The Mariner

To dive beneath your skin

Where the scent of sunrays and mountain peaks beckon me.

Oh sirens!

Your melody, so sweet

Hangs like a vice around my heart.

I’ve become accustomed to the ache.

In moments it loosens,

And I am aware of its yield

Stay! I beg for more of the rhythmic pounding that follows its cadence.

It pulls me to the undertow

Where air evades me-

Far beneath the waves that have cracked the shallow surface.
Deep...
I find myself crashing to the ocean floor, my brain dizzied by orchestration.
In moments of clarity there is solace in this place of vulnerability.
The vastness of warmth, here, in this space only we two, share.
Caught off guard by a gaze inviting me closer into the depth of you,
I'm leery of timeless tales, of the melodies relayed by those on shore
Those with deep furrows in faces scoured clean and fragile by years of salt water embedded in their skin.
You wrap your strong arms around me, inviting me further...inviting release.
Breathless, I succumb. I have nothing left to offer.
Nothing to give. My body grows limp.
Like a miracle, you grab my face and place your lips to mine. Life pours into me.
An aria. Music I've have never encountered floods my ears. Sharp. Crisp. Bellowing. Pure. It's almost too much to contain, and I break away for a moment of respite.
But, I quickly realize it is something my soul is in need of in this vast unknown territory.
In the darkness, I am guided toward the familiar tune.
Until our lips meet again.
I have but one request. 

If I drown entangled in this one breath between us…

Please, heavenly creature…

Sing me home


Poem by Tracy Medberry 2012; Video: Never Let Me Go by Florence and the Machine, Universal Island Records 2012

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Fix Me

My rant of the day is around this song called Fix You, by Coldplay.
I have a love-hate relationship with this song, albeit not as bad as Electric Feel by MGMT, which just completely torqued me off after I had a good listen to the lyrics - I mean come on, shock me like an electric eel. Not to mention the music video has the feel of a creepy, egregious, knock off done by a member of the Peter Jackson Restraining Order Club.

But don’t let me get my undies in a wad over this. Because sadly, I still find myself swaying to this song, electric eel and all, when it finds its way to my radio dial.
But, I get this is just some cheesy pop song, meant for people to dance to at the clubs. It’s catchy. Nothing more, nothing less.

It doesn’t toy with your emotions, leaving you having deep philosophical conversations with yourself late into the night.

Here is where Fix You, by Coldplay comes in. It is a gorgeous song. It’s a song many have embraced for advertisements, for choreography, or for just when in need of an inspirational moment. It’s a song with which my soul connects. It hits me at the gut level every time I hear it, especially as the song builds to its climax with the a simple quickening of an electric guitar melody, followed by the layering of drums, burning their pattern into my ears and my heart. And then comes the final layer. The lyrics:
Tears stream down your face, when you lose something you cannot replace. Tears stream down your face, and I. Tears stream down your face. I promise you, I will learn from my mistakes. Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you.

So, even if you are the Grench, your heart is most likely swelling by this point. What adds to the agony, is that it was supposedly written by Chris Martin for his wife Gwenyth Paltrow, after her father died. She comes home drenched in tears. Her husband asks what he can do for her. And she replies something to the affect of “Just hold me, because you’re the only thing that can fix me right now.” The single thought of this, is incredibly romantic.

But what if you have someone in your life, who believes this to be true to their core? What if it’s not a one time tragic event? What if it’s years upon years of tears and pain and grief? What if the person’s hands are bloody and their soul is tired from trying to fix you?

When does it become one’s responsibility to take a step of faith to change negative patterns and take steps to fix oneself? To possibly take some insight from The Serenity Prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference

I’m not saying we don’t need a safe place to fall from time to time. I’m not saying change can’t be elicited from the inspiring words of a loved one. I’m not saying I don’t love this song. I do believe, everyone needs encouragement, hugs, intimacy, inspiration, LOVE. People need other people who will spur the on when times get rough.

But when does this encouragement become enabling? When does it teach the other that she cannot do for herself - that she needs another to be whole or fixed? What happens when she begins to believe she holds no value apart from another human- The person who’s been trying for so long to bear the responsibility of fixing her?

What if, instead, she, like Dorothy, in The Wizard of Oz, finally realizes those walking beside her on her path to find home, had no special powers to fix her? They were incredible, reliable, loyal, and inspiring companions. They were valued friends to share in a journey, help keep one another from danger, care for one another. But those companions could never guide her home. Fortunately she discovers in the end, she has had in her possession the whole time, the thing she most needed at the core of her being: the ruby-red slippers. The one thing that would guide her home. That would fix her.

Ten Angels

Ten angels wildly dance on the head of your pen,
They peer on with anticipation as new melodies,
Crafted with your ink, take their first breath.
I see them. Clothed in brilliance, but like children on Christmas morning
Excitedly drawing closer to each syllable until it is finally time to unwrap your next “ahaha!”.

Ten angels sitting on your shoulder, tonight as you sleep,
Eagerly awaiting the moment when the dawn kisses your lips
And the sun bursts forth from your mouth singing praises to your Creator.

Ten groggy-eyed angels,
Lying on the edge of your morning cup of joe
Inhaling just enough caffeinated fumes
To make up for last night’s deficit.

Ten slightly buzzed angels
Doing deep stretches on your writing tablet
Before they take their rightful place atop your pen.
Knowing today’s performance is just about to begin.

And then...

Encore!

Honesty

It hurts to breathe
The viper’s pit has returned
And I feel the venom slowly release through my veins.
I’m tired of the pity parties, the self doubt, the self incrimination...
The pain.
Yet, there they sit, like fodder off which the wild beast living inside me feeds.
Or a child’s favorite toy, which my brain latches onto and won’t release.
To melt inside your warmth...
To truly know your warmth, for that matter
Is a place of longing where my aching heart resides.
This emptiness, slowly sucking the marrow from my bones.
Too weak to walk among the broken shells of our honesty;
Honesty - ripping the life out of me.

Flames

How do we put out a house we’ve set on fire,
When we’re standing in the middle of the flames?
Sometimes guilty of holding the propellant?
Many would say the rational would flee to safety, never looking back...
But here we lie, intoxicated by the fumes, going into depth about the horror we see around us.
How do you feel about that shade of violet?
I think I saw it in a Bunsen burner, during my childhood.
Is the heat beginning to burn your skin?
It feels like the sunburn I got when I was 10. I cried then.
The smoke is beginning to fill my lungs.
You should have stayed lower to the ground, like me.
Observation, Contemplation, Deliberation, Theorization, and finally...
What color should we paint the living room next?
Avoidance.
The flames are encompassing us.
The weight of the house is falling around us, turning to ash.
It’s funny. Never once did we think to reach for a pail of water.

Stent

Skin on skin
Breath on skin
Your words like porcelain,
Fell
Instantly creating a chasm.
Slow motion
I saw you fumble to catch your last syllable
But it was too late.
They hit my ears like a tidal wave
ROARING
burning, careening
Until they found their rightful place
In the middle of my chest.
Resuscitation.
I pushed each ah, ee, and ew
Deeper and deeper inside until I could no longer feel the pain
And my breath returned to me.
Time after time, again and again
Simple words.
Nothing more, nothing less,
Began to clog my insides.
Your voice - once my sanctuary
Now ran like shards of glass down a blackboard.
In guilt and love, you came to me.
And I grasped each affirmation, a tiny stent, to replace the damage
Hoping blood might flow and my heart might beat again.
I looked to you, oh my surgeon, for bandaid-sized repair.
When, perhaps what I needed, was transplantation.