Wonderland Dreamers

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A collection of lost souls
Caught up in individual woes

Rags to riches
Riches to rags
The dreamers of wonderlands
Looking only at what they have

Revenge curls the ends of the black hair
As he kisses her tight
Life of misery
A life of blithe

Up high they wander
Up high at night

Singing songs of the ancestors
Dancing while smoking their pipes

Painting the sky with dusted stars
Cross my heart
Play the games of the wandering souls
But you’ll never understand the troubles or woes

Truth in her Palm

vin

After midnight
The sun rested
The moon awake

Nocturnal lullabies calm the fearful
Percussion vibrations liberate the willful
Bass

Count to ten and start again
The motions of the liberal

She will kiss him on the cheek
Intentions discrete
But the truth lies within her palm
Seduction and all joyfully wrong

Her mate passes without a clue
Her loyalty anew
The man at which she holds the hand
Is not her lover too

Baring skin in a game that no one wins
Temptation is devils play
Numinous affairs as the two of them lay

Between them only sheets
Kisses that are not so discrete
And a love that holds no emotion
Unattached with no devotion

As the sun awakes
And the moon has had its day
She will return to the loyal hand
Only to think of the other man

Her secrete will lie with her to rest
But her heart will always be off set
Troubling the mind
Walking blind

Forever in his debt

Recycled: “Fairy Tale”

Fairy Tale

 

 

 

A poem about a love lost by distance, Fairy Tale.

London

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Kissed her lips in the bitter cold
Her hands in his pockets to rid the bite of frost
There was no rush to get home

So they continued to walk

Heals clicked on the cobble stone
As music notes around them dance

“Você é linda”

The bells tolled
But in the moment they were lost
One that could never mock

Feet lifted and flown
Floating on air at first glance

“Tu és o meu amor”

A love that was bold
Two paths graciously crossed

She left her heart in London
She left

her

heart

“Eu vou sempre me lembrar de você”

Playing with Fire

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Dear mother why haven’t you warned me
I keep on playing with fire to cure the lonely
Needed to keep warm but can’t get to close
Stepping nearby and beginning to provoke

Illusions dance in the flames
Shadows and sights- difficult to not embrace

See what you want to see in the golden blaze
Overlooking the pain of the inferno
Begin to saunter closer in a daze
Bit by the fire and embers glow

How does the toxic air taste?

The ribbons of red will never set you free
And forever you will be reminded by scars of agony

Dear mother I wish you would have taught me
This would be painless to foresee
Being cold will send you shivers
And anything is better than those embers
That the fire will blow into its storm

Wicked

leaves
The windows were open bringing in the movement of the night
This chill in the air sends shivers up the spines of the wicked
And calms those who are kind
Let the wind blow and welcome autumn.
Let the wind make it right

“Hey Mr Brown Eyes don’t let your whole life pass you by”
She whispered in his ear before the summer had departed
“I won’t as long as you’re by my side”
He responded so lighthearted

Summer came and gone
Like the peaking waves at dawn
Just like the season he’s vanished and turned shy
Not knowing its ok to no longer be her guy

For its autumn that blows in all the fury
Makes the air crisp and freezes the worry
There’s no need for the summer light
When all that brings fright is slumbering well into the autumn night

Let that cool air bite every time she’s reminded of those eyes
Because like playing with fire there is no compromise
Remember the grasps of air while she pulled on his hair
Love is a game that is not fair

Let the wicked be wicked
And the kind be kind
For it’s the changing of the seasons
No reasons
No rye

Why He Cheated: An Interview with an Ex

cheatThe whitful bold lies would slip out of his mouth like an actor that’s mastered the art of memorization. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone in the world, cheating is a knife in the heart. After being in a relationship for four years I couldn’t help but wonder, “Have I ever been cheated on?” There was this constant curiosity of why he hasn’t come home and who it is that keeps on calling. “It’s my boss.” “I’m having drinks with my dad.” And my ultimate favorite, “She’s just my lab partner” (from the school he was lying about attending). I was always someone to give the benefit of the doubt, maybe it’s the political scientist in me that truly believed in “innocent until proven guilty” or in this case “innocent until he left his email up and I saw the messages exchanged between him and girls on his secrete e-harmony account.” I’m no longer bitter, but after three years of being broken up I can’t help but still wonder why he did it. And the answer ladies and gents, he’s scum. Even knowing that, I called him up to find out. It wasn’t a heated conversation. There was no name calling or tears falling because after all of this I know I’m a better person than when I was with him. I just simply asked him, “why?”

