Day 219: Between the Poopies and the Poppies

(There was a previous photo of me going into an outhouse. lol)

I didn’t actually go into the outhouse. It’s like my least favorite place in the world. I prefer bushes. And I don’t poop. I’m a princess, and princesses don’t poop.

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California Golden Poppy by Sam Craft

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This is me thinking I am standing up straight. I have no idea what I look like most of the time. Am I a bendy doll? Now I’m starting to realize why guys might think I want their number.

Between the Poopies and the Poppies

I have a difficult time understanding the middle ground.

I am at one extreme or the other.

I am a prude or I am sexy.

I am trying whole heartedly or I give up.

I am excited or I am bored.

I am starving or I have no appetite.

I hyper extend my body backwards or I hunch forward.

I  smile huge or I frown deep.

I  have extreme hope or I have extreme sorrow.

I feel joy or I feel agony.

I think I’m cute enough or I believe I’m too ugly to leave the house.

I worry obsessively or I let everything go.

I am overly fatigued or I have extreme energy.

I  cling or I walk away.

I smoother another or I want nothing to do with a person.

I overshare or I clam up.

I’m talkative or I want complete silence.

I obsess or I walk away in disinterest.

I am confident or I am insecure.

I like myself or I hate myself.

I’m trying to find that middle ground, somewhere between the poopies and poppies.

Between the crap and the sunshine.

Between the stench and sweetness.

Between the ugly and the beauty.

I just don’t know how to get there.

Day 212: Joy in the Morning

Joy in the Morning

I kiss joy in the morning as thoughts of you bow down in gentle gratitude

And affection she dances lightly through the bedcovers, spreading rose petals, red above

How sweetness falls upon the day, fresh crimson, rainbows soft

And handsome tiptoes through merriment, his puckered lips smiling

Beauty she blushes, and gathers love in baskets woven by the twinkle of dawn’s amber eyes

Feathered pillow springs forward and welcomes tickles from hope, chuckle laughs wearing a shy pink

And bold blanket, he harnesses the voluptuous dream of the night, his treasure to marry

The floor becomes ocean and reins in a guild of seahorses made to roar with indigo passion

Folded in dreamland, bed castle winks and mattress plays cymbals in orchestra duvet

Strong faith appears, in this space between, where wishes wear sparkling ruby crowns

Tomorrow, she laughs and splashes butterscotch clouds at strawberry-popcorn glee

While always and forever tango close beside the groom of starlit night and bride of chamber music

Come find me here, beneath the giggling moonbeams and peek-a-boo painted bed sheets

Come find joy, before reason slips beyond the kaleidoscope guard and sleeping disbelief awakes

~ Samantha Craft, August 2012

Photos and Words by Samantha Craft. All rights reserved.

Day 202: For This

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Images from the great northwest of Washington State USA. By Samantha Craft.

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For This

What is love to me, my angels asked

I answered, your eyes in my heart

Shining bright upon the drinking flowers

I watered and listened

To the voices in my mind

And they came like sunlight

The waves I am

Blessing me with the softness of your face

I peeled back the day then

The greenery and cedar grand

Bowed in recognition

Of what I held inside

The joy

The hope

The invention of me, reborn

All stood back, the heaven’s cloud

And asked, as one

Are you certain

Is all worth

This

I stood there then

In quiet

My view slowly shifting

Reality a game

And I answered aloud

In the way a soul speaks from beneath

I answered

Yes

All is worth this

And the questions came:

And what of pain

Shall you hurt

For this

Shall you turn from your very wishes

Shall you sacrifice

For one moment

For one chance

And I sang

As the raven to her love

But for a moment

I would give my life

But for a moment

I would change eternity

And the unity spoke again

Questioning my faith

My desire

And you would alter everything

For this

They asked

Change your world

For this

And I answered with a tear

Yes, the silence said

There is no love

Without his embrace

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~ Sam Craft, August 2012

Day 201: Strangled Love

Strangled Love

I cannot love you anymore

I am done

I have given everything

And you have taken nothing

But the best pieces

Now shattered and disfigured

Unrecognizable to even death

 

