I will think of him no more

Except

As a passing thought

A fading memory

Of what once was

What was never to be

*iamlenise*

Answering the Call

i have dreamed dreams

of moons rising

of suns setting

of worlds spinning, in reverse

around castles and mountains, laid waste

echoing cries

of gods and men, long-forgotten

heroes fallen

princes reborn

hearts pierced, yearning

rose petals scattered, waiting

to become whole

to sing

to surge

to soar

to touch the gates

of highest heaven

once more..

©iamlenise

Majestic Mountains. By NASA/JPL-Caltech/L. Allen (Harvard-Smithsonian CfA) via Wikimedia Commons

Normalcy

I was.won’t.never.ever.will be

Needing everyone’s approval.

Ordinary. Simple. The Same.

Running with the pack.

Made to live an in-style life.

Always on the go.

Leaning on popular opinion.

~i was.am.always.will be lenise~

Mountaineering pictogram (2)

So..I’m not really sure what this blog is about anymore, which — in a very fitting way — makes absolute sense, because I’m not sure what my life is about anymore.  My grandma died last year just before Thanksgiving and I’ve been feeling a bit lost since then.  She was my heart and my best friend and the only person who I ever felt really accepted me just as I am — weirdness and all!  Needless to say, the holidays don’t mean as much to me as they once did.  The spirit and joy of these special times when families and friends gather for hugs and kisses seem to feel a bit dim and foreign to me now..

I have one other person in my life who — not that she can ever be replaced — comes as close as possible to holding the same position of importance in my life.  He’s my dearest friend and my biggest support system, and I honestly don’t know what I would do without him.  But, like everyone else, he has his own problems and issues and self-discovery moments to deal with, so I know that I can’t rely on his ears and hugs 24/7.

Writing and pictures have always been the only way that I can find myself, calm myself, pull myself back together before my mind floats off into oblivion.  At times, I battle with depression and self-loathing, not because my life is so terrible but because I sometimes have no idea whose life I’m living.  The more I think about it, the more I realize this is and has always been the problem — I have no idea who I really am or who I really want to be.  I live in a mold of who everyone thinks that I am and who they’re sure I should be..and I humbly and obediently accepted these roles as best I could, when all the time I was crying inside from frustration and confusion because none of it fit the real me..

For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t write anything..just flashes of words and images..Now I finally understand that it’s because I feel fractured inside, torn between all of these imaginary fragments of the person I was trying to pretend to be for whoever I was with at the moment.  In truth, I’m plain and simple.  I’d rather spend time talking with one good friend than pretend to be enjoying fifty different conversations in a bar packed with people.  The fashion police probably won’t ever pull me over, but I’m definitely not a fashionista and never will be..the list goes on and on..

I’m just me, a mixed bag of emotions and thoughts that flow outward and inward from one moment to the next.  Awkward and odd.  Daring and humble.  Polite and pondering.  Quiet and bold.  Ready to break free and really live and breathe and feel, to touch forever and feel forever returning my eager embrace..

So, I dream on..here and wherever I can catch a glimpse of myself shining bright..

Again, if you actually follow this blog, pardon my random bursts of words and pictures, my shifting themes and methods..or the seemingly disconnection from one post to the next..with me everything connects along the way..keys on a ring trying to open an infinite number of doors..until I find the one I should step through.

This small, tucked away blog..like me..is a work continually in progress..iamlenise..

It is my hope that ‘The Interviews’ will help to explain what is about to come next.  Look away now, because the tale that has been twisting within my chest is not filled with bright blue skies and sweet dreams of colorful kisses.  Even so, it is a story that I wish to tell.  Perhaps then..maybe, only then?..will I be able to walk past this mire I find myself wandering through.  I think I have shaken off the idea of moving the text of this serial dark romance to another blog.  The purpose of this online writing journal is to discover who I am and to be at peace with all of the pieces that compose me, both light and dark.  Along for the ride? Wonderful! If not..hugs and best wishes.  Either way, it’s time for me to take this walk.

Waves

I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble.  The world is moved along not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker. ~ Helen Keller

The Interview – Part II

Interviewer: (Smiles to himself.)

Me: What?

Interviewer: I get in now.

Me: (A mischievous grin lifts my cheeks, and I glance away.)

Interviewer: Oh…don’t play the shy roll now.

Me: But I’m so good at it.  (My response is purposefully coy.)

Interviewer: So, am I the clown?

Me: (A full grin now dons my face.)  I have no idea what you mean.

Interviewer: (Laughs a little then squints his eyes.  He’s trying to search my thoughts.  Finding nothing to grab onto, he pushes his impromptu interview forward.)  Alright, you win…for now.

Me: I graciously accept your surrender, sir.

Interviewer: Back to the question I’ve been dying to ask…Why the change of tone?  Why so dark now?

