I remember in the beginnig
we were just "going with the flow"
you planned a roadtrip
and kept the destination a secret
I remeber feeling elated, excited, alive
you pulled over next to a sunflower field
and I found myself, heart racing,
pushing through tall grass,
jumping a barbed wire fence
and returning with my prize
I remember that beautiful little town
how the next day,
you took me to the bird sanctuary
how I sat there admiring these creatures
how I envied their wings
I remember when all those ladybugs
dotted your car
How I felt like a child
waiting for each one to fly away
And later, finding a little lost lady
inside with us
how I wanted her to stay
how we cracked the window
and set her free instead
I remember wishing upon her beauty
and the next day at breakfast,
how I shrieked when a giant locust
crashed into my face
except it wasn't a locust
you reached over to reveal another
little dot lady and I squealed with delight
her little legs tickled my hand
at the tip of my pinkie she spread her
little wings and fluttered away
I remember we looked up her meaning
lady of luck, messenger of blessings to come
how I felt it could not have been
more perfect with you
And then the drive home,
Spotting yet another little lady
trapped inside your car
how we were already driving too fast
how she held on to the window's edge
how I urged her to fly
You suddenly pulled over
and I remember thinking it was
the sweetest thing of you to do
I remember telling the little lady she could fly
how I whispered goodbye when she did
how my heart surged with gratitude
while my eyes got warm and salty
how you pulled me to you
and how that kiss tasted like flying
I felt like the luckiest lady in the world
you called me your Lady Bug
I'll never forget it
*
THE WINGS OF SPIRIT
*
Fixed the bottle of scent...
Unbound her fragrance' ascent
Branched the nightingale
but her song to all ascends.
Moored tonight is the boat
but morn brings unfurled sails.
Earthbound the bodhisattva
but his aura spreads everywhere.
Amherst-circumscribed
was Emily's pen
but her poems to
distant lands took flight.
93 million miles away the sun
but his love left home
to give us light.
*
-saiom shriver-
*
Footnote: Bodhisattva..
1 a soul who chooses to come back
to earth to help others rather than
to be liberated
2 Emily is Emily Dickinson
3 dedicated to my 18 year old kitty Babaji
who left for God today
As of right now
I have nothing
But I do know one thing
That he is my everything
Being with him
Makes me feel like
A million bucks
Because he is my everything
And I know that I am his
That makes me feel amazing
Just to know that
Makes me wish I had wings
what makes me feel better
the only thing that does
Is knowing that he wants
To put a ring on my finger
And let the world know
That I am his
~Chrys
Written on
July 22, 2012
If I am to lose these eyes
Strip me then now of these lies
Take me to this darkness wonder
In harmony of the black of slumber
Forever to stay shut, anchored in a sea under
and yet though, I do not believe in such thunder
You can take me away from one thing
But I will find a way to still chirp and sing
You can take my legs and swallow love's promised ring
But I'll still find a way to flap a broken wing
And if I am to die..?
I can walk away, with open eyes.
A graveyard of dead trees
Fallen leaves of vast red and orange seas
Squirrels scurry before winter strikes
As children play while others pass on bikes
A harmony of the trees an the wind come together and sing
As a bird chirps then stops to clean it's wing
Children shrieking and screaming as they play
Angry armies of cars roar past, then fly away
Memories start of when I was a kid
Only broken away by time an what it did
Sitting still only in question
Of who I am and to what is my impression
I laughed . . . I played here
I was happy unknown of fear
But then reality again breaks memory's connection
Only to be lost again, still unknown of my reflection
2 knives, in each side..
2 eyes burning through my heart..
empty fragments, words drifting in & out of the past
memories turn to ash as we sift them around the palms of our hands..
crippled & gone.. time to move on.
to solidify my dreams..
hate myself.. waste of space, waste of air..
I dove into hell.
God please pull me back together, stitch up these ripped seams..
you're like the blade dragged across my stomach
or the scorching flame against my bare skin...
I want you out of my life
I want you up from under this skin
demons, demons, I can't let you win..
for I am not your kin...
everthing I want, I cannot have.
all that I reach for, I cannot grab..
the rainest of days bring me back to visions i've attempted to smudge out with you..
I guess it was easier on the other end.
but who's to say where & when...
covered in blood, pushed into the mud, I will stand up again.
open scars, out of breath, I must remain relentless.
shadows chasing me, run run, but they consumed all the light..
crouched in fright, nails dug into my back
they're trying to pin down these wings...
hoping i'll never take flight.
using all my energy to break away, fight them off with all my might, all my will...
but they keep whispering "kill... kill.."
legion, you've defiled me,
for you are the fallen, in unity.
this cross lays heavy on my back..
I think i'm starting to crack.
my barriers are thin & I wish I could let God in
but there's just one set of footprints in the sand
no savior to hold my hand
freezing cold.
the ocean looks like a black hole..
if I were to set sail, how could I ever return?
i'd be spun around in circles, triangles, squares
what would I learn?
even though the sun still shines
even though some of the grass is still green
even though there are plenty of trees
I cant stop looking down.. down on me.
the hail is sharp from this dark cloud.
storm hovers above.
I try to clear it out, but I can't with no love
depleted but not empty
awakened in the midst of deep sleep
dead in this life
strife impailed
left hung, waiting to burn..
I never dug my own grave
I only ever cried to be saved.
There was once a girl,
born with wings.
who flew with falcons,
and oversaw all things.
This beautiful maiden,
with hair like golden silk.
lips like that of plush peaches,
and skin like a glass of milk.
Her wings shone white,
against the sky.
And to watch this girl soar,
could make grown men cry.
She only wore white,
the sheerest of gowns.
Her feet slightly dirty,
a light shade of brown.
She looked like an angel,
Or a Goddess maybe.
Who could dart past a plane,
quicker than the can see.
She Who Was Born With Wings,
was a legend among men.
Who sang them songs of old,
and laughed among them.
However alas she couldn't set,
her feet upon the ground.
For if she did her wings would implode,
without a single sound.
So she was forced to fly alone,
for 20 years in days.
Until she was blessed with a mate.
At least thats what they say.
His wings were black as night,
and turned blue when she was near.
And every night above your head,
their love song you could hear.
These two beautiful beings,
cursed as they were to forever fly.
Were happier than any on the ground,
or those within the sky.
They wished their children,
not to have the same.
To be able to walk among men,
and indulge in child's games.
So when children came,
they were laid on roofs.
Thought to be a an orphan,
which had a ring of truth.
But alas the golden winged girl,
grew old and died with her mate.
But their legend is still spread wide,
up until this very date.
And though we may not believe,
or ponder at such things.
There are still those solemn few,
who dream of She Who Was Born With Wings.
I want to be the girl that flies
With crystal wings
Across blue skies
Untouchable
From down below
Always knowing
Where to go
I want to be the girl that lands
And this girl is greeted
With outstretched hands
I want my friends to keep me safe
From that scary lonely terrible place
I want to be the girl that dances
She’s not afraid of taking chances
She’s been burned
But she’s not shy
I want to be the girl that flies
Spiralling down, the world turns sideways;
If only it would stay still I could arrange my thoughts.
Take what you own to pay for your own funeral,
A paralysed catharsis,
Trying to crawl its way into living.
A second hesitation hanging on a trip wire,
The explosion comes before the paranoia.
To fight such weak and juvenile demons,
Is an effort wasted instead of walking way.
Saying sorry for sorry's sake:
The changeling reverting to another seed.