Summer Rain

Summer Rain Is Pounding
It’s Cleansing My Soul
I Am Growing Weary And Letting Go
Summer Rain Is Pounding
It Echo’s In My Head
I Should Stay But I Want To Run Instead
Where would I go if I flee
Summer Rain Is Pounding
Sleepless nights call to me
Dancing demons in the dark
Summer Rain Is Pounding
Calling Out To Me…

By: Mars Lefever
Published/Copyright ©
Summer Rain

If I Could, I Would Have…

Erased Rejection Form My Vocabulary
Skateboarded
Read Extensively
Colored My Hair Blue
Wore A Bikini
Listened A Little Closer
Sang Regardless
Mastered The Saxophone
Voted Regularly
Expelled House Cleaning
Never Faked An Orgasm
Owned More Cats
Stopped The Abuse
Doubled The Nuts In Brownies
Posed Naked
Dated Less, Played More
Home Schooled
Taken Up Tango
Said NO More Often
Spoke French
Painted Erotica
Pierced More, Tattooed Less
Traveled Alone
Streaked
Hugged Everyone
Forgave
Kept Notes
I Can…

Mars Meadows
“Reflections Group”
Copyright ©

Tramp

Crocodiles

A fragment of what slightly resembles me, my face is tear trodden and swallow with sorrow. It feels like birds are picking at my brain and I an only wish I still had a gun. I recall the scene from steel magnolias as when they guns were fired and the birds fled from every tall tree… I am not so sure they would find there way through my maze of emotion to free them. However if the load was lifted in the slightest I may once again see the smile that lurks in this darkness. Betrayal is looming and the thought raises my pulse to one of a marathoners. I am no longer in a healthy relationship. I can no longer hold back my disappointment and resentments. I am so madly in love with the man, and he only is capable of giving me what is left at the end piercing sounds are vibrating in my head foggy notions which spell disaster repeatedly echo from within I have lost my balance and way to see the clarity that once encompassed me. Old patterns ring with sorrow as I try and find a way through his addiction that is self-absorbed, hurtful. In his intimate prescriptions justifying them all, they are like his lifeblood, and I can no longer prescribe. I am tired of smiling and pretending his desire is to dwell amongst the fallen is acceptable and resolving; while crocodiles lurk closely ready to devour my remains the minute I stumble. I am dancing with the crocodiles and they are much better at the two step than I ever thought possible. I long to crawl up within myself and wait for someone to save me from this emotional fuck I have created with all my bullshit of acceptance. I am the ticket, perched in the corner, watching the insanity encompass me. I have allowed the behaviors such behaviors in hopes he would love me … but the crocodiles are gaining and I to weak to challenge…..If they could only swallow me whole remove me from this nightmare, But I am growing old, and weary long before my time. I love him so. Let him go…

Mars Meadows Lefever ©
June 2007

First Born Son Of Mine

First Born Son of Mine

Someday he is going to stay, but not today.
He yearns for the family I broke years ago
Tormented, angry searching for his place.
He wanders the streets wide eyed.
His pants are frayed, his smile is endless.
He dodges Italian suits and silicone smiles;
they are faceless successors that endorse his inadequate education.
The 15 ½ inch wide board cuts through the crowds like a shooting star.
Searching as the pavement blends like days lost.
Viewing each face that may resemble his.
Trapped in color.
Someday he is going to stay, but not today.

By: Mars Meadows
Matt Dishman Center ©

Butterflies

I have friends who are settling for comfortable, but I refuse to date a mini van. I want butterflies, fireworks, I want the big, POW! I’ve had it before, I know it’s out there, and I’m not going to settle until I find it.

I know that feeling so well, don’t you? I’ve had it before… I’m seeking it now and I REFUSE to settle for just comfortable....I can't!

“Butterflies” are an indescribable feeling that you never want to end. They are thrilling and exciting and there’s nothing else like them. I’ll admit that it I love the feeling.

The simplest things can cause them to appear…a simple smile from across the room, and hand held tightly, butterfly kisses, their scent along their collar, they way they flutter inside my stomach and send goose bumps down my spine. The mystery will lay within ones self when finding a new butterfly. To active the soul, re-charge the energy, of both of us from within.

I have no regrets when my butterfly took flight, I do not miss his presence. I do miss the sense of calm and security, I’ve still got my net, I will continue to search some more, never trapping or caging my butterfly, yet share in the joys we have in common when we spread our wings. I hope he can sit beside me for a while, take in all life's wonders and dance in the wind with all the butterflies.
Shouldn’t we all be chasing butterflies?
Push me from my ledge…. Make me fly…. I may come your way!