Me: That’s exactly the key.

Interviewer:  How so?  Which part?

Me: Questions.  (My eyes sweep across the bustling café scene.)  Some people see the world in pictures, some in prose, other in rhythms, or even dollars or Euros.  But, all I see are questions.  And now, I want answers.

Interviewer: Does this mean no more fairy tale endings?

Me: (Smirks.)  That’s not what I said.  I want to find out what really makes the human heart beat.  Why do sad love songs stir up old, long-forgotten emotions?  Why don’t we really love the person we’re with until they tell us that this is the last good-bye?  Why is it that when I hurt so badly, immediately afterward, I feel so much more alive than ever before?

Interviewer: (Silence.  I can read his thoughts, and his eyes reflect him reliving these exact defining moments I have just described.)

Me: I want to deconstruct romance.  Break it into fragments that I can understand…feel…accept as real, not just whimsical, wishful fantasy.  When I pull it all back together, I want the picture finally to make sense.

Interviewer: (More silence.)

Me: (Sips more of the liquid salve from the cup I am clutching.  This isn’t the first time my random thoughts and theories have left someone bewildered and speechless.)

Keep my heart and mind open to change..and don’t fear the mistakes I may make along the way.

The Interview – Part I

Interviewer: Superman or Batman?

Me: How do you mean?

Interviewer: As a love interest.  You know…you’re favorite hero…

Me: Oh, I see. (Sips from an over-sized coffee cup.) Hm…neither.

Interviewer: Really?  You don’t fancy either?  That’s a shock.  Most women would love to be Lois for a day.

Me: (Smirks slightly.) I’m not most women. Besides…Isn’t she always on someone’s hit list because of her boyfriend?

Interviewer: (Shifts slightly in his cushioned no-name coffee-shop chair.) True. (Looks down at his notepad then taps a few keystrokes before returning eye contact.) So…I’m still curious, why wouldn’t you pick either of them?

Me: (Rolls eyes.) They’re both terrible boring.

Interviewer: How so? (Stops typing and presses his palm against his face.)

Me: Well.  (Turns head to watch a couple walk past the store window.  Neither is speaking to the other.  Both are frantically thumb-typing onto dark rectangular boxes gripped between steady palms.) Superman has his righteousness, and Batman has his vengeance.

Interviewer:  And?

Me: And that’s it. There’s nothing else going on in their lives.  Their paths are already set.  Neither of them really needs a woman by his side.

Interviewer: (Leans slightly to the left to catch my attention once more.) I don’t get it.  Please explain a little more of your theory.

Me: A hero is exactly that. (Takes another huge gulp of cream-only caramel-mocha coffee.) There is no room for change.  He or she has a job that requires their complete and utter focus all day, every day.  Self-discovery is only for the purpose of becoming a better hero, not a better person.  Love becomes an inconvenience that they must bear in order to appear normal to the masses.

Interviewer: (Raises both eyebrows slightly.) Am I speaking with the right person? (A scoff hovers in his voice.)  Is this the same Lenise Lee who once thrived on drafting dime-store-rated romance novellas? Who once wrote that she is (uses crooked-fingers to mimic quoting.) ‘in love with being in love’?

Me: (Unblinking.) One and the same.

Interviewer:  So what has changed?

Me: Everything. (Glances at the table across from us.  The couple from outside are now seated there, and their thumbs are still hammering away.  Five minutes have passed and neither has uttered anything more than an order to the waitress.)

Interviewer: (Touches the outside of my hands and presses them firmly against the cup I am holding.) Don’t leave me hanging. (His voice does a great impression of sounding sincere.) Tell me what happened to cause this huge one-eighty.

Me: (My gut reaction is to jerk away, but I hold steady.  I’ve seen this look on men’s faces before.  It’s my eyes.  Dark and mysterious.  Men seem to be drawn in like moths to a flame, which is why I never hold eye contact for too long.  This time I let my guard down and here is the result.  I smile a friendly, non-committal grin then casually move my hands away and fold them under my chin.) Well, if you really want to know…I went in search of a knight in shining armor and all I ever found were harlequins.

Interviewer:  (He blinks his eyes and then shifts back in his chair. The spell is broken.  It’s as clear as a blue sky that he’s never heard of that word before, and I do nothing to help explain the term.) Hm. Okay.  (Soon, he’s typing again, and I know that he’s trying to Google that term.  The conversation comes to an abrupt end, and I go back to people watching.)

If you have no idea what I’m about to do, just watch and wait..then you’ll see time spin to a stop right before your eyes..and you’ll forget that world you once knew

112913 / 1630

Shay

—–

“The queen is missing.”

