Poetry has always been personal to me. If I read it or write something about it, it is deeply rooted in me. But it is not always about me or my experiences; it is born from deep imagination and dreams. Music also inspires me, as did Hans Zimmer’s “Time” for this piece.
There was an ache in her belly as she stood on the balcony, waiting to see her beloved cross over the castle barriers. Her breath was heavy, and tears were beginning to sprout. Her flaxen hair imprisoned by the wind. On the horizon, a sunset full of pink and orange dreams made tears flow down her face. How can something so beautiful bring with it so much despair?
“Your majesty! Shall I send in the first line?”
“No. He’s not here yet. He’s…”
“Your majesty, they’re closing in. They’ll be at the gates soon! If we don’t–“
“If we don’t wait, he’ll be killed.”
“With all due respect, your majesty, he may already be dead.”
She turned around to face him with a fearsome look. She wiped away her tears violently.
“Listen to me! I am your Queen! You are not to send in the first line until I say! And I will not say until I see him cross the cliffs! Is that clear?”
Her first officer, was reluctant and wanted to insist. But before he could do so…
“Your majesty!” he shouted, motioning her to look behind her towards the horizon.
“He made it! He did it! Send in the first line right away, I will meet the others on the bridge!”
“Yes, majesty!”
Her body collapsed into itself. A great relief warmed her as she saw her love approaching the gates on the north end of the castle. She rushed to the bridge to meet the others, but not before heading to the north end. She needed him to look into her eyes intensely, lovingly. She needed to touch him, feel him, and embrace him… perhaps for the last time.
Man! I am struggling to come back to this place. I’m working on life right now, but I know this is part of my life and I miss it so much. As I work towards returning to more posting for fun and to improve my craft, here’s one from the vault: a poem from 2018, originally published on Fictioninmyhead.com.
I voted today—early voting. I also tried making a handwritten entry into something called The Happiness Journal. It annoyed me, so I slammed it back on the desk. I could not and will not follow directions about my feelings and how they made me feel. Blah, blah, blah. I have a mind of my own. It will remain a void on the bookshelf as it has been since the day I bought a year ago. Did I mention that I voted? I did and it wasn’t anything special. I thought I would feel more… feel a sense of relief. I didn’t. It was an empty feeling. Perhaps it’s the same with that happiness journal. We’ll see what happens. That’s my go-to answer to myself. “We’ll see what happens.”
The truth is we need something to happen. I won’t speak for you. I, Mel Gutiér, need something to happen. Something drastic and miraculous. The Avengers. Yeah… the Avengers need to come in and rescue us from the hell we’ve created. We are stuck in a monotony of chaos, an uneasiness of being. It’s an awkward autophagy of the spirit. I wish so much the world were different right now. And what of my world? I wish that my world was different as well. I walk on a road full of thorns with scars driven in deeper as I move forward. I guess it is what it is. I move forward.
Yeah…
Oh my. Is this my first post coming back to this blog thing?
I saw so many people at the grocery store today that they became blurry while I navigated the aisles. Blobs walking about their mundane life’s traffic jam. The dull existence of routine rush. At one point I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. My mind left my reality, and I couldn’t come back. I left my world as I’ve done so many times. It took me a few minutes to reset and grab the packing tape I had come to that aisle for. I had to shake my head to wake myself up. I walked out into more chaos and to an ungodly hot autumn day. I wished so much for my mind to leave me again. To go somewhere else. But… I had to drive back home and tape up a box to drive back out to drop that box at the FedEx store because it was unwanted.
Unwanted. I voted today and it made me feel empty. I thought it would feel different. It did not. I dropped off that box. I took care of others’ needs before mine while on that adventure. I waded into the shallow end of my thoughts. I don’t know what I was hoping to gain from that. It’s always better when I’m drowning, suffocating in the made-up dreams in my head. The deep flutter of fiction and escape, a butterfly swimming in dreams.