Chapter 3 - "Fire n' Ice..."

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Chapter 3 -  "Fire n' Ice..."

 

"Inside The Hourglass..."

 

Sand has a peculiar taste.

Overtones of - what's on our minds -

thoughts don't let go just because we do

and keys open barred grates with every ...step.

 

There is grit in the desert

everywhere

it wears you from inside and out

it slices

it numbs

it grinds away

- at the mind

- your heart

- your life... each breath brings more

and more

and ...more.

 

The desert isn't mere dunes

ups and downs - slidings, slipping

striding...riding.

It's gravel and stone and rocks and ruts

and hardscrabble and edges and dust

and

...people

and places

and lives

and homes

and froms...

 

It's the sounds in our heads

the ears won't forget

...the sights intertwined

that our body remembers as we breathe.

 

And there's grass in some deserts

sawblade and tall,

and some have paddies

and others are beaches and old seawalls.

There are hills, ravines ...trail-broken paths

our "the Bush"

wet ...rot...

dry...hot...

each with the stench

of living and ...not.

 

And the smell of people,

animals,

ville's and sheds,

fences and walls and stalls

the earth - turned and not

and shreds and vestiges

sun-heated loam

and blood-heated dirt.

 

Ruts and tracks and paths

and walks

uphillanddowns

greens and grays

stone dry browns,

ribbons of water,

the drip of a bucket

rim of a well,

empty windows and leather-hinged doors

eyes that glare, scream ...or won't meet yours,

sounds you almost understand

tones you ALWAYS ...understand

until it's the silence of birds holding their breath

...and the tears when they don't.

 

And church bells and candles

Amens and hymns

tears and prayers and

eulogies whispers

again

and again...

 

We carry our 'dreams' and deserts within

- each step, breath

...pivot, pause ...seeming glance

 that misses ...nothing -

cause its what we do

 

it's who we are.

 

 

Chris

 

@@@@@@@@@@

 

 

Do you remember how to smile?

Where you did?  When?

Why?

 

"Ice..."

 

Staring empty eyes...

diamond days

velveteen nights

- dreamless

seamless

the taste of

cracked lips -

strings of spit too dry

to let go...

 

You turned away

- I watched you go

...each hit was cheap

but life is greedy

more and more

numb the mind

explore the pain

its all control

its all 

...controlled.

 

We lost our way

- and no one cried.

 

Chris

@@@@@@@@@@

 

"Fire..."

 

Beribboned heart and cheeks aglow..

demure eyes - kept slightly low

the timeless moment held within;

 

As such so eversoft - chords - begin

to sound - as heartbeats thump and pound

 

and comes the breath - barely

as cherry lips clearly

parted for the flow

of unspoken whispers

and soundless echoes

- untouched wishes

- unknown kisses...

 

the eyes flow left,

 then up and IN - mine

catch and

shatter and sparkling grow...

 

the sky sprinkles star dust

and rainbowed crystals - unfallen tears

locked within lattices of criss-crossed dreams

and lightning beams.

 

Your eyes then downleft and

falling fluttering      away

and away...

as gently curved fingers

so ...almost reach

almost     reaching

     almost          being

 

come so close

 

so very near

so     very    real

- You are...

 

You        are

right now

     right     now

 

...ever so beautiful...

You.

 

Chris

 

@@@@@@@@@@

 

"Fire N' Ice..."

 

Moments...

Life moments -

hello's and laters,

goodbyes...

 

- firepits on quiet beaches,

the sand spreading from your fingers

a growing mist of dull, lifeless ...bits

floating and floating - away

on the sea's breeze.  Seams...

seems -

The eyes see but the mind

- doesn't

see - it's lost in itself

myself

your self

each self inside each bit of each ...me.

 

3 AM on the porch steps,

listening to their souls

and the tear spreading as it slips away

glistening in the streetlight as

the night damp gathers

soon to form and flow.

 

You weren't bad,

they weren't ...bad,

seems life keeps some angry all the time.

"Get OUT!" ..and here you sit -

we sit, they sit - lost

and found.

