September 13, 2007

Make us pockets and sing to us

I wish to live in Neverland, among fairies, lost boys, mermaids and natives. Most of all I wish to hide and tease pirates or maybe just join the ranks and feast on salted meats. Fantasy is far more appealing than anything else and being this close to the vast Caribbean and fanciful islands I cant help but dwell on it. Oh to have no job, oh to never worry or want for anything. Oh to play with wooden swords and pixie dust. My dreams are full of fairy tale bedtime stories and lovely musicals. My entire life I only made one wish, on shooting stars, on 22 years of birthday candles, on eyelashes and falling feathers my one wish has been the same, To fly, to ride on the wind's back, and yet this wish has never never been answered. But still I wish it every chance I get hoping that this will be the truest wish and finally my heart will fly on wings straight for the second star on the right.

And now for one more hope:
Dear Peter Pan;
Please come to my window, I promise to tell you stories, sword fight, make you take your medicine, tantalize Hook to no end and never grow up if you take me to the place were dreams are born and time is never lost.
Love Always Rio

September 02, 2007

here's to new

I was happy to feel the wave of independence as I exited the cold salty smelling palace. I wanted to touch everything and fall to my knees in a bowing to good fortune sort of joy. From the seaside skyscrapers, to the perfectly placed concrete tiles of the hot sidewalk. I wanted to jump up and dance among the notes of the slow accordion music blaring from hidden speakers. Most of all I wanted the hot sticky air to stick in my lungs, to hang on pulmonary. I watched magenta bougainvillea grow up a white stucco parking structure and thought, is this the answer or just an exquisite excuse for a permanent vacation from real life. Either way I have arrived at my independence, at my future, at my wildest dreams. At a happy place, whether permanent or just for the wonderful now.

August 07, 2007

Let's Make Pies

I sit in the midst of everything that must go. Crying out, “ Mama, everything’s a mess.” A mirror one foot, twelve inches away and the steaming streaming tears keep coming, uncontrollable sobs that can only be cured by a long road that ends at the next ocean. Loneliness surrounds me and awaits me. Lonely future, lonely freedom.
Lets make pies. Lets make it all go away with cherries and chocolate, with lemons and sweet dough. Hot apples in cinnamon and milk. Lets make pies to make the loneliness not so lonely.

back for more sand dancing.....

August 01, 2007

And we all fall down

I find myself playing at something and yet nothing is the product. I gave up on the writing and dove into everything else just find a lot of depression. I found myself yesterday remembering how nice it was to let it out even when no one is reading.

A change is on the horizon, perhaps the biggest of changes and yet I lay in bed playing at something and preparing for nothing. These past months or entire year has fallen into place so nicely, a little too nicely and it makes me nervous as a stray caged cat. The boyfriend is perfect I still love to watch him wake up. This is the time I love him most when he opens his eyes and they look prehistoric in color and design. We are playing at something rather serious and I find myself thinking too old for my age. I think in recipes and yard furniture when I should be thinking in drive thrus and parties. An older friend recently told me I am far more mature then her, I just hope I haven’t grown up too fast.

February 11, 2007


I wait, transparent, beautiful and worn as an ancient piece of fine lace. My jealousy searing out through my eyes at the sight of any loving couple. I wish to see him, just see him would be enough, Just see him, in this surreal world where his words don’t match his lips, his lips wonderful lips that have left me longing and dreaming of his touch.

But he and his touch and his lips sleep and wake at hours I don’t keep. they reside so far from me, my heart and soul and yet he holds it all, holds my heart and soul and me like a little doll in his huge hand. I picture his hands, making sandwiches, making music, making love happen and I long for him. A world away, and yet I often find myself falling asleep to dream that he’s here with me or I with him, in a hot sticky sweat of humidity and love.

February 06, 2007


Deep breath
Deep breath

Through the winter air, deep breath.

Here it all comes the final culmination and I’ve been craving more of the past, more of the writing, more of the outlet, more of the run-ons. Full intentions of getting back to the writing have been neglected and have only recently become too strong to overlook.

Coming back soon with more.

Time for a refresh.