Yucatan

Picture courtesy of Sue Vincent

The evening was cool and the calm was fuzzy and delightful. Abbey walked through the narrow door of 4302 and laid down a paper bag full of spices and stuff. She loved going to Grand Central market to gossip and catch up on the news of her world. Abbey asked if I was going home tonight because her boyfriend was coming over and she didn’t want him to pick a fist fight with me again.

I promised her that I would go to my friend’s house on the west side later tonight and asked her if she noticed anything different about her room. The Pine Sol fumes suckled her dainty caramel nose and licked in and out of her nostrils.

Thank you for cleaning mi reina, the smell takes me back to the valleys and rivers of my town in the Yucatan. Abbey had come to the US in the early 60’s on a travel visa and stayed. She started taking the dried Chiles, peppercorns, cumin and pumpkin seeds and chocolate bars out of the paper sack. Being a little high, watching her pluck each item out of the sack was like watching a jeweler study his precious stones.

Sitting back on the only chair in the room, I asked Abbey about her town in Mexico. She pursed her lips inward and let out an exhausted sigh. Staring at the dim lit ceiling she noticed the freeway knot of spider webs forming on the northern corner.

Abbey looked past the top of my head and stared of the Virgen of Guadalupe poster on the waxy wall. In a little girl voice she described the valleys as having shaded trees and cool patches of grass. The streams, as she remembered were cold enough to soak their beers and sodas when the families of the village would go pick-nicking on Sundays.

Abbey appeared lost and happy reminiscing about her country. Did you know that in the spring time we’d light big fires and because the temperature in the valley was still cold in March, the smoke looked like cloudy fumes against the pitch black sky. And the stars, Ave Maria purisima, the stars were so bright and when you saw them through the smoke fumes of the fires the whole thing looked like a fancy lace veil twinkling with diamonds.

In a melancholy tone I absent mindedly asked Abbey if she missed those nights with the firewood fumes and the stars and cool streams. She smiled wide enough that I could see her gold tooth as she looked down at her old beige pumps and she shook her head telling me no.

The door shook from four heavy thumps. Her boyfriend was in the hallway asking why the hell she wasn’t answering. Abbey cursed under her breath and ordered me to stay quiet and to leave as soon as she let him in. I tried asking her if she was going to be o.k. or did I need to alert Spare Cock.

my way…

the evening was cool and the calm was fuzzy and delightful Abbey walked through the narrow door of 4302 and laid down a paper bag full of spices and stuff she loved going to Grand Central market to gossip and catch up on the news of her world Abbey asked if i was going home tonight because her boyfriend was coming over and she didn’t want him to pick a fist fight with me again

i promised her that i would go to my friend’s house on the west side later tonight and asked her if she noticed anything different about her room the Pine Sol fumes suckled her dainty caramel nose and licked in and out of her nostrils

thank you for cleaning mi reina the smell takes me back to the valleys and rivers of my town in the Yucatan Abbey had come to the US in the early 60’s on a travel visa and stayed she started taking the dried chiles peppercorns cumin and pumpkin seeds and chocolate bars out of the paper sack being a little high watching her pluck each item out of the sack was like watching a jeweler study his precious stones

sitting back on the only chair in the room i asked Abbey about her town in Mexico she pursed her lips inward and let out an exhausted sigh staring at the dim lit ceiling she noticed the freeway knot of spider webs forming on the northern corner

Abbey looked past the top of my head and stared of the Virgen of Guadalupe poster on the waxy wall in a little girl voice she described the valleys as having shaded trees and cool patches of grass the streams as she remembered were cold enough to soak their beers and sodas when the families of the village would go pick-nicking on Sundays

Abbey appeared lost and happy reminiscing about her country did you know that in the spring time we’d light big fires and because the temperature in the valley was still cold in March the smoke looked like cloudy fumes against the pitch black sky and the stars Ave Maria purisima the stars were so bright and when you saw them through the smoke fumes of the fires the whole thing looked like a fancy lace veil twinkling with diamonds

in a melancholy tone i absent mindedly asked Abbey if she missed those nights with the firewood fumes and the stars and cool streams she smiled wide enough that i could see her gold tooth as she looked down at her old beige pumps and she shook her head telling me no

the door shook from four heavy thumps her boyfriend was in the hallway asking why the hell she wasn’t answering Abbey cursed under her breath and ordered me to stay quiet and to leave as soon as she let him in i tried asking her if she was going to be ok or did i need to alert Spare Cock

montagne au repos

Picture courtesy of Sue Vincent

there her spirit rests

rays of silver reaching out

her face gleams in peace

contrition

Indeed, it is very rare when I can feel the stillness of my spirit. It is a wild one. It thrives on diving off the highest cliffs of life and relishes the feeling of narrowly avoiding the jagged rocks of human pain below. I feel her today. She sits next to me silently caressing the gold of the elusive clear horizon.

