A Twofer

another chapter

thorn crowned
bearing truths and pasts
weighty aspirations
of dreamers
fallen short
a decade more
secure in their blankets
freeing; fleeing
remaining
barbed, branded and broken
escape inevitable
but never coming
phoenix flames
slowly burning to ash
awaiting only
another chapter

juice

you left a stain
on everyone
of my good days
splat battered
bruised memories
of a time
that never truly was
of a person
I never knew
not in the sense
I believed
your venom hidden
beneath a veneer
of good intentions
though in the end
your shelled shock dropped
leaving you more alone
than your attempts
at my isolation

(r)evolution

in chains and changed
time dragging
like a dying clock
days devoid
of sunlight and earth
wrapped in
concrete and steel
cacophony and silence
so the gypsy lies
imprisoned
sleeping more
eating less
waiting for the power
of three times three
to play out
its hourglass minutes
until darkened fires
can be relit
cauldrons filled
and the magic
once again restored
from the ash of the child
she once was
and never will be
again

the weeds win

in the springtime
of his voodoo
possibilities seems to rise up
from the earth dancing
only to reveal themselves
to be the weeds returning
again
choking out the living forces
suffocating with their roots
entwined around hearts and throats
piercing fingers
and faith with their brambles

he lets them grow
exhausted and defeated
in the dark and cold
weary of the struggle
to clear the flowerbeds
daisies and tulips
now long gone
from inattention
and lost hope

No Escape

I don't remember where I stole this pic from, so if it's yours - sorry. It just so stuck me. That is so what I am feeling at this point in my life. I find the exit only to discover it's not an exit. I am stuck in some fucked up crowded Wal-Mart with poo flinging monkeys at every turn. Wandering around the proverbial desert on that damned anonymous horse. I know I wanted this journey. I welcomed it. I enjoy the path of discovery - but damn, this road is fucking dusty as all hell and my ass is tired. Where is the fucking rest stop??? And where the hell is the damned exit? Or is there one?

Some of us are drawn to the color Red like a bull in Spain, relentless, fixed, and pure. Less than four percent of the world population has naturally red hair. That is less than two percent in America. The gene for Ginger hair was discovered in 1995 and this discovery got little attention. This is not consistent as red heads have gotten lots of it. Some negative such as the association with witches and a crazy temper. Some are positive, such as our love for Lucy, The Little Mermaid, and the Feminist icon of Lilith, the first wife of Adam who insisted on sexual equality. So many deceptive MYTHS are of common knowledge concerning the crimson strand. Read up on the TRUE history of this striking genetic endowment.

Sixty percent of women who dye their hair do so at home. Of them twenty six percent choose to go blonde, twenty seven percent go basic brunette, and thirty percent choose to become redheads. The sale of at home red dye kits has gone up seventeen percent since the year two thousand hit.

Professor Jonathan Rees conducted a study of redheads at Edinburgh University.He identified the”gene for red hair” the melanocortin 1 receptor (MC1R), found on the 16th chromosome. He found that this single gene was responsible for red hair.

Red hair is a genetic mutation.

Red hair is seen on the heads of only four percent of people. Most of these exist in the U.K., the Republic of Ireland, and Australia.

The highest percentage of natural redheads in the world is in Scotland (13%), followed closely by Ireland with 10%. In the US, about 2% of the population are natural redheads.

There is a belief that redheads are prone to industrial deafness. This actually could be true as the melanocytes are found in the middle ear.

The color Green tempers red. Look at a color chart. This is why redheads are taught as children to wear lots of green. As if red hair is a shameful state of being.

In the early 1600’s, at the end of the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, the belief of Pixies (aka fairies) emerged in southwest England. They were then and have since been strongly associated with red hair for their mischievousness and otherworldly talents.

A 2002 study found that redhead are harder to sedate than any other people requiring twenty percent more anesthesia. Inadequate doses cause people to wake up during surgery and have increased recall of procedures. (I can vouch that study is accurate)

Adults have about 120,000 hairs on their head; redheads have fewer, blondes have more, brunettes have the most.

Harvard Dermatologist Madhu Pathak calls redheads “three-time losers” because their red pigment is an inadequate filter of sunlight and their skin is more susceptible to sunburn, skin cancer and wrinkling with age. Wear your sun block !!! We are not losers though.

Red headedness is, genetically speaking, a recessive trait. It may appear after several generations of darker hair.

Redheads don’t turn grey. Red hair turned sandy, then white. They are also found to loose their color later in life than people carrying other hair colors.

The perception of the color red, scientifically speaking, enhances the viewers metabolism and increases heart rate and respiration.