I awake to whispers from a fading dream haunting my thoughts.  Remnants of that other reality ripple through my body.  The howls of the beasts roaming outside these thin walls have startled me from my sleep, but the world that I have just departed from beckons me to return to the comforts of its enchanted realm.  When I finally recall where I am and that the horrid world that I truly belong to surrounds me on all sides, my breath becomes ragged and my heart nearly fails me.  Heavy, deep sobs and sighs burst from within the tightness of my lungs.  Silent screams were the worst to bear, so I allow the dark depths of my loneliness and agony to fill the air all around me.  My cries are silenced by the sound of heavy banging from the other side of the wall behind me.  My neighbor must have become annoyed with listening to my strangled tears.  As soon as I grew quiet, so did he.

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Haunted

Tell me how to forget.

Tell me how to let go.

To make this go away.

Ease this burden.

Please tell me how to release this breath,

I have been holding deep within

For so long.

Frozen in time,

Deprived of air.

Tell me how much I need

To drown myself

In hopes

In dreams

In sorrows…

Endless words…

Before I can finally be free

Of this puzzling memory.

Just once.

Just this once…

Please…

Step out of my thoughts,

Fill this voided space

In the caverns of my heart —

Dispelling the darkness

go or stay

stand or run

dream forever or be irrevocably awake

see all in one surreal, aching flash or shut out everything

cast a shadow or illuminate every creeping crevice

follow the path of the sun or become enchanted by the lullaby of the moon

keep quiet or shout, until the words echo back

ringing my ears

tossing off the cloak of despair

healing the blind eye

cleansing the marred heart

awakening the senses

sharpening the mind

preparing the soul

taking the breath

freeing the body

releasing the full force of destiny

Have I imagined all this, or

Have I just opened the door to reality

I know what I want to do

So why don’t I ever have the strength to do it

I feel the surge of infinite nature

The essence of a thousand glimmering suns

Racing through my veins

Yet the echo announces

Not yet

Steady yourself

Calm the storm

Lower the candle flame

The night is darker than it seems

Hide yourself behind me

Cloak yourself in the countenance of my wings

Shield yourself beneath my thoughts

Not because I despise your light

Because I want to protect it

Nurture it

Enhance it

Make it untouchable

From the reach of probing fingers

Which seek to extinguish it for always…

Even a single lamp dispels the deepest darkness.

Mahatma Gandhi

I think, like most people, my relentless search is for something much bigger than myself.  The sensation is almost impossible to describe.  Hm, like a memory that I just cannot pull together.  I keep thinking there is something I am supposed to be doing, right now, at this one moment, instead of just sitting here watching this colorful monitor.  At one point, I could draft an entire novella in a day.  Now, I struggle to eek out a single one-thousand word chapter within that same time frame.  What is it?  What has changed within me so much that my writing has become so abrupt.  I can see the stories, and most of them are already well-past finished in the spirals of my imagination, yet they refused to form whole and coherant bodies of work.

I’m intently waiting to reach that next level.  Eyes open.  Ears tuned.  Lips trembling with silent prayers.  I am finding the keys, but where is the door?

Does anyone else hear it?  Feel it?  Sense it?  Movement..a pulse..a beat..a whisper..a thought..an urge to gather..Waiting..watching..listening..as the slow and purposeful wanderer approaches..masked by the noise of this world, hidden behind the blinders we wear, but always real and ever-present.

Kisses like cream.  Taste sweeter than milky chocolate.

i can’t stop

thinking about the future. hoping to forget the past. struggling through the now.

no matter what. my heart beats strong. my spirit pulses free. my mind journeys beyond the moment.

a runner. waiting for the perfect race. counting down the seconds. taking the pose. head bowed. knees arched. fingers pressed into the earth.

ready?

set?

the world crawls to an aching stillness.

all of creation fixes into perfect silence.

the pop hits the air

stay the course

keep focused

pound the dirt until every limb burns

win.

there is no other choice

i can’t stop

until i touch the void

step across the finish

bring down the boundaries

break the binds

see the eternal light

i am

victorious.

.

.

.

.

lenise

Olympic pictogram Athletics

On This Morning

Tropinin Girl with roses. Vasily Andreevich Tropinin. 1850.

I want today to be a fresh start.

I want to open my opens and see possibilities, not dead ends.

On this morning, I want to be Free to be happy, content, hopeful.

I need to feel my Spirit overflowing with radiance, touched by a spark of Divinity.

Whatever I accomplish in these small hours, if it be one small task or the moving of a great mountain, may my works have Meaning.

May my one Smile bring joy to as many people as it touches, and as many who will receive the love hiding within its gleam.

Today, I want to Believe. I want to Live. I want to Soar beyond the Great Heavens.

~

iamlenise

We Are

Suðuroy_rainbow2_wikicommons_ErikChristensen

Writers.

Lovers.

Humble.

Bold.

Inspired.

Invincible.

Powerful.

Hopeful Romantics.

United in a Quest.

For Truth. Grace. Perfect Passion. Revelations.

