You were raw and naked in your wandering light

I opened my palms toward your retreating back

a loose canvas upon which I could paint my own strokes

You touched me as caressing wind gently touches daffodils

I inhaled your presence into my essence, tasting you

yearning to tender you a cup of passionate soul

to offer you my world of fresh juicy peaches dripping

needing to stroke your sinewy hands in my sleep

I sighed in my solitude watching your ghost

in my rays of light retreating in the misty distance

your image frozen icicles in winter of my memories

I hung on, gripping the fleeting image of a stranger

whose fragrance crept stealthily into my life for only

                   A MOMENT IN TIME

I spotted her in aisle three

Trying not to stare, I walk on

But images of her jagged bones

Are all anyone can see.

She leans over to look at dessert

Her tailbone pokes out so high

It took me a second to realize

Just what it is.

Everyone's heads turn as she moves

I wonder what her life was like

To cause her so much self torture

Her mind is consumed

With numbers of food

Calories and quantities

That she won't even eat.

Wishing I could give her a hug

Help her somehow

Maybe she's still in denial

Maybe she's ready for help

A walking skeleton

So close to death

Fighting for youth and beauty,

She looks 50 not 20 years old

I hope she's okay

I hope she can beat this

Her invisible demons

Are now seen by all.

Beautiful mother,

You're sitting alone with eyes straight ahead

Facing your judgement

Decided by the man in front of you

Brought down by the man to your left

While the people at your back

Look on with ferocious attention

I see your ankles crossed demurely

Your neutral, taupe slacks

The collared shirt you wear is tasteful

You hair in a bun at your nape,

Even your hair must be primly contained

You did it, sweet momma,

You're attractive, without being sexy

I see your white knuckles

I know what they mean

You're gripping that ballpoint pen

Like a life preserver

For you, maybe it is

You got the look, baby, you're on point

Only your fingernails give you away

I can see they've been chewed

Down to the quick

Your nails are cracked, peeling stubs

Allegations are thrown like confetti

Accusations thrown like grenades

The man to your left is calm and cool

And collected

He's firing missiles like he's the USS Missouri

I see you catch those missiles one by one

You're juggling like it's your job

While the man in front of you condemns

While the people behind look on

That smooth demeanor exploits

He's broken no laws, followed all the orders

He attends church every Sunday!

With quiet conviction

He presents himself safe

He presents himself trustworthy

"Concern" & "well being" are words he twists

He's read the book, he knows the right phrases

His manipulations are gross and untrue

But you stutter when you try to explain

You shake and tremble, you've been triggered

He attacks you in open court

with his most powerful weapon

with your children

And you cry and shake and quake

And lose

I see the moment your poise is snapped

The leash barely holding your emotions

pulled taut, you're trying to rein on in

I feel you, Momma, I see the tenuous hold

And the man in front of you judges on

While the man to your left keeps on firing

And the people behind you are witnesses

To the death of your soul

Look only at me, lovely Mother

The self righteous have marked you unworthy

In my eyes, there is no damnation

In my eyes, you'll find commiseration

I know how you feel

How it hurts

How it burns

How it slices & dices & kills you

Hold your head up high

Give these bitches nothing to say

When the news spreads like fire

You lost custody of your babies

It's a cruel, unfair world

Mothers are held to a higher standard

Women are held to a stricter moral code

I know all about it, Momma don't cry

Don't reinforce the claims of your crazy

Go on home now, little Momma

Curl up in a corner and lick your wounds

Cry and rage and scream and break shit

Try not to kill yourself

Even though it would be such relief

Then tomorrow,

the sunrise brings a new day

A new start, a fresh chance

Time to begin prepping

For the next battle.

You're not alone, little Momma

There's more of us than I ever dreamed

Battered by our husbands

Alienated from our children

Family court kicks us

Again and again

You're brave, Momma, you're strong

You fall down during every round

You're up to round 112

But when that bell rings,

You're coming in hot

Momma, you're coming in swinging

I see it,

I know it

I feel you,

I am you

I'm on round 209.

Today, I'm also coming out swinging.

Thank you sweet Momma

For regarding me with empathy

With compassion, with mercy

When it's my turn to be judged

When my fate is decided for me

You must've seen the way that I tremble

You're a stranger, but I know your story

You're my sister, not of blood but trauma

You're a mother,

no manipulation can ever change that

I see you Momma,

you're no longer alone

Ode to you,

Ode to me,

Ode to the man down the street.

Everyone's a stranger

And even stranger,

I am a stranger

To you,

To me,

To the broken man down the street.

How much stranger

Can a stranger be,

Than a stranger stranger than this stranger

You,

Me,

The empty, broken man down the street.

It's hard to compare a stranger

To a stranger stranger than strange,

With strangers as strange

As you,

As me,

As the sad, empty, broken man down the street. 

That's all you are

That's all I am

That's all the crippled, sad, empty, broken man down the street will ever be.

Strangers.

SRC

I lay here with eyes wide open

What words should I have spoken?

Where did the distance come from?

What was it we should have done?

