100 on Change (again)

Life is one of those funny things. Once you think you have it figured out, it changes. Drastically. Good change, bad change. It doesn’t matter. On occasion I’ve even been known to confuse the two. They both carry an emotional weight that can leave me hyperventilating, wishing I never set foot on whatever path led me there. Sometimes it’s even a small change that brings about a tidal wave. A desire that refuses to be stilled. A smile. A word. It ripples out into the world. The power of change cannot be denied. It simply is, a fact of life.

100 on Voice

It starts in a rush, the low thrum of vocal reconnaissance. It carries along the skin, stands the hairs on end. Such a simple thing, this rumble of words. They reverberate deep in your chest, catch in your throat. Live in my ears. All the things you have to say fumbling over me in tidal waves. Trapped and wrapped in vulnerability, this sound penetrates all defenses. It’s welcomed to the core. Changing integral parts of me, these spider fingers of filigree wander old corridors, tickle bones, wrestle muscles and sinew to life. Everything sings because your voice rains down gold. 

100 on Burnt

Burnt. It was how I made my eggs – which always left me thinking of you. When did I tire of the highborn drama, the ranting and raving? Was that just yesterday? You left me carcinogenic with a rotted out core. Used up and adrift far from the shore. Burnt like my toast, unable to be salvaged with a scrape of the knife. Soul hungry and weary with nothing left to give. And yet there is a spark, a space that cannot be touched, a place where burns cannot leave a mark. Here where I stand, on the opposite shore.

100 on Writing

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It comes in waves, the good, bad and ugly. It sits in my soul, scratching to get to a page. It is my nemesis, my beloved, my best friend. Word upon word, building, crashing, digging deeper into the shadows where others live. Schizophrenia? Maybe. Lurking below the surface of a rational mind is a Dr. Suess inspired ride. Voices of pasts, of futures yet to live. Waiting. Waiting to dance across the stage, speak whatever words fall from frozen mouths to ink dipped quills that tap, tappity tap, tap, tap tap, in keyed up rhythms on letters fingers dance upon.

100 on Beast

It sits in me, this restless urge to fight the depths of what I do not know.  To bring light to the space where darkness grows. The void, pitch black, the feared and the not. Sacred somehow in its time and space. Of me it does not care, I am merely the beast knocking at its door. The fire breathing tendrils and caught up smoke, trapped and panting with rapid eye. I am the nothing to its all. The attached and unaware. Still I dive the depths and search in frantic waves. This thing that is me, aware and free.

100 on Hunger

Its sits inside me, an eternal flame, demanding quietly, gently, something more. Breathing it in, breathing it out, it hungers for all I can give. Every experience, taste and sound it wants to know. Every touch it wants to feel. A bottomless pit I cannot feed enough. It wears my skin. Knows no bounds as it reaches for you, eager to sample yet again another sweet drop of tumultuous heat, rousing from the deepest places in me to the sky.  Somehow to bear witness, to prove with nothing more than breath the sanctity of us. Satiation there will never be.

100 on Bliss

The salted sleep, the ocean waves, sand between my toes, safety, peace, the world revolving round, trees in the wind, all the simple things neglected or that which has been taken for granted. The heart fractured and now opening, healing, the stars in the sky, books, fingers entwined. The innocence returned with wisdom entwined. Songs, peals of laughter, dogs barking and a smattering pitter pattering of rain falling. Knowledge life’s enumerable pains all pass. It is not the big moments remembered, more the day to day grind forgotten in its simplicity and the growth of soul, now that is bliss.

100 on Content

It is a word I rarely use these days. Seems I misplaced contentment upon entering the birth of another year. Funny how strongly I held it, how well I remember the feel and the taste. For something that so quickly slipped my grasp I do not recall when it was lost. I’d chase it if I thought that was wise; drink it in greedily the way one thirsts on a hot summer’s day. It is there, lurking, felt down below where the Soul grows. A fissure waiting to explode, I’m content within the knowing the peace is stirred from underneath. Continue Reading →

100 Words on Adapt

I’ve adapted to the chaos, to the push pull, to the thoughts going round and round on this merry go round here alone inside my head. I’ve adapted to the dance of two steps forward one step back, of singing a little off key. I’ve adapted to never knowing just how things will go and the unexpected surprises and ambushes life likes to throw. I’ve adapted to the fact change is one of those things I can love and hate, sometimes at the same time. I’ve adapted to knowing what was, is no longer what is. A never ending process. Continue Reading →

100 Words on Google

My God Send. What on earth did I do before Google? Actually try to remember things? Got an argument over a not so known fact, need directions, or have a book report due the next day? Count on Google to save your day. Want to download a picture, find a gift, can’t remember the name of a song, just the lyric repeating endlessly in your head. Go ahead, just Google. Be a Google King or Queen. Everyone can get in on the fun. Need to learn something new? How to repair that old shoe or the latest game walk through?