Blessed Samhain

I walk the vibrant woods
Noting the russet ground
And misty air

Feeling the first winds of fall
A slight chill makes me shiver
Pulling my cape tight

The scent of burning leaves
Lingers in crisp air
Like incense

I bite into an apple
And taste the lusciousness
Of this years harvest

While the brittle resonance of leaves
Rustle beneath each step
On the forest trail

My senses are alive
As I walk beside my ancestors
Blessed Samhain

The Ocean is your Voice

Emotions come crashing like waves
The ocean is your voice
Smoothing the rough edges
Like beach glass

This could just be a mirage
Maybe I am in the desert
The cool waters of your voice
Simply an illusion

I walk the beach
The warm sand tingles
Beneath my toes
Perhaps, perhaps…

Reaching the waters edge
I stand before the setting sun
The sky a brilliant red
Reflection on the ocean waves

Arms outstretched
Birds cry breaking
The sound
Of your ocean voice

Slowly the tide comes in
As the waves
Gently crash toward shore
My eyes close

I feel the cool salty waters
Beneath my toes
And can’t deny
These feelings

Replace my Heart

Please take my heart
Violently rip it from my chest
Step on it
Let the dog chew on it
Then bury it in a cemetery
So that it may rest in peace

Replace my heart
With a blue stone
Smooth, without rough edges
Cold as the Antarctic wind
Sew me shut
And let me live again

Toxic Waste

My mind can't play these games anymore
I cringe when you shut the bedroom door
the place we used to share our dreams
but now I don't know what that means

Darkness fills the empty space
and I'm sorry, sorry for the time we had to waste
it was real and so were you
but our dreams never did come true

Arms outstretched I feel the space
That filled my lungs with toxic waste
words that never do come true
images of me and you

Alone I'm complete
Alone I'm finally free
Finally free alone
alone, I'm not you, I'm me

This poem was written in July 2005, a year before I filed for divorce

Don't Wake Me

The darkness is drifting I can feel the dawn
I hear the morning dove cooing its song
The darkness is drifting but I try to hold on
If only another moment

For in the darkness, I can still see your face
I can smell the warmth of your skin
For in the darkness, imagination fills this empty space
And your piecing blue eyes, still look into mine

Darkness fades, as rays of light beam
The room fills with the promise of dawn
Darkness fades, and light replaces my dream
Aware again of this empty space

I long for the darkness, to embrace me
Like your arms once did
I long for the darkness, when fantasy takes hold
And imagination can take me away again

The Spiral - For Inanna

There are times we descend
Into the darkness of the underworld
Into the depths of despair
In these times, we are stripped
Of our exterior protection
Left standing naked and innocent
In the confines of darkness

Stripped of all our worldly possessions
We must face our fears
And in our death, we are reborn and become anew
Only a body dies
A soul lives on forever
Though weary it may become
In it’s present lifetime

Emerging from the darkness
The despair no longer clings
Like a cold dismal day
We can choose to walk the spiral
Ascend again to rejoin humanity
To be reborn into the light
Of the morning star

Walk on a Stary Night

Into the murky night I amble
Humbled to the stars
That light my way

Stumbling on the uneven ground
Casting shadows in the dark
My spirit trodden

It Started With a Kiss

When I met you, I loathed you
You challenged my thinking
You took me from my comfort zone
You pushed me past my limits
You infuriated me
And then you kissed me
And nothing has ever been the same

A heart dances behind blue eyes
Hands caress a cheek
Soft lips meet
Gentleness so sweet
She drinks from his lips

A hand strong and firm
Weaves fingers in her hair
Pulling her in roughly
Tongues dance
Passion fuels them

I wish you had the decency to say my name
You ask me to hold you and then turn away
Leaving me standing alone in the rain
One day my lips are on fire with your touch
The next I’m alone wanting you so much
Look into my eyes again like you did last night
Tell me your soul does not long for mine
Then walk away again
And tell me that nothing has changed

