The Alleged Guitar

The Alleged Guitar, is arguably, one of the best presents I've ever received.  It speaks of love.  It speaks of KNOWING someone.  It speaks of sacrifice.  It speaks of thoughtfulness.  It speaks of faith.  Yes, the Alleged Guitar has a LOT to say.  The one thing it doesn't speak of is music.  Let me explain.

The Alleged Guitar was a gift for my forty nth birthday.  Which one doesn't matter.  It was the last one if you're reading this as a fresh post.  It might not have been if you're reading this in the future.  It was an awesome gift.

My failed career as a rock goddess

So long ago, and far away, before the million fires of the inter webs raged into the night, back when folks often concentrated on things for minutes and even hours at a time, back then in the dark ages of libraries and FM radio, I... I became a teen.

I'd say if they existed back then I would've been a Goth, but Goths did exist back then, and I wasn't one.  I was considered a stoner, long after any interest in drugs or experimentation stopped.  I'm told I would've been called a Hessian in some circles.

Landscape

Sunset.

The landscape freeze-frames.

Clouds slow their motion,

and the sun halts in the sky.

All to show off,

for a long slow moment,

this day's quietly gathered masterpiece.

One day for us.

A lifetime for a cloud.

February 16th, 1997

Emily

EMILY

Welcome to the world, 

little one.

We're awfully glad you could make it.

And very pleased to meet you, indeed.

You have a lifetime of learning, ahead.

I should warn you, 

some of the faster thrill rides 

can be frightening.

And there will be bumps and scrapes

along the way.

But time enough for that, later.

For now, it's enough to say

that you have every potential in the world 

right at this moment!

And you are surrounded by many

to love and care and teach 

and help you grow.

Sweet dreams

and sweeter wakefulness,

friend.

1997

SUBJECT CHANGE

the subject is phobias-

Your fear of love is obvious,

locked down entrances to your heart,

we slip what we can through the mail slot,

look for carelessly unguarded windows.

Somehow, we always find a way in.

Attention Span

It has come to my attention

That you don’t give a damn

And I should leave this place

Yes it has come to my attention

That you just don’t give a damn

I can see it on your face

Road Trip

Photo by George Armstrong (This image is from the FEMA Photo Library.) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

"Detour" said the sign, and I agree.

It's been a long, long time.

I must have missed the turnoff

to take me back to the main road.

I've been lost on these little backroads 

and I can't find my way free.

Left turns are a great way

of catching a glimpse of what lies behind you.

But life in the rearview mirror

is closer than it appears.

Step lightly on the brakes,

or the past will overtake you.

It's a shame that life has so many

damned blind curves.

Well, if the road is winding,

at least the scenery's nice.

And it looks like it's all downhill

from here.

July 18th, 1996

Mutual Paradox© Cammie S. Sinor, 2014

Insomnia

Up past my bedtime again.

I sleep best

when I wrap myself up in the belief

that you are here beside me.

Curled up around my memories,

along with an old, tear-streaked

shirt of yours

that probably smells more like me

than you at this point.

I convince myself

that the pillow is your back,

until I can almost feel you

breathing up and down.

So I drift off,

for an hour or a minute,

wake cold, restart the process,

and work myself fitfully toward

morning.

March 3rd, 1997

Mutual Paradox© Cammie S. Sinor, 2014

Transformation

My life is different, now.

It revolves around car repairs and bills

instead of chases and thrills.

I write, instead of poems, lists.

Life is planned now.

It doesnt just happen.

Sometimes I miss my freedom.

I was so sure of my identity, then.

Even if it was mostly a fantasy

of my own making.

Now, it's too rooted in reality.

Mirrored reflections grow unkind.

Yet, I am not blind to the past.

I remember pathos, loneliness, yearning.

Looking for a place to be me,

a woman to share with,

a life of fulfillment.

This I don't miss.

For I have that, now.

No longer lonely, I'm loved.

No longer empty, fulfilled.

No longer Knight Errant,

I am...

Lord of the Manor?

Mutual Paradox© Cammie S. Sinor, 2014

DIANA

I have chased her across many lifetimes. I don't remember when or how, in which lifetime I finally realized this. It was a gradual awareness. At first, I would simply recognize her on first meeting; recognize her from some place deeper than my mind. My gut would cry out to me that this was the one. I would tighten up, preparing for the chase, the hunt, the eventual capture. This time, it will happen, I'd think.