still travelling in the wires
turning the words inside out
nowhere is this more evident
than on that quiet, dusty stretch of road
the balance is rarely upset
except when too many birds try to land
the wires shake and shimmy in the wind
like someone trying not to laugh at a funeral
or running uphill both ways
like in the old days
when everything was gilded
and smoky and magical
or at least that’s how the past is packaged
looking so much better
attainable, earthier
than today’s fast-paced, plastic world
with endless smiles and ever-growing pharmaceuticals
to light our way
when we replete our natural reserves
looking for new ways
to voice old arguments
hoping to connect
when we isolate ourselves more
is tougher
when the messages we want to send
can’t be carried on the wires
brain battles
ensconced (entombed) in an easy chair
in the corner of the living room
watching so much life pass me by
it occurs to me I should join in
if only it wasn’t so much effort
they don’t know
how I can feel the strain
of each chemical
warring in my brain
I felt it before I saw the wave
they never saw a thing
but endure the storm they must
there’s nowhere else to go
and I’m so, so sorry
again
for any trouble
it will pass
I’ll be forgiven
but with my softer side off for the night
I won’t forget
Dirty Jazz story guest post
I shared my story “Dirty Jazz” with friend Lance Manion who’s featuring guest writers this month.
Visit http://www.lancemanion.com/guest-post-andira-dodge/ and read mine as well as some other really interesting pieces.
once in awhile
once in a great while
it’s as though someone’s hit the pause button
there’s no wind, no sound, no movement
I almost catch my breath
but am fooled by the lull and swept away
there’s no excuse
for my inattention
I should know better
there’s history at my beck and call
if I just heed it
once in blue moon
it feels like yet another last chance
I’ve been granted without a reason
not earning a place in the sun for nothing
not knowing when to turn tail and hide away
there’s no better time
than in those quiet moments
when the air is still and you can stop
everything
to just restart
but sometimes it isn’t enough
to understand the need to change
there are other distractions dissuading movement
and sometimes you forget history
and you get stuck hitting the pause button
Keep Thrumming
Incredible lightness settled where confusion had been dwelling
Wisps of ideas swirled like stale smoke looking for breathing room
Stepping through memories and hopes
Trying to find a path that speaks to stars
That shine in my eyes when I dream and wonder
Walking through the twinkling dusk
The trees swaying and whispering lullabies
I struggle to keep my eyes open
As water and music and fading sunshine melt
Keeping my starkest thoughts at bay
If notes could keep themselves
And hopes could flower in living color
The songs would turn sweeter and not bluesy
My arms reach out to grasp something to hold
Not quite bereft but not brimming either
Floating through the air thick with thoughts
It can be easy to settle on one or two
But to be true instead of safe
To stay open is the rougher path
And it keeps the heart thrumming.
The Word Rummager 