tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35385402008-05-22T21:32:15.759-04:00Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-52709165080060796032008-03-04T18:23:00.005-05:002008-03-04T18:32:12.669-05:00

---------------------------------------------------dancing atop akashic records we flow through time two psyches entangled playing a divine song of yin and yang through untold lifetimes of storm and stress joined by a contract signed when creation began so here we are in this life facing off yet again pushed and pulled in a roundabout what will we have learned this time will we run as we

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-19900091591596377952008-02-27T19:51:00.002-05:002008-03-29T10:10:46.600-04:00

It's not where I'm going or where I've been that matters it's really more the here and now-ish that can't be evaded missteps can't be retaken the holes ahead are lying in the dark I'm standing in the pure light of the moment strung between a memory and a dream whatever I think I've learned unravels as the day unfolds following the shadows before me brings only knowledge of my ignorance

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-10927771666768366152008-02-14T20:25:00.004-05:002008-02-14T20:34:01.919-05:00

The shift occurs suddenly, almost without warning; and the marrow stirs - awakened to the moment's possibility, and possibly, the long-awaited. The permeable heart, soaking up the radiant swells, vibrating in the center of everything; is there now - hidden beneath the snow-covered bank. Knowing its time has arrived; pushing through layers, pressing against the inevitable - a joyful breaking. ©

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-46839433436917363522008-02-07T21:48:00.000-05:002008-02-07T21:57:11.790-05:00

Off to my right a stained yellow disc pinned to the blue-grey sky still high above the trees small towns and cities this daily trek pushing against the others accelerating and braking I watch the moon waft before me behind the cell tower above the McDonald’s perched atop the gentlemen’s clubs the car lots and warehouses its pale light

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-58164329622239281512007-08-09T20:53:00.000-04:002007-08-09T20:58:05.839-04:00

perched on the bridge of my nose a transitory stance a question put forward stroll through the antique district shop windows staged with dainty scenes cast in exquisite Spode motifs floral ballets across porcelain and ceramic tableaux enchanting but the lust is missing the roar of engines and trains trombone and clatter the sky dotted with birds concrete and asphalt feverish in the

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-36550653253180735162007-06-16T10:53:00.000-04:002007-06-16T11:03:27.123-04:00

"It is such a secret place, the land of tears." ~~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry liberation seems so close the last wall of fear beginning to crumble the ego scrambling to rebuild repairing the chinks as the crisis nears on the clearest morning the sky suddenly curdled and dumped its yield upon asphalt ribbons stretched between places through places arteries pumping from the hub it is almost the

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-67043209538557707752007-05-10T21:01:00.000-04:002007-05-10T21:11:19.022-04:00

"Sometimes the light’s all shining on me, Other times I can barely see. Lately, it occurs to me what a long strange trip it’s been" (J. Garcia) The stars pulsing in the deepening blue sea guided me through the configured life. The archer loosened his arrow, and tethered, I flew behind; assessing the hand which lent me sorrow - my mother’s yield; a saddened brood, talented yet

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-62865753038912597672007-04-16T05:14:00.000-04:002007-04-16T05:19:35.768-04:00

“My words trickle down from a wound that I have no intention to heal...” ~~Paul Simon life is a series of stubbed toes the result of careless jesters hardened stances that melt under scrutiny small defiances the glare when someone demands to know fine tuning my sensitivities maintaining the vertical capacity an infinite number of collisions with positional obtrusions staring at the far field

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1164507933848621322006-11-25T21:20:00.000-05:002006-11-25T21:26:24.116-05:00

Joyful escape across the marshes to a barrier island village place of spirituality and peace respite for the soul renewal for the senses solitary ease along the sidewalk indulgences of the purse seaglass chips smelling of rain matte translucence of cobalt emerald palest green used bookstore poetry dreambook dayandnight sterling figures dangledancing with moonandstars oceanic

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1156987995759888492006-08-30T21:22:00.000-04:002006-08-30T21:35:56.453-04:00

Saturday morning at the Biltmore, early breakfast in the courtyard; the burbling fountain - soothing and incessant. Attractive waiters solicitously refill my coffee and orange juice after every sip. Saltilla-tiled patios, strategically placed orchids, and elevated palms (bird netting stretched across the opening a few stray feathers mutely screeching); the young men fussing with the immaculate

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1154566734825312332006-08-02T20:50:00.000-04:002006-08-02T20:58:54.830-04:00

The stem is bowed - the petals shriveled. All seems wasted and soon to dissolve. Yet deep inside; a spark composing - a fallow ground staying for the precedent of embryonic flowing into primitive resurrection. A froth of wings flutter against sweeping azure reaching across the eye’s canvas. Its clement weeping enfolds the earth in transparency; stippling the landscape with

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1150501830417451762006-06-16T19:41:00.000-04:002006-06-16T19:50:30.426-04:00

within a perfect silence I heard the world around me a train’s distant clatter a cricket rasping its legs the television in the next room thunder overhanging the roof deeper in that silence I heard a beauteous song a weightless voice meandering through the whispers of a lilted instrument the words too faint to unravel catch a loose thread pull it towards me deepen the entrancement one day I