Waiting to be heard.

Wanting to be held.

Willing to take a chance.

Hoping to be embraced.  As we are.

Find what you Love.

Seek what you Live for.

And never let go.

*

Some will laugh.

Some will scoff.

Others will flash a green eye.

But we.

We know.

A brilliant and resilient New Dawn awaits.

Those who are brave enough.

To take One Step Forward.

Closer.

Toward the Magnificent.  Glorious.  Horizon.

*

*

Special thanks to.. ambitiouspoet and melanie jean juneau for blessing me with the Always There When I Need You Award.  And ANOTHER Round of Smiles and Hugs to The Nomadic Soliloquist for a new quintet of awards.

This is a late announcement, but the joy is still overflowing :~)

*

I can only think of one other person to extend this prize to.. tornadoday ..A wonderful and talented poetess.  Thank you, Dear Bobbi.  Your words truly inspire me.

*

iamlenise

The hardest race I have ever entered is trying to outrun myself.  Time and again, it proves to be an impossible path. ~iamlenise

Happy Summer!

By Yun Shouping (1633–1690) via Wikimedia Commons

Hey All..It’s time for me to take a quick hiatus..Many thanks to all of you who visit and drop me cute notes that I absolutely adore!  I will still be visiting and signing smiley faces, just not releasing anything new for a little bit..Wishing you a bright, safe, fun-filled, sweet..and romantic..opening to the Summer Season..Three cheers for writers..we make the world spin upside down and do awesome back-flips too :~)

PS..If anyone can tell me what this Chinese poem says..I will love you always!!

Blessings and best wishes ~lenise~

Seven lines of sorrow

I don’t understand why I can’t let go

I don’t understand why I continually lay this trap for myself

..To be loved..is all I have ever wanted..yet heartache and misery are what I find..

Why must I give my love to those who cannot spare me more than a fleeting moment..

..And those who love me unconditionally..I use to my own ends..

What is this great romance..that makes us weep with joy..and cry out in agony

…What is this mystery we call…love…

the pattern

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

There is in all things a pattern that is part of our universe.  It has symmetry, elegance, and grace – those qualities you find always in that which the true artist captures.  You can find it in the turning of the seasons, in the way sand trails along a ridge, in the branch clusters of the creosote bush or the pattern of its leaves.  We try to copy these patterns in our lives and our society, seeking the rhythms, the dances, the forms that comfort.  Yet, it is possible to see peril in the finding of ultimate perfection… from Frank Herbert’s Dune

all around me

the wind whispers

promises my ears

are yet to hear

the sun reveals

glory my eyes

yearn to behold

the breeze quenches

thirst i never knew

consumed me

the morning song

swoons a sunken heart

with consoling melodies

a flicker..a tremble..a pulse..a beat..

..i..am..alive..

.

.

.

iamlenise

The Turning of the Key

Recently, a very nice fellow blogger extended to me the honor of receiving a bundle of awards..And along with those awards came a list of ten questions..very intriguing questions that seemed to be aimed right at my heart and mind..

As I read each one, I felt a sort of stirring in my soul..A kind of subtle euphoria..I had found another set of keys..

Who am I?  The ever elusive question that I continually ponder, for it seems I am never the same person for more than a single moment at a time..

Like the wind, I wander and shift with the turn of the earth, rise and fall then rise again with all the changes..upheavals and spirals..towering mountains and refreshing streams..of life..of a day..of an instant..

Yet..I seek a wholeness..a certain peace that can only come from discovering the truth behind the reason of my existence..the purpose of being here and now..inhaling memories of a forgotten romance..exhaling dreams of tender caresses and sweet kisses..

The keys to solving the mystery of..I am..are scattered, but every new and unexpected experience seems to pull me ever closer toward encountering..embracing..becoming enraptured by..what awaits beyond the opening of the door..

..Alas, since I am such a quiet, slightly awkward girl..I am always reluctant to share too much of myself..This time, however, I felt the urge to reveal another layer of *me* ..at the very least..bits of who I think I am..who I would like to be..

..If it is your wish to do so..my answers are here..

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Remember the garden

REMEMBER THE GARDEN

of delights. of temptations.

of cosmic forces. of terrestrial limitations.

of infinite answers. of ceaseless questions. 

of living waters. of draining pools.

of heralds. of light-bearers.

of divinity. of agony.

of rise. of fall.

for you. for me.

the garden remembers

Uendelig_infinity_wikicommons

The moment when I realize writing makes me happier than anything else in the world..even chocolate ~lenise

Strange Waters

Strange Waters
Rainy Season in the Tropics. Frederic Edwin Church.

“‘Water.” So much meaning in a simple sound… ‘Survival is the ability to swim in strange water….we must find the currents and patterns in these strange waters…if we are to survive.’”  from Frank Herbert’s Dune

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