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As a native of Mississippi I have recently returned to the richness of my home-grown culture. I find myself overwhelmed at times by the heritage and history I am surrounded by. The landscape, the scents, the passion, not to mention the compassion of the people who hang their hats here, seem to have been untainted by the enormity and the hardness of the outside world. When I take a drive down long and winding roads weaving the intricate pattern around my home, I am always amazed at the numerous old barns still standing so proudly erect. They mark old home places left behind by our elders seemingly untainted in our current fast paced and competitively expanding society. The property surrounding most has been passed down, along family lineages and is now adorned with brick and stucco homes, circular driveways and iron clad fencing. But not so long gone are the white or fallen original fencing of our ancestors. We, of the southern culture, continue to display our prideful heritage to completely adore our historical foundations. I spend plenty of time on a four wheeler or trod about on foot allowing my senses to pull me toward each beloved site where I listen for the faint whispers that seem to call me forth. I swear at times the ghosts of our past have much more to say than even my eye or my lens can capture. But this is what I do. With my camera always in tow, I am obnoxious at best, traveling this delicious state of ours. With my feet on the ground, my eyes wide open, listening for my next place of call I trudge forward hoping that my next stop will be as gratifying as the previous. 
Show Me Heaven
I followed you. Around the corners of houses, through sticks
pounded into the ground creating our wooden gates, between
rows of pecan trees and sunflower airstrips, across rivers
you've swam, into, the the tangle and bramble of your sacred
forest. The place where you cut your hair and
tore your gown.
Over stripped down dead brown leaves.
Between finger branches teething, scratching.
Beneath moss
a green blanket
hiding and hanging.
Up into the tree you crawled
into the cradling limbs where
you wept and dreamt,
then found yourself laying
at the top,
at the edge.
Waiting.
It's okay now, forgiving first of yourself
for now forgiving them. Now they will
know
that I leaned down and over you
wisped the curls
of your hair.
...........and then,
followed through.
Wake up now, the sun is risen.
Pounding through the curtains...........
that once felt harsh to your eyes.
© February 6, 2007 Suzanne Crenshaw
[Table of Contents] Seven Things I Plan To Do Before I Die: 1. Go to South Africa and meet Anthea. 2. Have a "Strobe Light" installed in my bathroom. 3. See my grandchildren born. 4. Get back in shape...tone these muscles! 5. Live next door to my brother and his family. 6. Forgive myself. 7. Become a part of something I truly believe in. Seven Things I Can Do: 1. Smile 2. Be a great mommy. 3. Whip out fantastic hair color. 4. Open and close a gate. 5. Help others feel comfortable and important. 6. Snap an interesting photograph. 7. Jump out of an airplane....with glee. Seven Things I Can't Do: 1. Scuba Dive. 2. Cure myself. 3. Snow-ski. 4. Seem to understand Richard. 5. Have blonde hair. 6. Hate (anyone or anything). 7. Fake an orgasm. Seven Things That Attract Me To Another Person: 1. Nice smile. 2. Sense of humor. 3. Ability to be "themselves" (No matter what) 4. Mysterious eyes. 6. Tender heart. 7. Thoughtful usage of unspoken talents. Seven Things I say Most Often: 1. "Come See..." 2. "I Love You..." 3. "What did you say...?" 4. "In a minute...." 5. "That's funny..." 6. "Fuck you...(under my breath)" 7. "Take a number...(and please be seated)" [Table of Contents] THE FALL~ Oh, the memories of summer Mine, held fast. The sweet smell of coconut, still lingers in the air. The sweat, the steam. Our hearts opened, words pouring from our mouths. Conversation, at last! Ever so fading, the color is now draining. Life and death, dance together. My heart feels cold. Something was left, undone. My mind, my soul. What's left I shall unfold. Would you like to take a peek? Do you really care to see? What is left of what you made of me. If so, Be still, Be quiet. Hide patiently from me. I am running now. I pass you by. Chillingly, I catch a glimpse of you from the corner of my eye. Run after me. Catch me. Pull me to the ground. I'd let you. Reach for your knife, we know the one. Grasp it gently with your strong hands. Hold me down.......harder! Then carve at me softly, as you please. Take a close look. What is it that you see? Tell me.... How do I differ from the furry ones? The slimy ones? The feathered ones? Does my blood not flow the same? It's color...not dark enough for your taste? Or was it the kill? Below or demeaning your level of skill? Too easy? Or was it not "FUN" enough for you? Hey, I know that my ears are uneven. That my skin is not flawless. Or was it simply what you saw when you opened me? Tell me...something....try to explain! Why am I not hanging with your other trophies against your walls? Was I.... Too old? Too dull? Asshole, I loved you. I was merely a woman who wanted so much to feel. Something. Anything. I no longer "long" for that....still. I wish you not, Because I forgot The feeling you gave....the depths of numb. I hear that you are a "Bottom Feeder" now. It sucked you down. I pray more for you still. But back to then.... Reach for your knife, Yeah, duh! The same one..... Now grasp it tightly with your anger, Show me your tears. Carve at me again, and again. Please.... Do not look away from me. I need to see you, all of you. I'm swimming in the depths of your icy blue eyes. I hunger for the sound of your laughter. Laugh for me one more time. At me. At anything. Contagiously, it soothes me. Watch me then, as my eyes slowly shut. Bordered with red, yet you barely cut! Kiss my eyelids. Then pull away as you ponder my slight smile. I need to feel, once more, the warmth of my tears. As they fall, intermingling with yours, Recreating the depths of my soul. That's where LiQuiD was born. Needing to see. Needing to feel The warmth of my blood ooze, Then pour, Over my now cold flesh. LiQuiD....loving you, still. You have carved me so beautifully. Oh my, With such skill. I feel pretty now. Peaceful. Fuck you. Fuck me. Where the world can now see. On my deathbed. [Table of Contents] [Table of Contents] [Table of Contents] [Table of Contents] [Table of Contents] [Table of Contents] [Table of Contents] [Table of Contents] TILL DEATH DO US PART~ Why do you watch As my tears slowly fall? Why do you care If their there at all? Who really cares What I feel? Love me. Drug me. With just one more pill. So you think you know What stirs in my head? What if I told you That I wished you were dead? In my mind By a dim blue light I slit your throat You were too drunk to fight. Your blood was so red Yet my hands were both clean. At that time My mind and my soul Held nothing between. I eased to the floor For what seemed like hours. Ten minutes passed Then a knock on our door. Crazy, I was sure you'd sent flowers. I tried to rise But could not stand. Opened my eyes Then realized.... I'd been in a sweet dream land. [Table of Contents] |