The first human redheads walked this earth about 50,000 years ago in Africa and then spread throughout Northern Europe.

The country name of Russia means “land of reds” in honor of a redheaded Viking by the name of Rurik.

Red-haired Clowns have their origins in Russia.

From the 1930’s to 1950;s in Cassville, Missouri, there existed a women’s basketball team called “The Redheads.” For a while they became the talk of the country and a much sought after exhibition team compared to the Harlem Globe trotters. It is important to note that they were not natural red heads, at least not all of them.

In the late 16th century, the fat of a redheaded man was an essential ingredient for poison.

Adams first wife Lilith, always depicted as a redhead, is known to have refused to lie beneath Adam during sexual intercourse, and stated” why should I lie beneath you when I am your equal since both of us were created from dust” –Patai

At St. Paul’s cathedral in London, figurines tell the story of the fall in the Garden of Eden. Adam points one hand to the forbidden fruit and the other to a golden haired Eve. Then the arch angel drives them from the garden. Adam with his fig leaf loops his arm around Eve who is now cowering and sporting a main of long red hair.

Similarly in the paintings of the Sistine Chapel in 1874, Michelangelo’s Temptation depicts a brown haired Eve being handed a red apple by a red headed bare breasted serpent woman (Satan manifested as woman of course carries red hair). In the adjacent fresco Eve is thrown out of the garden with a shameful face and a twist of red hair.

Eves’ red hair is seen as the stain of sin like the original scarlet letter. Later her son, Cain, will bare the red hair and also a fall from grace.

The first redheaded British monarch was a woman. Boudicca was a Celtic warrior was led her people, the Icenti, against the Romans in the C.E. 60’s.

Belief that redheads are witches is a folk belief in Germanic culture. From 1483-1784 thousands of suspected witches were nearly always stripped and searched for “marks of the devil”. These included any “abnormality” such as freckles, moles, warts, and birthmarks. Red hair was certainly considered an abnormality. Considering the freckle factor for redheads this was a deadly and shocking horror. Somewhere around 45,000 women were tortured and murdered usually by burning at the stake or by drowning.

The Egyptians regarded the color as so unlucky that they had a ceremony in which they burned red-headed maidens alive to wipe out the tint- Claudie De Lys.

British Press recently reported that that the MC1R (redhead gene) will be used in DNA testing to rule out, or in, if suspected killers in crime scenes are redheads. This will narrow a search if the gene is found to a small percentage of perpetrators. The hope is that next skin color and physical features will be detectable.-Marion Roach

In central Africa’s Cameroon redheaded albinos, called Nguenguerous, are believed also to come by this color by menstrual intercourse. The UN and other world organizations have studied and advocated for their rights as there have been allegations of the ritual murders in some regions of Africa.

Archaeological digs in the Chinese desert of Takla Makan found mummified redheads dating back 3,000 years.

An Irish judge in 2001 fined a man for disorderly conduct stating “I am a firm believer that hair coloring has an effect on temper and your coloring suggests you have a temper.”

Redheads have always been thought untrustworthy. Judas is most always depicted as a redhead displaying the prejudice against red hair.

The Romans kept red haired slaves, and at a higher price.

Adolph Hitler reportedly banned the marriages of two redheads as he feared their children would be “deviant offspring”.

“Ill beat you like a redheaded stepchild”. This phrase was born out of the American south and implies the status of illegitimate offspring with a white master.

At some point in history Brahmins were forbidden to marry redheads.

In France, to be redheaded is thought to be a fate so dire that some women have formed a “Proud to be Red” association.

Red haired children have been historically branded as offspring of “unclean” sex. This has earned them taunts such as “red-knob” or “tampon tops.”

Bees are thought to sting redheads more than others.

In Denmark it is an honor to have a redheaded child.

In Corsica, if you pass a redhead in the street you are to spit and turn around.

In Poland, if you pass three red-heads you’ll win the state lottery-Sylvia Stevez

In Greek Mythology, redheads turn into Vampires when they die.

During the Spanish Inquisition flame colored hair was evidence that its owner had stolen the fire of hell and had to be burned as a witch.

Russian tradition declares that red hair is both a sign that a person holds a fiery temper and craziness.

A Russian Proverb warns “There was never a saint with red hair.”

Folklore in Liverpool states that meeting a redhead at the beginning of a journey is a terrible luck and bad omen. If you came upon one while still on dock or aboard the ship, you are smart to return home.

In English and Scottish tradition when the New Year arrives, your “first caller” will bring you luck. Brunettes bring the best luck. Blondes bring no luck at all. A widower brings bad luck. A redhead brings the worst luck. This “first footing” custom was so strongly practiced at one time that some homes would hire first callers.