His responses did not come as a shock to me, in fact they provided me with reassurance. “I can’t be with one girl for that long. I get bored.” –he told me. I then asked him how many girls he has cheated on, “I’ve cheated on almost every girl I’ve been with.” The responses were very honest and blunt. It’s not that he is proud of it, but he does continue to say that it’s in his nature. Things began to get even more personal. He was telling me about each individual relationship and where it went wrong, “At first it went well and then I fucked her over. I ended up going out more and sleeping with other people and thought, ‘shit I miss the single life.’” This was the most recent. He told me how he treated her like a queen at first, was totally in love. Then, things became mundane so he decided to make it interesting by treating his once-upon-a-time-princess like motel art, something that he saw only occasionally. This reminded me much like our own relationship, pin pointing exact moments where I began to notice his lack of interest.

Spite was another reason he began to cheat. With another girl, “… there was a part in our relationship where I did think she was cheating on me… out of revenge I started cheating on her, maybe ten times.” I ended our conversation with his beliefs, asking him if he believed in relationship Karma, “I do, what goes around comes around.” He paused after, as if he knew karma was watching him over his back, lingering for the perfect moment to cause him the pain he has caused others.

I no longer wonder why I was cheated on. Deep down I had a feeling that it wasn’t about me but his own insecurities. My advice to others: follow your instincts, recognize all the red flags, and understand that most the time it isn’t about you. Life after Branden isn’t tragic. It’s moved on. If anything I am more aware of what I want and what to expect. But, I can’t help but wonder what will ever happen to him. Will the perfect romance slip him out of the habit or is the player destined to be played as the shadow of Karma lingers behind him waiting for the perfect moment to cash out.

After a Dream

Andrew Newell Wyeth

Painting by: Andrew Newell Wyeth

My eyes grew weary from the heat filled room with eastward facing windows. The sun continues to turn my bed into a furnace as it shines through the glass during the hottest part of the day. As temperatures rise my eyes continue to gain more weight until they are too heavy to stay open. When my eyelids close out the sunshine all that is left is darkness.

The light kept out allows for a canvas of imagination. Dreams dwindling down the rope of the pulled curtain and left on the stage is the show. But, on this day I have discovered, even there you find me. My escape in my dreams, this hidden fantasy, a place where I can shut everyone out and welcome only those who are welcome, you find me there. You’ve walked into my room on this stage, entering the door as if it’s your own. I leap from the place I have fallen and land into the sea of your arms, until you melt away. You’ve left me on my own stage, in my own imagination, alone with you melted on the floor. Even here, in my own world, created with my own mind, my thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, you’ve conquered me. I’ve fallen again, not just in the reality created by all men, but here in my world, I’ve fallen again. I am a fool.

So I’ve awoke from this dream and found myself laying back down in this hot, hot, eastward facing room. And I will stay here, for if I step out the desert breeze will only fill toxic sand in my lungs. I am left with nothing but these dreams I no longer have control of. The welcomed, the unwelcome- entering in and out. I allow my eyes to grow heavy to avoid toxicity within the desert air, for the wine stained clouds that float above this house never pour. Leaving the sun to continue to shine in these eastward facing windows and leaving you, the unwelcome, to enter on that stage door.

Fallen Warriors of Love

judy-garland-in-a-star-is-born-directed-by-george-cukor-1954When hearing stories about great loves it almost seems like a fairy tale. Everything appears to be magical. Kathy and Mark met in their mid twenties, dated for a week, got married, and two weeks ago celebrated their twenty-sixth wedding anniversary in Palm Springs. “After only one week, I asked her to marry me.” -Mark said. They experienced their forth date at the beach. Kathy turned around to look at the ocean as Mark was admiring her beauty. “At this moment I knew she was the love of my life.” Mark got down on one knee and asked for Kathy’s hand. Twenty-six years later I’m here in Palm Springs hearing the two reminisce the greatest moments of their marriage.  Baffled by the fact any relationship could be so perfect I asked the couple, “What is the secrete to a long lasting relationship?” Kathy and Mark were holding each other’s hands turned and looked each other in the eyes, smiled, then gave me this response, “compromise and understanding.” It seems simple enough. Any diplomatic action can be resolved with those characteristics at the foundation.

Unfortunately not everyone is a Mark and Kathy. Not all great love stories end like this fairy tale. What Kathy and Mark have is truly special. Knowing this is important. However, hearing all these glorious tales make not-so-glorious relationships last longer than they should, in hopes that they are a Mark and Kathy. Smoke in mirrors creating an illusion of happiness only to result in a tragedy. The one thing love doesn’t have is a warning label. “Warning: the emotions you are about to engage in will cause moments of euphoria but when taken away have the severe and at times fatal side effects.” And when in disbelief of this warning you can refer to any of love’s fallen warriors: Marilyn Monroe, Judy Garland, and Vincent van Gogh.