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1142475322155763872006-03-15T21:09:00.000-05:002006-03-15T21:15:22.156-05:00

always someone singing this time of day to a sad soul guitar twanging ‘bout someone done done me wrong thang mournful as the mute skies tilt-heavy and oozing the anguished utterings distilled from the sorrow flicking the windshield with a misty shudder on a day like this who needs an excuse to be sad let the raindrops mingle with the tears set free the tears held back too long let them

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1133835850138252492005-12-05T21:15:00.000-05:002005-12-05T21:24:10.150-05:00

The path in front of me leading away from the things I know, into an obscurity I can barely sense as I place one foot in front of the other. Impetus unknown. Snared inside a transformation unfinished. Doesn’t seem as if I can hurry the process. I fear the darkness - but that’s all I can see. I felt the build up - a small anxiety gnawing in the corner. My past splintered. My

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1132280916607102562005-11-17T21:20:00.000-05:002005-11-17T21:30:01.893-05:00

A brilliant pearl tree-tangled low in the sky exhaling a sigh of peace. Her white medicine washes terra firma, filling every hollow with the promise of ascension. © 2005 Melissa Songer

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1131072843797768762005-11-03T21:52:00.000-05:002005-11-03T21:54:03.810-05:00

I can’t get enough of this postcard sunset off to my right while rushing amid the others. Trying to shake off the day’s residue - juggled deadlines and mixed messages; I’m wishing for a softer moment. Half the fireball gleams through openings in the scrub, live oaks and pines; the horizon swathed in pink and violet. Half an eye straining for the peripheral flare as the sun disappears.

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1131070928190016802005-11-03T21:20:00.000-05:002005-11-03T21:22:08.200-05:00

Every day around four they come to stare at me; follow me around the house expectantly - as if to say - it’s time to go now. I know it, but always stretch it out another hour or so until they are in a frenzy - Rosie tossing her head like a filly and Rocky spinning - a polka-dotted dervish. They trip me up before I can even get to the door as they yank me into the street. The

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1127387522369990792005-09-22T06:54:00.000-04:002005-10-14T20:14:22.786-04:00

A numinous kindling is rarely solacing or graceful - it is a marauder galloping with guns brandished, stampeding across familiar territories; frightening the indigenes as they flee to the safety of their huts. Only to be driven out by the flames of the cleansing - wreathes of smoke drifting across the range. It’s not as if the movement is a steady advance like a river

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1117977632047624772005-06-05T09:17:00.000-04:002005-10-14T20:15:04.463-04:00

Interminable unfurling, the empty husk still clinging to the temporal edifice; waiting for the liquid veins to congeal and extend, fanning out the papery hue-filled wings. The cobalt space gathers florescence to explore, rainbows to belay. In the final hour of metamorphosis, the anticipation is sharpest, cutting through the remnants of our hopes, razors skimming across the rind’s

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1115516339558311952005-05-07T21:30:00.000-04:002007-10-30T07:55:01.938-04:00

She always said you had to push a man and that’s why Dad was so good - from all she expected of him. She took credit where credit was due, I guess. He did so much for her, for all of us... He didn’t seem to mind, didn’t go off with his friends to drink or carouse. He took her fishing instead. I remember when he had a good job at a nuclear research lab way out in the country. He could fix

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1115377392051672932005-05-06T07:02:00.000-04:002005-10-14T20:15:37.740-04:00

the ground is steady it is I who wobble my eyes aren't crossed and my tees aren't dotted but I wonder how to move beyond the silly thought and find the tiny spook who stopped whispering the gathering moss has surrounded me I'm far behind the game I looked up and laughed at the shadow it was mine all attached though it tried to get away I pointed at the landing where the ducks went down to play

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1113087083892464452005-04-09T18:48:00.000-04:002005-10-14T20:15:54.703-04:00

I could never name the wall that burgeoned before me though I knew it intimately blindly fingering the roughened surface unable to penetrate its fissures I could never see it hurtling towards me until I found myself splattered across its blanched and merciless stones before crumpling to the floor I named myself stupid and careless and undeserving for daring to breathe happiness in a sheer

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1111503647281047242005-03-22T10:00:00.001-05:002008-04-28T21:24:10.111-04:00

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1111361939564701552005-03-20T18:37:00.000-05:002005-10-14T20:16:11.993-04:00

Eyes in the sea; dual pinpoints flashing amongst the rolling waves. Tumbled feathers loll beneath the cloud bundles - the wind forces itself upon me. The remedy exquisitely crafted. A balm sweetly steeped; its fragrance curled across my lip. Smoldering upon the tongue; the dream gently ruffled. Partaken to the ease the emptiness. A piquancy sharp and sweet, of what is seen and felt; of people

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3538540.post-1110336276587342232005-03-08T21:41:00.000-05:002005-10-14T20:16:26.830-04:00

Though I've let go of many things sometimes things won't let go of me and I find one day when I'm cruising along without a sense of guilt or loneliness that the next millisecond brings me face to face with a part of my life I thought was long past It might be a former acquaintance or an ex-spouse who in some flip of fate reaches out to tweak my conscience or subtly twist my arm by making an

Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530140782266649082noreply@blogger.com