There are no more life shaping lessons from the often over-looked objects of desire. The obscure hero is gone. You are left to muse over the logic of the heart. How do you feel about the episodes of your life? It can all change in an instant with six little words: “Spells and Charms of Dragon Origin.” You may use these to bring on nervous affections of the brain, to round out the men of good intentions. But be warned, hero-hood will lead to loneliness and heartbreak. Yes, you will have adventures. They will be in search of simple keys and arcane women in distress. If you want to be rich, don’t buy this book.
wingtips April 1, 2011
Wingtips frayed from beating air
Buoyed up I can see what I wish
I had already known
Junkyards stacked like Jenga
Filled with must-haves
Bent away from intents
Trunks with holidays and families
Floating, I can see treetops
And sunlight before it’s filtered.
Flowers are polka dots for toddlers
And romantic walks that end in tragedy.
Someone has to do die.
What comes in between?
Rushing wind brings energy
Above the graveyard
Lives growing downward
Shoots sent sideways
Gifts lay on grass as if we could
Reach through the tangle
Time is lost being sorry
For a history
Blinded Love January 22, 2011
My Love, my love for you has grown,
But how and why do I lie for you
aaaaahere and now
With the thorn of your absence pressed
aaaaato my side
Once when the sunlight flooded the blinds
aaaaaat your face
You stepped away, you ran your hands
aaaaaover that place
aaaaaand left them there
I reached for your fingers and plied
You closed your eyes before I was done
aaaaalike a guard from my expression
I kissed your lashes, they fluttered
You held me to your breast
Then left on your quest to run from yourself
But I never saw the scar that you feared
I cried at the beauty of the man that I love.
2010 in review January 3, 2011
Thank you to all my lovely readers!!!!!!! 🙂
The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:
The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.
A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 4,600 times in 2010. That’s about 11 full 747s.
In 2010, there were 55 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 73 posts. There were 11 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 2mb. That’s about a picture per month.
The busiest day of the year was February 18th with 102 views. The most popular post that day was The Treasure Stone.
Where did they come from?
The top referring sites in 2010 were jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com, facebook.com, WordPress Dashboard, contentrobot.com, and thursdaypoetsrallypoetry.wordpress.com.
Some visitors came searching, mostly for lauren otheim poetry of the soul, lauren otheim, i dont belong here poem, lauren otheim poestry of the soul, and lauren otheim, poet.
Attractions in 2010
These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.
The Treasure Stone February 2010
The dreamer August 2010
36 comments and 3 Likes on WordPress.com
About me… May 2009
Can I help you? July 2010
Once Upon A Pair Of Skinny Jeans August 2010
33 comments and 3 Likes on WordPress.com
Artic Chill December 23, 2010
Stepping into my room is like entering Antarctica
A lone island separated and cold
The temperature drops from the rest of the house
And I wonder if I wouldn’t rather have the smaller, warmer place.
After all, Hawaii attracts more people than Antarctica ever did.
But in the daytime the polar ice caps create
There are mountainous regions to explore
With frozen tundra of which I am the lone inhabitant
Surrounded by a sea-filled multitude of ideas.
I watch the blue whales frolic in the corkscrew crest of foam.
Thank you Jingle for the Perfect Poet award of week 35!
For week 36 I would like to nominate The Fool’s Back Pocket. A wonderful poet with a fresh sense of the world, please visit!
Empty November 17, 2010
I feel empty. Shell shocked.
I am making myself move my fingers to type these words
Forcing them to go through the motions
Hoping motion will create meaning.
I thought this would be worse
The moment when I realized that I would have to let you go.
I thought I would cry large elephant tears that would slide slowly down my face until they turned into a torrent.
I thought they would fall faster and faster until everything beyond the iron wall of emotion was scarred and blurred into submission. Then I would no longer see the things around me that gave life meaning and I could weep until I felt worn out, beaten to sleep by tears.
Instead I sit here.
Staring at the wall.
I did not need to be blinded from significance.
It simply lost its meaning.
I feel as if a giant hand reached inside my body and hollowed me out and I contemplate stepping in to my stomach, right foot first, and pulling myself in inch by inch. Press me flat and roll me in to a ball so I can be stood by the door like a sleeping bag. I will collect dust there.
This emotional genocide was not an individual dying off of each part. I did not have time to say goodbye to each mechanism as it withered.
It was an atom bomb. A sudden explosion that decimated what feelings I had left and created an utter waste land. There is nothing left to see, so I no longer do.
I wonder what a breeze feels like in the barest sense of the word. I wonder in the pitted shadow of discussion. It is a question posed for the world in words only, swept away if it ever did come up.
I silently wish for the torrent that would grant rest and refresh.
Sea Song October 20, 2010
I am a ship lost its moorings
Floating: up up up up in the air
Until I find my head too heavy
And I sink bulwarks down
Eyes closed, body listing to one side
I am still for a minute, maybe two
Until it seems certain I will fall
Suddenly a breath of wind lifts my sails
And I float again: up up up
Eyes clear and then glazed with sea salt
Barnacles coat the skin of my dreams
Armor against myself and the world.