- 12:31 : I can hear my heartbeat, its irregular. Not perfect. Can't keep time with that. When I move, it pauses for an instant.
- 12:36 : It's raining. It has been for about two hours now. Calm, quiet, rain.
- 12:37 : Can everyone hear music like I can? I mean I'll hear a song on the radio twice and will be able to sing at least some part of it. And then it'll just pop into my head, clear as day but quiet, in the background.
- 12:42 : Alright, time for bed.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Notice
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Lightning Strike, Snow Patrol
Part I
What if this storm ends
and I don't see you
as you are now
ever again
a perfect halo
of gold hair and lightning
sets you up against
the planet's last dance
just for a minute
the silver forked sky
lit you up like a star
that I will follow
but now it's found us
like I have found you
I don't wanna run
just overwhelm me
If this storm ends
and leaves us nothing
except a memory
a distant echo
I want pinned down
I want unsettle
rattle cage after cage
until my blood boils
I wanna see you
as you are now
every single day
that I am living
paint it in flames
all peeling thunder
be a lightning in me
that strikes relentless
What if this storm ends
and I don't see you
as you are now
ever again
the perfect halo
of gold hair and lightning
sets you up against
the planet's last dance
just for a minute
the silver forked sky
lit you up like a star
that I will follow
and now its found us
like I have found you
I don't wanna run
just overwhelm me
Part II
From here the caravans are kid's toys
and I can hold them all in my palm
I watch the sea creep 'round the corner
connects the dots from here to you
the sunlight burning through the loose flags
painted high on white church walls
I chase my blood from brain to thumped heart
until I'm out of breath for trying
worry not every thing is sound
this is the safest place you found
the only noise beating out is ours
lacing our tea from honey jars
These accidents of faith and nature
they tend to stick in the spokes of you
but every now and then the trend bucks
and you're repaired by more than glue
worry not every thing is sound
this is the safest place you found
the only noise beating out is ours
lacing our tea from honey jars
why don't you rest your fragile bones
a minute ago you looked alone
stop wavin' your arms your safe and dry
breathe in and drink up the winter sky
Part III
slowly the day breaks apart in our hands
and soft hallelujahs flow in from the church
the one on the corner you siad frightened you
it was too dark and too large to find your soul in
somethin' was bound to go right sometime today
all these broken pieces fit together to make a perfect picture us
it got cold then dark so suddenly it rained
it rained so hard the two of us were the only thing
that we could
see for miles and miles
and in the middle of the flood I felt my worth
when you held onto me like I was your little life raft
please know
that you where mine as well
drops of water hit the ground like god's own tears
and spread out into shapes like salad bowls and basins
and buckets
for bailin' out the flood
As motionless cars rust on drive ways and curves
you take off your raincoat and stretch out your arms
we both laugh out loud and surrender to it
the sheer force of sky and the cold magnet earth
somethin' was bound to go right sometime today
all these broken pieces fit together to make a perfect picture us
it got cold then dark so suddenly it rained
it rained so hard the two of us were the only thing
that we could
see for miles and miles
and in the middle of the flood I felt my worth
when you held onto me like I was your little life raft
please know
that you where mine as well
drops of water hit the ground like god's own tears
and spread out into shapes like salad bowls and basins
and buckets
for bailin' out the flood
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Listen
Listen.
I heard, although I tried my best not to, the crack of the whip. I heard the grunt of a man in pain. I heard him say "Aba" in a hoarse whisper after the sting. I could not bear to watch so I hid my face in my husbands shoulder. My silent tears slid down his cool skin as his arms came around me.
"Shh," he comforted, "it will be alright."
How could it possibly be alright ever again? My husband, Kosey, and I had been stolen. Stolen from the land our ancestors had lived on, died on. I cried harder as I remembered the life we had had together before the white devils came.
We lived in a house surrounded by a wall, there was plenty of room within the wall for other buildings that would eventually spring up with our family, but for now there was only one house. Our house was within the village and all the men had helped construct it when Kosey and I got married. We were very happy with our new life together until the white men came.
We heard the news from the Bird Man one evening. He was the eldest and wisest man in our village, with long hair the color of starlight. He told the village that the people of the coast had seen ships approaching, large ships with sails like clouds. These ships beached and strange men spewed forth from their decks. The Bird Man said that the people of the coast had seen these strange men move inland, destroying everything in their path.
I was frightened by what the Bird Man had said, but I did not believe we were in any danger. The men did not think so either.
"We have nothing to fear from these men!" shouted one of the younger men. "We are strong enough to keep ourselves safe!"
The Bird Man held up a hand. "Do not underestimate these men," he cautioned. "The people of the coast called them devils. They said that when these white men spoke it was like the hiss of a serpent and the roar of a lion as one. They are many, and they carry strange weapons. We must all take precautions against these creatures."
