tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69074439837502943222024-03-12T18:36:20.754-07:00Lost KiteThis blog is simply a random mess of my journal, rants, poetry, personal thoughts and things I like...and unless noted, all my original writing (no copy without permission, s'il vous plait).
I changed the name to Lost Kite from honkycackle because these days I feel more like the former than the latter.
Picture- Lost Kite by ~Kvaga at deviantARThollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.comBlogger243125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-85416265518310276062013-04-03T17:09:00.000-07:002013-04-03T17:09:46.954-07:00these daysIn the days of poop, the feces of old, young, cat, and dog,<br />
I am flooded, mudded.<br />
<br />
Overflow of sound-<br />
the dog going psycho in the backyard,<br />
cats scratching at the door,<br />
a groan, snoring coming from Dad's room.<br />
<br />
I hear my daughter<br />
whining, crying, burping and laughing,<br />
asking for candy, orange juice, carrots.<br />
<br />
I hear the local news,<br />
mouths blaring rape, sodomy, torture<br />
murder.<br />
<br />
Music from the kid's channel blares<br />
from the flat screen.<br />
<br />
These days, it's 2am quiet<br />
all day loud.<br />
<br />
These days, I lift my father from the floor.<br />
These days, I throw away too many diapers, <br />
clean up too much poop, blood and piss.<br />
<br />
These days, I cook for four. <br />
These days, an un-rushed shower is bliss.<br />
<br />
These days, we are always behind on housework.<br />
<br />
These days, I read mostly children's books, and find comfort<br />
in my father still being able to read to my daughter. <br />
<br />
These days, I don't even try to look ahead or above the flood.<br />
I just float in it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-2243613595768656362012-11-23T12:46:00.000-08:002012-11-23T12:46:00.231-08:00In this rain-soaked sweater,<br />
the shoulders of my heart carry <br />
too much.<br />
The long day stretches like <br />
a kindergarten line,<br />
a row of to-do's:<br />
grade, download, print, cook, type, <br />
change diapers, <br />
<br />
<br />
holding you as you giggle, smile, toot.<br />
<br />
The white school walls tell a story<br />
through the cracks and blank stares<br />
The silence makes it that much harder<br />
to leave you.<br />
<br />
When I fill up the spaces with your face,<br />
I can do this.<br />
When rain makes my whole body heavy,<br />
your voice can sing me light again, <br />
whispering through me like a soft note.<br />
<br />
...but leaving you still makes me sad,<br />
and when you go, I'll be sadder--<br />
<br />
lying in the grass,<br />
remembering your castle we made<br />
from cardboard boxes and a tent<br />
and a ground cloth.<br />
<br />
I won't want you to go there,<br />
wherever it is you will go, <br />
and I'll be looking through <br />
the primary-colored panels<br />
out into the back yard,<br />
<br />
wishing your swing was still up,<br />
your slide in use<br />
your toys scattered--<br />
red blue and yellow flags of joy<br />
only because you played with them.<br />
<br />
There is something so perfect in your expressions--<br />
your eyebrows angled, posed<br />
just right for each occasion.<br />
<br />
Love will never be a big enough word, <br />
but I can't stop telling you:<br />
more than all the stars in the sky,<br />
more than all the lightning bugs in all the swamps<br />
of all the world,<br />
more than all the fish in the seas,<br />
wider than the ocean.<br />
<br />
Every day I think how you don't have your daddy,<br />
how you may never have him<br />
...but some holes are bigger than others,<br />
fingerholes patched<br />
fist holes spackled<br />
heart holes prayered, over and over.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-85812182702274015752012-10-09T07:39:00.002-07:002012-10-12T10:49:28.816-07:00August 16th, 2012In the corners <br />
of our lives where all the lint, <br />
loose threads, dog and cat hair <br />
scrap metal, yarn, wood chips, <br />
sawdust and dead skin gather- <br />
we survive, even thrive. <br />
<br />
We inhabit those angles <br />
where it's easy to nestle, <br />
hard to leave, <br />
where rain might make a puddle <br />
<br />
with mud or pretty oil <br />
and where it is so <br />
so messy...but we don't care. <br />
<br />
We sit on top of it all, <br />
or sleep in a tent (just to have room), <br />
and we are hungry and thirsty <br />
and dead with fear <br />
<br />
but somehow still grow <br />
in this stick forest of rotten trees <br />
trash and refuse <br />
ready to be restored <br />
revived <br />
rewritten.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-91317973171369526602012-10-09T07:20:00.000-07:002012-10-12T10:47:48.018-07:00dementedFor 17 months, I forgot to write, <br />
and experience <br />
overrode <br />
everything <br />
<br />
...so now the voice, <br />
the face is a mother voice <br />