Aristotle was known to believe that redheads were emotionally unhousebroken.

A French Proverb states that “redheads are either violent or false, and usually are both.”

Violent, false, and never Saints...  That certainly explains a lot!

Disowned & Owning It

I just have to laugh at the kick-in-the-pants of it all.  My biggest concerns with moving down here centered around Bryan and the house and the dogs.  I was so excited to be moving back and being closer to my family and getting The Play finally up and running...  And as it turns out, Bryan is the least of my problems (more accurately, not a problem at all but a blessing).  My family, on the other hand, has turned into a nightmare. My mother, brother, and youngest sister are all up in arms with their panties in a flaming twist. I have been accused of 'pushing buttons' and bringing shame and embarrassment to the entire free world as we know it.  Now mind you, this is a play, and not an autobiography.  The names have been changed to protect the guilty...  And really, no one but them would even recognize ANY of the characters once this goes to the national level...  And, none of them have even read anything of it but the cast of characters... BUT, I am the antichrist for writing it.  So, at this point, I figure if they want some thing to bitch about, by God, I will give them something to bitch about...  I mean if I am going to be in trouble for it anyway, why fuckin' sugar coat it.

So stay tuned for the latest installment of my Damnantion...  This ought to get interesting...

To Be Continued...

The Bug

After laughing my ass off at Frailty's post early this week about being attacked by water bugs, I got mine this morning...

La la la.. Getting my first cup of coffee - flip on the light and Wha-Pow! there is a fucking bug on the floor the size of one of my cats... Well it actually wasn't, it was a good 3 inchers, but the way the light cast a shadow on the little fucker it looked huge. Now mind you I am not afraid of bugs in the least. Or never have been up until this morning. Be it lack of enough sleep or my inner three year old female child - I am still not sure what happened... But...

I scream like and orgasmic bitch in heat. The coffee cup went flying (now broken). And I proceeded to high step/gallop/charge/run up the stairs - still screaming bloody murder mind you. Which in turn caused the dog to go hysterical and start barking. Which in turned caused one of the cats to start yowling. Which in turned caused one of the other cats to freak THE FUCK out and start hissing and hopping about. The third cat - wisely - ran and hid.

So needless to say after I did the Idian War (Big Scary Bug) Dance at the top of the stairs for a good 5 minutes almost in tears over a damn dead bug - I realized: Do NOT laugh at other people's misfortunes. LOL

Sorry Frailty.

Now I have to go remove said dead bug off the floor and clean up the ocean of coffee that was flng to the far reaches of the kitchen and dining room.

Happy Thursday, y'all. Sheesh...

Travis

breath held
for a year
waiting word
scouring news
longing to hear
anything
whispers of your safety
mentions of your name
your surprise return
caught me unguarded
whirlwind spin
of relief
euphoric elation
hands tremble
in anticipation
of seeing your face
once again
your existence
still unreal
a figment
dream come true
until I touch you
once again
home soiled
beyond enemy lines

© March 15, 2004

Eggshells

Here are some eggshells
they said
Walk on them
Tiptoe around his straight lines
Tightrope edge dancing
Careful not too give too much
Or too little
Just enough to hold him in
Keep him at bay
Protect the troops
And allow them liberties
Long forgotten
On the lost highway
Cautious balance
Between caring
And novelty
Truth and illusion
And the framework
Of scars tattooed
On the Gypsy's heart

© 02/23/04

Go Away

"feeling old by 21
never thought my day would come..."

"make me laugh
say you know what you want
you said we were the real thing
so I show you some more and I learn
what black magic can do
make me laugh
say you know you can turn
me into the real thing
so I show you some more
and I learn..."

The tides turn. I am weary of endless self-indulgent rambles of shit that make no never mind to me. I am weary of unwarranted obligations bound by guilt. I am weary of high-school antics played by physically grown adult (though the mentality is left for speculation). I am weary of the proverbial "Gay Community" (enough said on that one lest I vomit on myself). I am weary, and I am done.

I made a conscious effort to branch out of my Hermit’s shell and embrace the so-called life around me. I have since discovered I do not like it. I remember now why I retreated to the fortress within my self imposed walls. People are simply not worth it. They either annoy me, piss me off, or completely drain me to the point that I haven't anything left for myself. FUCK that. One might say it a poor choice of acquaintances, but I am beginning to think there is something inherently wrong with me because the same type of people are forever entering my life. I officially declare myself an Emotionally Crippled Self Serving Mental Patient Freak Magnet. And I give up.

Go Away. I am who I am. I owe you nothing. And I need not answer to any of you for anything I choose to so. If you are not for me you are against me. I have no use for you.