This morning I picked up my cranky pants,
And put them on before I had a chance.
My brain was quite blurry,
In my morning hurry,
My only choice now, do the cranky-pants dance.
-me
This is a repost from 6 years ago, can you believe it? But I was inspired thinking about Dr. Seuss today and I remembered this old post. It’s not sophisticated, and yet…
Lately
My naked feet
Need contact
Is it spring
Or something else
Afoot
Elusive Real
A drive that seeps
Outside from in
My soft skin
Layers peeling
After this past winter’s
Dense protection
Revealing
Seeking sensitivity
That drives again
My soles
To go forth
To bare themselves
To leap
Lightly
Deliberately
Delightfully exposed
Connecting to all
Manner
Of manmade heat
Concrete
And coolness
Wildly growing
Lately
My naked feet
Need
…
-me
Painting: Walking Barefoot By William Whitaker
My heart thumped hard
Unwieldy inside my chest
Rapped and echoed wild against
These hardened hollow bones
Like a large crazed landlord
Demanding past due rent, or more
Desperate from the other side
Of his tenant’s deadbolt-door
-me
Painting by Daniel Carranza
I traveled alongside
A train today
And kept its speed awhile
For a moment we both
Seemed still and so
The world went hurtling by
-me
Painting by Nils Potting
I was there
when the clocks
stopped ticking
standing
with the soles
of my feet
sweating
and stuck
to the cold
tile floor
my lips parched
and parted
in that silent
gasp
before a scream
my eyes
frozen wide
unblinking
and dry
my memory melting
dreams dripping
from my ears
this embodiment
done
undetectable muscles
still twitching
some
I was there
a split second
aware of demise
that unwinding
of mine
with the ending
time
-me
Painting: Aghast by Troy Stith
I am joyful
In my discontent
Back to being
Militant
-me
Painting: Militant Kate Moss II
By Anna-Louise Simpson
On this dark night
As I strode back roads
She rose up strong to meet me
All haloed and smirking
Full-faced and reflecting
A distant body’s light
Her round mirror a reminder
She always remains
Whole and beautiful and cratered
Even when separated
From her dear sun or sliced
To sliver by his shadow
-me
I cannot carry
The weight of this world while I
Also shoulder grief
-me
Sculpture by Celeste Roberge
What is it that keeps me pinned
While holding back the rain and wind
Ropes tethering my tent to earth
Pull straight this tugging tarpaulin
What is it that keeps me tame
Performing every show the same
Dressed and dazzling under lights
My wild then shoved back in its cage
What is it that keeps me trapped
My face made up, my body wrapped
Twisting tumbling towards the ground
Feigning faith that ropes don’t snap
What is it that keeps me on
Directing rings, attention drawn
Announcing all the names and games
But pulling stakes before the dawn
What is it that brings us back
And keeps us traveling down the tracks
From this tiny town to next
The world we build during our act
-a.r.
Painting: The Circus by George Seurat
A repost after seeing “The Greatest Showman,” and after the joy I felt while watching it.
On the train I feel
Like I am nobody yet
Could be anyone
-me
Painting: Train Girl by Thomas Saliot
(This was written during my travels this weekend, before the tragic derailment this morning. My heart and thoughts are with those who lost loved ones, and with those who are injured.)
sometimesihatemycat 