Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Upon the Wall


One hand flitted through the once auburn hair.
Twirling it about her finger as she once did in school when pressed with hard questions.
Her eyes float over the pictures hung upon the wall.
That one of her at thirty seems familiar but she's not quite sure.
However, the woman is a stunner; she wishes she were as well.

Memories come and go like buses on a busy street
She never catches one and remembers her mother's words.
Don't run or fret yet. Patience wins in the end.
She once believed such words but her patience now grown quite worn.

She gives a shrug that finger still tightly entwined within her thinning locks.
A feeling comes and she believes it means hunger.
But, she has long since forgotten what those urges really mean.
She pushes to her full stature now a mere 4 foot 10.
Back in the day it was 5 foot two.

The curve in her back forces her head to hang low.
 No matter her destination she only sees her feet.
The feet of a dancer who long ago twirled,
Across a stage meant for only her and the watching world.

She no longer remembers the steps of those dances.
But when a sweet melody catches on the wind,
Her small frame begins to subtly swim through the air.
Becoming one with the music no one else is able to hear.

As she shuffles along a brief glimpse of present reality flashes in her mind's eye.
The children are all gone and she will no doubt, soon die.
A quick turn towards the kitchen, cupboards carefully peeled open.
A soft sigh crosses her dry lips as the hope she had upon entering is put to rest.

Only one can of food remains causing a mental debate.
Is she really hungry enough to eat this now?
The aide won't be by for three more days
And the social security and food stamps don't go a long way.
The can remains seated on the shelf for dire need.

Her hands dig through the ten bottles of medicine the doctor swears she needs.
If only the medicine were cheaper there might be some food to spare and perhaps a new plant.
The plants had been her passion an outpouring of her love in green's full bloom.
Those no longer hung across the living room.

The lids are easy open but a full twenty minutes it takes her to unclasp each one.
Counting out the pills once, twice, thrice each.
There is nothing of import in the refrigerator to wash them down with.
Instead a shaky hand fills a cup with rusted tap water then brings it to thin lips.

Swallowing down her only hope,
To stay alive long enough to see her children's faces.
To hear their laughter and voices once more light up this dreary space.
To once more feel the pull of her lips that places a smile upon her face.

She knows though they won't be coming.
Her aide the only face she sees now.
She shuffles back to her armchair well medicated now.
The pangs of hunger still annoy every once in a while.

Her mind slips back into the now normal fog.
It is easier this way to remember nothing at all.
Nothing to long for or be saddened by.
And another day passes as it has every other day before

Alone in her chair watching shadows play down the hall
Once more wondering who that stunner in the picture was that still hangs upon the wall...

~Divine Chaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com Heather M. as Divine Chaos All Rights Reserved.

Photo Credit: Viktor Lyagushkin

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Play On


My dreams feel like the warmth of our entangled thoughts.

My dreams look like your wild abandon.

My dreams taste like raindrops on your skin.

My dreams sound like the beat of your heart
.
My dreams with you my proudest sin.

My dreams repeat each moment of the day
.
Play on.

~Divine Chaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com Heather M. as Divine Chaos All Rights Reserved.

Photo Credit:Zena Holloway

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Forgotten Reminders


Realization crashes over him
There is nothing more for him here
The love that once resided here has long since left
The shadows play across the wall
Revealing the light spots where pictures once stood

One hand touches the wall where his favorite photo hung
His eyes then look to the worn floorboards where it had crashed to so long ago
He turns slowly, eyes moving up the steps
Recalling the days when laughter was heard from above and below

A cold wind blows, his arms tuck tight to his sides
The shattered window allows this reminder tonight.
He shuffles slowly to the door not wishing to be here anymore
As he reaches the door he notices its slight movement
How long had he promised to fix that for her

He groans with pain and flings the door wide
Meeting the world again ripped of his pride
As he crosses the walk he notices her favorite tree
A circuit about it as one hand rubs the bark
Snow brushed aside now reveals the old marks

A crude heart carved upon the tree's skin
I love you now and I loved you then is carved within.
Had he known she had left such love letters would he have fixed the door?
Or would he still be right here wishing to hold her once more...

