the margins of my notebooks: a 19-teens corset, Titanic-era evening gown, 18th-century stays, Victorian bathing suit, French bliaut, fitted gothic gown, and a burgundy batiste regency day dress, for starters. I also just finished a pair of RED wool hose to complement my as-of-yet-nonexistent medieval outfits. I love them!
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
It has several times occurred
It has several times occurred that I was not what someone was looking for.
It stung. I felt snubbed and slighted, sometimes led on,
But in the end, I understood.
Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right.
Sometimes you just don’t love someone.
Actually, most of the time you just don’t love someone.
They are the few and far between times that you do.
And it is a miracle moment when you both do.
So why did you have to make it so hard?
Why didn’t you figure it out months ago?
You could have saved me so much pain,
And I would have loved you better for it.
It stung. I felt snubbed and slighted, sometimes led on,
But in the end, I understood.
Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right.
Sometimes you just don’t love someone.
Actually, most of the time you just don’t love someone.
They are the few and far between times that you do.
And it is a miracle moment when you both do.
So why did you have to make it so hard?
Why didn’t you figure it out months ago?
You could have saved me so much pain,
And I would have loved you better for it.
 |
| Chasing Violins by Michael Shapcott |
Saturday, March 17, 2012
3/50 Reasons
Speaking of dancing (because I was), I am amazing at it. Not in the "get discovered by a secret agent and be the next dancing phenomenon" way, but in the "let down your guard and move and sweat and grin and get as close to exploding without actually exploding" way. I love to waltz, I love ballet, I love the Virginia Reel, I love techno! And I do think I'm good, though I'm sure I'll be better when I'm 50, since I can only get better with practice, and I plan to dance all my life.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Some words are hiding places for truth
Some words are hiding places for truth,
Keeping out the uninitiated before
They hurt themselves on the sharp edge of meaning.
Keyless, they sweetly dance outside the door,
Not guessing that they are blind to height and depth,
Content to worship the cliche before them.
And then. One day a sly wind steals your breath
And drops the key at your feet. You explore
What you once thought you knew; you finally hear
The secret song, see the under-painting.
You know too much to tell. The truth is so clear,
But the word is so small, and just saying
It out loud isn’t enough to make them
Feel the exhausting world contained within.
Keeping out the uninitiated before
They hurt themselves on the sharp edge of meaning.
Keyless, they sweetly dance outside the door,
Not guessing that they are blind to height and depth,
Content to worship the cliche before them.
And then. One day a sly wind steals your breath
And drops the key at your feet. You explore
What you once thought you knew; you finally hear
The secret song, see the under-painting.
You know too much to tell. The truth is so clear,
But the word is so small, and just saying
It out loud isn’t enough to make them
Feel the exhausting world contained within.
 |
| Pandora Opens Box by Sue Blackwell |
Monday, March 12, 2012
I loved
'You are my ghost', he whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my chilled wet skin. 'I love you', I replied, and I did. Those words, released from their silent prison, grew and expanded to fill the night and the universe, to reach all the stars and saturate my soul. I love you.
I hope I haunt him now.
He is in my heart, shriveled like a raisin with cowardice and playing games. But I still know the glory of the stars, the essence of the night. Not because I loved him, but because I loved.
I hope I haunt him now.
He is in my heart, shriveled like a raisin with cowardice and playing games. But I still know the glory of the stars, the essence of the night. Not because I loved him, but because I loved.
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