a care.taker. face. <br />
<br />
Glowing in the dark means <br />
something new now, <br />
and mother means me. <br />
<br />
Daddy became a character <br />
from a short story I wrote years ago: <br />
He might as well smoke cigars <br />
and play chess naked, <br />
think the teenage girl next door is his wife. <br />
<br />
...and I'm not so great at being their eyes, ears, and brain. <br />
<br />
It's funny to think my brother didn't know <br />
the difference between dementia and demented. <br />
He learned the hard way. <br />
<br />
...and I learned a new meaning for face <br />
as mine has changed so drastically <br />
<br />
cataclysmically changed <br />
...and there are ugly, patchy <br />
yellowed wings <br />
emerging <br />
but I can't straighten them up <br />
or make them fly right.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-75266834015623048382012-10-09T07:05:00.004-07:002012-10-12T10:44:48.503-07:00castlesin a sandy place <br />
we lose our footing <br />
but after a rain <br />
we learn to make sand castleshollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-24501891663125079382012-10-09T07:04:00.002-07:002012-10-12T10:42:55.183-07:00the joke and the puddles yesterday: writing a story <br />
of what I thought was truth <br />
or longing <br />
or heartbreak <br />
or love <br />
<br />
they must have been playing a joke <br />
when they showed me that <br />
something they called love- <br />
in between the sheets, candles, <br />
a kiss in the rain <br />
it must be the biggest joke I know to call that LOVE <br />
<br />
and when I met her, <br />
and every day I hold my daughter, <br />
God's flawlessly knitted truth <br />
like a prize, <br />
a gift opened into LOVE <br />
<br />
and that light beaming <br />
all over me with a word "Mama" <br />
or a look. in. my. eyes. <br />
with a tiny hand in mine, <br />
that brilliant flower, <br />
with more color than <br />
all the puddles with oil<br />
in all the parking lots in the world<br />
<br />
<br />
the faucets on all sides explode<br />
into a watery dance <br />
and I am blessed with too much water hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-33683656388195193322012-10-09T06:37:00.000-07:002012-10-09T07:50:44.116-07:00cracked bark lets in light<br />
<br />
the tree's branches are too heavy<br />
so she grows a bigger trunk<br />
stronger bark, more cracks<br />
to let in the light<br />
<br />
they carve their names into her trunk<br />
but she has the will to live<br />
to nurture her leaves<br />
veins baring, weeping sap<br />
<br />
they bore holes into her body<br />
and her leaves are falling: <br />
red, yellow, brown<br />
<br />
there are lots of nests-<br />
the Carolina Wrens, baby Robins<br />
those eggs cracking too<br />
with wet new life<br />
<br />
she embraces those babies <br />
in her branches<br />
but when the wind blows, <br />
the cradles rock,<br />
she is scared too<br />
<br />
some creaking, snapping<br />
bending and breaking<br />
but the babies survive<br />
and she soaks in the lifehollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-2527751838800598372011-09-27T13:01:00.000-07:002011-09-27T13:15:26.594-07:00no such thing as reasonwhen I want to reach <br />the unreachable<br /><br />man in a yellow cab<br />leaving town all day long<br />leaving me and her and <br />all who care <br /><br />when I think about "us"<br />or when we held hands<br />or when we named her<br />or when we looked <br />together<br />in the mirror<br /><br />or saw her hair for the first time<br />emerging from me<br /><br />because I don't want to remember<br />red scraping cutting words<br />and his impatience<br />with everything from the internet<br />to his shoes<br /><br />and reason has no place in this poem<br /><br />because I almost forgot myself<br />being a mother to his child<br />listening to him<br /><br />because there is a stench in <br />his yard, behind his house,<br />under his bed,<br />and I didn't make it<br /><br />but I did smell it <br />like it smelled good<br />and I took it home and wallowed<br />like a happy dog in it<br /><br />and there is no such thing as reason<br />thinking of himhollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-656371202785714192011-09-21T20:06:00.000-07:002011-09-21T20:10:58.502-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Nxj1oa0nE8/Tnqmxm3GTmI/AAAAAAAAAGc/MyHjTlPVoIc/s1600/DSC02735.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Nxj1oa0nE8/Tnqmxm3GTmI/AAAAAAAAAGc/MyHjTlPVoIc/s320/DSC02735.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655015653292527202" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span>Here We Are in a Recent Pic!hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-19762622748231749072011-09-21T19:56:00.000-07:002011-09-21T20:05:52.486-07:00the "genius baby" list!I wrote a list today of things that Izzy has learned over the past month (She'll be 11 months tomorrow). It was enormous! <br /><br />Highlights:<br />-she blows kisses<br /><br />-she dances (knees bending, arms flapping wildly, hands clapping), but has to hold on or be held to do so<br /><br />-knows how to drink out of ANYTHING...water bottle, sippy cup, regular cup, plastic bottle, Camelbak! and straw<br /><br />-can pet the cat and dog gently with open hand<br /><br />-shares food with cat and dog and anyone who is around!