I hear your sleeping breath

Wonder what caused our death

Sadly we no longer exist

Remembering when last we kissed

We used to love so madly

We needed each other badly 

Now we don't get along

We're singing a different song

I don't think we can repair

I doubt we would even dare

You're here yet I feel lonely

Swore to love each other only

I can't continue this way

I'll pack up and leave you one day

I know you don't feel the danger

To me you've become a stranger.

You are not so much a stranger,

as an impossibility.

You will never be more than,

statistical irony.

The idea-

my soulmate,

just a little bit off,

not a lot,

but enough to ensure,

we'll always be strangers,

as is appropriate.

We're both good people;

to be together...

it would nullify our character,

the reason we attract,

the reason we love-

But no,

that is not our future,

not this life.

I wonder if I was late,

if we were lived these lives before,

but I died just a few years after you,

just a few years,

enough to change a fate,

enough for our lives to go off track.

But now you are a stranger,

and I am a stranger to you.  

(We are still drawn together,

but that is where we draw the line.)

I see you just a few feet away, standing in the rain by the dreary bus stop, your face partially obscured by an umbrella.   I've seen you many times before, but I've never spoken to you.   I don't even know your name.  

There are two buses that come to this stop, and I always get on the one that leaves first.   I get on and watch as the bus pulls away from you, enchanted by the architecture of your face, the fall of your hair.   You are the ultimate mystery, hauntingly handsome, with deep grey eyes that betray just a hint of sadness as you smile at me.

My heart beats faster whenever I see you.   I have been working up the courage for months, trying to speak to you, but the words can never seem to come to me.   I wonder if you feel the same about me as I do about you.   Do you ever look for me as you walk up to the stop, to see if I'm there waiting?   Do you study my face and imagine the thoughts behind my eyes the same way I do with you?

I can see your face beneath the umbrella, set in some deep, thoughtful pose, your eyes hidden.   What are you thinking about?   With a jolt to my heart, I secretly hope that you are thinking about me.

My bus is about to come now, but I don't want to leave you like this.   We share the same stop now, but what if things don't always stay that way?   Bus routes change, people move and meet and marry.   I don't see a ring on your finger, but I don't know how long that will last.   Not with a man like you.

I've made up my mind.   I don't know what will come of what I'm about to do next, but I have to try.   I have to be with you.   As my bus pulls up to the stop, I let it sit there for a few moments, and then slowly drive on past.   Taking a deep breath, I open my umbrella and walk over to you.   Our eyes meet, and suddenly it is as if we have known one another for a thousand years.   It's electrifying, mesmerizing.   I can't look away.   You slowly reach out a hand, as if in a trance, and place it on my cheek.   I put my hand over it, holding it there.   Slowly, you fade away, your body dissolving into mist, the still solid feeling of your hand still upon my cheek.   I suddenly know your sadness, your mystery.   You have been sitting at the stop for an eternity, a lonely spirit just waiting for someone to notice you, to make you feel human again.   I wish I could have you, and I'm sad you have to go, but I don't regret what happened.   I'm just glad I could help.

Scruffily, embarrassed you approached

averted your eyes and stumbled upon speech

used to virulent comments lacking knowledge of your renaissance

defoliating all you were once lushly promised

You can tell you've been on the streets a while-

Yet display no sign of drug use, nor the reek of drink

In shame you hold up a soldier's ID

You've seen war, death, destruction-

fought for your country with endless pride...

They abandoned you in the end

another face of a plethora alike in circumstance

who's government failed you in the most horrific of ways

Lucky you have all your limbs, I've seen others in your shoes without

and others without shoes at all.

All you want is a bus ticket to your home, states away

for even that was too much to ask

In desperation you stutter, choking on pride

If I might have a bit of change to spare

I see you the old women in the street

The one nobody speaks to or chooses to greet

Pushing your life around in a metal cart

Picking up and saving the pieces as it fell apart

I see your long burnished grey hair

The red lipstick you still care to wear

I feel your pain from when you lost your love

It resonates all around and from above

At times I hear you say his name

You speak to him again and again

But nobody answers no one replies

Years have passed since you said your goodbyes

You hold on to hope and bury your scream

Try to look your best and dream your dream

----------------------------------------------

© M.Withers/M.Strudwick . All rights reserved.

Both the name The EriduSerpent/EriduSerpent

and any written material is owned solely by the above named.

Permission granted for all written material to be shared but not for profit.

Printing or publishing is prohibited without seeking permission first from said owner.

Who are you, 

Stranger in the street? 

A thousand little universes

And possibilities

Wrapped inside a secret place.

What do you

Bury deep down? 

Are there worlds

That you keep hidden

To yourself? 

Did you know

When you walk by

A symphony erupts

Inside my brain? 

Your face is morphed 

And changed

Into the hero

And the villain. 

You are marked with the stain

Of a writer's brush 

As you walk silently by, 

Oblivious to the 

Changes that have 

Taken place. 

Your life isn't scarred

By black and white

Shackles. 

You are free

In this city of granite. 

But tomorrow

You will be

But a memory.