I watched him
in the cliche cafe
with my mispelt name on the side of my mocha latte
peering over my laptop
like a peeping Tom on a tree limb
His easy smile
stretched across his scraggly bearded face
his arm draped across the back of a chair
I hated that chair
wanted it to be me his arm was draped on
I swore his eyes caught mine
like a fly caught in a spider's web
I was locked in a memory
that never was
Or perhaps yet to be
Riding in a convertible
wind in our hair
him smiling with his arm draped across my back
laughing about the funniest things
destination unimportant
"PING!" notification from my mother
she wants to know if I can express her dog's anal glands
he likes to scoot his butt across her bed when they're full
Mr smiley beard gets up with his friend tossing away his cup
he turns, winks at the pretty barista, and walks away
My hair would've gotten knotted in a convertible
Bugs would've gotten in my teeth
my mocha latte would've ended up in my lap
or worse, in his lap causing him to wreck
his car and ruin his white linen pants
I pack up my laptop and head out
thinking how I dodged a bullet on that one
I need to control my sexiness or next time it might
cost some poor handsome bastard his life
I think I'll stop and get some grape juice on the way home
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Friday, April 17, 2015
My Father's Name
Kepano, The Wanderer. My Dad should have given me his name. It suits my wanderlust so well.
It is a primal need.
The actual physical need to get into salt water when Ke Kai, the ocean, calls out for my return.
The deepest part of my core being pulled, and there is no ignoring the call.
The Hawaiian blood that races in my veins demands to be satiated and subdued by the water's touch. It's like a riptide that searches me out to draw me back in.
It's not a choice. It is an absolute need. Like breathing.
The moment that the salty air hits my lungs, I change.
My skin opens up and breathes out my burdens.
My hair too unwinds it's tight curls and extends them in all their kinked up beauty
My feet touch the water, and Kai opens her arms enfolding me in her waves.
She heals me, calms me, soothes me, and cleanses my being
It starts in my back.
Like the strings of a delicate kite that is dancing on the wind, I am pulled.
Soaring ever upwards to the mountains.
Again, my soul has no choice but to move me.
The mountain is Poplcatepetl, and I, like Iztaccihuatl, missing him and dying in his absence
My fingers need to feel the soil crumble through them, and my lungs to drink in the crisp, clean air
The mountain wind blows, and my soul, now light of it's worries, takes flight.
It takes me through canyons, down ravines, and winds me through on a dance through with trees
The mountains cradle me. Rocking me with gentle breezes and the lullaby of nature's symphony.
The earth recognizes and recharges my spirit
When she beckons, I will answer always. Urgently. Gratefully.
My roots extend from ocean, through desert and swamp, and high up into the mountain tops.
I become restless like a wild caught tiger now housed in a zoo.
I must roam
Seek out silence and allow myself to be stilled
Hula under the light of a new moon
Nourish my hair in the ocean's salty brine
Swim with dolphins in the mornings
Run with wolves through the night
Play with fire like Xiuhtecuhtli and feel its spark burn within me
Discover new places, connect with the people and immerse myself in strange customs
I am a wanderer, a gypsy soul, a flower traveling on the wind
I am a nomad traversing the cities, waters, and forests like the native that I am
Those that try to hold me down only succeed in watching my back as I walk away
Those who understand, accompany me on my journey and add enlightenment on my path
There is also that treasured one that travels at my side
We are a tornado and a volcano.
Mesmerized, respectful and in full knowledge of each other's raw power,
strength, weakness and beauty.
Look for me on the wind, I am there.
It is a primal need.
The actual physical need to get into salt water when Ke Kai, the ocean, calls out for my return.
The deepest part of my core being pulled, and there is no ignoring the call.
The Hawaiian blood that races in my veins demands to be satiated and subdued by the water's touch. It's like a riptide that searches me out to draw me back in.
It's not a choice. It is an absolute need. Like breathing.
The moment that the salty air hits my lungs, I change.
My skin opens up and breathes out my burdens.
My hair too unwinds it's tight curls and extends them in all their kinked up beauty
My feet touch the water, and Kai opens her arms enfolding me in her waves.
She heals me, calms me, soothes me, and cleanses my being
It starts in my back.
Like the strings of a delicate kite that is dancing on the wind, I am pulled.
Soaring ever upwards to the mountains.
Again, my soul has no choice but to move me.
The mountain is Poplcatepetl, and I, like Iztaccihuatl, missing him and dying in his absence
My fingers need to feel the soil crumble through them, and my lungs to drink in the crisp, clean air
The mountain wind blows, and my soul, now light of it's worries, takes flight.
It takes me through canyons, down ravines, and winds me through on a dance through with trees
The mountains cradle me. Rocking me with gentle breezes and the lullaby of nature's symphony.
The earth recognizes and recharges my spirit
When she beckons, I will answer always. Urgently. Gratefully.
My roots extend from ocean, through desert and swamp, and high up into the mountain tops.
I become restless like a wild caught tiger now housed in a zoo.
I must roam
Seek out silence and allow myself to be stilled
Hula under the light of a new moon
Nourish my hair in the ocean's salty brine
Swim with dolphins in the mornings
Run with wolves through the night
Play with fire like Xiuhtecuhtli and feel its spark burn within me
Discover new places, connect with the people and immerse myself in strange customs
I am a wanderer, a gypsy soul, a flower traveling on the wind
I am a nomad traversing the cities, waters, and forests like the native that I am
Those that try to hold me down only succeed in watching my back as I walk away
Those who understand, accompany me on my journey and add enlightenment on my path
There is also that treasured one that travels at my side
We are a tornado and a volcano.
Mesmerized, respectful and in full knowledge of each other's raw power,
strength, weakness and beauty.
Look for me on the wind, I am there.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Down the Rabbit Hole
trapped
clawing at the cage
like an animal
wanting to break free
sleep
it is my one comfort
it is a nightmare
conveniently
love
it is a strong binding
heart wrenching
pit of despair
habit
unweilding hold
monkey on my broken back
punching at my head
pain
my constant companion
the one I can turn to
my creative muse
Down
down
further
away
clawing at the cage
like an animal
wanting to break free
sleep
it is my one comfort
it is a nightmare
conveniently
love
it is a strong binding
heart wrenching
pit of despair
habit
unweilding hold
monkey on my broken back
punching at my head
pain
my constant companion
the one I can turn to
my creative muse
Down
down
further
away
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
do you ever just want to scream?
scream so loud that your lungs vibrate inside your chest?
scream so deep that it brings to tears to your eyes?
not scream at anyone or anything
just scream
scream out all of the frustrations that have wrapped themselves around your soul
scream out all love and hate of yourself in its perfect imperfection
scream out the pain and the pleasure and the utter disappointments
scream yourself out until your voice is no more
scream until you can't feel the hurt and sadness
scream
scream so loud that your lungs vibrate inside your chest?
scream so deep that it brings to tears to your eyes?
not scream at anyone or anything
just scream
scream out all of the frustrations that have wrapped themselves around your soul
scream out all love and hate of yourself in its perfect imperfection
scream out the pain and the pleasure and the utter disappointments
scream yourself out until your voice is no more
scream until you can't feel the hurt and sadness
scream
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
In the use to be's
the smell of stale cigarettes and beer floating in the air with the mingling of desperation drenched sweat Kenneth Cole meet me out back for a line and some time....all to the rhythm of a hearfelt rendition of Jeff Healy's Angel Eyes. Me, cigarette in mouth, shooting pool, coasting on the melt with my black knee high boots and mini skirt...keeping a watchful eye on the DJ.
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