Trapped – Theme Friday

The days have passed but I am still captive
still trapped in the throes of betrayal –
Still swayed by confusion

Mislead by the gods of my desire
I wanted to be loved and
how fortuitous was our reconnection
Enchanted even…

You made the sky brighter
and gave the sun sparkle

making the world
so lovely to be in

Why wouldn’t I give up everything
For the joy of  you?
And I did

But the nearer we came to
the end of the journey
the beginning of the new life we planned
the more miles grew between us
until life was a tunnel
A frigid subterranean path to nowhere

Your eyes spoke ice
and your mouth, kept prisoners your words
Ones you were too cowardly to say
and I was too fearful to hear

And I lived with my dread
of news days
and vacant hours where silence hung
like shadowed specters armed against breach

Trapped in a world
of ancient trees and total strangers
No friends
No money
Nothing to busy hands or mind
And you didn’t help
I was a burden
the poor investment
that you resented
and offered cold shoulder to

And on frequent walks
For secret cigarettes I asked God,
Why does love cut so much?

And I tried and tried but in the end
was utterly defeated by friendly fire
No allies nor weapons to consecrate me

My fairytale dreams died a wailing
silent death and hollowed me
from the inside out until I was empty
And I could be trapped no more

copyright 2010

What trap has Christine been caught in?
Can Clancy be freed from her trap?

Teeth – Theme Friday

Teeth scare me. Could it be because of the dreams????

The dreams, the dreams that conjured screams
Chasing teeth that gave me grief
Grating, biting, nipping and grinding
All the while looking and finding
My little girl fear of a darkened room
Seeking to consume me amid the gloom
Oh teeth, bad teeth what do you want?
What foul plaque and breath you flaunt
Granny drowned you in a glass
But then you went and kicked her ass

Dental specter you haunt my guilt
And eat away with the plaque you built
You chase and chase and won’t relent
And couldn’t care less about the bucks I spent
To make you kind and smile bright
To give you strength when you need to bite
To keep your gums soft and pink
With copious rinses lined on the sink
You ache and clench you nasty wench
And wake me from a peaceful sleep
Forcing promises I just can’t keep
The floss, the brush, paste and gel
Won’t release me from dental hell

Oh teeth, bad teeth one day you’ll see
That it was wrong to mess with me
I’ll save my money to pull you out
And glue in falsies with dental grout
So just behave and do your job
Or you will face the final lob

Copyright 2010

what has Christine sunk her teeth into?

is Clancy hanging by the skin of her teeth?

Detour – Theme Friday

The sign up ahead on the road heading south cautions, detour.

From three scattered lanes our vehicular alter egos squeeze into one obedient column. We crawl up the single mountain lane – second-gearing behind behemoth 18-wheelers, cursing in hydraulic hisses.

Skimming sheer rock-face of crude red design while shunning the100 foot drop into endless canyon just to the left.

Swallowing the adrenaline that churns fear and impatience, we wind with the curves that forecast unknown treachery.

And the vastness of nature reveals our insignificance – humbles our arrogance in the mumble of prayers that implore God’s hands to nudge us toward safety.

The sharp autumn sun becomes slate shadow, forbidding illumination in our progression and artificial light is a ghostly guide.

When the mountain relents and the road opens again, a communal breath at last escapes. And we break apart like dominoes poorly placed. Now strangers in singular journey, on the same road, but heading in different directions.

copyright 2010

Where has the detour led Christine?
What detour has Clancy encountered?

Once Upon a Time – Theme Friday

Once upon a time a thousand hurts clung to me.
My cloak of pain stooped low my shoulders and endured the weight of velvet yards

In a dream of deep-filled space I floated

And the moonlight sparkled my hurts in magnificent refraction
Revealing the beauty of jealousy, confusion, fear, and sorrow.

Exquisite the dream that showed me the breadth and depth of each with such clarity.

So I could know the five senses of each and watch them shimmer to dissipation of particulate light. Scattering to the stars to find a home.

One by one I set them free until the cape was no more and iridescent wings fluttered in emergence. And the stars grew nearer and fluttering wings sounded around me…

I knew again my own heartbeat and heard the silence of my own thoughts.


I was free.

Copyright 2010

Christine’s and Clancy’s once upon a time…

Symbol – Theme Friday

There are no magic signs
or Autumn season
of the mystery of the cross of Christ 
And the queen of the heavens
offers no place for sleeping angels

A human being can
change or transform her life
and with courage and daring
choose between good and evil
Keep inside
jealousy and sorrow
and know the danger signs
that lead to
a life of
sky obscured
that makes a mirage of the soul
that is not safe for strangers
(Do not take this road
bad tempered people live here
We have already been (t)here

Wearing the bright prospect of
faith, hope and love
can be the genesis of
Heaven and happiness
Where creativity and
good fortune
is divine power and
the elixir of life
Here, there are friends
and calm
for ordinary angels

Copyright 2010

Christine is being symbolic

What symbolism strikes Clancy?

