Blink

            -"Saints" crafted by Jimmy Abbegg

Only faces I see- 
Smudge-edged and rough
Warm at their backs
Hung from a woven
Wrought iron fence

Grim eyed and
Waiting, perhaps
Wanting but only
Staring-their flat,
Colorless eyes catch
On mine and we
Do not blink for
The longest of
Time until my eyes collapse
And leak
And must be shut

They do and reopen-
The faces still there-
Etched in coal,
 It seems, though I
 Dare not chase my
Finger along the
Canvases to clarify-
I draw up on my
Toes, they crack
Slightly and I
Watched for the
Faces to react-
They didn't.

Rough ruby lips
Part as my questions
Whisper out
Were you not 
Once alive, be holding 
These expressions with 
Tiny-haired flesh 
Striving muscles pulling 
Against aching bones 
And emotion chasing 
In your blood? 
Did you not once have 
A body 
With hands, feet, rib cage 
And sturdy legs?
I rested against my
Heels again, feeling my own
Body thank me in relief
Glaring, intently, glaring
For the answer-
I turned abruptly
But stopped
Before me were the living
Faces- full body
Breathing, sucking air
Into their pink lungs I felt sure
A soft trimmer, a beat
Found itself in their hearts
Once dead- captured
With brush and ink and
Hung on a wrought iron fence
But now
Glistening, wet eyes- alive
Gazing up at themselves
Remembering, never wishing
To return

Caught in a 1930's Radio Show

Settled in a sepia hue
The crackle of the
Fire blankets the
Stillness

The constriction of her
Belt is overwhelming
The sweat beneath her gloves-
Dripping

They are gone, thrown
To the floor, raw red
Lipstick had been of no
Benefit 

To-night she entered alone-
Artificial flowers on
Tapestries and couches brought no
Amenity

Yanking at her hair
She stripped if of pins
Thrashing her head a bout,
Untamed

Earrings, necklace, bracelets
Alike, tumbling to the ground
The light remains
Discrete

Stumbling in the shadows
Collapsing against unforgiving excuses
For cushions, breathing in the sting of
Loneliness

Eyes so exhausted from
Searching refuse to remain
Exposed eye lids become
Locked 

Palms, fingers pad around
Finding the switch- turning it
An orchestra resounds against the
Walls 

Elbow bent over her dozing face
Finally able to find rest
Her mind dreams of handsome
Perfection

Another enters without
Notice- swiftly, silently
Clearing the space between
Them

 Kneeling at her side
Calloused hands gently cup
Hers- deep brown eyes fluttering
Open

A brilliant, bright smile
A nod of his head
He cradles her with
Ease

 Lifting her from the couch
Letting her feet slip to the floor
Through fits of joyous
Laughter

Drawing her close, the tips
Of their blouses kiss-
He guides her to the chorus of
Orchestras 

Their dancing slows- resting her
Cherried cheek against his chest
Twirling, her locks whipped
Freely
Fastening her eyes shut knowing
This feeling endures anything of sight
Delight catches in her throat
She finds it hopeless to
Breathe

Girl Time

It was just us girls
 Doing girly things
 That these girls love to do-
So many tiny
 Glass bottles
Clanked together
Showering down
 Into a rainbow hilltop,
 Sifting through them with
Naked hands
My fingers clutched
 A royal purple-
Blair chose
 Bonnet blue-
Emily- hot pink
With sparkles,
Fits of giggles
 Echoed through
 Against sea wooded 
Walls and ocean air
 Not a care in the world-
Not a boy in sight,
Just doing what girls
 Do best-as purple
 Coating hardened over each
 Ripe nail
A gust of tension swept around the
Room-
Gone Instantly-
Cracked by Indian roars of
Ruckus raising creatures- Boys
 Screams, so loud they blistered
 The window panes, Rang from our mouths
But we knew just what to do- three against two
An easy pin
Flicks of
 Purple, blue, sparkly pink
Doing what girls do best-
Revenge

Beautiful

South Carolina summers are unbearably hot...humid... and down right miserable. A soft breeze is rare to say the very least. But, nevertheless, when the time to write comes, it can't simply wait- it must be carried out for fear of never being remembered again. And it's here amidst spiky grass and dead pine needles under the drilling rays of the summer sun that I think of the most beautiful thing a girl of any age can think of. Her mother.
However, it took me seventeen years to finally appreciate and recognize just how beautiful my own mother is. Actually, it was just last week while sitting in a crowded dorm lobby of a college nearby when I did.  The room was musty from the amount of tears being shed from everyones eyes, including my own. Each girl had drawn their knees into their chest as if trying to create a safer place for their tears to fall rather than the floor. We sat, our dripping eyes cast upwards towards our fellow camper, our dear friend. Besides the sniffling of runny noses, only her voice could be heard as she spoke with words pouring straight from her heavy heart. Everyone was listening intensely to a story of a mother who never cared, a mother who never loved but rather a mother who neglected, ignored, and degraded. The speaker went on to say that she never knew how to make her mother proud, how to make her mother care about her, or how to make her mother love her. The room was completely silent when the story was through. Feeling as if my heart and stomach had been ripped our of my body, I realized then and there that I was incredibly blessed. I realized in that gut wrenching moment how utterly beautiful my mother is and always will be.
Don't get me wrong, my mother is a very physically beautiful woman, but the beauty I'm referring to is a beauty that can only shine from the life and heart of someone. It is because of my friend's heart breaking life story that not another day will go by when I'm not on my knees thanking God for blessing me with my mother. Because without my mother? I wouldn't even want to know where I would be, or better yet who I would be. It is because of my mother's endurance in believing in me through the years that I have come to believe in myself. It is because of all the things my mother does for me that I feel special and wanted. And it is because of the love my mom so graciously exudes everyday that I am left with a tangible example everyday of how God loves me, unconditionally.
I could go on, but Mom, if you're reading this I hope you see how much you mean to me. I hope you feel the sincerity of my words. But most importantly, I hope you feel beautiful because that's exactly what you are. And if you ever doubt that? Read this, I would be happy to remind you. I love you, Beautiful.

