Saturday, August 27, 2011

southwest toe tapper

she was born into a unique dynamic
commotion and hoopla gave welcome among the house walls
she flapped her metal shoes on the polished, wooden floors
leaving traces of rhythm and released energy

the dog watched, very irked at the sound
his legs spread out, toenails scraping the couch pillows
her tongue rested upon her bottom lip
and her eyes faded in and out
she’d rather dream of alley cats

the egg frying heat was uninviting to the girl
her imagination would be better spent on the dance floor
near her was a piano, a drum set, a flute and the music player
today the chlorine and the stale air was at a distance

her mother stood at the kitchen sink
she wore yellow rubber gloves
and splashed water across the counters every time she got excited on the phone
“I can’t believe she said that,” her mother would say.
the telephone was her way to pass the time while preparing lunch
tortilla and eggs, mixed together with melted cheddar cheese
a mexican combination to bring culture to the kids
english was their only language
their last name was the only thing that gave a hint of their ethnicity

the girl didn’t pay notice to the noise coming from her size 8 feet
her mother could easily speak over her visionary beats
shuffle
flap
hope, brush step...hop
she was in a euphoric world
where every word was sung
and every woman wore glitter
hair glazed in pin curls

double irish
draw back, draw back, draw back
flap

there was a knock at the back door
through the glass was her neighbors nose
compressed against the door, looking in
her other half
wearing her bathing suit
towel in hand, dragging on the carport cement

the girl looked down at her tapping shoes
and glanced at her friend
she balanced on one leg, taking the right shoe off first
she set her shoes side by side on the wooden floor
she’d tap later


she ran outside to smell the chlorine
she looked up at the sun, feeling the stale air
“ok, today we’re mermaids and our father won’t let us explore the deep sea.”





Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Slumber

The dream is all about the dreamer...

Softly resting on the cotton sheets
I curl my toes up against my loves and wait for the warmth to soothe me
My eyelids shutter, and my mind soars
Shades of murky colors draw my attention
I begin to build castles in the air
Conjure up the events in my life
Make believe life is faultless
I ride along with my minds artistry
Whether it takes me to darkness or light
I pursue.

When it becomes somber, my heart races
My chest tightens and my palms begin to sweat
I'm curious as to what awaits me
What will I see, who will I see
What will my mind design
What kind of playground will I encounter
I will awake bewildered as to what kind of twisted things I create
Relief is my first emotion
Happy to be back in reality


The new night awaits me and I'm suspicious of the darkness
If I chant over and over to see the light
Maybe the darkness will rest
Sweet dreams.