Through your Eyes, I see your Soul

Look into my eyes
Through a sea of blue
I see your soul
Shining and pure
The good and the evil
A moral decision must be made
Yours and mine
The truths will come

I look to the east and feel your words
I look to the south and feel your passion
I look to the west and feel your gentleness
I look to the north and feel your presence

To Hecate

I raise my arms to her beauty
Taking in the energy
Admiring the silver glow on my bare skin
I can feel her kiss me
In the twilight

I draw in a breath to make this moment real
Dew drops twinkle on the ground
Stars twinkle in the night sky
I am overwhelmed
In the nighttime

I sit in the damp grass
Partaking in sweet fruits and fine wine
Nourishing my body from the earth
I praise you dear Hecate
In the reflection

I allow sleep to take me
My dreams are vivid and hopeful
Filled with the promise of tomorrow
I awake to the warmth
In the sunlight

A Bumper Sticker

DON'T ask GOD questions, just REPORT for DUTY! That was a bumper sticker I saw the other day....

FlipFlopped

It flipped
Then it flopped
I wish it would flip again
I was just beginning to understand
Flopping is way too confusing

Everything has changed, yet it remains completely the same.

The Lake at Four in the Morning

Walking around the lake
The moon is ripe and almost full
The orange glow fills me with desire and passion
As the world sleeps.

Yet it's only an illusion
A reflection
The combination of moon and sun
Natures fantasy.

I watch as it sets
Turning from orange to red
Flaming the indigo sky
As it sets on the horizon.

Moonbeams reflect on the lake
Ripples on the water, swans grace
All elements are in perfect harmony
A moment of peace.

Sometimes lost, sometimes found but always searching, exploring and looking for beauty in the in the strangest places.

I Feel You Still

I feel you still, as if you are near
Each emotion, a wave running through me
I don’t always understand, these feelings
Sometimes my joy is filled, with waves of sadness
From out of the blue, without warning
These feelings, are not my own
Riding the waves, as if an ocean current
Carrying me away, to places unknown
Bringing me back, to familiar lands
I feel you still, and I’m reminded
That the connection remains still

A poem by an empathic about an empathic

I am a Dew Drop

On the astral plane
In a world of mundane

Daydreams linger
In a world full of pain

The past haunts me at times
So many days gone by

Yet in a dew drop I linger
Clinging to that last bit of hope

 Clinging to the dream
That glistens in the moonlight

Full Moon Desire

Come into my arms with fire
For the moon is ripe and full
My heart is full of desire

Burning lips I long to taste
Under the indigo sky
In a lovers embrace

I find you at the setting sun
This starry night
We become one

Obsession takes flight
As we dance our dance
Deep into the night

Every moment is meant to savor
The touch of velvet tongues
We drink in the flavor

Longing to make the moment last
In passions throws
The spell is cast

Cloaked in Illusions

Words weave their way toward my heart
Cloaked in the illusions you’ve created
But I’ve waited, with false hopes
For a daydream that was never mine to hold
Yours to fold

July’s heat brought a shooting star
I wished your name in its fiery glow
Though it wasn’t mine to wish for
I saw your face at twilight
In my dreams

Souls connected, by lives once known
Their paths cross, not by chance
To edify, to study, to cultivate
The souls merge for a time, but it won’t be
In this lifetime

The fantasy fades each day
A dancer of dreams once sweet
That was never mine to keep
Rainbows and unicorns became mundane
Magic was real

But dark muddy blue surrounds you
And angry green eyes haunt your dreams
One day, they will become a reality
And you’re deepest angst, the flip of a coin
Will be reversed

Some days the pain is subterranean
It leaves my soul open and raw
But it won't define, or confine me
I still miss the connection, that touched my spirit and
Fed my soul

Karma

No need to hex, Karma is you bitch now...

LaSalle Park - a new novel!

