I think...

Whew..been gone a while.  Took a mental break.  Here's a little something I wrote on the plane last night. Nothing great.  Just a little something to hold you over until my blog tonight.  Happy reading.
 I think about the moon
I think about the stars,
I think about the time I spent on Mars.
I think about you and I think about them,
I think about her and I think about him.
I think about the time I spilt my drink
all over you,
all over me.
I think about the time I wore your hat
and how I swung your wooden bat
at your cat,
your ugly cat.
I think about your lips on mine,
and how they change the face of time.
I think about the way you read
and when we dance, you make me lead.
I like it when you clutch my coffee,
and how you like your rootbeer frosty.
I think of the way you lock your doors,
and how your shirts lay on my floors.
I think of when I crashed your car,
and you got mad...
and kissed me.
I think about the way your drive,
and how you kiss my cheek at five.
I think about the way you smell,
and that silly yellow little bell
that you ring, when you want to yell.
I think of how you say my name,
and in my heart ignites a flame.
I think of how you love my God,
and how I thank my wonderful God,
for you, who loves blue...
in those silly red shoes.
I think of how you look above,
the stars at night that write of love.
 I just think of you with me at night,
as I fly above the clouds tonight.
I look down and see the lights below,
which dance and kiss with midnight glow.

Reminding me to think things through,
mostly just thinking ....
of you.

cupcakes make me think sweet thoughts!! :)

Welcome Home Party... Tonight

Five years she fought.  Battled.  War upon her fragile temple. 
    
   The sun was teasing me as it rised over the hills.  My phone rings loudly.  Left hand on the wheel, my right hand digging deep in to my purse pulling out everything but my phone. 
    
     "Hello"?    It was my mom.
     "Hey Megan, what are you doing"?
      " Just driving to work"
       " Megan I want to tell you something"
      "What"
        " Lucy died this morning.  3:30am."
  Oh.... my... God.
    
      She wasn't my grandmother but she was a grandmother figure.  My grandpa married her shortly before I was born.  They had a farm and a ranch that sat on many acres.  I loved being out there.  I was a needle in a hay stack.  Climbing the hay stacks. 
    
      She lifted me up when the angry turkey charged me.  I hated that turkey.  Mean turkey. 
     I named a cow Sugar.  She was black and white. I loved that cow.  My grandfather wanted her sold.     Lucy made sure she wasn't. For me.   Just me. 
    
     Once, I cried for my father as I watched him drive away with my mother.  Up the rocky hill.  Out the gate.  I didn't know what vacation meant at that age.  All I knew is they were disappearing.  My pink polka dotted suitcase sat beside my light up shoes.  With pink laces.  She held me in her arms.  Stroking my hair as I buried my tear streamed face on her shoulder.   She consoled me.  She swayed me back and forth.  Shushing me gently.  She hummed a little.  

    That night she taught me how to sing the itsy bitsy spider. 

 So, while the people she loved slept with the stars, up the water spout she went. Down came her rain.

Somethin sweet awaits her tonight.  Somethin sweet. 

Tonight.. I'm from Mars.

Beautiful you.
     I sit on Mars, way up here above the stars.
    Do you ride on trolly cars? Like we on earth do
     pretty Mars?
     Do you ride on firery dragons?
     or like us, a buzzy wagon.
     Have you anything to brag on
     that we haven't, pretty Mars?
    Have you men that do or dare?
    this way, that way everywhere.
    That's what we have- pretty mars.

      I use you Mars, to love him more.  You invented my memory of him.   You put beauty in my hands.   I watch his meteor shower detonate under the sun.  A sun that slumbers when I'm with you.  Sweet Mars, Where is Juliet? I thought she was the sun? I linger on your edge.  You catch me- because I drift into his flame.  Just a flame.  Hot. Dangerous. Addicting.  I use you Mars, to imagine unearthly thoughts. I can do that when I'm with you. Far away. Up here, above the stars.  They seem weary tonight.  Just tonight I hope. 
     
     You illistrate a moon that sings.  A singing moon.  Who fastin the eyes of dreamers.  Dreamers who dream. Dream away. Until they reach us. The dreams I mean.  I can see them.  Touch them.  Make them come true.  For dreamers like me who dream of you.  The heavens are flooded with pleasure. Marvel.  They float over you.  Fall on you. Gently.
    