Later that evening I awoke with a start and felt in the darkness for Kosey. Feeling that something was wrong I was relieved when I felt his arm near mine. Quietly, so as not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and padded my way to the doorway. There was a faint glow behind the curtain that we used for a door and I pulled it aside slightly. What I saw, I will never forget. Behind our walls our village was burning. I could see the flames high in the moonless sky, lapping up my friends' and neighbors' houses.
My hand came to my mouth as I gasped in fright at the sight of four or five large men, silhouetted against the fire, enter our compound. I ran back to my husband and shook him awake.
"Kosey, Kosey! There are men outside!" I cried. He jumped out of bed, pulling me behind him. Just as he was reaching for his knife a man tore down the curtain in our doorway. I screamed as Kosey lunged, knife in hand, yelling, at the man. The man let out a yell of his own in pain as the knife cut through his arm. More men entered and rushed towards us. One dove for Kosey, taking him down and throwing me to the side as well. I landed face down on the floor and struggled to get up. A white man pushed me back down with his knee as he tried to tie my flailing arms together. I heard Kosey struggling over my own screaming as he tried to fight off the men pinning him down. Eventually the man had my hands tied and he roughly pulled me up. I kicked and screamed, trying to get away. He yelled something I could not understand and slapped me, hard, across my face. With tears rolling down my cheeks I was thrown outside and Kosey followed close behind. He also had his hands tied and had a gash in his thigh. We were pushed out into the village center where the white men were tying people together. I could barely see through my tears as I was roughly passed from person to person. I felt myself being tied to a taught rope but could only stand in shock. The person tied behind me leaned close and whispered, "Do not worry my darling, I am here." It was Kosey; I turned as far as I could and clung to him.
It was not long before we started moving. Pulled along by the rope, we walked into the darkness of the night with the fire from our village at our backs. I do not remember much of that long walk. Eventually I stopped crying and numbly put one foot in front of the other. I do remember that when we finally reached the coast I almost fell down with exhaustion. The white men hauled us aboard the monstrous boat. I turned at the yells of the white men down on the ground. They had caught a man trying to escape and were now forcing him onto the ship.
One of the white men who was already on board smiled. He would make the man who tried to escape an example for us, right there on the deck. This white man had long brown hair that was pulled back from his face. A coiled whip hung from his belt.
Below deck I found myself in shackles lying down on a sort of shelf. The air was filled with the moans of the dying and the stench of the dead. Thankfully, I was on the part of the shelf near the walkway so I had some air to breathe. Many were not so lucky. Little children were crushed by adults clawing for what little air and space they could get. The white men did not come down below the decks often; the smell is what probably deterred them. Kosey was separated from me at this time and I worried for his, as well as for my own survival of this wretched place.
We spent somewhere close to two months at sea. I prayed to Allah above that everyday would be our last on the ship. Wherever we were going had to be better than this place.
One day the ship stopped moving; I saw the light of the sun from an opening where the white men were coming below deck. They started to pull people off of the shelves. Long strings of people chained together were half dragged up the ladder to the sunshine. I could see that almost all of the people at the end of the chains were dead. A white man finally got to my row and roughly pulled me out; I was so happy that I was finally leaving this hell. I was so weak I could barely stand, but with fortitude I lumbered along to the ladder with my companions in chains.
Ah, the sun, my long lost friend. Blinking in his light above deck, I searched for my husband. I could not find him anywhere. I did not have long to look though as we were being separated into groups. Our chains were removed although the shackles were left, cutting into the flesh of our wrists.
We were bustled into little groups of four and five, men on one side and women on the other. Our captives led us off of the boat and into a harbor. More ships than I had ever seen were tied up to planks of wood that seemed to be floating above the water. We walked down one of these walkways and it made me nervous. Strange houses were built all along the water. We were led between two of these pointy buildings into a gathering of people. This was the first time any of us had ever seen a white woman or child. I did not know it was possible; these men became a little more human in my eyes.
One group at a time was pushed up on a platform at the center of the crowd of people, all gazing at them. A white man yelled out a lot of things to the crowd and they yelled things back at him. The whole thing reminded me of when a man wanted to sell something, like a goat of a few chickens, in the village. He would go to the center of town and other men would come and offer him money, or goods for his animals. Now we were the animals.
I saw him. Kosey was in the group of men up on the platform. I tried to call out to him, but all that came from my mouth was a coarse whisper. Tears filled me eyes as I struggled to be heard over the men yelling around me.
"Kosey, Kosey!" escaped as a moan when I saw his group led off the platform by a white man. He was with a woman and a child who shied away from my kinsmen. The tears flowed freely and I blindly stepped up onto the platform.
