21 results for 'Deanna Meiresonne'
Keep me in your pretty purse, your pocket pens protect my curse.
Keep me in your soft embrace, your button downs a callous taste
A cruel remind,
A cackled case.
I remember now why minds erase.
I keep my heart away from face
the way we breathe, we fall like grace
stumble on my happy place
like children, daylight, streaming, space
I keep my hands where trouble stays
they know my ways, oh they know my ways.
Keep me in your hard-earned smile,
the way I laugh like a little child
You never let me destroy you... (more)
Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?The Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get toAlice: I don’t much care where.The Cat: Then it doesn’t much matter which way you go.Alice: …so long as I get somewhere.The Cat: Oh, you’re sure to do that, if only you walk long enough.
- Alice and Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
What have I done?
What will I do?
How will I move on?
Where will I go from here?
What will I do once I am there…
I can’t pretend to know a thing about growth and rebirth, about suffering or... (more)
Not like my take is a whole bundle of importance, but when I see something positive I do enjoy sharing that inspiration with other people.
[[[Desperate A.D.D. moment here: I'm waiting to be picked up for an 8am yoga wakeup call, and I just stepped outside to see if my ride was here, and even though it's a gray, slightly dismal morning, that first hit of morning air, when everything is still, and I wasn't rushing to my car, mmmm so refreshing. It was nice to stand outside for a moment and sun salute the sky with my GIANT ASS COFFEE MUG CLENCHED FIRMLY IN MY LITTLE FISTS OF MIGHT without... (more)
People don’t like steps.
They like motions, big ones.
They like to take these leaps of faith and remember that their life, the one they all a sudden once had, even if it were just a moment ago, was a bittersweet one, full of nostalgic remorse.
I look back on so many lives, so many phases of mine, it’s hard to remember which one was the real-est. When do we ever pause in our moments and say, now, everything I feel is me, and everything that I have surrounded myself with is the result of that.
I suppose that’s the continuous struggle with life, isn’t it?
Well, dear readers, it seems the internet gods have deemed it necessary to bless me with a night uninterrupted from tweets, chirps, pokes, chats, favorites, follows, friends, profiles, posts, shares, statuses, stickies, stumbles, tumbles, grumbles, flickrs, stickers, and whatever we can say that rhymes with quicker.
Quicker- quicker than your little ten waving digits can possibly rally over the keyboard, faster than my piano scales after being popped in the butt with a steroid injection at the ER. Faster than this meat cleaver I call an excuse for a brain can comprehend…or keep up with.... (more)
One hazy, sleepy Southern night.The moon was waxing acrossA clouded sky,I swear
Jacob, that mangy mutt, was scuttlingAcross the neighbors yardsilence.I met the gentleman,waiting therehis shadowdarkbehind an illusion of afront porch light
alluring.But I invited himin for perhapsa coffee or nightcap,
; I must sayI catered to him and wenursed chipped mugs collectedsince I was young, back when I firstfell in love. I know that now, I had
reallyand no bad endingcan change that.
he took off his hat,shuffled his hairhis eyes dullmy kitchen bright,hung it by the side... (more)
If you just want it bad enough, do you want it bad enough? When can you let go, please? Where will you finally go? Have you tagged on a reason? Have you found a home? You need some supplies first. Tent, backpack, you have to make arrangements. Things to plan, places to go, people to see. I’d suggest a map. You know, and I could reconnectlet the world knowyou’ll be out and aboutit’s time to seewhat we’re made ofWhat are you going to do?Bring the paints with you? That’s a lot of thinking, on the road like that,do you really think you can handle any more thinking? And lonely, what if you get lonely,... (more)
I opened my eyesbefore the dawn had chance to. She said six would have been finebut I wanted some time alone. I forgot to say goodbye to the dog. Mist hungprecariouslyover fields of corn, just careful not to touch the tips of houses. And a pinkglow softened the car rideI did a crosswordit’s been awhileand sudoku was too hard. I’ve been down these hallways many times.I know waitingareas well.We are a well-oiled cityfunctioningon a timerI see onlythe skinny people. I thought I’d sleep but four hourstick by, My mother should be used to thisby now. I wonder about my email,he must have forgotten... (more)
my torn down columnsdo not begin with adyingember.it's my head on a chestit's mornings,headaches,because he goes on aboutsnowboarding and Iwithout my coffee.To him, I'm perhaps dull.Loose,without rhythm.Bookswrite of itwild dirty but we are good.The death of usdone beautifully,and like art,depression breathes newnessintofraillungs.He passed out,the couch. I let the TVrun on,like crawling colored strobeslike smeared fingerpaintsacross myhotcheeksI'm a perfect angel.sadness,watching morningspread it's legs wide openfor his living room,when I'll be pushed outdropped offdone beautifully.(more)
These days you can usually find me at a bus stop, or walking, not driving. In either case, I'm continuously fading on the ins and outs of my life, one point to another. And I cannot really say that it is "one point to the next", because in most times I am simply stumbling between the same staggered points of my existence, and there is no backwards or forwards that exists. There are many parts of a whole; I suppose you could say of me, though I rarely consider myself a whole creature. I recognize myself only in my contradictions. For I am a creature of habit, and yet a creature of change. So... (more)