Depression

 Alligator in swamp, by Linda MacPhee-Cobb.jpg

You wake to find yourself floating face down in a pool of dark water, surrounded by hungry alligators.

Alligators, feeding off your water logged body for years, slowly chomping you to bits. As you begin to blink your eyes wearily, your semi-conscious mind jolts into a spastic birth of panic. The frozen block of fear begins to crack, chip and slide off from your soul.

Quietly…gently, a motion is willed thru your splayed fingers gliding you to safety.

The shore draws nearer. From out the corner of your eye a shadow streams by your floating torso.  A desperate hungry alligator charges at your legs, clamping its mighty jaw unto the cuff of your jeans. Its jaw locked on tight, the alligator violently jerks its massive head, and oversized reptilian form to and fro aggressively driving you back down into the murky waters.

You're swimming for your life, summoning energy from the bowels of your soul; eyes on the shore.

A voice screams from inside your head:

"Don't look back, don't look the alligator in the eyes, it feeds on your fear and attention!

It’s time to starve out the life ravaging beast! Swim!...Swim!…Swim!

The King of Everything

The King of Everything trots his way thru the neighborhood, stopping at random to smell the corners of alcoves, bushes and patches of grass; chest puff up high.

The King of Everything eyes the passing strangers, a low growl rumbling in his chest; each passerby a potential invasion to his personal space.

The King of Everything flexes on his haunches, ready to pounce the passing peasants, tethered to leashes made of various materials; lead by the neck, as slaves are so often cruelly lead.

The King of Everything observes the bright green ball resting, in the center of the tennis court.The King of Everything burst at lighting speed, eager to capture his felt prey.

The King of Everything has lain the law, all is in its place, all is well in the kingdom.

Red Winter Coat (Kelly)

It's warm out this morning, the dew point is climbing up; a light rain will come down at any moment.

Your lights on, I assume you hadn't step outside to walk your dog yet; it's so early.

I walked my dogs, on our usual morning route. My head looking up at the fading moon, mentally confirming positive hopes for my day. The eerie howl of the coyote startled me, afraid to go any further in the dark, I could almost see him, sitting in the middle of the lush green grass of hole number 9. Time to head back home.

Startled again, I had not, expected to see you, your red coat and your sad brown Shepard. Pausing at the street corner to look at me, looking at you. Swelled with the comfort of your presence, I whispered, under-breath "Good morning, I love you".

Aspie

Yours is an unparalleled beauty

imprisoned by a muted voice

and avoiding eyes

The Large White Rat

Rats have always produced an intense amount of fear in me. Growing up in New York City, I would see rats the size of cats and dogs, crawling thru trash bins and scurrying through grey dark alley ways.

I was about six years old, my parents and I walked home from late at night dinner party held at my Grandmothers, Park Avenue apartment. My parents, walked several feet ahead of me, I straggled behind walking slowly, mindfully distracted, with my eyes to the ground. I heard a rustling sound coming from a chain linked bush, surrounded by overgrown grass, to my left on the sidewalk. I paused in my step; curiosity clasped my youthful attention, I focused my eyes on the bush…and waited. The pulse of my tiny heart beat increased in tempo, adrenaline chilling my veins. The rustling of bush leaves becoming more urgent. I saw it. The parting of this organic green matter; something was coming…frozen with fear, excited by the unknown, I continued to watch the bush. A startled rat barrels out of the bush, careening recklessly toward a pile of garbage bags stationed directly to my left. Before reaching the pile of trash, the rat, blinded by surprise, t-boned at full speed, straight into my ankle bone.  After a quick recovery, from what I would assume was shock, the rat hopped hastily over my feet and dove, head first into the safety of street litter.

 Blanketed by my own fear and shock, I yelled at the top of my lungs for my father. Quickly my father lifted me up into his arms, scanning around for the cause of my terror. “Daddy, a rat bit my foot!” I yelled thru a streaming flush of tears and draining nasal mucous. My dad peeled off my shoe with frantic haste searching for a wound; an undisguised, gracious sigh of relief beamed from his eyes at finding no such wound, on his child.

In my six year old mind, I was infected with disease and bleeding profusely from a gaping hole in my foot. I thought I was dying, mauled a by hairy New York City street demon.  

I've been afraid of rats for as long as I could remember. These days I live in the Southwest, so I don’t see them as often; thankfully! Last night, I dreamed of a large white rat the size of a dog, two enormous clean white teeth protruding from its mouth. In my dream, I felt compassion and love for a toothy, snow white Muroid. My dreams are very lucid, there had been no doubt in my mind, what I was witnessing in my dream, had not been real. I was safe in this dream world, with my large white rat. A rat which I lovingly beckoned toward me; to feed it treats, to bestow it with some reassurance. The large white rat from my dream hopped and pranced around me like a puppy out to play. A slight sliver of fear coursed thru my veins each time, my hand inched nearer those large rodent incisors. Still, I lifted my hands to feed the rat and pet its head.

 What does this dream mean to me?

I think it means, I've conquered a hidden fear from deep inside my psyche, but the caution is still ingrained in my mind.

Move past the fear, yet exercise caution around the sharp protruding teeth, and find another way around the dangers.

I know your name

I see you everywhere.
I think of you all the time.
I dream of you, while I sleep.

I see you everywhere.

You walk with your Shepard, your eyes cast down at the ground, failed invisibility.

I still see you.

The Sun burns brighter, even at midnight, when you glide along the paved path to pass me, in the courtyard.
My heart is smiling…can a heart smile? Apparently yes, a heart can smile.

I’m afraid of you, afraid you will shout in anger at me, for witnessing your beauty, desiring your companionship.  There is a strong, relentless magnetic pull, hailing deep from within my life force, warbling a song at light speed to reach you.

You’re a secret; the Universe has kept patiently hidden from me. A buried treasure locked deep in the open wilderness of the Universe. I have a key, I’m awaiting the courage to turn, free the lock and unravel your mysteries. I know your name and you know mine. 

My afternoon fix

I pulled in through the back alley, parking my truck near the dumpster. I licked my lips in anticipation. What will I get this afternoon? I walked around the side of the small building structure, following the gold sticker arrows, pointing to the entrance. The air suddenly filled with the strong aromas of coffee, spices, and sweet chocolaty tobacco. 

Looking down at my watch, I could see I only had twenty minutes, to shop around and pick out something new. I enter the cigar shop, and was greeted by an attractive man in his 40's, salt and pepper haired slicked with pomade, combed neatly to the side. He smiled, his warm dark eyes somewhat taken aback; I would assume, by a self-assured middle aged female in his cigar shop. I returned the smile with a gleam in my eyes and a question on my lips "Are you the proprietor?"  He paused for a moment; looked down at the ground concentration pressing his brow, before responding. “Yes, I'm, what can I get you today?" 

"I'm looking for NUB". 

The proprietor chuckled and said "I should let you know, NUB I doesn't work here". I laughed uproariously; as I do with most clever retorts delivered to me. "Is this cigar for you?" he asked.  Confidently I responded "Yes, I've been an unapologetic cigar smoker since the age of 18". 

He subconsciously clasped his hands in glee. "Well then welcome to my shop!" 

The proprietor shared with me the many potential ways, my patronage to his shop could benefit me and my cigar passion. I made my selection at his suggestion, shook his hand after introductions were made, and waved goodbye as I headed to the exit. I stepped out into the sunshine with a sealed tin canister containing my NUB Habenero

; anticipating the evening Sunset, when I will light my treat and melt my cares away.