Thoughts of worry flood me every so often. Will the stillness leave us causing my spirit to tear my natural peace a sunder? It has been much too long before I had the courage to go on my own. To walk away from the safety of the rock solid artificial happiness was terrifying. I did not want to wander in the depth of dark waters for so many years more.

the day dream

the news comes and goes

laughing children noises

frame the window to a past

that has no terrible value

perhaps I should leave it to the dawn

The time for the appointment is here. I have made a commitment to go outside today. How I wish I was  in Big Sur with him. He loved me how I was, but I didn’t love myself. Do I love myself now, I wonder? I laugh a little. The water hushes me and I smile. His shoulders wide and strong, my disease and madness a little stronger. It’s not that he abandoned me, it’s just that he believed in freedom. I believed that my sickness was an entitlement worth dying for.

my way…

indeed it is very rare when i can feel the stillness of my spirit it is a wild one it thrives on diving off the highest cliffs of life and relishes the feeling of narrowly avoiding the jagged rocks of human pain below i feel her today she sits next to me silently caressing the gold of the elusive clear horizon

thoughts of worry flood me every so often will the stillness leave us causing my spirit to tear my natural peace a sunder it has been much too long before i had the courage to go on my own to walk away from the safety of the rock solid artificial happiness was terrifying i did not want to wander in the depth of dark waters for so many years more

the day dream

the news comes and goes

laughing children noises

frame the window to a past

that has no terrible value

perhaps i should leave it to the dawn

the time for the appointment is here i have made a commitment to go outside today how i wish i was  in Big Sur with him he loved me how i was but i didn’t love myself do i love myself now wonder i laugh a little the water hushes me and i smile his shoulders wide and strong my disease and madness a little stronger it’s not that he abandoned me it’s just that he believed in freedom i believed that my sickness was an entitlement worth dying for

Photo by Sue Vincent

rogue harbinger

sky begins to ripe

auld blue soul ushers silent

nesting for the Fall

Photo by Sue Vincent

for Moses

coming out from the

wilderness to witness sky

pewters and silvers God’s

reaching to me i

hear a broken whisper

sliding down the rays

of blessed light night

waiting to spread her

wings over the trees

that will house His

knowledge gifted to us

for Sally and Giorgio

echoes in soft violet

the hem of your

second wedding dress off

to bury your soldier

and marry the promise

of loneliness which is

heavier now at the

beginning of your widowness

and the threshold of

motherhood the only joy

in your frozen heart

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

chores

mother earths mirror

polished by the fairy maids

they three come and smile

Photo Courtesy of Sue Vincent

meu destino final

Picture courtesy of Sue Vincent

at last arrival

after having traveled far

the mists welcome me

goddess to the Lord

silent trees in your palace

Earth’s road guides me in

by standing still my

soul witnessed the majesty

grace that lights His cloak

float i do down the

path to see my loves again

the human gauze falls

at long last from my

eyes that i may see my truth

and pain disappears

dama de fogo

heart

under

your beating

laughing rhythm

burns the fire of

joy like no other at

watching the delft blue beyond

spread away in grandeur pageant

so the lady of the golden light

may dance for the ushers of Nirvana

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

grady’s psalm

lost i wandered the dark hills

blind reaching out to nothing solid

cold rejection bitter earth swollen shut

feet buried in mud sucking me down

on one last morning clouds broke

so i could sense soft waves

cleansing the sickness from my sight

washing the Lightness through and over me

my body drifting ashore to ground

two feet gathering strength standing upright

as gentle grains of angel’s tears

did scrub my sins transformed into forgiveness

looking up with new bright vision

there was the green soothing pasture

peace whispered loud on holy ground

through it all now begins my restoration

Picture courtesy of Sue Vincent