#thealphabetrearranged

[thealphabetrearranged]

I long for the kind of love

That puts you to sleep

that welcomes you to bed with its warm embrace

I yearn for the color of warmth

tint of reminiscences

fire’s glow against ash

light against dark

illuminating

I yearn for places I’ve never been

for moments I’ve never had

for people I’ll never hold

maybe it’s from a Past Life

One where I knew profound

Love

threading itself into my marrow

I am a symphony of past

sums of history before this time

“I know you”

You are summer song

You are lute and harp and fiddle

You are thousand year old heartache

You will yearn for a thousand more

I am but

a

single

heart beat

of yours.

-Lisa Cannough

[rumbleroars]

I’ve Seen Rainier Days

I’ve seen rainier days

torrential downpours and floods

of giant puddles, tiny rivers, and endless amounts of mud

somehow those are better than this--

you surrender, get wet, let go and embrace bliss

But this, oh this, this, this

Is still rain but not quite a mist

enough to turn up the collar on my coat

and wish i’d bought boots to fend off the cold

the wind sweeping rain right into my open eyes

my umbrella getting flipped and you can’t tell if i cry

the chill slithers into my wrists, my ankles, my nose

seeing my face in a puddle, then:

A Rainbow.

Curse beauty for appearing right at this moment!

I’m frustrated and angry and my fingers are frozen

I finally reach shelter and question “Why?”

And then I see a DOUBLE RAINBOW all across the sky

[thealphabetrearranged]

Thoughts Are Power.

This is something I wrote a while back when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed. Let me know what you think! 

Shelly ran through the open forest, the amethyst clutched tightly in her palm. She passed by a combination of smells: roses and coffee, like her mother used to make. What a strange situation to be in!

Her mind raced, galloping as a horse does when it’s running, not towards something, but from something. Frantic thoughts motivated bone and sinew to work together; to move the flesh of her legs as quickly as possible, all she knew was that she couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop running, or she would be caught.

The storm in her head continued, picking up speed, moving quicker than her legs could take her. Her foot caught a branch and she fell hard on the forest floor. Head spinning, she looked up and realized she could no longer see the sky. In her haste, she had run the entire day and hadn’t even noticed it getting dark. Breathing hard, Shelly pushed herself up from the ground. The effort made her limbs shake, but her brain was still racing, still processing a hundred thousand thoughts per minute, and she saw visions of equations, sounds of passing voices, and yet couldn’t focus on a single one. She knew she had to keep going.

“Quiet.” A voice boomed. It was loud and clear and commanding. The storm in her mind receded, then launched itself again, with vigour at the front of her skull. She began to run again, not caring about the bruises forming on her palms or the taste of blood in her mouth.

“Quiet.” The voice came again. Shelly ignored it, and kept on running, running, running.

“My child, why do you run?” Shelly could hear the voice, but refused to answer. The storm was gaining, they would find her, they would—

“What fear moves you so? There is nothing behind you.”

Shelly turned to look behind her…

and saw only trees. The darkness was gone.

Her lungs were on fire, and she sucked in air like it was the most precious thing on earth. She stopped, and the exhaustion pulled her body down, buckling her knees.

“I-I-can’t. I can’t anymore.” she sobbed, tears falling down her muddy face. “It’s too much. Let them catch me.”

“Breathe, little one.” Shelly obeyed— the will in her had dwindled to a flicker.

“I am here.” the voice came in numerous sounds from around her— the trees, the earth, the sky (even though she couldn’t see it). And just like in a dream, a figure dressed in white approached her. She was the most beautiful and terrible woman that Shelly had ever seen, glowing with the purest white light one could imagine, and Shelly thought that if this was the last thing she saw before she died, she’d die with a beautiful sight.

“I am the mother goddess, of the earth and the stars, and everything here.” She moved closer to Shelly, and her expression softened into one of pity. “But child—” she said as she reached out to her, “Why?” Her hand rested softly on Shelly’s cheek and she was surprised to find that the goddess’ hand was warm and gentle-- she had half expected to be electrocuted. It drew the fear out of her mind like an archer draws back a bowstring, pulling the dark thought that had pervaded in her mind for so long.