<br /><br />-can brush her hair (and mine!)<br /><br />-can brush her teeth<br /><br />-opens and closes cabinets, doors and drawers-she loooves the Tupperware cabinet!<br /><br />-knows how to help put her arms in and out of sleeves, but hates putting on pants (hehe) <br /><br />-can feed self with spoon...messily of course<br /><br />-she is very close to walking!! (can stand on her own if she forgets no one is helping :)hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-14232185774313308992011-09-20T12:42:00.000-07:002011-09-20T12:43:20.847-07:00Be StillGod gently rid me of my fear.<br /><br />Something so comforting in the abusive words, the ride of addiction, hearing his voice, the lies and knowing at least he’s still alive.<br /><br />Seeing his unshaven face, thinking I can hold his heart in my hands, like his face, and make it clean and new.<br /><br />He told me, “You’re not making this easy.” I wanted to explode.<br /><br />And every time I see our daughter, every time I hug her and feed her and rock her and watch her sleep, I think of him, not doing those things.<br /><br />And if I join my thoughts to God’s I lose sight of him, and am afraid I’m abandoning him. <br /><br />Forgetting that being still is the only option, that I won’t change him, that any doing for him is doing for naught.<br /><br />I want to fill the stillness. <br /><br />Being alone with God is hard sometimes. It requires silence. <br /><br />Silence seems useless, but when I’m in the noise, I die, over and over again with him.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-87290782802270464152011-06-29T19:36:00.000-07:002011-06-29T19:59:00.680-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cls8YC3Et0Y/Tgvh4BL9sEI/AAAAAAAAAGU/QK41CV-5JTE/s1600/IMG01927-20110517-1714%25283%2529.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cls8YC3Et0Y/Tgvh4BL9sEI/AAAAAAAAAGU/QK41CV-5JTE/s200/IMG01927-20110517-1714%25283%2529.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623836912209735746" /></a><br /><br />This is my daughter, Israel Elizabeth Hoover. I have been spending the last 8 months loving her so so immensely. She is unbelievable. One of my good friends, Colleen, who is in her 80s, has given probably the most profound and accurate description of Izzy after having only met her and been around her for 30 minutes or so. She said, "She's intense." This is very true. When she was born, they put her on my chest immediately, and she looked at me with her dark eyes, wide, directly into mine. Since then, when she meets people or encounters new situations, she stares very seriously. She smiles and giggles and is a very happy child, but she is a thinker...a watcher...a listener. She loves to explore, as I think most children do, but she loves blocks, puppets and simply stares at and studies every inch of everything in her hands and within her sight. She also wants to touch and taste everything. Again, I think this is part and parcel because of her age and stage, but I also think she studies on such an intensive level as I have never ever ever seen in anyone. <br /><br />Needless to say, I am extremely proud of her. I also have never experienced such a love as being a mother. I am totally immersed. I have really not written more than a tiny stitch since she was born. I can't wait till my words and hands catch up with all the feelings and experiences I'm having with Israel.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-56591699353167682112010-09-15T09:42:00.000-07:002010-09-15T09:54:45.766-07:00last trimesterI've been out of the gates for awhile now<br />pushing towards something bigger than me<br />bigger than my dreams, bigger than this belly<br /><br />waddling maybe <br /><br />connecting my life to some new someones<br />plugging into this bigness is big business<br /><br />whatever history I knew, I am changed<br />will be transformed<br /><br />before: teacherfrienddaughterchildsinglewomanselfishtalker<br /><br />after: childwifemotherloverlistenerclotheswashermenderbathroomcleanerdishwashercook<br /><br />This is what I wanted.<br />Funny to say it. Even funnier to become it.