 

Home is always a "from"

- always a  ...from

at 3 AM - on a porch step.

 

But there is tomorrow

if you wait and wait and wait.

 

Curbs on drizzly eves -

sidewalks splattered, puddled,

rain-soaked chill, wet ripples flow.

Asphalt - concrete

faded broken-lines.

Bits and pieces of life

sprinkle-thrown

scrunched and mashed

trashed and tossed

their footsteps tapping slapping

fading away with each step's pause.

 

Velvet echoes, weaving shadows.

Watching cars ...floating in the dark

the shush of tires - turning

and turning

backwards and back

...shadows on the inside

always shadows - inside

reflections of other lights

others' light

...somedays and nevers -

staring at the lit windows

wonderings, wishings,

so heavy inside.

 

Living rooms and kitchens

bedrooms too - talking, being, doing,

movies and sights - teasings -

sharing until you're suddenly not

meaning until it suddenly doesn't

- just a glance and you KNOW

you're really alone.

 

Ghostlets gather round endless mores;

ceaseless echoes swirl and twirl,

and rainbows are painted all the shades of gray -

the jabberwocky and I are friends.

 

Chris

 

@@@@@@@@@@@

 

"What Will I Be..."

 

All the years

so many thoughts...

places I want to go

things to try,

taste, see.

 

What will I do?

Why?  Where will I go?

How?  Really, how will I -

can I - should I?

 

And if, if I'm just not good enough?

- for anything at all?  ...anyone at all?

who will i be? ...just me,

another just me ...is all.

 

Chris

Author's Note

...and there are no wrong words, just understood ones.

feel free

Reviews

[Jennie Baron]

You have a lovely way with words, sir, and I don't say that easily either. This book is like a journal of fleeting impressions and images, eh? And you express each one so eloquently.

[Chris]

That IS what Walking The World A Bit is all about - isn't it?

[Lyn Anderson]

No, no wrong words, although, I have to say, not crazy about the apostrophe on ville's but maybe that is just me. I went through the whole volume, and loved it, head to toe.

[Lucifer Jones]

3 a.m. listening to their souls... I believe you hear all of ours... You are emotion and a blaze inflaming the mind and senses. I am humbled and honored my friend. Beautiful.

[Lydia Shutter]

Velvet echoes....splendid imagery. The feeling of loneliness and desolation is expressed so well in this write, Chris. So emotive and unique. I enjoyed. lydi***

[Quill~]

An amazing entendre! You kept it real and yet surreal. To feel the heat of the fire amidst the icy stare is a nice twist to read. High emotions run hot and cold in life, and you have captured it nicely. :)

[Chris]

Hi... Sunday is a good day to pause and catch a breath... hope you come back.

[Quill~]

it is! I love Sundays.
will come back for sure. :)

[Chris]

Then welcome miss... and pause as you will.

[Quill~]

will do. :)

[Larry Dyson]

...And I came and read and saw...a life under shutters of eyelids, nah mind lids ...all there ..all there and alive.. but memories...Laury

[Chris]

Sunday morning... share some coffee?

[SyberRose]

I peeked in when you werent looking today...Enjoyed the view...SyberRose

[Claire Twinn]

Another stunning mix of muses Chris, like tinkles of beauty in empty space. Love the velvet echoes and velveteen nights.

[emmajoy]

'.. until it's the silence of birds holding their breath ~ ...and the tears when they don't.'

'Feel as if i've just spent hours in an auditorium holding the echoes of just one person, he sitting, thought bubble hovering his head .. and all that while his lips moved but the words came from .. .. everywhere in time.

Wonderful.

[J. J. Nightingale]

I have read your words .. I will return and leave mine ... (working)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seems to be, all about the view
And the way hearts beat themselves-up
Steps are silent until they are heard
And we are new , and then we are old
As life re-runs behind our eyes
We smile we cry, remembering whys
Accepting - denying -life-dying
It seems to be about our view

Chris, my heart is pounding .. and my keyboard needs wiping ..
Thanks for sharing the heat & the cold, of echoes and rainbows behind your eyes .

Me