     Oh Mars, eternity sits on your lips.  Bliss on your brow.  You laugh at me.  Sudden, you thrust me off of you, into the night.  Why have you betrayed me? I fall fast.  Through glowing stars. Across God's palette. I slip off the tip of God's paintbrush-out of the universe where love truely exists.  Bring me back tonight.  When I close my eyes to dream.  To dream of him.  To read the dreams of dreamers like me.

 Mars, answer me this, and let it be truth
 How much is night in love with you? 

A cupcake a night brings sweet dreams delight.

Ugh... Diets

      Day three of my grusome, repugnant diet is upon me.  What is a diet anyway?  It should be illegal.  It should never be spoken of woman nor man. Ugh.  Diets. 

     

      I find myself in a struggle as I search for my long lost tennis shoes.  A pair of pink and blue Nike's peek out from under a pile of clothes.  The shoe laces hang off the shelf, isolated from the flip flop community that has settled there.  Moans of agony come from the pit of my stomach out my lips as I slip them on my feet.  Pink and blue Nike's fit perfectfully. 

   

      I feel taller. 

   

      The treadmill is a bully.  I believe that I am slowly walking my way into it's good grace.  Barbells befriend me.  Stretching brings consequence from the unforgiving choices of double cheeseburgers.  The chin up bars look down on me, snickering.  My sports bra shifts all directions.  My jogging pants which are to fit loosely feel like leggins.  My tank top won't stay on my shoulders.. and.. did I just hear the eliptical machine whisper "your a hot mess".  Ugh. Diets.

   

     McDonalds glares at me as I stop at a red light.  It's golden arches burning through my windshield.  The drive through menu is extra bright.  They must of finally fixed the lights.  Why? Why now? Sonic flipped me the bird this morning because I didn't stop to have my usual breakfast.  I shrugged my shoulders with guilt.  I abondoned them.  They never abondoned me.  They were there for me.  They comforted me.  I no longer need them in my life.  Want them in my life. Have them in my life.  Ugh. Diets.

    

     Water bottles replace Dr.Pepper on the top and bottom shelf of my refriderator.  Water cleanses my soul.  My mind. My spirit.  I need spirit right now.  A strong one.  The elevator no longer sees me. No longer feels my finger on it's buttons.  No longer hears my quiet singing as I go up..and down.   Oh how I miss arriving to my classroom, not winded.  A bouncy ball replaces my leather chair that allowed me to roll across my desk area.  My back becomes angry.  Ugh. Diets.

             

                                   I can do this.  I'm a no matter what woman.  I am strong. 

                          But I still want a cupcake......with fat free icing and sugar free sprinkles :)

Writer's Block

 

       I have no idea what to write about tonight.  I usually take the weekends off to rest my industrious brain but, each time I do, I always find myself sitting in front of my computer with the cursor blinking at me. Laughing at me.  My dog wonders around me.  She knows when I have the laptop on my ..well..lap, not to bother me.  Except, tonight I find her a sweet distraction.  My thoughts are drowned by sounds of "Meet The Faulkers" and my washing machine. 

   

  The sun has set and the wind is picking up lovingly.  Back to the chopping block tomorrow with my 17 little smarties with their light up Nike's and Twinkle Toes.  This week we discuss bears and hybernation.  This should be interesting. 

    

   I haven't been sleeping much because I have new nieghbors who insist on staying up till 5am playing video games. I can hear the wife bellowing at her husband to come to bed.  I can hear the daughter blow drying her hair at 5 in the morning.  I guess I should silently deliver one of my bogus " manager" letters stating there will be a fine if the noise continues!! It's worked before.  :)

   

   The moon is hiding tonight.  I know it gets a lot of flack because of it's responsibilities.  I wonder what the moon would say if it could talk?  Would the sun complain that it was too hot? What about the stars? Do they wish they could all be counted?  Or do they live their own life, living magestically together, guilty of love? 

  

    I'll sleep on that question.  Goodnight.

I wish I may, I wish I might, dream of cupcakes all of the night :)

     

Love Letter From Vietnam

      My dear love,                                                    
      November 18, 1969

         

     Rain falls from the heavens as I think of you tonight.  I dream of the moment I get to hold you in my arms again.  This letter won't be long but I had to tell you how much I love you.  How much I miss you.  It's hot here.  South Vietnam is no walk in the park.  Your a walk in the park.

