Make me a big tall tree

Today has been a day of mixed emotions for sure, like what Anais Nin said about the stars tugging at her hair- my blood has been casting a spell where memories spin with eye of newt and spiced shadows. When my body conjures these mists my mind knows not how to stir in its heavy skull cauldron, there are two decisions to make. Either burn with my lost sisters, those who crumbled and burnt under the bullshit gravity of those around them- toppling like Salem; or I live my life alive. I hop on my broomstick and fucking ride bitches- naked and singing and covered in mud and smiling so big the people below think the ‘O’ of my mouth is the moon.

In other words I go and walk with my blessed best friend Nelson in our heartline fields.

 

IMG_1119Here is the beautiful boy himself. You can’t see in this sleepy picture, but Nelson is missing one eye. We rescued him a few years a go after he was hit by a car and abandoned- we have both been hurt (though in extremely different ways) by those who were supposed to care.

BUT THERE IS MORE TO LIFE THAN SADNESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FOR EXAMPLE- We both love to dance, have bootys that wobble, love long walks and cuddles with each other.

Today I walked with Nelson and we ran together as I was singing so lung-ingly that my mother would make me a big tall tree (I love you Florence)… we are at home where the wild things are, which is where the witches live (my heart is burnt but not buried this time…)

This posts poem is dedicated to my rescuer- Nelson, thank you for keeping my energies pure xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Nelson

A chocolate cherry nose;
river wetness shimmering weed-green
catches like apple thuds.
Your chest like the underside of a
small boat in the playing of hugs,
little prayers of my insides.
Your whole weight hurled excited to my feet,
gasping with smiles big as cows
skimming clouds into letters of your
silent words. Yet,
barks don’t translate as desired-
nightmares glean in metal monsters
who just can’t speak dog.
Take my words instead. Chew down to marrow.
A bowl full of mud-kissing boot sounds and purple clover heart beats.
You woof human best- the lifted paw of consolation
in my lap, soft head nudged between knees
shining small spaces alive.
Sunsets call in uncharted fields, throwing
that huge glowing apricot or tennis ball
out amongst sky billows ready to chase after.

Author: mollygbeale

POETESS AND FAIRY GRRRL Got tomboy graces and a phat heart singin' "middle fingers up fuck the system" because nothing about you aint' precious

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s