Sunday, November 13, 2016

Touch ‘n Go:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 14, 2003 at 1:10am

Touch ‘n Go:

.... I like the idea, and being much a loner in life...

Willing to witness but never relate
I stand at a distance
Seeking something to force me
Closer to the scene
To a vantage point from
Which only I can view.

....So happy that you want to do this. I was not so much the loner growing up but an Air Force brat that was always slightly detached from wherever I was. Seems like we can relate.

Standing behind this force,
Some invisible shell,
Like a circle of loneliness,
Each time I break through,
A stream of words escape me,
Screaming like a tree fallen in the forest,
Willy-nilly compass of the heart,
Wandering in a leaning circle of blue,
Which trail leads home?

....Moving around every couple of years as an Air Force brat (no comments from the peanut gallery, please) made it difficult to have a sense of belonging. I always felt like an outsider looking in.

Round paths with nothing inside
Just glimpses of the center and
Reaching through this ache to
Find bread crumb clues that may
Be what's needed to get to the
Soul of it all.

....I was about as close to being an Air Force brat as you can get without actually being one, and then for about three years you could argue I was. We moved constantly as kids, no real time to put down roots, always wandering, nothing resembling stability except my grandparents, and no wonder the detachment. You always lost anyone you got too close to living like that - even my grandparents died, my Grandmother when we moved away because Mom's husband was stationed elsewhere, my Grandfather when I myself entered boot camp at Lackland AFB. Everyone else just kind of...faded away.

Wandering through fields of waving grasses,
Nothing in view but their golden height,
The rustle like a million whispers,
Nothing I can really make out but I try,
The meaning of it all beats down on me like sunshine,
Hot and urgent and endless,
Bright as it is I only understand it's there,
Sometimes whispering back at the grasses,
Shocked when I hear a true and honest cry,
The birds lift up en mass,
Thundering wings alluding to my danger,
I freeze in place to catch the scent.

....Always on a different wavelength, new places, new faces, none of the local routines. Always the new kid on the block and gone by the time I got to know you, and then along comes the ol' black magic - love, and they're still dragging us away. I wonder if there's skid marks from the dug in heels?

Wade deeper discover
Pathways hidden chances
Around each corner.
Are your eyes openly
Aware of what surrounds
Secrets lost in feverish joy?

....the letters sometimes kept coming for awhile. The phone was just too much for a single parent to say ok, and then it would come, "dear John dear Jane" how we knew the fires before we found the heat and figured it was better just to turn backs on the flames, maybe read a good book and get lost between the pages.

The discoveries of the heart so fresh and new,
Like the morning dew upon the leaf,
Beautiful and shining and transient,
Or the fall bird singing on the wire,
Only to loft and fly away to warmth,
Just a taste of what could be,
Every time feet are set the Earth moved,
Or was it just my backwards dream?

© Katie Shields/Dan Stafford

By: Katie Shields/Daniel A. Stafford
Author's Comments

A combination of poetry and personal notes from two migrant children...