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: Flaming Love

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Zoe 101 ~ Character Snippet

   

     She was a pretty baby, born with a head full of thick black hair that would later turn blonde. She was enamoured with sucking her fingers; tall man and ring man. She squirmed and wriggled like any newborn. Her cries akin to a kitten's mew, soft and almost inaudible. Undecipherable faces flashed before her limited eyesight throughout the day producing a jerking arm movement meant to convey some need. Early on when she was still young and carried with her that new baby smell, those tactics worked. When she aged a bit the newness had worn off. The enigma of figuring out an infant had been replaced with the knowledge of imposed limitations stemming from her arrival and growth. 

     When she began to crawl and then later wobble a distance of three feet on short legs with wrinkled thighs reality sank in. What had once been seen as a blessing was now a hinderance and obstacle in the life of the adults near her. This situation was easily remedied with dark alleys and infant car-seats. A drive to the local bar was a joy for her until she was "safely" parked beneath a blown light post.  Her arms would stretch longingly to those in the front seat. With one foot out the door they could hear her plaintive cry, "Me come?" Chubby little fingers would unfurl then close repeatedly until a hollow, "not this time" was uttered.

     She had learned that the car was a home away from home albeit one she would not have chosen for herself.  With nothing but silence enveloping her she learned not to cry, there was no one to hear her. Boredom and curiosity would settle in quickly both pushing her to figure out how to unlatch herself from the restraint of the carseat and the car itself. She never did figure out the puzzle that was the backseat of a Pontiac Grand Prix but she knew she would spend many cold nights locked away within it under the guise of safety.

~DivineChaos

I hope you enjoyed this brief glimpse into the main character of my upcoming book, Zoe 101. Please feel free to give your opinion on this snippet in the comments or by using the contact form on the sidebar, Speak About It. As always, thank you for taking the time to find something worth reading here. ~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: 123RF

Saturday, July 27, 2013

The Other Side of When


Turmoil. Desperation. Life is incomplete.
That which is most desired not within reach.
Living a life in question is a depressing feat.
Turmoil, desperation; life is incomplete.
In paradise my hope resides awaiting our longed for meet.
Society and humankind, pleasure and pain they teach.
Turmoil. Desperation. Life is incomplete.
That which is most desired not within reach…

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: Skullspiration

Friday, July 26, 2013

Summer's Defeat


Summer is now officially half over--according to my kiddos. Only six weeks left to do my best to cram as many fun-filled activities as I can on a budget that daily curses those who believe $8.45 an hour is overpay. The youngest, eight going on twenty-three, has explained to me in no uncertain terms that I am slacking. Apparently, I am not quite cool enough to grasp this eight year old's take on the summers of the 21st century as opposed to my summers of the oh-so-long-ago 20th century.

I won't lie, I was a bit taken back. Me, no longer cool? Unthinkable, unfathomable, quite unheard of. But alas, I have to admit that when I look at the other cooler, hipper, better paid parents I do seem quite drab. I am not in a place to head out each weekend to a new amusement park. I don't have the resources to join the local pool for a $600+ share to allow me a summer of sitting with parents who are with it. And to top it all off, anything that is in my price range seems to fall under the no-way-in-hell-am-I-doing-that-old-people-crap category. As much as I would like to, I just am not a wealthy woman when we are speaking monetarily and quite honestly, it's a bit disheartening. As a parent you wish you could whip your children off on every commercialized fantasy they see on television, but that simply is not my reality. The weight of this reality evoked a defeated sigh.

I became entrenched within a vision of me in a muumuu, red with enormous violet flowers. It, of course, had the two very deep and might I add convenient pockets to cart my glasses, false teeth, kleenex, and ill-gotten Sweet N' Low packets. My hair was thinning and a drab grey because of course I am to old to worry about my hair nor can I afford the box of Clairol to hide the grey. Not that it would matter, I wouldn't be able to read the directions because I will have forgotten where my glasses are. I'd find them an hour later though--I'm hoping.