Insomnia

Insomnia is a gift sometimes. Take for instance last night as a good example where a night doomed to tossing and turning became a one of mental wandering. As I laid there on my back, squishing my eyes together, willing myself to "please fall asleep, please fall asleep" I realized I was fighting a win-less battle. Great... just what I needed.
So, accepting my defeat, I got up, flipped the radio on and began thumbing through an old magazine.
Thinking back on the next couple of moments I can't help but chuckle at the similarity it has to my earlier piece of prose, "Valentine's Day", but I can't hide the truth.
I guess you could say my increasing boredom from the magazine was easily swayed when David Guetta's top-chart song came seeping through the speakers. To say the very least- it captured my attention. It goes a little something like this "I can't win, I can't reign I will never win this game without you, without you, I am lost, I am vain I will never be the same without you, without you I can't rest, I can't fight, All I need is you and I without you, without you...I won't soar, I won't climb, If you're not here I'm paralyzed without you, without you, I can't look, I'm so blind I lost my heart, I lost my mind without you..."
I know you must be wondering why I could possibly want to dedicate an entire blog post to this over-played, cheesy, secular love song, but take a moment and reread the excerpt from the song. Then, take another moment and think about your attitude towards your daily walk with God. Should our love for Him not sound like this desperate need for Him everyday? Should we not be singing this love song to Him with the say we live? Because, it's right, are we not nothing without Him? I know I am.
In these late night moments, I was struck. Even after the song was over, I pulled up the lyrics on the Internet. Reading and rereading. God showed me something new each and every time I read it. He showed me that this love song is really all about Him. (maybe not the intention of the artist, but  for His purpose for me, it works) The line "If you're not here I'm paralyzed..."gave me chills. Thinking immediately about my very own life... how I think these things I do are getting me "somewhere in life". But, through the words of this song, God showed me that doing it for myself and by myself all accounts to nothing, literally running around like a chicken with its head cut off Sure, I may be physically going places, but accomplishing nothing. That's paralyzation. Unless I take-on life depending on God, I will forever be paralyzed in life, but with Him I can put my life into motion.
Thank goodness for insomnia, it was a gift last night- ending  a seemingly dreary  night in a quiet lullaby of prayerful whispers...."I will never make it by without you, Jesus...I'll lose my heart, I'll lose my mind, without you,Jesus...zzzzzzzzzzzz..."

Stairs

I'm barefooted- 
Feet sinking into the earth
No one but wilderness guards me
Feeling masked by
Gloom and fog
No urge to carry on
No will to take one step
An effort far too great-
A task much too daunting 
Awaits me now
Barely able to see one
Of one thousand 
Tiny steps guiding
Me to the ringing 
Far above- I wished 
For a moment
I could fly-
If even to fly away
A tiny surge of 
Musty air blew
Against my back 
Rocking me forward- 
already unsteady
Stumbling towards the stairs 
I landed at the bottom-
Downcast my eyes were 
The entirety of my way
Barely glimpsing the tops of trees
As they became specks and 
The clouds as they
Blanketed me awhile
Nor did my eyes 
Catch sight of the 
Shimmering gold doors 
To a home that stretched
Far beyond anything
Seen through my 
Grayed eyes-
Heart thundering 
Limbs twitching in
Exhaustion 
Finally reaching the top-
Collapsing at the foot 
Of the golden doors
Dozing immediately
An image less dream
Met me- only
Solid black played 
Behind my drooping eyelids until
I heard laughter
And singing-
It made me sick
How could this place be so joyful? This
New home housing
The woman I love- taking her from me!
Rage tingled in every portion of my being-
Jolting me into a 
Standing position- I
Stopped immediately
Awestruck
There in the arms 
Of a large, kind-looking 
Man, she sat
Droplets stung in my eyes
She smiled, she was joyful
I could not bring 
Myself to move
As he began to sew, carefully-
What a perplexed look I must have had
As he continued to 
Sew very large, luxurious 
Feathers into her-
Without pain
Her smile broadened
With each stroke 
Finishing up she gasped
And she kissed him
Before fluttering 
Away- 
I began to call 
After her - fearing
The loss once more
But the man- 
His whisper hushed 
The entire room as
He called me
By name -his 
Voice full of compassion
Explaining this place
Is not where I belong-
Though my arrival is much anticipated
Coming one day-
But that I must go now-
I could not,
Would not leave
I told him so
For I wished to see
Her again-
To bring her with 
Me- to never let
Her go again
He rose and lead me
Calmly to the 
Golden doors saying-
You have seen
Her angel wings
But you must leave to feel them
He was gone instantly
Sighing
I surveyed the thousands of stairs
Once more
Dreading my descent 
A chilling wind whipped
Around me pebbling my skin, gone-
By a warm feeling wrapping
Around me
As I started towards the bottom the feeling stayed-
Swearing I saw luxurious white-
Do you believe in an angel's wings?

Art Class

A beast
Stomps inside
Rummaging
All the day long-
Tingling
In my toes
Growling
In my stomach
Catching
In my throat
Slipping amongst
The muscles in
My forearm
Bending at my elbow
Journeying
Greedily
To a formed hand
Whispering
Its secrets - like
Gears in a
Music box
Turning graphite
Swirling it
Until its
Finished -
To be left
Unformed,
Untouched
To be seen
For what it is
A beast
Free and beautiful