Sometimes a day starts out typical, but ends anything but…

38 year old Elaine Marie Gorsky (Lainy to those that really knew her) was the ultimate in femininity. She wasn’t just feminine she oozed it and when she was around, you knew you were in the presence of a modern day goddess. She had a sparkling personality, girlish giggle and a body that demanded attention from men and women alike. But don’t let that fool you! Lainy was not someone to take lightly and if you crossed her, or took her kindness for granted, you’d only make that mistake once.
It was a hot and miserable day in Buffalo New York, but Lainy arrived at Channel 2 WGRZ news dressed in the perfect suite, her hair effortlessly tossed and her makeup perfect. Lainy loved her part time job as a special reporter for the news station. It gave her just enough money to pay her everyday bills while she worked on her novel. Lainy aspired to be a novelist and she found her job at the station worked perfectly with her life style.
“Good morning Elaine, Mr. Bothwell is running a little late, do you have your interview questions ready?” Craig Horton the morning producer greeted her. Of course it was a rhetorical question, Lainy never prepared notes for her interviews, she just went on gut instinct and Lainy’s gut rarely steered her wrong. She smiled, her blue/green eyes twinkling, pointed to her head and nodded. Craig sighed and walked away. He knew better than to expect anything less than a flawless interview from her, but Craig was paid to be a perfectionist, it was his job and he was good at it.
Today’s interview was with Mr. Dwayne Bothwell, an independently wealthy business man who wanted to by the property at La Salle Park on the waterfront along Lake Erie off the I190. This was government property and despite the 4.2 billion dollars Mr. Bothwell was offering for the site, the good people of Buffalo, New York were not set on selling off their little piece of nature in the city for an exclusive golf resort. There was already the Buffalo Yacht Club just on the other side of Porter Street. The fine people of Buffalo were outraged, but the city is in hard times and this could also be the boost it needed to bring people back to Buffalo and boost the local businesses.
Mr. Bothwell arrived 45 minutes late wearing an Armani suite and a pompous grin on his face. Lainy didn’t look intimidated at all, she shook his hand smiling her effervescent smile and sat beside him crossing her legs like a lady, taking notice of Mr. Bothwell’s eyes which were following the curves of her voluptuous body. Lainy was used to this kind of notice and wasn’t afraid to use it as a vantage point.
She began the interview by letting Mr. Bothwell talk about himself. How he went from a bright, yet poor boy on the streets of Brooklyn to the savvy and very rich business man he is today. Bragging a bit about his street smarts and telling the same stories he told every interviewer. Lainy allowed this, letting him become comfortable so he’d let his guard down just a little. Craig watched from behind the camera men, nervously excited, knowing what was going to happen next.
It is said that Mr. Bothwell who was born in South Africa has ties to the Musina Mafia in South Africa, though those ties have never been established, some of his financial dealings have had a shady past. Besides, the funds for La Salle Park has been unsubstantiated as of yet.
Once Mr. Bothwell was comfortable and just a bit cocky (thinking this pretty woman was just another silly reporter) Lainy hit him hard with questions. At first he smiled seemingly amused by her, then, as the questions grew tougher, he became almost indignant until finally, he smiled, looked at his watch and apologized for having to cut the interview short – he did, after all, have an important meeting with Mayor Byron W. Brown in thirty minutes and you mustn’t keep a Mayor waiting! Lainy smiled her brilliant smile, thanked him for his time and asked him “Mr. Bothwell, if I may, why do return to South Africa so often and meet privately with known members of the Musina Marfia if you have no ties to them?” Mr. Bothwell looked straight through her with an ominous glance. “This is unsubstantiated; I refuse to answer such ridiculous accusations young lady.” And with that, he turned on his heal and stormed out of the station. The camera caught every moment of his reaction where you can be assured, it was replayed for all the viewers on the evening news. Along with Lainy’s big smile – yes, she nailed this one and Craig smiled a sigh of relief mixed with excitement, they had a great interview.
Lainy followed the camera crew into the editing room and silently observed as they worked their magic. Lainy didn’t like to interrupt the creative process. She’d done her job, now it was time to let the rest of the station do theirs. Once the piece was ready for airplay, Lainy and a few of the crew went out for a nice lunch.
Her work day was over by 1:00 pm. She ran home and changed into a red tank and denim shorts, grabbed her three girls; Miranda (3), Finona (9) and Jossylin (12), then headed to La Salle Park with her laptop and a steel water bottle filled with 6 oz. of wine. The kids could play in the park while Lainy wrote a chapter or two.
They all slathered up with sunscreen and the girls giggled and frolicked in the park for a few hours while Lainy sipped her wine and slipped into her world of fantasy. The sun was strong and she kept calling the girls back to drink some water, munch on fruit or reapply sunscreen. Today was bliss to Lainy, this is who she was; mother, reporter, and writer. She could be all things at once.
Around supper time, Lainy started to pack up their things when she felt someone watching her. She looked up to see Mr. Bothwell and another man standing a few feet away. She smiled and waived them over, a bit nervous that they had been watching her and her girls, but still choosing to remain friendly and professional – after all, that’s who Lainy was.
The two men approached and Mr. Bothwell introduced his lawyer Jonathan Brady to her. She shook his had politely and again took pleasure in the way Mr. Bothwell noticed the feminine curves in her body. The men looked ridiculous in a park, in business suits on such a hot and muggy day. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Lainy packed up her kids and they headed for home. It had been a long, hot afternoon and she was sure that after a light dinner and a bath, the three girls would drift effortlessly to so sleep. Her husband Douglas was away on business this week, so Lainy could continue writing. She didn’t have another interview at the station until Friday.

