for Iman and David (and for your beautiful mom, Maryan Baadi)

@The_Real_IMAN 

For you, Iman, with Love and Respect

Sea- blessed moistened Souls of our beloveds soar to grandeur; 

their deep repose lives in our hope; 

their Voices, soft, caress our Hearts;

the whispering Winds foretell our shared Lives

Piano

piano sits silent; gathers dust
the cats leave tracks toward heavens they have lived
My eyes rest on reflections: Daddy's face
Please play a new writ Melody for me.

Bonnet

Bonnet
 

"Oldest footage of New York City ever" *

Your genes course thru me, my dear Neen;
              I yearn for half-remembered Lives      

 ***********************************************
 
at bitter Winds, we laugh,
for so Lives live.

my corset binds
my ribs to stand
for aeons, straight;
a stalwart race -
We live for Ever.

Birth's desperate cries 
billow wide these
murals' doors to ancient,
painted Souls
You gave them eyes

I yearn to be inside their worlds 

again  ?
********************************

your Gifted eyes

paint Time's old grief;
I face me; speak your murals' walls
which billow as
my bonnet falls through centuries,
caught by a man who has yet to be born

© CherylFaith Taylor, 2016

****************************************

please check out a few of 
my favourite Artists' of varied media, 
their links beneath:

 Inspired by my SoulMate, Robin Taylor, always, for every Ever

please Click above- AMAZING PHOTOS

********************************************************************* 

 and yes, for thee, Master Hawk Alfredson, Painter Immortal; 

  thou Art an ArtForm extraordinaire 

 You give them eyes, these voices who speak to my Soul 

***********************************************************************

for Sir Arthur Phillips, Word-Magician, Bard-o'Brooklyn,
 for your kindness and for your Freeing Words

***************************************************************************

Touched by your sacred Breath, your constant Inspiration, my Neen,
perhaps from a parallel place,
but always, you are with me, and I am little again ....
suspiro
I love you
ThankYou for The Purple ..

.. Your parents risked their Live s to bring you here,
so you'd be born with greater opportunities.
I imagine, by 1912, Life looked slightly more advanced
than it does in this little Film below;

I know I knew you then, but I cannot explain *how*

 
If you'd stayed a bit longer,
I know you'd have posted a website and so much more.
Even after your stroke, at age ninety-seven,
you knew politics, Spanish, so much more...

link below tells lightly more info about a True Great Lady,
but falls short of telling how truly amazing she was.

(then please return to see the video at bottom)
 

 I love you, my Nina. Until we meet again...
"Oldest footage of New York City ever"

* Click to see Film from another LifeTime, 
 perhaps thine....  maybe mine

 © CherylFaith Taylor, 2016

excerpts from a Play-In-Progress: Nietzsche's Sister (Title, "Nietsche's Sister," ThankYou to Robin Taylor

What Universe was it where we met before, my friend?  <3 Peace.

(later:
the Night ablaze,
Words scrambled everywhere..)
**************

the Mermaid swooshed her tail,
 rolled prismatic paint stars o'er your Dreams;

savory unguent buries your body,
in sweetsour slicks; 

Deep Seas' Silence screams

 feet-nibble, Mind-wiggle;

farewell to mourning 

old passions

all passions disappear down here
in your world's deepest corners,

your thoughts' murky waters,

                                        ************************************************************

listen...

........ssshhhh.........

stop that giggling!

hey, you, over in the corner (in a stage-whisper)

 no giggling!

.......sssshhhh.....

but

on goes his chainmail

to battle

again?

will these boys never learn?
boys never learn

**********************
excerpt from:

Flash! (to another Starry NightScape)

kindling!!!??
 my beloved babies !!!
NO!!!
***********************
**********************************

a torturous sleep facsimile
finally overtakes us;
(Aahh...Who needs her anyway?)

offstage reply: "She writes your memories !"

we lie lengthwise upon an undulating cloud,
 til, of a sudden,
I see you go

up up up I see you float
as 

rose petals drift down (nearby cloud mounts' gifts?)
they tickle me, somewhere,
I can't say in which universe

*************************

In Flight

Always In Flight

***************

he mounts you in the coiled temple
BookSnake's diamond tales look on;

 wise women hid here when your home went kindling,

the Night ablaze,
Words scrambled everywhere,
scurried for cover
silently hid their nakedness within bound bodies,
Words jumped, shot,
  over and under,
Words burrowed their bodies deep 'neath foreigner's ancient forests;
Words flew to allied cover,
begged for free asylum -
all those alphabets, letters in minions,
scrawled ancient Words
sneered at another Era's Internet slanguage,
then .... buuuumph!
they embraced in mid-Air

cold Space.