This elaborate nightmare continued and I was -jeez- I don't even want to write it but I was....fat. Not just little old lady in a green polyester suit fat, no; this was morbidly obese. I am assuming from the many mornings spent at McDonald's getting breakfast and my free senior citizen's coffee on the side. Other seniors speak to me but I continuously forget mid sentence what my point was and just wave a hand as I suck on my gums since I have forgotten to Poligrip those dentures in on this particular morning. Eventually, I regain my train of thought and interrupt everyone in the vicinity to ramble on about the kids these days and how it was when I was knee high to a cricket.

It was about this time my daughter noticed my glazed eyes and open mouth and began poking me repeatedly. I snapped out of my horrific reverie and plastered a smile across my lips for her benefit. I didn't bother to explain what I was thinking despite her nagging. I just grabbed her small hand and wandered over to the dining room table and sat her down while we looked through some local family publications and the web for a Friday night outing that was by her terms--cool. We finally found one that was acceptable and affordable which pleased me to no ends because I was once again the owner of the cool factor.

Unfortunately though, this same scenario will be repeated again, too many times before school starts back up on August 26. And each time I will feel inferior and somewhat of a failure. I am sure my outlandish visions will be replayed, only the next time will have never before seen, extended, director's cut scenes included. I will do my best to once more soothe the savage beast that is a summer child without comparing myself to other parents. However, I am a comparer; so I will most certainly compare myself to her friend's parents in my mind and dread the first week back to school when every child is chock full of exuberance and stories about their summer. And once again my defeated sigh will get lost upon the stomping footfall of a child who has yet to learn the evils of money, parenting, and the world at large,

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: No Place by Chris-tel

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Love rambles

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Hey there, It's me. I've been thinking....again. While muddling through the random thoughts that take up play space in my mind, I latched onto one that seemed to be seeking attention. I considered for a moment and then let my mind take flight with it. I wonder how many of us have contemplated love. I mean love in all forms not just unrequited love. How do you know it's love? Maybe what you have is just really some lukewarm, hazy rendition of what you think love ought to be. I don't know and who am I to judge outside of my own little personal bubble, right?

In my life I can say I know love in many, different forms. I am in love with my husband. My children, all quite different, I love immeasurably. Immediate family, I love indifferently. Friends, well to be honest I am not the friendy type even though I love people. I love writing in a way I cannot even describe other than to say when I am writing I am one with my thoughts, feelings, and words. I love animals too, have several in fact and love to smooch them and call them lovely self esteem building names like dandy dog and fabulous feline. I know, I can be a dork; call it part of my charm; I digress though.

I love electricity, thank you Tesla! I mean, I really am enamoured with it. How did people manage before its invention? In fact, I love it even more when there's a power outage. That second you hear every appliance whirring back to life is joyous. I feel like I just won a gold medal, like I have defeated the ghosts of centuries past who went without such luxuries. I also love warm coats on cold days, watermelon, card games, and when I catch the bus on time. I could go on, but I am sure you see where I am going with all this.

With all these different types of love how do you know it really is love? Maybe I don't even fully grasp the concept of love if I am using it in sentences to convey my feelings of a jacket on a cold day. Seems as if I am sort of making a mockery of the word, yet my spirit tells me, "Nope, you're right." If my spirit is telling me I am right then maybe my mind is over thinking this whole condition of love. Maybe the point is to understand and name the subtle variances and nuances in each degree of love. Of course, I could then start delegating out new words from Roget's Thesaurus to signify each level or aspect of love but quite honestly I don't have the want or convicton to do so.

So what I came up with in the end is that by having known the absence of love for a long measure in my life it has made me more critical and analytical of love and all its forms. This isn't a bad thing though. I am able to love things more fully now having gone without. I look at things, and by things I literally mean things, such as: a chair, a coin, a car, etc. and realize how much I love these things and the possibilities and opportunities they afford us. Crazy talk here, but I swear I can see past the thing and admire the essence of what it was and is and that I love.

