The first mile is tough
The last mile is the toughest
I liked the way she played with her hair
Liked her smile
She had a calming effect on me
The in between was just numb minding
Just distance for the sake of distance
Some never made it, some did
She hated cruelty
One of god's creatures
Too good for me
Just to good
The body wants to give up
That little voice agrees
Just dumb for the sake of dumb
I was a dumb one
Everybody loved her
She was one of the special ones
They always take the special ones
Sometimes when the pain gets too much
I’ll run the hill
Just to see her play with her hair
It’s worth the pain

A dream told me to write a poem titled
Little Blue Hill,
Here it goes

First, I dreamed of Shrek
Weird, I know
I had an epiphany in my dream
It was this profound realization
This wow! moment I experienced
Right slam center within the dream
It was this:
Fiona fell in love with Shrek
because she could be her true self
in his presence
She could be the ogre she truly was with him
She could be completely vulnerable and herself with him,
No walls, no facades, no masks
Just herself
Right then my sleep was interrupted,
which I was happy about so I could remember this dream
And falling back asleep,
my brain exclaimed
That's what real love is!
I never realized that that is the deeper meaning of
Shrek all along, I never saw it there
But it was there, implicitly

In my second dream
I was at church
And I healed someone's injury
With my hands
The people of the church
applauded me and looked onto me with awe
I felt proud
But also ashamed of my pride
I wanted to stand up and say: "I don't deserve the praise. It is God alone who heals"
But I sat in a pew, with a smug grin on my face
And an elation in my heart.

In my third dream
I was talking to a guitarist at church
And I mentioned a little blue hill,
for some reason
Then, I was on that hill
and I exclaimed
"I'll write a poem about a little blue hill!"
So, I did
And here it is

She said that biting my nails was a bad habit,
as she pulled a puff from the lipstick stained cig.
Habits, I can tell you all about them, she croaked this,
Men, War, Love -- Forgive me for being redundant.
I shook my head and released a laugh that seemed to
float past her, with little acknowledgment, little care.
Men, War, Love, Drugs, *** -- I've had it all inside me,
I've witnessed it tremble through and pass, with gradual
recklessness. I've seen and felt it all, but I wonder if I've
experienced glimpses or the entirety of what life has had
to offer me, bad or not, true or contrived. And this, this
wonderment is my most terrible habit; it will destroy me,
through and through, until nothing is left but a smoldering
foundation; a shell, burning through cigarettes and life.

I'm sorry that we all had to stand by and watch
As they packed your mother up into a box and
Laid her to sleepless slumber on the huge cross hill

I'm sorry about the Evil Machines. How they ate away at
Her heart and left her so unrecognizable that her
Face looked more like a window than anything else

I'm sorry that we're always forgetting to ask if you can breathe

And I've got this tragic talent
Where I can fold up my feminism
And stuff it between my legs
Torturous ******, it's toxic shock syndrome

Apologies to suitors as I run fast from their drunken hands
When really I should be cutting those inebriated limbs loose from the bodies they've succumb to
Because I was taught not how to defend myself from charming attackers,
But rather to refrain from setting my drink down at parties and bars and family reunions

How is it that the Boy's Club manifested itself into the bible? And how the ****** Mary is only remembered for carrying greatness below her breast
Giving birth to the boy wonder all while keeping her ***** intact

And finally, once that sacred space rock exits the womb
We must answer to that almighty lord of genitals
Like if Jesus was a girl, the Ascension would have taken place much sooner
And that archangel would have had to start all over

now that i've forgiven you
it's time for me to apologize
for putting you on that pedestal
that was so very high
it hurt when you fell off.

you cannot unwalk the bridge you have crossed
you cannot unknow the fresh taste of enlightenment
once you have breathed it in
there is no way back
to an illusory net of safety
take courage
spread your wings
and fly

©2016janetaylor