With much shouting our group of women was sold, like livestock, and split to different white men. The man who purchased me had yellow hair like straw under a black hat. His fave was kind, which made me distrustful having only seen white men with lust and greed in their eyes. This man's eyes though, were a deep blue, like the ocean, and only sheltered calm. He spoke softly to me in a language I could not understand. With a motion of his hand to follow him he led me out of the crowd and further into the big village.
The man stopped beside two large horses tied up to a kind of cart. It was strange for me to see these creatures tied for they ran free back in my homeland, but here it seemed the men used them to ride around. In the cart sat a woman and two children, a boy and a girl. The woman stood and I could see a kindness in her fave as well. Unlike her husband she had dark brown hair, nearly black, and hazel eyes, She motioned me to come up onto the cart and I did so cautiously. She reached out a hand towards me and I flinched as she gently laid it on my cheek.
Life has been good living with the Rivers family. Mrs. Rivers taught me English and even how to read a little. Mr. Rivers is the son of a plantation owner and we live on his father's land. Everyday he goes into town to his clinic; he's the only doctor around. Cooking and cleaning are my main two jobs, but I also watch over the children, feed the chickens, and do other small chores. I have come to accept my fate here in America, though I still weep in the night for my home land and my husband. The Rivers' are my family now, and I love them so. They are good to me. Emily is sixteen now and William is twelve, it is a shock to realize that I have been here for ten years now. In the evening Emily and I sit on the porch and I brush out her long dark hair, like her mother's. She talks to me about everything, I think of her as my own daughter.
Mrs. Rivers says that I need to find a good man. I insist that I already have a good man and will always have one. I miss him dearly. For the rest of my life I will never forget what our life together was like. Our life in Africa.
I heard, although I tried my best not to, the crack of the whip. I heard the grunt of a man in pain. I heard him say "Aba" in a hoarse whisper after the sting. I could not bear to watch so I hid my face in my husbands shoulder. My silent tears slid down his cool skin as his arms came around me.
"Shh," he comforted, "it will be alright."
How could it possibly be alright ever again? My husband, Kosey, and I had been stolen. Stolen from the land our ancestors had lived on, died on. I cried harder as I remembered the life we had had together before the white devils came.
We lived in a house surrounded by a wall, there was plenty of room within the wall for other buildings that would eventually spring up with our family, but for now there was only one house. Our house was within the village and all the men had helped construct it when Kosey and I got married. We were very happy with our new life together until the white men came.
We heard the news from the Bird Man one evening. He was the eldest and wisest man in our village, with long hair the color of starlight. He told the village that the people of the coast had seen ships approaching, large ships with sails like clouds. These ships beached and strange men spewed forth from their decks. The Bird Man said that the people of the coast had seen these strange men move inland, destroying everything in their path.
I was frightened by what the Bird Man had said, but I did not believe we were in any danger. The men did not think so either.
"We have nothing to fear from these men!" shouted one of the younger men. "We are strong enough to keep ourselves safe!"
The Bird Man held up a hand. "Do not underestimate these men," he cautioned. "The people of the coast called them devils. They said that when these white men spoke it was like the hiss of a serpent and the roar of a lion as one. They are many, and they carry strange weapons. We must all take precautions against these creatures."
Later that evening I awoke with a start and felt in the darkness for Kosey. Feeling that something was wrong I was relieved when I felt his arm near mine. Quietly, so as not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and padded my way to the doorway. There was a faint glow behind the curtain that we used for a door and I pulled it aside slightly. What I saw, I will never forget. Behind our walls our village was burning. I could see the flames high in the moonless sky, lapping up my friends' and neighbors' houses.
My hand came to my mouth as I gasped in fright at the sight of four or five large men, silhouetted against the fire, enter our compound. I ran back to my husband and shook him awake.
"Kosey, Kosey! There are men outside!" I cried. He jumped out of bed, pulling me behind him. Just as he was reaching for his knife a man tore down the curtain in our doorway. I screamed as Kosey lunged, knife in hand, yelling, at the man. The man let out a yell of his own in pain as the knife cut through his arm. More men entered and rushed towards us. One dove for Kosey, taking him down and throwing me to the side as well. I landed face down on the floor and struggled to get up. A white man pushed me back down with his knee as he tried to tie my flailing arms together. I heard Kosey struggling over my own screaming as he tried to fight off the men pinning him down. Eventually the man had my hands tied and he roughly pulled me up. I kicked and screamed, trying to get away. He yelled something I could not understand and slapped me, hard, across my face. With tears rolling down my cheeks I was thrown outside and Kosey followed close behind. He also had his hands tied and had a gash in his thigh. We were pushed out into the village center where the white men were tying people together. I could barely see through my tears as I was roughly passed from person to person. I felt myself being tied to a taught rope but could only stand in shock. The person tied behind me leaned close and whispered, "Do not worry my darling, I am here." It was Kosey; I turned as far as I could and clung to him.
