I've held it in my hands, and rolled it through my fingers, I've tasted it in my mouth but it will never be mine. Is knowing that it exists enough? Can it be sufficient to have the knowledge of a thing that you can never possess, never truly experience?

There are some things in life that leave such indelible mark on us that we can never forget them, never let them go. We know we will spend our lives chasing them in what will end as a futile pursuit. There is a beauty in futility that I don't think many people ever truly see. My eyes were opened to it when I first realized that I was never going to have a daddy. What a silly thing for a grown woman to say, yet I not only said it but I meant it as well. I am content to give up the glorious father and child reunion to live with the exquisite ache of the certainty that my futile search will never lead to my continued rejection by a father that has no desire to know me. 

Still, there are some things that people would look at and tell me, "You know that can never be yours" or "You know there is no answer to that" and I refuse to see it. I refuse to give in to the idea that it is futile for me to seek out that answer ot for me to strive to make whatever it is that I want- MINE. 

I think tht delicate balance between knowing some things and hoping for others is a tricky thing and I throw mine off all the time. I fall down so far into the mix of it that I can barely find myself much less find what it is that I am looking for. There have been times when I've fallen so hard that I can't even remember what it is that I am looking for. Usually, I think the ultimate answer is that I am looking for myself. Sadly, I don't know that I would know me if I saw me. 

If on most days I am content with my life...I am making the most of what I have and letting go of the past....I am looking forward to a future that has happiness inside of it...Does the path that I take to get to those days really matter? 

Is the man who finishes the race but was lost the entire way any less finished than the man that stayed the course the entire time? I don't think so. Maybe he isn't as fulfilled, but he is just as finished. 

Fulfillment is better than finished.  I hate the way the resemble one another so much.

If I had given in immediately it would have been ages ago when you knew how I truly felt. I know how to fight, how to hold back, deny myself. Deny me to defy you and I will win every time. 

I have known for a long time that if you could take it back, you would. What you lack in courage you can't make up for with conviction. You're the epitome of what you hate and you hate me because I am the only one that knows the score.

The night that you learned you weren't the god that you had always thought yourself to be you were wearing that blue shirt with the mysterious stain on the sleeve. Your hair was in your face and your mouth was curled just like a lie. Your eyes couldn't focus and your hands couldn't steady themselves. 

Your music is coming in through the tiny particles of air and choking me but it looks so beautiful that I can't turn away. I want to be able to hate everything you are but I can only muster the strength to hate...everything you made me.

Well, I've been away for maybe the longest time ever from LJ. It's been a strange time but good, for the most part.

I should be ashamed for not coming and thanking those of you who sent Christmas cards, gifts and letters. So...Thank you all now. It meant a lot and really brightened up the season. 

I've been a member of LJ now for many years and I've never once thought paying for it was any better than the free junk....but yet again someone has paid for my LJ and for extra pictures....So, thank you as well. I have a feeling it was just a plot to get to me update. I guess it worked if that was the case.

I'll try to come back soon and put something of interest here....if anyone still reads this stuff, that is.

Much love to you all.
xoxo

The colors you paint don't exist in the same realm that we live in. They are only brushed against the ashy canvas of what we could have been.

Today would my brother's 28th birthday. He would be my friend and confidant. Instead he has now been dead longer than he was alive.  The 4th of July was 14 years since the day he was killed. I can't come to grips with this. It's like he is in everything I do and everything I say and I can't move on and I can't back up and it isn't killing me...and maybe THAT is the problem. 

Happy Birthday to the the LJ ambassador!

May each of your dreams be fulfilled, may each of your hopes come to fruition.

May your happiness be as deep as the ocean and your troubles as light as the foam.

We all love you, Happy Birthday Dave!

inspectorjury

Bold Patience

We felt ourselves abandoned in the echo
in the mayhem we allowed to engulf us.
Moments of your life still seemed to panic
as hands brushed over your memory. 
Still, you could not defy this death.

It was the merciless silence
that made so keenly aware your disappearance.
Dreams of you lingered in each of us
each of us afraid to forgive you
in the midst of an apology that you did not offer.

To steel ourselves against our yesterdays
was a pitiful denial of the power that you
held over our fragile cusp of tomorrows.
You, as indelible as the expelled breath, 
a forever lingering bright laughter.

A union of past and future is weighty
heavy with regret and anticipation.
The idea that you will not surprise me
in an embrace of shared blood and bone
is a sorrow so sweet that if I doubted God, 
I would convince my body to give up it's ghost.

I gave up on searching for a key to where you are
content to be bold in my patience
I wait with the years resounding
as even they long to close.

I did mention the poetry challenge thing the other day. I know it is Friday and the world somehow stops on the weekend...at least the LJ world...but with this assignment you can all come back fresh on Monday and have lovely poems to share.

Okay...Poetry Challenge for 6-8-07

We will use the list of 25 words. One word per line to make a 25 line poem. The words can be used in any order but must all be used.The poem can be broken into stanzas or not. The meter, rhyme and rhythm all to be set by the author.

1. hand
2. bone
3. echo
4. key
5. steel
6. forgive
7. defy
8. bold
9. union
10. sweet
11. mayhem
12. power
13. bright
14. apology
15. indelible
16. year
17. convince
18. dream
19. close
20. idea
21. regret
22. cusp
23. panic
24. aware
25. silence



I try not to forget that it was Aristotle who said that revolutions are not trifles but that they sprang from trifles. I need a revolution of sorts...so this is the sort of trifle that I hope mine can spring from. If you are need of one yourself, trifle along and we will see what happens. 

There is no deadline...there is no end...play at your will and reply with your poem or reply that you posted your poem at your journal or e-mail me Ragamuffen@aol.com

xoxo

So, once a long time ago I wrote a story and put it in this journal called Carey Wayne and the long dark hall....I only mention that because if you want to understand the emotions about what I am about to write...you could read that and understand better.

My cousin carey Wayne shot his son the day before yesterday. I don't have all of the details. I do know that Corey is in critical but stable condition. I have heard that his father shooting him was an accident. They were apparently in an altercation with men that he DID intend to shoot. I have also heard that he accidentally shot his son twice. He has been arrested for 2nd degree attempted murder. Corey will have surgery today to hopefully remove the bullet that is lodged between his heart and lungs. I hope that Corey doesn't die. My desire to know more about this is bizarre....like a true crime show on television that you happen to know the characters. Life is random and bizarre.

I'm not going to write anything else here because I will let this stand on its own.