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-79854502892050090492010-08-12T05:32:00.000-07:002010-08-12T05:39:31.940-07:00I can see you moving<br />bathtub water too shallow<br />for all this bellyhollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-46034659761950774842010-08-05T16:00:00.000-07:002010-08-05T16:39:14.678-07:00you growwarmth, light, a newness<br />something so round, so whole<br /><br />every image I conjur in this worldly mind<br />is inept<br /><br />maybe ones used for centuries--<br /> <br />the egg-<br />smooth, fragile, <br />dropped carefully into place <br />to be warmed nurtured, <br />a safe place with mother<br /><br />the flower--<br />as you emerge from the growing place<br />bud into light and liquid,<br />I notice each stem, leaf, bud, petal<br /><br />precious and perfect<br />a conversation in my belly<br />I can't understand<br />and could never have imagined<br /><br />all in this body worn by earth and time<br />and thought<br /><br />all awkward in light of youhollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-52434615156025173012010-08-04T18:36:00.000-07:002010-08-04T18:58:22.988-07:00in the air of waitingit is the time for waiting<br /><br />i have your clothes in the closet<br />shirts on the top bar<br />pants on bottom<br /><br />your socks in the drawer<br />all white<br /><br />i cry and listen <br />to the TV in the other room<br /><br />as you grind your teeth<br />and listen to the other men<br />smacking their lips in sleep<br /><br />it is the time for waiting<br /><br />i have her clothes in the closet<br />0-3 months hanging<br /><br />others in a box under my bed<br />her blankets and bibs<br /><br />the cradle is ready<br />casters attached<br /><br />i pet the cat<br />listening to the song of the <br />air conditioner<br /><br />as she floats<br />somersaults<br />takes her time<br /><br />it is not my time to do<br />and that's what it means to wait<br /><br />it's only prayer time<br /><br />and prayer doesn't get lost<br />in air that's alivehollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-9060373341888028032010-08-04T12:34:00.001-07:002010-08-04T12:41:35.299-07:00Gah Lee!:) It's been waaay too long since I've been here! I've been without my computer since February, and life has gone incredibly fast since then in so many ways. I'm 26 weeks pregnant with a little girl named Israel Elizabeth. I am engaged. I moved to Florence, AL. <br /><br />I plan to get back into the blogging world, writing, reading all my fav blogs, etc. I missed you guys. I hope you'll all still visit at some point. <br /><br />I've been enjoying pregnancy a lot. My mom says I notice all the details. I try to. I am so in love already. Though I had pretty severe nausea for 5 months, I'm feeling better now, and being able to feel her moving around makes the experience that much more real. Izzy flips and slides around inside me quite often! She's almost 2 lbs now. I have a picture of my belly on my profile. I'm getting huge! I love my pregnant belly. <br /><br />I'm hoping to get past my writing slump and begin writing some poetry again soon. <br />I've been writing to my fiance who is out of town right now on a regular basis. <br />I've also been writing to Izzy in a journal. I hope she enjoys reading it one day.<br /><br />I pray you are all well, and I'll write more soon!<br />Hhollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-68492912688255987302010-01-28T20:50:00.000-08:002010-01-28T20:54:54.534-08:00a poem he sent me todayI fell in love with the ocean<br />and I think of you every <br />time I look out over it and<br /><br />always will that's where I'm<br />going that's where I'll be <br /><br />waiting when the time<br />is right I meant what I said<br />and I always will now that <br />I understand real God given<br /><br />soul connected love I'll be<br />there It's not easy to follow <br />Him sometimes<br /><br />but you will find your way<br />but it won't be back to me it'll<br /><br />be ahead and abovehollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-79786483680287340662010-01-27T19:20:00.000-08:002010-01-27T19:35:16.837-08:00You stopped running.I go faster and faster.<br />I stumble, skin my knees; <br />my hips and ankles ache.<br /><br />I move, and <br />though I take lots of rests,<br />I move again.<br /><br />When I saw you weren't <br />beside me anymore, I called<br />and called.<br /><br />I am still calling.<br />I can't wait for you to catch up.<br /><br />Even if I don't ever<br />hear your shoes thud,<br />your breathing, even if<br />I can't ever see your eyes again,<br />my pace won't falter.<br /><br />Sidewalks and asphalt<br />rocky paths and fallen trees<br />dirt trails and sandy walkways-<br />He told me to keep walking,<br /><br />so that's what I do,<br />and I pray God breathes into you<br />once more,<br />and you will be there,<br />running next to me again.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-21264248171084149702010-01-22T21:46:00.001-08:002010-01-24T20:30:02.155-08:00re-visionThere's something called discernment,<br />and it's hard to have from 521 miles away.<br /><br />It's tough to believe you from that far,<br />and I want to believe <br /><br />every single word, from trust to sister<br />but the rain hasn't come, and neither<br /><br />has the light, only the waiting.<br /><br />It's about time for me to stop looking<br />at you, not being able to see that far<br />anyway,<br /><br />turn off the sound, and the picture,<br />and live in the light of today.