Never had they Dreamed such a humiliating scene
"Bound for doom!No, no!" cried Nietsche,
"We'll be free! Follow me!" yelled Franz.
Sappho smiled sadly; she freefell,
worshipping the Night,
knowing more than I will ever know about anything,
including

 This Fire
****************************************************

read your name through centuries of dust,

through Time's collected codes, rusty coils,
Her concentrated chaos-

the Storm blew torrents of Words back to us while

we waited for them to arrest us,
awaiting the pain, the torment,
of being brought back to a silent earth

© CherylFaithTaylor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I notice you disappear as my slippery tail closes around your throat... ....

Matte Dusk

 Dusk has painted her drowsy Lights in colours muted, softly sighing, 

Sleep and Moon resume their reign; again, again, in Silent home,

but Cats' caress,
 deep choraled snores in drone...

Dreams Live then, 

Rich.

 in 

Gold profusion,

 Night's sighs paint our Theatre's warm-ed Air

we're ready -

then -

***********************

I shall listen, my Heart, my Soul and I,
to thy Music

divine

Zephry's Breath

the Olde Ones owned me,

then threw me out to Free Air -

I still don't know who caught me -

whilst I burst, spinning, to my dizzy doom-full Fall;

I'd hoped she'd be Aphrodite –

Zepher's heavy breaths

tortured

tiny purpled me;

blown, thrown,

froz'n,

tossed,

 ...tumulted...

 traumatized

                me -

     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

II

"Prithee...  ?

I seek sanctuary en la santita's flailing arms -

Thou seest  ?

a brand's a’blaze atop me maiden's fire."                                                         

                                                                 

"Undesirable Company.
Next!"

"but ...but...

Bloody sainted HoldMums bounced me !

Molten Mattress-Springers screeched !

Their sickly cackling laughter sear-ed screams

charcoaled my teeth.  " {sobs}

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

III epilogue

now

I've scattered -

I have lost me

amor, be wary ;  can't afford to lose thee

part 1, Excerpts f/Burgundy Curtains

(a fragmen, firstly penned in Autumn 2015)   to be continued...)

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

II 

Thoughts on Burgundy Curtains (notes)

Please: Open for me the heavy burgundy curtains,

those you brought overseas from England, my love;

Whilst they strangle me,

their Patchouli incense floats over me, enters me,

they cast their spells; I shall not let them destroy me -

I am protected by every vestige of love you invested in Your Theatre;

each time you touched these Curtains to determine who might visit,

I do remember - but cannot speak to you of your memories- lest I hurt thy tender Heart -

These curtains I found so stultifying in England, they hold your many memories

of Love and Chocolate, (a One, are they not?)

I close these curtains for you only for another Moment...

one more Moment matters not so much as your smile's bloom in my Heart...

Until you are ready to open them again.

I shall try my best to see them only as Curtains for Windows,

hung to hide 'gainst prying eyes' imagined nosy scenes...

but I can't help myself, my angel -

I see your Windows, daily with you;

I enter them,

as we are one, my angel;

We are one.

My ache for your pain has me wakeful more than any Actor, or Poet,

more bruised am I with each injustice you feel...

These aromatic stultifying, cat-haired curtains
speak of our precious love, my SoulMate -

forget thee not that I shall never let you fall,

whilst around us, our shared Universe struggles to breathe;

unceasing battles may ensue in pools of darkness,

but our love breeds only Good and Light

in this world we prepare for our child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 I am Rich in Love and Joy.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 (distracting, connected interruption notes ? see you later)

I neither Sleep nor eat

Then again, what can be sweeter for me these Days than 

Insomniac Nihts due to being a-Mused?

If I be  a slave to Words and I am driven to inscribe

my Dreams on paper, so it be -

perhaps I'll be a happier Mommy, a better Wife,

if I can Write and Sleep by Day...

....I've heard a person can perish from being wakeful Night 'pon Night.

I do not want to leave -

I'll cling to this LifeTime with every Breath of my tiniest cellular prisms,

despite these Lights which live for me by Night,
 whilst my babies sleep in blissfull peace