Remember when I held the nori up to the sun, and our eyes were graced by that moss-green? The color stained our eyes for minutes as the seaweed crumbled from our lips. Salt made me crave water, but I didn’t reach for my drink. Instead, I asked you, “Isn’t this beautiful?” And you said, “Yes, it is.” I wanted to stare at it for hours, but you were “done” after one square of nori. You then said, “When I get older, I want to marry a Spanish Girl.” Before logic took over, I indulged in the fancy that one day you would marry. I didn’t mention the harsh realities or misconstrued negativities. I just laughed affectionately and said, “As long as she’s nice and loves you.”
I imagined her hair dark like mine. She’d love red lipstick but never wear it. And she’d wear ankle-grazing floral skirts made of long, gauzy fabric with puffy blue, pink, and yellow flowers. Blooms you could run your fingers against; roses you could get lost in. Perhaps her name would be Maria, and her tan hand would always reach for yours as you crossed the street. She would take care of you and love you, even after I left this Earth.
You grew impatient with my lingering and went inside to play with your dry erase markers or something. I let go of the fancy and watched you walk away. Maria went back to that vague place where particular thoughts crush my heart to a million pieces, and I lose a little each time it happens. She joined the thoughts of your future everything, your future anything.
Remember when I held the nori up to the sun, and our eyes were graced by the moss-green? That moment, those seconds? Life was certain, life was divine.
Set the cotton candy mounds ablaze;
transformed their blue haze
Tried not to look back at the bridge that
called so boldly out
Imagined me atop its railing;
set to spring forth up
Mind wandered to that dying bunny
in the yard we found
Heart sunk and wished I’d held it so it
wouldn’t be afraid
Today you checked on it. Still breathing;
its glassed eyes on the
Put it in a bag; tied it tight. To
end its misery;
Peeked on it later; its shut eyes now
at peace. Walked away
Have you grown weary of our clandestine
meetings? You seem impatient with all my
weeping. My tears getting mingled with my
drinking. Drops of salt make it taste better
anyway. The grief tastes sweet, begging to stay.
How long will it be? How long will this grief
remain? Tired of waking up sad mourning
in the morning. Would rather smile back at
you, something I’ve forgotten how to do.
Could we forgive us? Could we even try?
With hushed words in secret places in the
dark holes of our home; he waits and spies on
us. We stop our chatter and vow to try
tomorrow. Let our clandestine meetings
last. Let’s be strong. Let’s ruin this sorrow.
I want to build a house by the coal sea.
You say Mr. Take Awayer won’t find us
there by the dark sea that rocks us to sleep.
Mr. Take Awayer will wear a shabby
garb of white. You tell me he floats sideways
in the contrast of night. Always at night.
By the vast sea I pray his calls are drowned
out by the violent waves and rocky shore.
He beckons to deceive you far from me.
But you won’t hear him I promise. I swear.
I hope you’ll be happy, hope we are too.
When I build a house by the jet black sea
and every night have its torment sway us
to dreamland. Find comfort knowing it could
swallow us, forgetting this pain on earth.
Hidden afar from Mr. Take Awayer.
think it’s raining
it’s only my tears
hitting the hardwood
falling heavier than
I thought they could
they’ve taken on a
life of their own
my tear drops crying back to me
wanting to bring me home
my tear drops know that
I can’t even speak
can’t even pray
but they know
He knows my thoughts
I don’t have anything
new to say
all the while
thinking it’s raining
This week has been a rough one. I don’t even have a quasi figurative way of expressing myself right now. The whole situation just sucks! I wish a miracle would happen to take away my son’s intense aggression! I read a passage out of the Bible this morning and it explained my entire sad situation. This Psalm has been described as the saddest passage in the entire book. Do you agree?
Lord, you are the God who saves me;
day and night I cry out to you.
2 May my prayer come before you;
turn your ear to my cry.
3 I am overwhelmed with troubles
and my life draws near to death.
4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am like one without strength.
5 I am set apart with the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more,
who are cut off from your care.
6 You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.
7 Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
8 You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;
9 my eyes are dim with grief.
I call to you, Lord, every day;
I spread out my hands to you.
10 Do you show your wonders to the dead?
Do their spirits rise up and praise you?
11 Is your love declared in the grave,
your faithfulness in Destruction?
12 Are your wonders known in the place of darkness,
or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?
13 But I cry to you for help, Lord;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
14 Why, Lord, do you reject me
and hide your face from me?
15 From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
16 Your wrath has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me.
17 All day long they surround me like a flood;
they have completely engulfed me.
18 You have taken from me friend and neighbor—
darkness is my closest friend.
when you took my hand you let your fingers
linger on mine a little longer than usual
made me think you were saying goodbye
when you hold the hand
of a loved one that’s about to die
couldn’t be good news I’d think,
the way you just left me
watched you walk away
one part of me not caring
the other part wanting you to stay
moss tangled, lingering down their branches
beautiful, flowing ribbons of brown
rows and rows and rows of them
massive nest of that moss
ushered us out of the state
while the giant water storm
she spins and waits
coming back those tangled masses of feathery moss
looked more like decapitated heads
with their dried blood
and muddy footprints all around
the wind beaten ground
evidence that they fought
proof that they tried to run
a far cry from the trees we left behind
the ones with the beautiful crowns
standing tall, waiting for the change
caused a flood of memories to rush back to me
made me not want to return to my sunshine state
we did and here we are
44 hours we spent in that car
back to this
back to the same
red chameleon beckoned me out
entranced me with its glossy glaze
matched the blood that fell from me
walked past the broken grill
with the torn black cover
said hello to the baby leaves
let the purple tendrils wrap themselves
around my knees
“Stay with us forever!”
I pretend to hear them plead
What beautiful, caring creatures – I think
look up at the black
feel the moisture run down my back
marvel that it’s too humid to even breathe
watch the red chameleon crawl into
a place that I cannot go
we all can’t be Alice that gets to fall
into that glorious rabbit hole
look away – rip my eyes from its gaze
feel the purple tendrils unwrap their grip
from my knees
go back into my crumbling house
ignore their saddened stance
ignore their fictitious pleas
big stream of little tears
hands shaking off
the grieving left
but now I’m waiting
for it all to come back to me
God – please don’t let it
come back to me
let the child that I now see
i welcome a miraculous mystery