Highfalutin Sequins & Glitter

I must get moving I suppose haunted by a past and future, overly cautious and wickedly sentimental. I must walk in the present decked out in sequins and glitter in honor of the brazen one. There is magic brewing in these parts and honest living in the routine. Small town life is fine, filtering the air with H2O, and hyperbaric clean, 100% pure, brain oxygen.

Just when I think I am no more. I’m proven wrong. Just when I think I have absolutely nothing, to give, to fight, and to live. Not one piece worth living. Just when there is not one breath inside and my veins have dried up and turned purple. Just when there is nothing except black hole, bottomless tar pits and green-eyed pond scum monsters, my dreams shake me from a trance. My spirit guides dust me with just the right amount of determination while I sleep. I awake shaken, yet refreshed from the pretty rainbow, mirror ball glow of sequins dancing across my ceiling. Pinching myself, the night fairies are the miracle enough to keep on living. I get on with the daunting task of getting up, out of bed, dressed, and greeting the new day.

Is it all a dream? Did I imagine this? Which piece is the reality to hold onto? Was I ever really here? Am I living? Who can say?

My dead don’t speak to me now, so I can’t be sure of anything. The where I came from or the direction I am heading. I can only sprinkle the earth with kindness, fondness, and graceful living, learned over time and with age. The talking parrots fly above me now in bouts of beautiful memory and happy colors, the life reminders that unexplained, mystical beauty remains.

Maybe, some God gave me this curse on my head so that I would be forced to stop, slow down and listen, taking in all the enchantment around me. I would not be this kind, sensitive, flawed, gorgeously imperfect or caring without the slight touch of insanity. I would have stayed the small-minded selfish, ignorant young girl never bothering to look up to take in her surroundings. That is the only way I can justify the horrific pain and suffering running through this broken brain and body.

And the joy in knowing, that one day I will no longer be bound by the minutes, the blue planet a faded memory. I will no longer be labeled the lunatic or crazy, but will be ananta happy, safe and sound.

I won’t have to fight the spinning, dizzying head, the out of nowhere panic attacks leaving me doped up exhausted, or the unbearable despair pulsating my blood and my veins. I will no longer silently scream inside from pain and anxiety, the spinner top raring to explode.

I will be free to roam unencumbered by the weight of time and space. 

I thought if I went way back in time to the glimpse of a young, healthy, happy, carefree young woman floating effortlessly on the waters, you might take pity on me. One never knows which murky waters they will find themselves thrashing about, life spares no one the suffering. The ripples shift and shape as they see fit, taking us all on our own personal journey of hardship, joy and grace. My struggles came a bit sooner than anticipated, leaving me grappling with a sickness I was ill prepared for.

Still I swim float and sink, always fighting my way back to the surface for breath and a bit of fresh air.

Clearing the cobwebs out of the way, I brace myself for the walk. I make room for smooth take off and safe landing.

 

excerpt from THE RED BENCH

Sideways Dreams

Sideways Dreams

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I love it when the clouds swirl and swish about in different directions, knocking angrily against each other in the sky. The clean open sky that I can now lay on the ground and watch free and clear, no city buildings in sight.

I have no clue what tomorrow will bring. I am paralyzed and in awe, the possibilities endless. There are few things I know, and few I’ve taken for granted. I don’t need the stuff. The excess baggage weighs me down. In the woods, I’m free from fancy dressing. I am light years away, a carefree traveler. I don’t miss the fashion, the superficial, the high heels and the in crowd. The oxygen and the trees leave me be, to think and to grow.

FORTITUDE – Jacqueline Cioffa

FORTITUDE

FORTITUDE. @jacquelinecioffa

The essence continues because you do. Harrison leaves the door open a crack. I seize the opportunity to revisit my whole, healthy self a bit longer, live in the mystic beach home I adore, dream eyes open. Hope is our greatest asset. To choose hope against the worst possible odds is the true measure of life. – Georgia Pine by Jacqueline Cioffa

Buried In A Beach

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Buried In A Beach

By Jacqueline Cioffa

I didn’t start out like this. I was a goddess, a fearless warrior eager for the unchartered. I was happy at birth, an easy smiley baby; always trusting, overly naïve. I took for granted that kindness was around me.