People – Theme Friday

People without words
don’t hesitate to speak
Sounding vanilla –
sweet and unoffensive (but not satisfying and reminiscent of a spinster aunt)

Always doing the right thing
conveniently written out in the
right magazines and periodicals
(Good grades and good genes put them at the front of the class)
And believing their professors –
never once questioning a
or exclamation mark

They drink up the kindness
of others (so very thirsty)
but are last
to pass it on…
And when they do, the act
lacks a fundamental ingredient (like potato salad without onions)

Perfect smiles made of
straight white teeth
And nails buffed into proper manicure
But (their) children make them
and raise them fearful of consequence (please play nice, Johnny!)

People without words
say a lot of nothing (the kind of nothing that sounds so good unless you listen)
knowing deep-down they
nothing to say.

copyright 2010

Where are Christine’s people?

Clancy’s people abound…

Sunset – Theme Friday

People think that L.A. is
all smog and movie stars
chatter and multiple piercings
freeways and condos
tinsel and glitter

But they don’t know about
night blooming jasmine
orange, lemon and grapefruit trees
endless green hills
canyons in camouflage
cool ocean breezes

They don’t know that
we wait for the sunsets
The certain bruising and inflaming of
the evening sky
and its wheel of never-ending colors

Until night’s curtain
pushes aside the day for
frogs, possums
and coyotes
the background music
that emerges us in restful

copyright 2010

christine’s sun sets  here

clancy is watching the sun here

Dented Can – Theme Friday

I used to laugh at the losers hovering outside the dollar store begging for change. “Get a job,” I muttered and never saw the person.

I used to complain when the shopping cart bridgade made early morning raids on the recyle bins—rummaging for dented cans and plastic bottles.

I used to think it could never happen to me – I was too smart, too talented and too connected.

I used to blow money on things I didn’t need or even want. But because I could – I deserved them – I could always get more money next week…

I used to throw away food because it didn’t look good, wasn’t the right color or cooked the way I liked it.

I used to go out with friends for drinks, cover charges and food we didn’t eat so some guy might ask for my phone number.

I used to be rude because I didn’t need help – I could take care of myself and I wasn’t a slacker or a moocher.

And then
it all fell to shit
I had nothing and no one
Pride stopped deciding
what work I would do
what food I would eat
who mattered…

It was the worst thing that ever happened to me and and yet somehow the best.

copyright 2010

Christine is kicking her can

Clancy’s can is rolling

Mile Marker – Theme Friday

The desert – open, vacant and beautiful in its desolation. Only the mile markers speak of your progress toward civilization. You could close your eyes and just drive and open them to see the same expanse of sand and heat rising off the blacktop for endless miles.

But the endless miles let you think. Let you ponder. Let you run and rerun that which you seek to escape. All the bad. All the misery. All the vestiges of a life gone wrong. Let’s you contemplate how life will be different in the new place. Because new is good – it’s a fresh start and clean slate. Because you have learned from your mistakes and by so doing deserve a second chance.

Mile marker 943 – sand and cactus still rule and stretch further still. You can see for miles in the flat unchanging terrain and music and air conditioning are your best friends. Truckers with whom you share the road, angels in disguise and a presumed safety net if you get into trouble.

It takes a certain amount of trust to point yourself toward lands unconquered and life unknown. Or stupidity. Only time and experience can tell. And the mile markers lead the way – one mile at a time.

copyright 2010

How many miles does Christines marker mark?
How many miles before Clancy gets her cup of joe?

Comfort Food – Theme Friday

The Comfort Food Café, stood in blistering sun, in need of a paint job and a new sign. But inside, oh my, what delights awaited the weary traveler who wandered off the interstate in search of sustenance. Like me.

It was the hottest day of the year and the blacktop on the interstate gave off wavy steam, as I imagined my tires melting and becoming one with it. The old chevy’s air conditioning crapped out years before and I never thought to fix it until days like today. Of course that took money—a commodity I rarely possessed for any length of time. In fact, I and my humble belongings were moving to Florida, lured by the offer of a lucrative job.

My goofy mutt Beau stood on his hind legs and leaned over the seat, panting in my ear. “Yes Beau, you’re thirsty. I hear you.” Beau barked once and wagged the stub of his tail. “I’ll bet you could use a Big Mac too, eh?” Which set him off to hopping around the back seat and giving his chewie what for.

