Max Ritcher

i have not written here in a very long time, even as i write now i feel as if i am not sure why i am compelled to. I can blame Max Richter and his deeply moving pieces. Life is nothing like it was before, richer and a more beautiful life i have never known. Every step and mis step has brought me to the place i am now, i am a mother to the most incredible little being. I am breathing deep breaths after 14 months of labor and profound love for this little girl.

I am also now beginning to recognize what had layed dormant. Music can do that to you, it can wake you up, shake you even break you. Today i learned something i should have probably already have known, we do not see with our eyes, they are just conduits to the brain and it's memory just like the heart is.

happy to be awakening, now unto wholeheartedness.

picture above is my home on a beautiful stormy afternoon.

in the trees

standing in the trees i could hear faintly from up the hill
the managerie. my hands stained from the freshly picked
bleuberries maybe our lips too. can i take a picture of you 
yes, i said standing nervously. i will delete it i whispered to myself
handing me the camera, there in the walnut and grey birch trees
there was a glimpse of something as if the sand in the hour glass
that was once me still lingered. so this is me in the trees, on the hill at

home.

my fingers have unfolded
slipping through yours, falling
to my side.

cold in my bones

i sit nearer and nearer to the fire both feeding the flames with wood and edging myself closer.

i am cold, bones feel aches and air seems to have pierced through my skin. the rain is falling and hard, fog comes up the hill and back again. a quiet voice from the radio sings words that have me stop what i am doing, what am i doing.

the stack of books some open and others gathering dust, cats claim their hot spots as dogs growl at the air.

half a cup of tumeric & ginger concotion makes the inside of my cup look like art but it is the cup with ice and espresso that is making it to my lips.

there no heat from the sun but there is still warmth around me and even though cold travels and mingles with my flesh and bones, i have still manage to feel a flame of desire..

the air in the forest

the air is so mild it feels as if it came in from a place i long to go. walking through
the forest with  my sweater wrapped around me. trees swaying making sounds i could fall asleep to, maybe there against the moss covered rock i could lay my head and curl up like i belonged there. looking up i spotted a black furry creatures a fisher cat,  i had always been scared of them for i would hear them in the middle of the night at my farm in rhode island but i am not scared here among the trees, it is sleeping like i would sleep if i was a creature of this forest.

i miss her

sometimes memories come when you least expect them.
today  i thought about  my grandmother, how i wish to be back
in the days where i thought everyone i loved was immortal. my thoughts
carried me to a time where she would ask me how i was doing, i thought
about when she would say j ai envie de quelques chose de bon.( i crave something good) me too, me too. i am not sure how i would answer the question now, i hardly remember if back then
i would say the truth or just bits of it. today i would  be too honest,  and that would make
no one happy. i miss that time for so many reasons, but most of all her.

snow

he said i had a dream about you

what was the dream about she asked

he said you were shovelling snow, you were just a little girl

in a flannel night gown and you were scooping up the snow with the shovel and i was the snow....

somebody

i was going to be somebody i just can't remember who:)

human trafficking

Human trafficking is higher than

the drug trade

the gun trade

in america

that is hell of a lot of people looking the other way from child sexual abuse.

that is a hell of a lot of city, state, federal officials NOT DOING THEIR JOB!

the novel

i just finished a novel.
i am left lonely but completely filled
so powerful was the the words that stirred inside of me
i am lost in their images and whispers
i feel as if i have fallen in love, i have been made love to
and left in a sun lit room
the pain raw but to lovely
to not want more

the fog partout

i thought i had seen it in every way possible, but that was not true. as i gathered greens from the forest floor ferns and moss i suddenly saw it or perhaps i felt it come at me head on. the fog thick and if possible roaring without a sound. magical, i know i wish i had a better word for it. i was not dressed in some ethereal dress of white or romantic red unfortunately, i wore jeans with dried mud, a dark sweater with hay all over it,  clogs covered with dirt, manure and evidence of a dog who must have thought them a chew toy, my hair a dark mess of curls and no doubt hay could be found mingling among them. the fog came in so quick that for a second i became disoriented but ducks sounds pointed me in the right direction. the tempertature was milder than just an a few minutes before even though dusk was a moment away. how is it that this place here never stops taking my breath away, one can almost feel beautiful here.