I grew up, acquired the hate and problems and stuff and distraction. I do not want to live in any old house with four walls, filled with rules and regulations and misconceptions. I don’t want to be shallow, undisciplined, unaware, indecisive and unforgiving. I don’t want to be the enabler. I have not added the characters to this story because they don’t count. I prefer to stick with the simple, the animals and the trees.

I look out at the sad, pre-conditioned faces and am returned to the lost feelings. I taste the screams building up in my throat, the hurling accusations. I immediately remove myself from the physical, and loose the same old, same old. I practice deep breathing and kind thinking.

I grasp onto the red bench, the red robin, the positive forces rewiring my thoughts and I walk across the page releasing it all.
I don’t care if you see the weakest part of me, the ugly truths. I am imperfect, diseased, damaged and pre –conditioned, but so are we all. I am aware of my misgivings, and the surface. I am face to face with the short temper, the judgment, the fears, the Venetian masks I wear for your fancy. Right now, I am checking out.

I will not allow you to judge me, I will hand you all my unholy on a silver platter.
You may do with me whatever you please. I have begun; I am the walkabout. I have mulled it over on a red bench for days and months. I have sat and stirred and worried over nothing. I have worn down the rubber soles on my shoes. I am convinced that certain is nothing. I am loosing the broken record.

I am fearless, a fairytale princess young at heart, serene and at home on the beach. In my most perfect, well lived in modern, sea-legged, sturdy house. I am a deserted beach at sunset, with no timetable in view basking in warmth and color. I am healthy and mind free, delighted to casually wander about.

The Red Bench excerpt © 2009 by Jacqueline Cioffa. ‪#‎Prose‬ flows.

“The chaos comes with you,” simply stated my friend. -The Red Bench excerpt by Jacqueline Cioffa

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“As an artist do I need constant flux to create? How will I find words in the woods surrounded by trees and rotten cornfields? How will I find anything besides dying, wet leaves?

I cannot escape the volume in my head, the constant churning. The Jesus fucking Christ, turn it down chatter. I have been told to be patient. Wait for the drugs, the quieting veil, and the lavender calm to smooth out the ringing. My mind is full of death and black spots I’m sure, much like a stroke patient after a spell.

   “The chaos comes with you,” simply stated my friend. He was right. I am here, here am I. Sick and tired, tired and bullshit sick.

The blank paper waits and my hands navigate the keys and the thoughts go where they may.”

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-excerpt from “The Red Bench” by Jacqueline Cioffa

Drowning, on Repeat

I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord

the dark squashes me in broad daylight

And I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life, Oh Lord

big moments, big, big grandiose moments

important things

still waiting, still hoping, oh Lord

do you hear me, screaming

silent plea

Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord

faith is a five letter word hard to swallow

rocks, pebbles slice and cut going down

I bleed red same as you

Well, if you told me you were drowning

I’d jump in and regret it

I would not lend a hand

yeah, I would unwilling

hatred, tick embedded disease

I’ve seen your face before my friend

don’t have any

friends, strangers, foes, allies, enemies

who cares

But I don’t know if you know who I am

how could you, hide my face

so complicated, hard to navigate

Well, I was there and I saw what you did

everything I thought true

wrong, wrong, wrong

big moments don’t come

I saw it with my own two eyes

I misunderstood, got it wrong oh Lord

I did that, sole responsible

I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life, oh Lord

keep waiting, hope dwindling

fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight

Lord can’t save me now, joker, charlatan

penny player

all in

thick of it

Stranger to you and me

DRUMROLL, Phil Collins

Play, repeat

Oh Lord, I forgot

love that song

Phil Collins, In The Air Tonight partial lyrics

Drummerworld
copyright Drummerworld

 

neglect
neglect

“It all comes back to a red metal bench in the woods on a small hill by a nothing- special pond. The air is sweet and wet and fall is here for now. Ducks sleep near the brisk, damp water waiting to take flight to sunnier places, offering no solution. I shiver and squirm in my own discomfort, clenching the bench, determined to will myself better. I’ll sit there god damn it, you fucking divine coxsucker, I’m as stubborn as you, until there is something to look forward to. I’m not pretending rosy and cheery just maybe a hint of curiosity.”

-excerpt The Red Bench by Jacqueline Cioffa