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On a Mountain Top~Within a Dream
Just go/she said that night/just go/ and then the sky opened up to reveal/clarity/peace/where just moments before/sorrow/anger/greed/for more time/ the light is out/a light that provided so much/guidance/reassurance/strength/so we burned a fire/every night/for a week/wood leaves branches/to replicate your warmth/to cleanse/to shed light on the path you chose/your life was nothing if not Nobel/your heart/massive/so big/so full/its painfully human operation/could not continue/immense/like the sky above/fierce/like the fire before us/we are burned from it/validation/a burn that will never heal/wear it with pride/like a badge/proof/that you left your mark on those who were close enough/to catch your fire/to catch your light/the sky opened up/and we were burned.
Just go/she said that night/find peace/ Find love.
The sky opened up/just for us/as if to say/I’m still here/ you just have to look/ Look harder/ Look up/look in/I’m here/beating in your chest.
Just go she said that night/ just go.
And the sky opened up/clarity. Peace. Light.
© Chelsea Kelleher 6/22/12
i feel a bit like Icarus. i flew very close to the Sun & i have been
consistently crashing back to Earth, nearly every day, for the last few weeks.
coming back to The Real World, “re-entry” since submerging myself in balance/peace/tranquility;
for four straight days, is like being born into chaos all over again.
i love this city. there is Emerald in my veins. but goddamn. it seems more crowded than ever before.
i used to love that. i feel very cramped now.
maybe we should call it resurfacing, post submersion.
i feel that is more accurate than “re-entry”
gasping for breath, i came back to the surface.
i feel i have expanded, grown a little more. balanced & bright.
then i hit traffic–
Crash & Burn.
As I intake, internalize & process
The vitamin D that is offered
in abundance, freely
By the blazing Sun,
I wonder, briefly, if I will somehow
Miss, the whip of the freezing Wind
The bitter snap of Frost
The icy sputter of Winter Rain
A Cloud passes & I move back into a patch of Light
No, I think not
We’ve paid our dues to Winter
The Fall will come quickly & before we know it, we will be begging for
This light, heat & the vitamins we are born to crave
Drink it in, internalize, process
Bodies lift upward & drink it in.
<3 April1st 2014
Searing/ hot/ pain
Stinging down/ flushed cheeks
Cutting through/ again and again
Spilling over/ and over
Red rims/puffy eyes.
Too many/ have been there before
This huge gap/ this enormous wound
hasn’t even/ begun to heal
Torn up/ ripped off/ again.
A band aid/ a drink
Wouldn’t help/ would make it worse
It’s almost/ laughable
How much/ can go wrong
Can be taken/ away
“we’re only human/ just star stuff/
Floating around/ a big blue/ globe
Connect/ and hope/ you’ll be here
To see your face/ to laugh/
Uncontrollably/ again/ and again.
That sound is/ eternal/ in my ears
In an instant/ it will be/ a sweet memory.
That stings/ that slips out/ that creeps in
I was fine/and then–
Down my cheeks/ in public
Onto the page/ the middle of the day
Without reacting/ it’s okay
I just thought—
Without/ thinking first.
Originally posted on Copious Love Productions:
Written by: David Ives
Directed by: Shana Cooper
Seattle Repertory Theatre
Tickets : Through March 9th
Sometimes theatre throws you a curve ball. I know this might be hard to believe but Venus in Fur, threw me a giant curve ball. While taking in shows around town it is not odd for me to cry openly (Its my default theatre emotion), laugh out loud, or cheer like a crazy person if its appropriate to do so. It’s no secret I adore cabaret and burlesque, but I don’t think I have ever been more theatrically turned on, than I was sitting in the audience during Venus in Fur. It is hot, smart and ridiculously clever. David Ives has written a intricate, intimate story that demands your full attention with every single line. The whole experience is insatiable.
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Janice/ struts down the hallway/ purposefully poised steps/ click-claking perfectly in time/ bouncing/ with an audible beat/ brief case, one hand/ coffee, the other/ gliding/ her hips open a door with ease/ carefully, stepping up each stair/ careful not to trip/ she rounds the corner, pride/ “She walks with such purpose”/ Janice sits, perched/ carefully, she pecks at some keys/ before gliding/ again, toward the parking lot/ Janice flips her hair, from under her Appropriately Accessorized scarf/ and prepares for a long, chilly walk/ remembering the schedule/ she picks up the pace/ Janice is Absolutely, Positively/ Always-On-Time/ smiling, beaming/…
Just before she tips off the Automatic Door/ to Exit/ the Sun shines through the glass, blinding her/ momentarily/ she blinks, catches her reflection/ CLICK/…
Evie stumbles forward/ flustered/ into the queue, stepping awkwardly/ it is as if she is Lost/ momentarily wandering/ rumpled/ tattered/ strung out with Mania/ she stares out into the parking lot, for a full 15-20 seconds/ the Automated door behind her/ closing/ opening/ over and over and over again/ Funny, how switching is triggered by that kind of thing/ The Cold/ The Sun/ The Reality of your Unstable/ Mental/ Health/ staring at you/ Right in the face/ that you barely recognize/ Closing/ Opening/ All it takes is one glimpse/ CLICK/ the spell is broken/
Who are you today?/ It only takes/ a second/ “Who are you doing this for?”/ don’t/ answer/
i just got un-settling news. death stuff. not the usual traumatic death stuff, so this is different.
a goddess of a woman has passed from this planet and is moving onto new adventures. she was incredibly dear to me, my self appointed fairy grandmother. a life long librarian and the person to give me my treasured copy of alice’s adventures in wonderland; both published and annotated versions. she sent me a rare book and a tea cup for every birthday, every holiday, until i was 18. until she couldn’t remember anymore. her books were always, ALWAYS eerily what i needed to be reading at that time. a true, to her bones, librarian. its the only profession she ever had. inside the book cover would always be a handwritten letter. i have every letter she ever sent me since birth. they are inside each book, all on my shelf. currently, as i sit at my raven’s writing desk, right to my left (she would appreciate this) is a book titled ‘treasure trails in art’ with a handwritten letter just inside the cover. i read the letter every time i feel un-inspired and the book helps me beat down any art based fears i might have from time to time.
her legacy lives inside pages.
exactly how she wanted it.
i will leave you with some of her wise words.
“visit the library, read a book & drink some tea. but don’t forget to look up from time to time so you can have a proper adventure!”
Entrances & Exits
I walk fast/ up that hill/ with no effort at all/
like a blur/ of intent
I walk with purpose/ not with poise
I talk fast/mumbling/ awkward/ incoherent
most of the time jumbled/mumbled sentences/ not meaning a thing
It makes sense/when I write it down
Yet someone/ once compared me/ to grace
I laughed/sipped my drink
“Grace” he said, “you remind me/ of grace”
I stumble/mumble/…“I’m ridiculously well-rehearsed”
we laugh/but that’s just it
I put on my costume/paint my face/rehearse my lines/ over/& over/
& over/until/ I’m ready
To make an entrance/I walk fast
toward my destination/preform my part/ & exit
the flame spits and sputters with life
i can make black smoke erupt from the tip
by commanding it to come forth
by commanding the elements to ignite
just as i command the ink to flow from this pen
onto this page, into this world
productivity, productivity, productivity
the creative process is not unlike this flame
burning in this candle
we burn these words
into this world via this page
ignited this flame produces smoke that fills this space
celebrating this moment of clarity and concentrated creativity
acknowledging the ritual that takes place
we both burn brightly into the evening
smoke and flame