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Tag Archives: Saffron Queen

Never Satisfied

09 Thursday Aug 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

alive, birds, life, living, rain, Saffron Queen

No rain in sight.  I keep wishing for some more rain.  We had a little a few days ago. It comes down heavy and passes quickly.  Man, I’m wishing for a long week of overcast rain. I’m the only fool who thinks that way, I mean, who the heck wants a week of rain in the summer at the beach? Killjoy, they would call me. Meh, that’s all right.  I want rain.  And a very small part of me wants a thunderstorm because the light and the boom and the southern driven rain helps me feel alive.

The Saffron Queen loved watching the tube, especially creepy, twisted horror series. She loved a good horror flick.  She said there was nothing like a scary movie to make the pulse race, a jump-scare to make you feel alive.  I never did go with her to the scary movies she wanted to see. In fact, she never did go, either with her spouse or on her own.  I loaned her one of my few scary movies that she never watched, in favor of streaming what was already on TV. I had hoped we could watch it together, but she showed no interest.

I lean on the balcony rail and study the grass the landlord is desperately trying to regrow ever since he tore up the original grass two years ago. It’s never come back to life no matter how the groundsman seeds and waters and fertilizes. The robins are fine with it because they find worms aplenty. I watch the sprinkler that sends water so far and so high that if a tenant came out their door at just the right time they would be more than sprinkled and more than unhappy at being doused, but boy they sure would feel alive.  I look down the patio and see that all the plants have been dug up and tossed aside in favor of a cement statue area the landlord wanted. I wonder if he will replant the yucca and black eyed susans that the birds loved to balance on?

It hasn’t rained and it probably won’t rain to suit me today or tomorrow or the next.  The question is, why do I need to stand outside in a downpour to feel alive?  What’s wrong with being alive is enough, why ain’t that good enough?  Yeah… I’ll get back to you on that.

Our Queen in Saffron Passes On

26 Tuesday Jun 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

death, dog, friend, gratitude, grief, life, Saffron Queen, sunset

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Voy a fingir que eres tú en una playa de Puerto Rico, aunque solo fue tomada no hace mucho, aquí mismo. Puerto Rico, tu amor. Fotografiando el atardecer. Tu perro te está molestanda. Tu nuevo viaje comienza hoy. Adiós mi amiga, nuestra Reina Azafrán.

Patience For The Queen

17 Thursday May 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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change, death, fail, family, life, love, patience, Saffron Queen, strength, Universe

The Saffron Queen is a dream of blood now. She is garnet and green veins, though she wishes they were blue, strong and heroic like Princess Diana. She is needles and nose mucous, pretty in that blouse she bought for her trip to Puerto Rico, pink lace, denim and sandals she waits for the drip to be done so she can vape her troubles away.

The Garnet Queen’s hands are talons now, gripping, grasping, seeking prey to tear apart on the rocks of her teeth. This lady is no raptor seeking meat, she wants to kill the heart of you with her cruel, crushing words. And now she curls up like a baby and weeps, begging for love, sipping from her “Kwanzaa” cup, lost in a place she did not ask to be. She drifts off and the fear and the hate and the sorrow melt away.

She is Changeling, someone replaced her in the night with someone else, there is no other explanation for why she has gone. She is lost and believes she is alone, no one cares, even though her man strokes her hair and I press dressings to stop the bleed where she pulled out the IV.  She is Changeling, wondering why her children haven’t come, hating them and laying curses on them forever.

A cold front moves in over the ocean, rising thunderheads captured in steel gray and mango moments before the rain, a dramatic photograph she took that sits on the floor of her room instead of hanging proudly on someone’s wall. I like to remember my fierce potted plant friend as photographer lady, the unfinished woman wondering why her children never call, her man working so hard to please her. May her Kwanzaa cup brim with love tomorrow, may the grace of the Universe find her man and fill him with patience and strength, and I’ll not fail to remember the dachshund pillows next time.

Crack In The Stone

23 Monday Apr 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

death, friends, life, Mary Oliver, poetry, real, Saffron Queen, stone

For me, the very best poems are the simple ones. I enjoy a simple table in a sunlit room with friends I love and foods that satisfy all my emotions. I am relaxed, at ease, a bit of sauce on my sleeve, a light touch on my thigh, a certain sadness upon parting: I will miss you all but take comfort in knowing I will see you again.  The very best poems are the simple ones.

I sat on the bed of the Saffron Queen and we exchanged many things until her daughter came in. It was awkward because I know both of them, so I went downstairs to fill my fancy water glass to give them time to talk. Suddenly there were three dogs in her room and it was more than she could manage, and suddenly it was just the two of us again. The queen spoke and I laughed and she said I was beautiful just then, my smile, something she’d never seen before.  I became self-aware, knowing why I rarely smile in her presence, guilty for that, suddenly looking for ways to be more relaxed and real on her bed where she lives now.

The very best poems are the simple ones. Life is real and death is real and friends are real and poems are real and sometimes I just can’t handle it all.

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