    

     I don't know why it keeps raining.  I've been sent over to the Medical camp today to help out with the soldiers.  I am training new medics.  You won't believe how bloody it is in here.   The stinch of war  and courage fills the room.  It's bitter sweet really.  Tomorrow we start running out in to the line to look for lost, wounded soldiers.  It's a scary world outside this tent.  Bombs dropping, rifles letting loose.  It trembles my bed. 

       I tremble... at the thought of never seeing you or our children again.

   

      I have become sort of a counselor.  I'm somebody to talk to.  I'm a listening ear.  I am here to serve and fight for our Country.  I smoked my last cigar the other night.  It was so nice to have a moment of peace.  It didn't last long.  Before I knew it I was taking cover under a house due to bombs.  I cover my head and closed my eyes.  I can feel pieces of buildings fall upon me.  I await the moment of silence after each bomb.  I can think for a minute, and brace myself for the next one. 

   

     How are the kids?  Growing I bet.  How is Cindy doing in school?  Is David behaving himself?  I got a letter from Cathy last week.  Her handwriting is improving.  Tell them I love them will you?  Tell them I will be back soon.  I have sent a tape recorder with my voice on it.  I just talk about my days here.  You can't hear me sometimes because of the sirens that go off in the background.  They aren't anything to be scared of.  Are they scared?  Tell them not to be.  I'm coming home.  Tell David to send me more bandaids, the soldiers appreciate them!

   

      Are you wondering where your perfume went?  I took it before I left.  I spray it on my pillow so it's as if your next to me at night.   I get a little piece of you before I fall asleep.  Well, the little sleep that we get here.  I sure miss you guys.  I get a good view of the stars from my tent.  There is  a few holes in the roof.  I imagine pieces of you in the sky, shining down on me, making the face of heaven so fine and all the world in love with night.  I breathe you in and fall asleep to the thought of you and our children together again.  Some men won't see their loves again.  My heart aches for the ones who wail with pain and touch death with their fingertips.  They are the ones out there, protecting.  Fighting.  Defending.  All with honor and dignity, courage and consequence.

   

      If this be my last letter to you, my love, tell our children I am with them always.  I am with you always.  I will sing you songs in the wind.  I miss you my love.  I miss our children.  Cindy, Cathy and David. 

 Remember the day I told you I loved you?  Maginify that by ten million and ten. 

  Until next time my sweet.  I look forward to hearing from you soon. Goodnight.  

Love to you

     Ron

Thank you grandpa for saving the lives of many.  Risking your life to bandage the wounds of our soldiers. 

Grandma, thank you for being you.  Love.

Oh You Hump Day!!

   I'm so tired today.  I sit in my classroom, starving.  I'm wait for my colleague to finish grading papers as my stomach roars with anger.  My head pounds from the echoes of high pitched voices roaming through the hallways.  Lockers slam loud and the copy machine is broken.. for the third time this week.  My GT student won't keep his shoes on.  We have had a firedrill,  tornadoe drill and a lock down drill all in one day.  Is that even possible?  I have five hundred and fifty five...no wait..fifty six parents approach me at one time. With a headache.  I don't have the answers for once.  I tell them "I will get back to you".  I hate saying that- when knowing I left my superwoman cape at home.

    

   I do love my job. My students.  My life.  I love my desk that lovingly cradles the papers which hold deadly deadlines.  I love my blue shag carpet that hideously smells like sandbox and monkeybars.  I love how my projector slide shoots up and spins if I don't hold it the right way.  My days go by like a strand in the wind.  I sometimes wish I can stand outside my glass house and witness my lovely, beautiful crazy life.  Sometimes I just wish I can throw rocks at a glass house.  I bet that would be interesting.  I hear Adele playing in the background as I pick up the remaining shredded paper left from my 17 busy bodies.  I sit up with a handful of multicolored construction paper and say to myself " Oh, I love Adele".

   

  I can't grade papers because I lent the second grade teacher down the hall my EZ grader, which, she forgot to mention that she was taking it home.  I really need that grader.  I find it really hard to grade without my magic red sharpie when, I left the lid off last night. It dried out while I slumbered, alone in the dark classroom, laying on a desk full of ungraded papers.  What an awful way to parish.  I really do consider myself lucky.  Amazingly honest. 

However, sometimes I'm tired.  Really tired.  Tonight.  I'm tired.  Anybody else feel me??

anybody?

I will take a redbull cupcake please.  :)