framingham

no one knew where to find you, i asked them with their shiny things owned by visa and american express but they had never been. i hated them for not knowing, hated them for their "i am sorry, i do not know where that is". my eyes now like water falls, i scrounged up dark glasses with scratches on them from the car floor, yet i knew they hid nothing. i drove to where ever someone pointed but their fingers led me to despair. finally hours past and i found you but it was too late. my the dark glasses fogged up with tears, tears  so heavy of salt passing my lips, down my chin and unto my jeans . my heart was broken, broken. i had cried so hard that  my soul disconnected from me, from everything for good this time . when i opened my eyes i saw so clearly it scared me, i could see far into the distance, though houses and  forest but not in some romantic way but instead as if everything was water, lucid nothing different from one another everything the same all without weight or purpose.

soon someone will recommend eating the poor!~

why obama i do not understand
were you eating horse meat in asia
when you signed.

did it go something like this

President"  what is this i am eating?
Horse meat
oh really, i gotta get me some, is it legal back home dear boy"

idiot staff"no mr president but  you have a bill on your desk waiting to be signed"

President"oh sign it  dear fellow sign it wait till the boys get a taste of this"

President"what i signed the bill, so were is my horse meat???

Idiot staff "well mr president we are americans
we do not eat horse meat"

President"well why did we sign the bill? "sir you signed the bill, well what for?"
"answer me boy,

idiot staff  well mr president i thought you where doing it for votes from the cowboys"

President"oh man
i think we will loose some of my guaranteed votes, what am i to do?"

Idiot staff mr president just say you did it for jobs"

President" brilliant! now is there anyway we can sneak in some of that stallion"

oh and dear PETA wtf?


the title of this post was inspired by  a modest proposal essay,  written in 1729 

the window pane

she took the rag from it's hook  and walked towards the window she began to clean, the rag against the glass in circling motion. her hand slowed down and came to a stop. she stared at the window not through it as she often does,  but at it. there she saw imprints of finger tips, were they hers she wondered or his. she dropped the rag and opened up her hand and slowly brought it to the glass,  still warm from the afternoon sun she pressed her hand against it. they were not hers, at least she did not think so. she touched every tip with her own, lingered over them she swore it was like he was here but he was not, long ago gone. she picked up her rag once again but as she reached for the window she knew that she could not erase those just yet.   even  if they were hers both reminded her of the us that once existed. she walked away putting the rag back on the hook, turned her head once more towards the window the memories flooded in just like the sunlight had done moments before.

Mr Robert Oliver

I am writing to ask you to stop studying me if that is what you are doing.

you see there is nothing to learn i assure you. i am quiet content as i am and i have a few  pleasures in life and even if they might seem small to most, sitting at a cafe anonymously sipping what i hope is a good coffee while reading or perusing the net is one of them. I have spent much time on wasted distractions in fact if my life was a map all the blue on such map would equal the time that has been wasted on such things. i know now that i have lived the largest part of my life al ready, no i am not dying of some disease to my knowledge nor have i seen my future that has me  getting hit my bus but i see things realistically and the largest time has passed.  Just for the record the coffee here is bad.  were was i?  oh yes, to make it clear i have no time devoted to what ever you are offering, again none what so ever. if you are wondering, yes i am in love with you,  perhaps it is the drops of paint on your shoes or the fact that you are covered in textures  like corduroy and wool. do not get to excited on my way here i fell in love with a tree that's bark was so grey i found myself touching it, then as i parked the car i heard a woodpecker and confessed that i was in love with it too, oh and this song well yes i seem to  love that too.. so you see i am  fickle might i remind you of the blues on my map.  good day.

elections are like auctions we are all invited to attend
but the winner is always the one with the most money

liev

liev i failed you, i failed  you thinking i was doing the opposite. i am truly sorry.
my heart aches, like it deserves too.

you can not

you tried to put your arms around my neck
then you opened me up and took my heart out with your bare hands
then you started building a cage of metal and high tensile wire
you were trying to do  it again, have my soul locked up.

well you can't take her from me, or anyone or anything
so what, i went away, i smiled and laughed, dreamt and lived out loud.

but she is here and your hands are nowhere near me
and i will not imprison myself again.

planet earth

i don't think the aliens want to come here anymore

the kitchen door

the whisper     you should close the door
me                   i do not want to
the whisper     they will be all right
me                  what if they
the whisper      they will be all right
me                  i can't
the whisper     you must learn too
me                    must i
the whisper     you must believe they will take care of themselves
me                   i can't take the chance, i promised
the whisper     your health
me                   is fine, they give me life
the whisper    they take from it too
me                  not now, not yet someday, maybe
the whisper    you must learn, have faith
me                   hahaha faith, i trust them and me and nothing else.