I never thought I'd say it, feel it, or admit it but having lived the past I have I am able to love the present and the possibilities of the future. I love and am loved, in many ways by many people, places, and events. I waited a long time for it and searched even. Seems like when I stopped looking and started simply living, love found me. I couldn't express it any other way but to say I have been blessed by some Divine Force that sees me worthy of finally noting, giving, and receiving love. Love is a rambling weed that has taken over the garden of who I am and who I wish to become. I kind of like the wild and whimsical cottage garden that recognizes that the weed is simply a flower too looking for the sun and a bit of love.

I wish the same for you.

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: Andrei-Oprinca

 

Park Here

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Wild abandon
I felt it there with you
Flying through the air
Laughter ringing off the clouds
Jumping free
Gliding within gravity for a moment's time
Out of breath
Silly grins painted across our faces
Push up and we're off again
Eyes closed, head tossed back
Arms aloft like an acrobat
Spinning circles for no reason at all
We were one, feeling ten feet tall
Wild abandon
I felt it there with you
Don't deny it
You felt it too.


~DivineChaos


Dedicated to my daughter and a day in the park


© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com


Photo Credit: Tristan + Trista


Saturday, July 6, 2013

How Chaos Came to Be

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It occurred to me that many may not understand the nom de plume I choose to write under, Divine Chaos. So, I figure I'll explain, it may offer insight into who I am and how I come to what you see posted within this blog.

A little over a decade ago, I started making major changes in my life. Some changes were intentional and deliberate others just happened. I began reflecting upon situations and people who made me feel some kind of way in my past. I began evaluating my behavior, actions, and parts I had played in my downfall. This was not a good time to know me-- I was a complete bish.

I grew up with little parenting, in fact, to say I received a little is being generous. For a long time I blamed my childhood on other areas of my life where things were not up to snuff. Once I was a bit older, and I use the world older loosely here; I was in a perpetual stage of anger. Anger at what I should have had as a child, anger at my lot in life, and anger at myself. The anger with myself was mostly because  I considered myself unworthy of those things I envied in other people and their families.

I went on living a life fueled by anger. I pushed good people out of my life because I labeled them as too good for me. I kept thugs, hustlers, and bad boys right up under my arm. See, this type of person is after the same thing you are-- acquaintance without ties and obligations. I searched for freedom through a lifestyle of dashes of liquor and long nights. It did not work, I was still questioning my existence.  In case you have yet to guess, I didn't get very far but I did my damn best to exhaust the use of anger. Finally, I gave in throwing my hands up and just saying, "Feck it all." For those contemplating a life of anger-- don't bother, it's highly overrated.

At some point I noticed I was not growing. I was an emotional child trapped in an adult body. So I did what I thought would save me- I dove into every religion I could trying to find out the purpose of life when you come from the place I had. To be quite honest, I learned a lot, however; none of it answered sufficiently my wish to find the purpose of, or rather, my purpose in life. I did use what I learned to re-evaluate many of my actions and life choices, so in many respects this soul-searching wasn't for naught. I also learned something I value highly to this day. Religion is not for me because truth has more than one door. I have opted for an eclectic mix of many teachings which make up my personal religion, better known as spirituality.

Once I quit putting my hopes in religion and books, questioning my childhood, and being someone I wasn't meant to be  and just began to try to see my life through the eyes of others; it dawned on me that my life was two things, divine and chaotic. The two complement and compete with one another. I realized that the idea of the perfect life was a fantasy. I decided I will be content with the life I  been given--one of divine chaos. I found that I could empathize with almost any book, movie, situation, or person due to my past. I could laugh and relate to the chaos and I could see the divine spark of intention and potential in myself and others.

I am a fractal. A fractal is a  curve or geometric figure, each part has the same statistical character as the whole. I began to realize that I am the essence behind the questioning voice in my head. That the sum of who I am is not greater than  parts of me, good or bad, that comprise my being. That up close, like a fractal, I look a hot, chaotic, mess but from above the whole picture is attained and my real beauty is seen.  So I accepted my lot because I can now, and because it is who I am.

So now, I have embraced both the Divine and the Chaos in my life. Please, do the same....

~Yours~

~DivineChaos

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Photo Credits: Nietzsche & Fractal