Tag Archives: artificer

I Am Dragonfly

Where two worlds meet, water and sky, I am master. Colorful candy to your eye, I am aeronautic dancer. Fast turn UFO; insect gigolo, I am dragonfly.

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Romeo & Juliet

I want that love like Romeo and Juliet. To love, to miss, to anticipate on giddy high. School when she and I met. No death to end but at age old death. So play, we young lovers, and be met. My happy smiles be upon our bed on wedding’s night do copulate. Beside the sun and moon’s shadow, thy heart airs on breeze like the weeping willow. Let this time be timeless like the brook a-babble. Pensive elixir, mortality do defend. Teenage loins do revel in-quisitive dabble, to erect stand him and her backward bend. But, poisoned lips do I do speak with, for I no more pretty lips to kiss upon. “‘Tis better loved and lost than not loved at all,” were the last words of a lonely fool. Eternity carries less weight than my past mistakes. A perfect love I wanted once, a long, long time ago. In recent years my dreams show, though, the best I could hope is to be like Juliet and Romeo.

Straight Night

In the straight night, under the moon, crazy stars looking for you, I hid you away under spell, to gaze into your eyes like a wishing well.

Crooked

What happened to making do with what you have? There is so much consumerism in movies nowadays.

I remember watching movies from the 70s and 80s with my family when I was a child. Those movies depicted people who would mend, fix, clean, and appreciate the “less than new” things they already had, scavenged, or otherwise acquired. Today, we throw away the things that are “less than new” that we no longer want (instead of investing some of our own TLC) and acquire the new replacement often through purchasing.

I smoked a crooked cigarette, today, pulled from a crushed hard-pack in my pocket. It reminded me of the hand-rolled cigarettes westerns often showed back in the day. And, reminded me of our “evolved” and “civilized” mind set nowadays.

It is the same way I see people treating each other in friendships, intimate relationships, and strangers. What if someone had taken a little extra time to invest in me? What if I had taken a little extra time to invest in someone? What if it is okay to have a crushed pack in your worn jeans, and smoke a crooked cigarette?

What Are You Getting?

Let me ignore you when you come in.

“Hello,” I cheerfully greet each customer in front of you. I take their order with a smile and serve them their food with happiness on my face.

“What are you getting?” I ask in monotone, only after ignoring to acknowledge your presence at the counter. I stare off in blank somewhere else when you stand here. I want you to know that I would prefer you not come here, be here, order here, or hang out here. This place would be better without you.

I make your food, your drink, or whatever you order in mundane manner, never adding anything special or interesting to your order out of kindness. In fact, I serve you without a smile, without cheer, and without welcome.

“Hello,” I say, cheerfully, to the person who steps to the counter after you. For you, the customer after that nuisance, I share happiness when giving you your order.

Hope

What is hope?

Maybe it is the dream kept alive. Floating over muck, hope must be that cushion of air between the dream alive & the dream drowning, dead after the tether of faith has broken its last stran from wear over the years.

You know it when it breaks.

Hope could be faith’s dieing breath. But, what do we call it when hope dies? I think we are often lead to quit after losing hope.

“The mortgage on the dream kept alive on the gift of credit provided by The Bank of Hope is now in foreclosure for: non-payment, non-success, non-faith, & non-self-confidence. Payment is non-negotiable. Pay the debt in full, as well as the accrued interest, or foreclose on the dream,” Mr. U. R. Nothing condemns, Chief Mortgage Lender at The Bank of Hope.

Condemn. That is it. My beachfront property was not perfect. Instead of crystal blue ocean waves lapping at a sandy beach & tickling my bare feet while refreshing sea breezes comb my hair, it was a tiny shit hole that I could own & eek out some kind of existence I could value & offer my self some amount of self-respect. But, it is condemned, now. As am I.

The captain of my ship, and “Titannic” was even painted on the hull in a color I hate.

It is all in a hand basket. I am just tidying up before the party starts.

Secret Pearl

I walk in & look for my pearl of the sea. There she is! Diamonds in her eyes sparkle. Her smile is bright shining back at me. We wave. The attraction innocent & earnest. I love the way she looks at me.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” she greets with a blush & a quick wave from the hip & a smile so big it could carry the world. “I like your watch.”

I say thank you in her native language, but I sound like a child & she laughs. “You always look so pretty. I like your earrings.”

She blinks a lot when she is embarrassed & can not talk. Her cheeks & forehead wrinkle with crimson waves. When she finally looks at me, those pretty diamonds twinkle under their own power like twirling stars. “Thank you,” she says in a language only girls really seem to know. It is a high-pitched tone in lieu of words.

I can only smile back as I melt into the floor. If she were not at work, I would do more because I want more.

I wave goodbye after finishing my meal. On my way out, she always finds an excuse to come over.

“See you next time,” she says.

What else we do has stayed secret.

“See you next time.”