The goddess held this dark thing in her hands and it swirled and cracked, like a lightening storm. Angrily it whirled, looking for something to destroy. She looked at Shelly, who stared in horror at the thing that had been pulled out of her head. “One so small should not have to bear something so dark.” She passed her hand over it and threw the mass into the air, shouting a word that Shelly did not understand. The mass writhed once, and then exploded into a million pieces, sparkling against the backdrop of the sky. The sky! She could see the sky again. Shelly’s heart soared, and for the first time in months, felt the fear drain from her body.  

“Thank you.”

The goddess smiled at her. “My dear, you are a powerful creator. That was a very powerful dark thought.” She paused, and focused her gaze on Shelly. “You must learn how to control your thoughts, little one, for you are destined for great things, and your mind— your mind will be the reason you achieve your destiny, or it will be the very thing that destroys you.” Shelly dropped her eyes, ashamed. She felt the goddess’ hand under her chin, tilting her head upwards. “Your thoughts are a powerful thing. Use them wisely, and listen to your heart. It will guide you when all seems lost.” The goddess reached out and took Shelly’s amethyst into her own hands, chanting again, in a language filled with sounds she couldn’t recognize. When she finished, the amethyst was encased in a larger stone with a chain. The goddess placed it around Shelly’s neck— a token.

“I have a feeling we will meet again, young one.” the goddess said, as she left. “And don’t forget, thoughts are power. Think good ones.”

And with that, she was gone.

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Feet.

You have taken me roads away from home--

I was born with you and will die with you too,

with miles to celebrate the weathered skin that covers you

and tough heels for each challenge we’ve passed together.

Some (my mother) will say that you are too rough

too abrasive

but I Know

you are tough because you are strong

you are my pillars on which i stand

my roots in the Earth

the source of me, the stem of me, and you have carried me here.

[thealphabetrearranged]

Rain Season Has Arrived

I awoke to the sounds of rain on my window, to a dull gray and lifeless sky,

altogether quite dreary and miserable

and my wretched heart gave a cry

but my soul spoke gently and softly to me

Reminding me I had eyes that learned to see

That there was love and beauty in days like these:

Droplets of water caught under a railing

New life given to leafless trees that started ailing-

their wet bark shows richer colour

And without the sun in the sky

The silhouettes of the trees spiral high

with patterns like fireworks and waterfall cascades

All striking a pose against a backdrop of grey

A childhood with grandparents is one I never had

of warm socks and wool knits

but now, tomorrow, tonight are still new

as an artist, i paint my worldview

with colour and heart and laughter I’ve heard

with tight hugs, and strong hands, and loving gentle words

so the droopy trees and my cold knees are no match

for the roaring fire of my friends beside my heart

This little fall of rain is not the end but just the start.

[thealphabetrearranged]

That Place Behind Her Eyes

Rory was a girl who stayed inside her own head most of the time. When she did venture out of it, it was slow, like a groundhog inspecting the air before checking its shadow out of hibernation. It was peaceful and quietly done with a grace that only innocence could bring.

Avoiding the oncoming storm, she would turn her mind inwards in order to avoid all the things that were coming from the outside world.

In her mind, wondrous and fanciful things happened. Men were kind and gentle, women were graceful and intelligent, and everything flowed with a lazy sort of ease that would be interrupted only if she decided to leave it.

But time must pass, even if it is relative only to us, and we must move forward. And as Rory got older, the things in her world demanded her attention, pulling her increasingly outward and away from her own mind. She had to deal with the realities of her situation, and found herself being drawn inwards less and less, and her dreams and fantasies becoming more blurry and hazy with each visit.

However, there was one blissful day in which Rory was able to find time; a sliver to clear her mind and focus on her own self. To throw away all of her worries in a dainty flutter of the wrist, and to dive headfirst back into the fun, carnival-like palace of her own mind.