The standard highway sign read ‘food and gas’ and we took the exit that would lead us, I hoped to some version of civilization. Coming to a stop at the bottom of the ramp I instantly knew that Beau was out of luck. Apparently Comfort, Texas had yet to be invaded by the fast food giant. I eyed my pooch in the rear-view mirror. “Maybe we should drive a little further?” But Beau already had his head out the rear window, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, the stub signaling his vast approval of Comfort.

I had nothing to lose and I was pretty certain I could at least find an iced tea and a hot dog at the gas station. We drove through open country, occasionally passing an abandoned factory or feed store, but the signs pointed us forward, assuring us that we should keep going. Eventually, I began to see small houses, mom and pop businesses on either side of the road and finally a gas station—although it was an unknown brand. When I pulled the chevy under the canopy an old fashioned clangy bell sounded and I could swear Gomer Pyle loped out to greet me.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said real slow and started to clean my windshield. “Fillerup?”

“Sure,” I said and looked around. “You have anything to eat around here?”

“We got a soda pop machine and a chip rack,” he said now moving to the rear windshield.

“Anyplace nearby I could get some lunch?” I asked, fascinated by his efficiency with a squeegie.

He looked up and grinned, exposing crooked but very white teeth. “Sure over to the Comfort Food Café.” He even pointed—a little startling since the place was right next door. It’s dull brown exterior seemed to make it appear and disappear at will.

“Ah,” I said. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it—we’ll settle up after you eat.” Gomer was smiling at Beau and my pooch acted like he knew Gomer all his life. “Nice dawg. Whacha call ‘em?”

“Beau,” I said mystified by their sudden love affair.

“Well, you can take ol’ Beau in the café with you. Marly don’t mind.”

And so off we went to an old diner in the middle of nowhere to eat God knows what.

Unlike the exterior, inside the café everything was lively. Country music wailed from the jukebox, waitresses shuffled between customers, and fry cooks moved to syncopated sizzle of cooking food. Nothing had smelled better to me in my life.

“Have a seat, hon,” a young waitress said and swooped by with arms loaded with plates.

Beau and I took a load off in a booth in the back and in a nanosecond, Marge appeared, pad and pencil at the ready. “What’ll you have, hon?”

I looked for a menu but there was none. “What have you got?”

“Whatever you want, hon. You like comfort food?” she asked.

“Sure, who doesn’t?”

“That whatever comfort food you like we’ve got,” she wasn’t kidding.

“Well…ah…” I had no experience with so much choice in a diner.

“Okay,” Marge said, “I’ll make it easy for you. We’ve got pie, cookies, cake, ice cream, pudding, grilled cheese, tuna melts, mac’n’cheese, hotdogs, hamburgers, chili fries, pizza, peanut butter ‘n’ jelly, tomato soup, chips, popcorn, rice crispie treats, mashed potatoes and gravy, baloney sandwiches, fudge, milkshakes, coke, sweet tea, waffles and white toast. We ain’t got no salads, no lean meats, no diet plates, no veggies other than the taters, no milk, no juice and nothing healthy.”

I got the idea that Marge had given that spiel many times to many a tourist much to their surprise, shock and delight. A free pass to eating bad. I ordered before she changed her mind or I woke up.

Soon my table was knee-deep in grilled cheese, chili fries, chips, homemade pudding, a chili dog and several types of cookies – oh and fudge. And Beau and I ate til we were ready to bust. Whatever we couldn’t eat, Marge wrapped up for the road. “I have to say Marge that was the best meal I ever had.”

“Well good hon, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I suspect you needed it, huh?”

Suddenly Marge looked a lot like Mother Theresa to me—wise and with eyes that could see through to your soul. I nodded. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

She patted me on the back and leaned down. “It’ll pass, hon. You wait and see. It’ll pass.”

I felt tears rising and turned my head. “Sure,” I said staring at the old cigar store indian standing in the corner, “things always do.” I dug for money in my jeans pockets.

Marge shook her head. “Keep it, hon, your bill’s been paid.”

“What?” I stood up as though that would help me identify my benefactor.

Marge pushed my doggie bag into my hands. “You have a safe trip now, you hear? I come back and see us if you’re ever back this way.” And I’m not sure how but Beau and I were outside and walking back to the chevy.

Gomer was nowhere to be found and I owed him for a tank of gas. I left a twenty on the counter inside and we climbed back into the chevy. Suddenly Gomer was at my window handing me a twenty. “You have a good trip you hear?”

“But what about the gas?” I asked.

“My pleasure ma’am. You and Beau take care, you hear?” And again Gomer went to the paralell uinverse from whence he came.

Beau and I went off to Florida but it didn’t work out and we headed back to California. But try as I might, I never again could find the Comfort Food Café and the magical people who lived there.

copyright 2010

What food is comforting Christine?
What comfort is Clancy getting from food?