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-36013668437189225862010-01-20T21:20:00.000-08:002010-01-21T11:14:27.156-08:00Fear NotJust because people make drugs out of household cleaning products and<br />over-the-counter meds aren't anymore, <br /><br />just because there are babies born addicted, <br /><br />just because they are taking over whole neighborhoods <br />and towns with guns, white powder, and they are<br />stealing loose change from a car<br />breaking into a broken down trailer with 16 cats and 3 dogs<br />knowing where the rent money is stashed <br /><br />just because some say it's the "end times"<br /><br />and there are houses reeking of poison and piss<br /><br />doesn't mean laughter<br />no longer exists<br /><br />doesn't mean God is dead, <br /><br />and when you plan to save them,<br />what do I do but sit and pray,<br />keep walking,<br />and stand out of your way?hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-54731843003664848192010-01-15T15:51:00.000-08:002010-01-15T16:06:59.667-08:00the fastThere's prayer <br />in the apple<br />the orange juice <br />and the broccoli,<br />the spinach and the<br />water.<br /><br />Daniel refused the <br />King's wine and meat,<br />and so can I.<br /><br />When I am with God<br />things change. My <br />belly calls, and <br />only He can answer.<br /><br />Tears wash my face,<br />and there is no milk<br />in the mixture.<br />I don't need it.<br /><br />There are never any pieces<br />of me left when I end<br />up down there, <br />knees digging in.<br /><br />I am calm, until I <br />climb out<br />longing for the noise <br />of men.<br /><br />Their sounds snake around me,<br />and my knee holes fill up<br />with thoughts.<br /><br />I can't keep them.<br />They aren't mine.<br /><br />Listening to Him is hard,<br />and I get distracted<br />by the pretty faces,<br />so prominent,<br />but not available.<br /><br />He's sweetly whispering,<br />constantly,<br />and I can only ignore for<br />so long <br /><br />only sleep for <br />so many hours<br />until my empty belly<br />wakes me<br /><br />and I can only fill it<br />when I'm<br />on my knees.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-9694604977854724352009-12-10T11:04:00.001-08:002009-12-10T11:12:26.411-08:00imagining what you look like in personSometimes I see a stranger,<br />in the coffee shop, or in the <br />grocery store, and I think<br />that is what you must look like<br /><br />in person-scuffy, hard-working,<br />big leathery hands,<br />jeans and boots, a hat of some sort.<br /><br />I wish I knew, and pictures <br />of you show only the eyes,<br /><br />but the eyes are alive, clear blue<br />and I see you in them, the you<br />I used to know, when we would <br /><br />drink underage,<br />hold hands in the backseat,<br />kiss on the couch, <br /><br />listen to the Cult, <br />me driving that silver Sentra<br /><br />and I see you now, the you<br />I am beginning to know,<br />the Godly, grown up, <br />still struggling you<br /><br />the you that said you want to <br />grow with me, and if we can,<br />it will be so good.<br /><br />I will wait to hold you, and <br />for now, that's fine.<br />I still have your eyes.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-35653159198907650202009-11-13T15:31:00.000-08:002009-11-13T15:48:45.260-08:00when we runwe are going towards Light<br />and not towards each other<br />but<br />parallel<br /><br />you know things I am only learning<br />you run with me anyway<br /><br />she said, "when you see someone<br />running next to you, then you'll know"<br /><br />and as we run<br />the Light gets stronger<br />we bend to It<br /><br />It wraps around us<br />vines around our fragile<br />fearful<br />hearts<br /><br />fruitful, blooming, <br />branching to Lighthollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6907443983750294322.post-62787628586956481082009-11-02T20:06:00.000-08:002009-11-02T20:36:57.305-08:00When the dog barks in her sleep it makes me think of you.I can't divide the pillow into<br />any more sections now.<br /><br />There are only so many soft parts, <br />and it feels like I've got something <br />extra attached to my throat already.<br /><br />I am wading through soggy fields<br />waiting for a sign.<br /><br />The wet ground makes me angry<br />sometimes, cause it's cold.<br /><br />I can't sleep like that.<br />I don't want to wake up to nothing.<br /><br />When the moon falls out of the sky<br />I will see something<br />in the darkness I never knew.<br /><br />It will have a name like Isaiah.<br />One I can roll around in my mouth.<br /><br />I won't have to look at you when I <br />brush my teeth in the morning.<br /><br />I won't have to whisper your name <br />at night.<br /><br />I will have my own name.hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06973648530219556353noreply@blogger.com3