And there she stayed, at least for a while. She frolicked in the vibrant gardens-- oh how bright and colourful everything was! It was as if she had seen them for the first time. The glowing grass beneath her feet lit up the ground, and she could see and feel everything, every little minuscule beat in her own world, roar to life. She ran and sprinted and cartwheeled, giggling and laughing, the wind carrying her happy melody over the hills and the mountains. They called out to her, asking her to join them on an adventure, and she was more than happy to climb up those rock faces, to find the a solid hold and look up into that azure sky with wondrous eyes.

Wit and fancy were bottled together, and it flowed down towers of shimmering glass, catching and holding little rainbows for her to enjoy. There was good company with the cheer bouncing off of delightful words and phrases, that tumbled with ease out of animated lips. They made her think and laugh with the jokes and pure fun of it all.

And as the sun began to set, this world gave Rory one more gift: a sight to remember and to hold as she re-entered the real world.

All of the hills, mountains, and rivers were painted, like a beautiful renaissance work, with pink, gold, and violet in the most breathtaking sunset she had ever seen. The peaks of the mountains rose as the hills rolled and curved, and the warmth of this day created a dazzling inspiration. The birds flew overhead, dotting the horizon, as if to say that this was merely a goodbye, that all of this would be here, inside of her, waiting for the next time she came to visit.

And because she had visited her mind one more time, she was able to turn outwards, not unwillingly, but with a new quiet sense of peace that everything would be just fine.

[thealphabetrearranged]

A book

A book will never buffer. It needs no connection Save for two: The writer and the reader. A book will not fail you Without a full charge Or be useless without Wi-Fi A book will not cost you $30 every month, and need to be replaced every three years. A book will do it's best To survive whatever you put it through: Tumbles, falls, water, wind Rather than giving up at the first sign of trouble. A book can be held together With tape and love And it's words won't change

[thealphabetrearranged]

One Word From a Letter

elephant

elope

eloquent

esquire

entertainment

ent

elf

escobar

everlasting

efervescent

elementary

I was in kindergarten when I first learned what the weather meant. “These are the elements, kids.” When it snowed, I put on my winter jacket. First: lay it on the floor. Second: lay upside down next to it. Third: slide arms into sleeves. Fourth: stand up and flip over head. The little red mittens bit on the sleeves and dangled below my tiny hands. Then came a hat, and I was out the door, rolling in burrows of white snow.

[thealphabetrearranged]

Glade

David glanced around the room, his heart sinking as his eyes landed on the picture before him. Dilapidated and derelict, there was little light--further, little air in the room. 

“What are you doing here?”

He spun around, finding the source of the sound, ending up in front of a large woman with pale pink hair, and a loopy, lopsided grin. He immediately thought of a spool of sparkly lines, unravelling from a ball of twine.

“I was told to come here.” he said.

A pause. “By who?”

This wouldn’t do. “Why are you here?” he retorted.

“I own this place.”

Shit. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to get to the glade.” 

“Like everyone else who comes here.” She sighed, and for a moment, her hair seemed plain white. Void of colour and of life, just like the room itself. She rose from her chair and stepped closer to him. 

“What makes you so different?” She asked.

David hesitated. He ran quickly through his brain, searching for an answer. The silence stretched on and on, until his discomfort forced him to speak.

“Nothing.” 

Surprise flitted across her face. Her hair-- he was sure this time-- flushed a vibrant shade of pink and he felt a clear glass breeze weep the room. 

“I just came here to try my luck,” he continued “and I realize that I have nothing to offer. But miss,”

She jumped at this, and her blue eyes sparkled-- he hadn’t even noticed that they were blue.

“Call me Ella.”

“Well, Ella. I’d like to stay here with you, if that’s alright. I understand if you don’t want me--”

“No!” She stopped. “No, of course, thank you. Stay.”

And suddenly, as if he had been holding his breath, air was suddenly freed from his ribcage. He opened his eyes to the same room with new eyes, and what had seemed dilapidated before now shone with a newness of bright awakening. She glowed with shades of pink and magenta and the lopsided grin housed a dazzling smile that made him feel like he was responsible, and he wanted more than anything to do it again. 

[rumbleroars]

The experience of drama is one of those moments in which a human being sits in awe, wonder, and admiration of something outside of self.

