A Braid of Frost and Felt

A previously joint project in experimental conjoined creativity...perhaps it will wander back there someday..right now it is what it is, somewhat solo...mostly poems and pictures...occasionally wandering into my interests in Houdini, Lewis Carroll, keys, time, birth and many more of the odd explorations that make me, well me

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that summer of oranges and ignored warnings

i was standing on an iron edge, of home and the unknown
the air full of endings, or beginnings, or both
where i am careful, i am confusion
looking out, looking for grounding
my balcony, only five floors up, still enough to see
the lights, the stretch of city, downtown busy into the dark night
the vantage point does not give me clarity
i can’t see what comes next
it is too dark, the sirens are too loud, my pulse is too fast
so i focus small, to the looming lights, the shadows thrown
the befores of thresholds, now housed in different apartments
and back to the orange kiss of breakfast
the morning
the highlight
when i closed my still tired eyes to the bright spray of citrus
then ate the fruit, knowing i would taste like that too
as i rushed on through
the afternoon
running from one office to the second
the summer of two jobs, wrapping up in rain
my dress stuck to me, my dress see-through and me opaque
past the spinning cube, turning up third avenue
to hot coffee, to the second office
to send an email
that you would read, dry and back in the first
maybe you’ll wish you had walked with me
maybe it is inappropriate for you to read
telling of the orange oil on my lips and the soaked fabric of my dress
too late
i hit send
appropriateness has never been a strength for me
i wonder what you will think
the evening
full of confessions and confrontations
your friend warns i might be too immature
another insists on my interest, encouraging while she flirts herself
your therapist, with all his authority, said to stop seeing me
both of us visions of vulnerability
and here i am
leaning against my dark building, on this sidewalk, in the siren song
listening to you, to this all
and striving to simplify, to somehow save you from me too
and though i am pressed to the brick, wrapped in the arms of us, trying to make sense
and it is what you want, and it too would be citrus bright
i am trying so hard to be good
so you will not taste my orange-kissed-mouth tonight
instead i leave your hands full of paper pages
words of explaining me, so you can see all these imperfections i house more clearly
you will read through my handwriting
through what i can say without my voice in the way
with just the rumble of the train to back up my claims
and i will stand on the iron of my balcony and wait
thinking of simple things, like oranges
and wonder
how so much confusion can grow up in one summer

by, earthboundpixie

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will wonders never cease

i am drinking this story
this cordial, this elixir, this quicksilver into me
that maybe i shouldn’t be
and now i need to catch my footing
because all is dizzy and instead of me, the room is spinning
and i have this extra sense
this awareness of my mouth, and fingertips
the weight of my dress, the way my skin is waiting
and my eyes are watching the silver moon
resume its cycle, through circles
through the counting of time
forward and backward, and pause
to where everything stops
where i am standing inside and unsure
this is the moment to move, to grasp
to drink the medicinal marvel while it lasts
and so i move, i leap, i step outside
no looking back
no thinking, no thinking, just go
under the silver shine, i turn my back on sleep and beliefs
and lines of time
forget it all
because this world has more to show than simply what i think i know
so, i will lose the limits, break the rules
let myself go to the moment, to the show, to the trust of the known
and the unknown
to where they overlap
recreating themselves, re-embracing themselves, remembering
and discovering
under the circle shine moon
under the darkest new sky
with pulse, with purpose, with wonders
and there, in the vastness of possibility
you somehow stand right with me
before us, within us
the darkness, the contrast
the story writing itself around us
falling upon us, collecting itself into pools, into glinting glass
like a merry-miracle-maker of the past
like little sips of story, a concentration of disbelief
caught up in the somehow suspensions of belief
and i hope you will trust me when i offer you a drink
whispering carefully, will wonders never cease
because i am seeking to find the words, in our mouths
intoxicating
so, take the bottle
the brightness of old glass breathing
walk with me, under the blanket of black sky, dreaming
with trust, with a want of learning
with a sense that we could trip-fall down further to ground
even with our grip of hands, of shoulders, of waists
replaced, into earth
with the unknowns, of old, of new, of story true or not
overgrown, overlapped, right here in the glass of my hands
in the story on my lips
and it must be shared, so the offer is all yours
to lean in and take a sip

by earthboundpixie

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crickets know about endings

where did you go? i closed my eyes for just a moment, just a pause
just enough to readjust from dark to light, with a fluttered blink
to focused sight
and suddenly, the forest was full of just me
and i don’t know how
i don’t know how to be alone
so i will focus forward
no
that’s too far and i need to be just here
the time will take care of itself, and i need this now
this now, this here
made of moss and softness and stone, steady steps
steady, formative, and alone
where i am watching the shadow shift
noticing how cricket song grows in volume
like there is momentum at the edges of change
there exists no other time for music, for silence
it has to be now
it has to be as i am hearing it
taking it into memory, into me
as the chorus chirp-cheers and i push back against the fears
back to the forest full of just me
full of finding
because maybe you fell up, or down
and are waiting to be found, in a tree, behind a stone
in this storm of searching, through this sense of being alone
hopes and wishes
i close my eyes
for just a moment, just a pause
just enough to readjust, from darkness into fluttered light
finding focus, finding sight
and before the shadows clear, i step forward
forward into shadow, into the unknown
and you
into us being right, in the before of here
without thought, almost without fear
grabbing hands down into a dash
we don’t resist, we just run with the pull, the force
and with a gasp of breath, i open my mouth and suggest
that you had never really left
and we smile, and we smile
sparkle sureness, for awhile
then we fall
into the forest floor, into each other, into a story
of listening, of believing, of knowing sometimes it really is about leaving
and it is so scary, to think that people are temporary
but not me, not you, not now
i’ll just close my eyes
just awhile, to feel you hold me
and we can keep falling into the story

by, earthboundpixie

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Permalink did i tell you i’m reading about optimism
i am 
it says hope is intoxicating
it is
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i was going to tell you all about Houdini, that time you asked

magic is all about shifting reality
make it all seem easy, possible, simple
were there handcuffs?
no, too harsh
too full of reflection and restraint
too expected
the way you may think i am
and i’m not
too direct
there was a tree
ah, you expected that too?
well, sometimes all can be as it seems
fine.
it is there though
a willow
tracing the motions of the air
and filtering the sky, to a subtle shine
when we step beneath
step into the circle stretch of its reach
and we did
into its ocean of leaves
over the threshold, under the surface
to where time stops and motion lives
is action, is chance, is change
because we can move freely
with intention and ease, along the edges
circle steps, flow and freeze
after seven, it must be seven
it seemed like a magical stop, after the seven
we are off balance
with so many circles
many turns, many chances
to back out, to step out, and we don’t
so we stop
still under-willow, still in circle
with stillness stopped into softness
so be gentle- with me, with you
and the breeze listening
is soft, is subtle
like the tender twirl, the flex and fall
of willow-leaf and branch, all flow
and before we forget, we know
to find the fallen, given bits and with a gentle twist, we have crowns
and willowed-wrists
pressed to the pulse, worn between skin upon skin
see. it was so much nicer, softer, lighter than metal
cold handcuffs are not always key to holding or causing an escape
with living ties, in turns, in trees
no need to bind exists
because we are remarkably free
there, wearing our rings, our circles of leaves
and moving through the magic, pulse-pulled
so easy, so possible, so simple
i was going to show you all about magic, that time you asked
and i think i did

by, earthboundpixie