I cannot love you anymore

You are torture

The cruelest kind

That wrings the neck wet

And sticks probes of fire

To ignite electric harm

A fence singed into screaming flesh

I cannot love you anymore

My heart a piano

To be tuned and banged upon

To be opened

Used for company

And left in isolated silence

No longer

I cannot love you anymore

You are the slow bleed and I am emptied

You are the wind and I am chaffed

You are the widow black

And I am babe

Last light extinguished in poisoned bite

I cannot love you anymore

If I am sun

Then you are surely night

If I am proximity, then you are distance

If I am truth, then you are bundled secrets

If I am voice, then you be the empty echo

I cannot love you anymore

With throat aflame

Eyes streaked crimson

Ears mangled in blistered bursts

Soul purged of stagnant dreams

I dismiss you

I cannot love you anymore

This pleading woman

Garbed in netted veil

lingering in your vacancy

I strangle her with vengeance

Until she knows with last breath

I cannot love you anymore

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Images and Words by Samantha Craft, August 2012

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Photos taken at Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington, USA

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Captures my heart, indeed.

Day 196: In the Bright of my Eyes

Something to brighten your day by Bright Eyes

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I used to be afraid you’d only see a part of me, a piece, a section, a part I didn’t want you to see.

I used to think if I didn’t show all my parts as best as possible, all the time, then you might come at the wrong time, see the wrong parts. Not like what you see. Not want what you see.

I used to think my heart is so full I need to gush everything out all at once right now, or you will not understand, you will not realize, you will not get me.

I used to think that if you did not understand me, you could not love me, if you did not find all the treasures within me, you would not cherish me. I used to think I had to do it all, all the time, for you to care.

I used to think I was separated, divided, all these pieces, all these parts, and if one part failed, I failed, if one part was not perfection, I was not perfection. And how could you, as such perfection, love a flawed me.

I used to think I was different from you; that although I viewed you, absorbed you, siphoned you out as one tremendous and fantastic whole, that I was still parts.

I used to think in time I could win you over, with enough effort I could earn your love.

I used to think if I didn’t earn your love, I would die.

I used to think love was to be earned.

I used to think I had to show you. I had to prove to you everyday I was special, I was worthy, I was beauty. If you could not see me, I could not exist.

I used to think I was parts.

Now I know I am whole. Now I know I am beautiful. Now I know no matter what anyone else sees, my best is always there. In the bright of my eyes, in the bright of my soul. I shine. Without parts, I shine just fine.

Day 194: Treasured Images

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I took the images at the 625-acre Mima Mounds Natural Area Preserve in Washington, USA. Soils formed as glaciers melted about 11,000 years ago. This site protects native ecosystems and rare plants and animals. There are many theories about how the mounds of earth formed. My favorite is the giant gopher theory!

This is an interesting video about the mounds:

and laughing…here’s what it looks like MOST of the year:

Images 

I imagine your voice as the sea alive in the deep night
A rhythmic strength, a moonlight lullaby
I imagine your presence the solid branch set across clear stream
A place to cross over, a passageway to the other side
I imagine your taste the ripe fruit cleansed and divided whole
A sugar to tongue, a craving reborn
I imagine your chest the mossy grass of midsummer
A softness to palm, a tingle to my skin
I imagine your hands the breeze through the evergreen of cedar
A visiting ebb, a caress between limbs
I imagine your lips the cotton candy of youth
A melting satisfaction, a spiral of sweetness
I imagine your soul the wings of the monarch
A flawless design, a freedom to flight
I imagine your movement the rapids over boulder
A cleansing crush, a cool rush of nature
I imagine your image the reflection in still pond
A mirror to myself, a partner to my imagining

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Samantha Craft, August 2012

Day 191: Purple Toes and Love Clouds

A song I can’t get out of my head. There’s always one that sticks around for days.

“I have a deep angst in the depths of me that I have been carrying in my soul since May of this year. I do not have the words to describe this experience, except to say I feel a vast depth in my inner being that is filled with a mixture of love, passion, and longing. I have carried this from when I awake, until I sleep.

Dreams bring escape.

I have tried to figure out what to do with this feeling that feels akin to unconditional expansive love—a bottomless pit I want to fill with all the beauty about me.

I have had no choice but to pour the angst out of my soul day after day into prose and poetry. Each day I think I am emptied, only to find, time and time again, that I am not relieved for even a moment.

I have tried to pour this love into one person, and find that this love is not made for one.

I have tried to cry it out, walk it out, starve it out, laugh it out, talk it out….but alas it stays, lingering in the forefront of my every waking thought.

This love will not depart, and instead seems to grow with each coming day.

I know not what to do. The feeling is akin to the huge cavernous hole I would experience with the thought of expectation, a joyful event about to take place, a reunion of lovers, an anticipation of marvelous ecstasy.