Excerpt from; LaSalle Park

TYPO
The desert sun was hot as Lainy trudged up the the mountain at dusk. She thought long and hard about her question, she would only be given one chance to ask, to understand.

Once Lainy reached the top, she approached Eenwa, the wise and bowed in respect, then inhaled one deep breath, ran her fingers through her thick, moist, unruly hair and composes herself before the mighty one.

"You come with a question my child?" Eenwa asks in a gentle,yet commanding tone.

By Eenwa's command, Lainy stands up tall and trys to appear confident. "Why can't we delete people from our lives the way we delete a typo?" She asks in controlled words.

"A typo is an unconscious mistake, a slip of the fingers. Every person who enters our life has a purpose, a meaning. They are hear to teach us even if it causes us pain. Your presence here tonight is prof of that. You are not hear by accident, our paths were meant to cross." The wise one said with conviction.

Lainy stood there for a moment, letting Eenwa's words fill her.

"But I need to let him go" Shed told the wise one.

"You already have, but he will remain with you forever. He is a part of you, and you a part of him. But you have removed the layers and now you see truth." She said with a finality in her voice and Lainy knew it was time to leave.

As she made her way down the mountain, her heals digging into the dry sand, she noticed the succulent agave along the trail. A king snake slithers and she stops to watch as it makes patterns in the sand. Slowly the realization takes hold, the wise one is right. This is not a chance, not a mistake, it's not a typo. Tonight has purpose.

It's Only a Dream

After midnight, sleep won’t come
The thoughts keep playing through my mind
The thoughts of you, your amber eyes

Two am the clock keeps ticking
Images keep going through my mind
It's been many, many years since I've felt so dead inside

I see us underneath the moon
Outside beneath the stars
The sky a velvet blue, the smell of winter in the woods

As we sit beside the fire, roaring in the winter cold
The snow flakes fall around us, but the fire keeps us warm
The snow flakes fall without a sound

A wise and ancient man, is sitting by your side
He talks to you in tongues of old
His words to you are wise

You nod at him politely, and slowly turn to face me
Your amber eyes meet mine
You touch my cheek so tenderly

And I know you’ve said goodbye