It was not long before we started moving. Pulled along by the rope, we walked into the darkness of the night with the fire from our village at our backs. I do not remember much of that long walk. Eventually I stopped crying and numbly put one foot in front of the other. I do remember that when we finally reached the coast I almost fell down with exhaustion. The white men hauled us aboard the monstrous boat. I turned at the yells of the white men down on the ground. They had caught a man trying to escape and were now forcing him onto the ship.
One of the white men who was already on board smiled. He would make the man who tried to escape an example for us, right there on the deck. This white man had long brown hair that was pulled back from his face. A coiled whip hung from his belt.
Below deck I found myself in shackles lying down on a sort of shelf. The air was filled with the moans of the dying and the stench of the dead. Thankfully, I was on the part of the shelf near the walkway so I had some air to breathe. Many were not so lucky. Little children were crushed by adults clawing for what little air and space they could get. The white men did not come down below the decks often; the smell is what probably deterred them. Kosey was separated from me at this time and I worried for his, as well as for my own survival of this wretched place.
We spent somewhere close to two months at sea. I prayed to Allah above that everyday would be our last on the ship. Wherever we were going had to be better than this place.
One day the ship stopped moving; I saw the light of the sun from an opening where the white men were coming below deck. They started to pull people off of the shelves. Long strings of people chained together were half dragged up the ladder to the sunshine. I could see that almost all of the people at the end of the chains were dead. A white man finally got to my row and roughly pulled me out; I was so happy that I was finally leaving this hell. I was so weak I could barely stand, but with fortitude I lumbered along to the ladder with my companions in chains.
Ah, the sun, my long lost friend. Blinking in his light above deck, I searched for my husband. I could not find him anywhere. I did not have long to look though as we were being separated into groups. Our chains were removed although the shackles were left, cutting into the flesh of our wrists.
We were bustled into little groups of four and five, men on one side and women on the other. Our captives led us off of the boat and into a harbor. More ships than I had ever seen were tied up to planks of wood that seemed to be floating above the water. We walked down one of these walkways and it made me nervous. Strange houses were built all along the water. We were led between two of these pointy buildings into a gathering of people. This was the first time any of us had ever seen a white woman or child. I did not know it was possible; these men became a little more human in my eyes.
One group at a time was pushed up on a platform at the center of the crowd of people, all gazing at them. A white man yelled out a lot of things to the crowd and they yelled things back at him. The whole thing reminded me of when a man wanted to sell something, like a goat of a few chickens, in the village. He would go to the center of town and other men would come and offer him money, or goods for his animals. Now we were the animals.
I saw him. Kosey was in the group of men up on the platform. I tried to call out to him, but all that came from my mouth was a coarse whisper. Tears filled me eyes as I struggled to be heard over the men yelling around me.
"Kosey, Kosey!" escaped as a moan when I saw his group led off the platform by a white man. He was with a woman and a child who shied away from my kinsmen. The tears flowed freely and I blindly stepped up onto the platform.
With much shouting our group of women was sold, like livestock, and split to different white men. The man who purchased me had yellow hair like straw under a black hat. His fave was kind, which made me distrustful having only seen white men with lust and greed in their eyes. This man's eyes though, were a deep blue, like the ocean, and only sheltered calm. He spoke softly to me in a language I could not understand. With a motion of his hand to follow him he led me out of the crowd and further into the big village.
The man stopped beside two large horses tied up to a kind of cart. It was strange for me to see these creatures tied for they ran free back in my homeland, but here it seemed the men used them to ride around. In the cart sat a woman and two children, a boy and a girl. The woman stood and I could see a kindness in her fave as well. Unlike her husband she had dark brown hair, nearly black, and hazel eyes, She motioned me to come up onto the cart and I did so cautiously. She reached out a hand towards me and I flinched as she gently laid it on my cheek.
Life has been good living with the Rivers family. Mrs. Rivers taught me English and even how to read a little. Mr. Rivers is the son of a plantation owner and we live on his father's land. Everyday he goes into town to his clinic; he's the only doctor around. Cooking and cleaning are my main two jobs, but I also watch over the children, feed the chickens, and do other small chores. I have come to accept my fate here in America, though I still weep in the night for my home land and my husband. The Rivers' are my family now, and I love them so. They are good to me. Emily is sixteen now and William is twelve, it is a shock to realize that I have been here for ten years now. In the evening Emily and I sit on the porch and I brush out her long dark hair, like her mother's. She talks to me about everything, I think of her as my own daughter.
Mrs. Rivers says that I need to find a good man. I insist that I already have a good man and will always have one. I miss him dearly. For the rest of my life I will never forget what our life together was like. Our life in Africa.
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