The butterflies are a million. The energy persuasive and all-encompassing, as if heaven’s angels are all at once swirling within me, their wings stirring a golden dust of light.

I cannot move at times.

I cannot catch my breath at times.

And there seems to be no antidote.

I am slowly realizing that I am not meant to solve this riddle of love.

I am not meant to dislodge the love or give this love to one.

I am meant to embrace this love and welcome it. To say each morning: Welcome my angst. Welcome my calling. Welcome heaven’s voice. Thank you for letting me know I am alive. Thank you for letting me be your instrument. I welcome you with open arms. I embrace you. I walk with you for as long as you wish to be here. And I carry you for the world. This light seed. This watering can for the masses.” ~ Sam Craft, July 2012

We went to Mt. Rainier National Forest in the state of Washington, USA, yesterday.

I felt this unbearable love the entire drive there. I listened to music through my headphones and daydreamed of a forest glen, me as an elven princess, and of a charming knight. When we arrived at the basin of National Park I asked the heavens for a sign, for validation of this vast love I am carrying. Within minutes all the dark clouds began to disperse. Not long after, when I stepped out of the van, I turned, and this is what I saw.

This heart cloud was only there for a matter of seconds.

Later I asked for more signs. Greedy little girl I am…..because one heart in a beautiful clear blue sky was not enough!

I’ve always said that the angels have a sense of humor…. These are the signs I was given.

Signs on the path my family made for me and my youngest, so we could find our way to the end of the trail.

I am still learning to SPECIFY when I make requests for signs!

Hours later, as we finished our 5.5 mile hike, I looked up to the sky, and specifically asked for a sign to validate the overflowing love I have inside and to confirm one of my deepest desires (a desire which I shall not mention because I don’t have to–giggles and blushing)

And in an almost cloudless sky, another heart cloud formed right then and there above me.

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“Your truth speaks for those still listening for their voices, between the frayed and hanging stitches of their seams.” ~ My Aunt’s words to me

Oh, and here are my toes.

Tomorrow I shall post some lovely photos of the National Forest. Almost as lovely as my big toe. Or I shall share a silly slumber party poem that mentions the word shagging! Or both. Or something else. Isn’t life wonderful? All these choices. And toes…..glorious purple toes.

Day 189: That Moment

That Moment

I want to be that moment

in a black and white film

when man pulls woman into his arms

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I want to be that passion

the lyrics in the love song

that leave you gasping

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I want to be that instant

when mother sees newborn

and souls embrace

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I want to be that sigh

as lost wanderer tracks

the sun dripping below ocean

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I want to be that completion

the final missing piece

of the perfect puzzle

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I want to be that reason

you sprint back home

to find what was forgotten

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I want to be that breaking

the mile-marker when runner weeps

and then pushes onward, strengthened

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I want to be that second

when one first beholds his beloved

and understands she is his answer

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I want to be that ache

the final line of a love poem

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photograph and words by Samantha Craft, July 2012

Day 188: You

Washington State Park
by Sam Craft

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You

I searched a thousand love songs

I thumbed through printed prose

I edged my mind round poems thick

All words that rhymed with rose

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In storybook or tale

The answer did not rest

And so I tried with might

To search through nature vast

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From animal to tree

From sky to crumbled rock

I walked from path to path

I tracked the soaring hawk

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In vain I hung head low

In sorrow and in shame

I had not found the answer

And had to start again

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This time I looked at art

Communicated form

To marble, paint, and print

To oddities adorned

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To everything that came

To everything I saw

I could not find the answer

Not hanging on a wall

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My legs they soon grew tired

My heart it gave a thump

My mind was spinning top

My throat it felt a lump

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How could I describe you

And show you how I cared

Declare my adoration

When you weren’t anywhere

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And so I found a tree

So very tall, and sat

And took a deep breath in

And thought of this and that

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I reasoned and I volleyed

I cursed and threw a fit

I hollered and I worried

And even gasped a bit

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Until the answer flew

Smack straight into my heart

And suddenly I knew

How to piece together parts

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I found you weren’t outside me

Not anywhere I’d looked

Not locked within the words

Of any single book

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I saw you clearly now

In everything you are

The golden thread of hope

My brilliant shining star

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A source that danced within

My ever waking dream

Inspirer of wishes

Interwoven in my seams

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Sam Craft

July 2012

I’m kind of in a music mode….hehehehe 🙂