The woman who had everything or so it perceived to be. The body of a goddess and the fame envied by all. Miss Monroe captured the hearts of any man who ever saw her, athletes and the president. Even with everything she felt as though she had nothing. This controversial death took place in a time when Marilyn’s love life seemed to continue to go unfulfilled. “I have to many fantasies to become a housewife. I guess I am a fantasy.” -Marilyn Monroe… A fantasy held by a woman every girl fantasies to be.

We were all young once sitting in the living room watching Judy Garland go from a sophia toned screen to colored images in a land that was “somewhere over the rainbow.” “As for my feelings toward ‘Over the Rainbow,’ it’s become part of my life. It is so symbolic of all my dreams and wishes that I’m sure that’s why people sometimes get tears in their eyes when they hear it.” -Judy Garland. Three months after marrying her fifth husband, Mickey Deans, Garland was found dead from a drug overdose. This tragedy occurred in the 1960’s but her personal troubles began in the early 1940’s after her marriage David Rose ended in 1944.

Known for falling in love with vulnerable women in hopes that he would be their knight in shinning armor, Vincent van Gogh went to all the extremes to express and maintain his passionate feelings for the love of his life. He was a intrigued with concept of love, famously quoted saying, “Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.” Van Gogh is another tragic love story, not quiet fantasy, resulting in the amputation of his ear and attempted suicide.

Love can bring you down just as quickly as it can pick you up. Love is the blood diamond of emotions, beautiful and worth so much but at times dangerously sought after and maintained. The fallen warriors of love are examples of this tragic emotion. Kathy and Mark are an example of its beauty. When seeking love think of its beauty but do not forget its darkness.

References:

“Judy Garland, 47, Found Dead.” New York Times. 23 June 1969. http://www.nytimes.com/books/00/04/09/specials/garland-obit.html

“Vincent van Gogh Biography.” bio True Story. http://www.biography.com/people/vincent-van-gogh-9515695

“Marilyn Monroe.” Good Reads. http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/82952.Marilyn_Monroe

“Caught in a Bad Romance”

rain_is_the_newest_fashion_by_ronaaaWe took a cab to Marble Arch and I walked the rest of the way home, only four blocks south. The sun was peeking through the horizon and the wind crisply blew down the quiet streets of London. We had spent the entire night sipping on one to many cocktails and listening to jazz. When I got back to my flat I plopped myself down on the bed, shoes left on, and slept until the early afternoon. It was never anything more than that. Each night started with cocktails, turned into jazz, and ended with me sleeping until noon. And now it’s a different man, different city, different music, but the same routine. Romance is dead. But really who is to blame? People tend to find comfort within the mundane. Unromantic adventures become ordinary, as romance itself seems to be fictional fantasy. Just like anything else in life you have to break the routine and take a chance. In order to find what you want you have to give up something that you have. If you want romantic adventures you have to give up the comforts of the unromantic. I have learned this lesson not by experience but by secondhand accounts. Continuing on with two secondhand stories of great risks followed by great ardor…

When I Return
She already had her heart broken terribly at a young age, left by the father of her child and kick out of her home. At eighteen she was a single mother and living on her own. It would only be fair if she led a life of loathing towards men but this tragic event only made her stronger and eventually led to amnesty. Her daughter turned eight when she began chatting online with a friend of a friend. This chit chat led to an in person meeting which was still filled with all the chemistry that was there in cyber space. There was only one problem. She had to leave for Texas. Leaving the state for over two years would make this relationship nearly impossible. When she told her love what had to be done his response was, “if you still love me when you return I want to marry you.” One year turned to two, two to three, three to home. When she returned she decided that she could not stop thinking about this man. They married and years later their love stays strong.

Stuck in the Rain
The rain made it hard to see the roads. Pouring down on the streets it was impossible to see in this pitch black storm. Down the way was a dim light of a bar. She pulled over to wait out the storm. Sitting at a table just behind her was a group of men. One of the men bought her a drink, but she refused. He was baffled by this so he approached her. When he sat down at her table he chatted her up. Not only making conversation but also making her blush. She accepted the drink and an invite to dinner. When the rain cleared she had made her way back to her car. Instead of heading towards where she was going, she turned back home. It would be many dozen roses and years later that the man learned the destination in which she was heading, her (now ex) fiancée’s house. That moment at the bar she took a chance and fell for romance. She escaped the mundane.

Sometimes we have to stop blaming the people we are with and start evaluating ourselves. If you are in a relationship that lost its fire do something about it, take a chance. I have no one to blame but myself for falling into the same routine. We each have a choice… to either stay in a pattern of comfort or reach out for what is truly wanted. In a world of seven billion people, I’m sure with time you can find just what you’re looking for.