William Ball, A Sense of Direction

[thealphabetrearranged]

Do you think insanity is real?

If yes, are you afraid?

If no, what if no one believes you? Are you insane?

mindless wanderers– through an open forest

barefoot, berries stain their steps

Yet in large numbers the steps become a path

for lost travelers to find their way home.

Insanity only thrives in isolation. Find a friend to walk with you, and you can fight together.

[thealphabetrearranged]

Five Things From My Past

1.     Dream catcher with a tan leather rope

2.     Faded Mickey Mouse Baby with a bib

3.     Spinning Minnie Mouse wind up music thing

4.     Pirate Ship office supply holder

5.     Disney book set that sings

 I come from a dream catcher with a tan leather rope

Wrapped up dreams, ‘round it’s sinewy seams

Catching the childish fantasies that ran around my head

 I come from a faded Mickey Mouse doll with a bib

It’s eyes glazed over, but somehow he—

Can still always seem to see

 I come from a spinning Minnie Mouse wind up music thing

That tinkled and twirled and smashed on the floor

But superglue would always hold the notes in harmony

 I come from a pirate ship that held office supplies

The rudder would be a tape measurer in disguise

the pens were sailors and erasers and my mistakes were adventure

 I come from a Disney Book Box that sings when it opens

Wraps the stories in a song— I’d sit there completely captured

reading while the music played, tied together with a yellow rope that frayed

Until the journey flipped past the last page and hit the back cover.

[thealphabetrearranged]

It seems like all my knowledge has just slipped away in the night, tiptoeing through the grass and shouting, “Freedom!” at the outskirts of my lawn. My brain, quite simply, has taken a permanent vacation and I’m left empty headed. That’s not to say I’m gone, just all the reasoning that lets me function as a normal human being. But ah well, who’s normal, really? If you’ve ever gone through your life and said, yeah, I’m so normal, you need to check yourself. It’s the abnormalities that make life so exciting—the people who talk to themselves and immerse themselves in worlds too fantastical to understand.

[thealphabetrearranged]

The Last Period on a Friday Sloth

Slow-moving, eyes glazed like a dark field

  Seeing without seeing

   each breath 

  slow

and

even.

  I move: reach and stretch,

  lifting an arm is a challenge, it takes all my energy

  Finally

 hooking a claw around the next branch

  excruciatingly slow I drag my body forward

  Takes an eternity

  by the end

  I am so exhausted that I lay my furry head down

  to recover

  my strength

[thealphabetrearranged]

Van Gogh

Tumultuous. Bright. Feminine. Growth. Seas. Dark. Space. Outwards. Suicide.

[thealphabetrearranged]

FANFICTION

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is so poorly written and harkens back to my tween years. But what the heck it's fun.

“You will never guess what just happened to me.”

I glanced up to see Taylor who was trembling with excitement. I lifted an eyebrow and waited.

“Logan Lerman just asked me to prom.”

“WHAT?!?!?!” Shrieking, I flew up from my seat, knocking over several gardening books in the process.

“Tell me everything.” I pulled her down into the seat, eager to hear the details.

“Well, I just walked into prayers this morning and there was this band instead of a speaker. At first I thought it was the UCC jazz band, but they weren’t wearing uniforms. And then they started singing “Can’t Take My Eyes off of You” and Logan Lerman was singing right at me and then he pulled me up on stage and asked me! Right there! In front of the entire school!” she finished, breathless.

I took a second to recollect my scattered thoughts. “Wow. So you’re going to prom with Logan Lerman—A-list celebrity. You’re going to need one hell of a dress if you’re going with him.”

“Well Alison, the thing is, I’m not actually—I’m not—I – I said no.”

“You. Did. Not. You didn’t reject LOGAN LERMAN. He’s a celebrity! This is a once in a lifetime chance! And he’s so hot, you can’t do that.”

“Well then, you go with him!”

“He didn’t ask me, he asked you! You need to go. Why would you ever reject a hot celebrity?”

“I don’t know him! Sure, he’s attractive and all, but I’ve never me the guy, until today. That’s so weird and creepy, and just shows how vain people can be.”