Thursday, October 25, 2012

I'm Still Writing And I Will Continue To Fall Into Your Arms With Me

Did you read what I wrote or did you just sit back and tear it up in your mind over again? Oh lover, you're not here I know you gotta you wrap it up like a little love token then set it aside with this heart of Grate Stones. Eat Me. Drink Me. Wonderland strange friends of mine. Then, of course after you do  you fall  into the light burning with a heart of night and I fall into you with the promise of our tender flight. This masterpiece often takes and often also gives I fall and I fall into you, the narrative that lives. Your words how they gather upon our hearts and heads as our hearts go outside to digest the books you've read.  I look in the morning paper and this is what makes me cry, these moments we have I realize  how they just aren't a lie.  Above and beyond my fatal fallen heart these dusty broken chapped lips of yours will never keep us apart so here we come, here we come together again the racing shores, the white horse who always and never pretends. So I sit and I stare at your body,one last glimpse, how beautiful you are with the warmth of sunlight on your lips, a flickering jupiter star. and now it seems the God of love is in a state of desire....but you my darling your love that rushes through these veins is surely down to the wire. So It's you my love, you over there.  its time to  conserve your mating energy, beware.

The past is not dead its the present burning  through from the past you didn't remember that you once knew.  The very fabric of the paper I read today made me wanna cry because nobody cares if people actually live or they die. So I bite my lip and I don't do what I'm told and I feel the united beat. The value of my pardon and within a shadow of my reach I am sure that I will land lightly on the bottom of my feet. The heaviness has lifted and although the things I read, tear me up inside I still have my shadow to keep from such dread. I am sure you will fall off soon and  if I push you away then I, once again, will fall into your arms with me into the shadows of the day. 

WORDS © Wendy Rose Watson 

Monday, October 22, 2012

Amethyst Skies, Cotton Candy, Clovers & YOU....



how I

how I  feel it...too

ARTIST for both fantastical paintings is adela leibowitz 
I've been in love with her creations for a while, especially these two and happy to share them here

Feel Your Way Through

Sure I was a twelve -year-old child, removed from the custody of my mother who was mentally ill and just doing things she thought was 'living' I knew she wasn't doing it to me, this 'living' although at that time, I thought she was actually born without the capacity for love, but what did I know, I was a 12 year old child then. Now, I can see for miles and miles and miles beyond now. Or maybe not as we still have a lot of dysfunction going on...I'm living now and she thinks I'm doing it to her. Funny how the tables turn. Anyhow, I heard a lot of stories from many people....lots of strange childhood stories that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy....but no one I knew could help me bring peace to my story or make sense of it so I checked into years of therapy, dove into every spiritual practice known to us humans and also tried every tonic under the sun and moon to heal up. I remember most of my life doing this and when not in the movement I'd lie in bed “howling like a wolf” . Nothing seemed to work. Anyhow, I'm writing again as I'm way down in the deep South on my childhood stomping grounds, seems I somehow  got myself out of Los Angeles before I slit my wrist and immersed myself in a hot, fragrant pool of lilac bathwater. I guess you could say that my instinct that is always on my side knew when enough was enough and so what if I had grown accustomed to the black dogs of melancholy that have chased me most of my life, I will always love the romantic haunted idea of them but since I'm a strong creature, not to be messed with in many ways I said enough is enough and just lie that I left the dark to bask in the light.

Looking in the mirror I know that no matter what the pain of  being separated from my pack for so long almost killed me, but it hasn't gotten the best of me yet. OK. The only thing that comes to mind when I hear the word 'pack' is a pack of Marlboro's as a girls gotta have some sorta true love, some sorta vice, right?

Meanwhile, I will be writing more and smoking more as I know Jesus isn't coming to pick me up. The divine lives in me, gotta be something to what my Irish grandmother once said "you gotta pull yourself up by the boothstraps!" so I'm once again  finding my voice through my fingertips, trying to soften the tone (my grandmother Sibyl, afterall was a music teacher!) voice tough in purpose with emotions in check and if I do become a bit emotional (as I've been known to be unpredictable and scary to lots of men and women alike!) it's only because I feel and often I feel too much. However, you better bet these blue eyes are gonna challenge any viewer with raw vulnerability...a snarl to a whimper then back again in a syllable maybe...don't know...meanwhile how about I be me (and you be you)?

It's a risk to love if it doesn't work out...but then what if it does?

WORDS © Wendy Rose Watson 

Thursday, October 18, 2012



In loving memory of my beautiful  
continue to 
my walk  
the valley 

© Photo & Words ~ Wendy Rose Watson  

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

I Will Not Apologize For Who I Am

I will not apologize for who I am. I will love you. I will snow my own thirst and love me for what I need, what I want and then I will explore the GOD in you and in me through you and then the very fabric of my skirt might just brush against your face. Tonight. Tonight.

Words © Wendy Rose Watson

Happy Birthday, Nico

Nico (born Christa Päffgen; 16 October 1938 – 18 July 1988)

I feel so alone. I'm not. 
You have gone somewhere else. 
I look to you to see the truth. 
I look inside and I see the truth. 

You and I are just not there, here everywhere but you're just not here anymore. You're leaving. You're fading --we, you moved from dark into light. This is...I am and you remain an expression of the impossible dream, the possible dream of being but remember the dream is forbidden so prepare yourself for the long haul as I heard the wind howling out to the left...and as I travel the left hand path it said to me (in lieu of you) : I am the wind and you were hatched, you were born and it was then that I was born again.


words © wendy rose watson