Sunday, September 28, 2014

We held each other...

We held each other last night.

I came out to support you and watch you on stage.

My family came along to meet you.

After the show you saw me and took me in.

We held each other.

You smelled of laundry soap and the day’s work.

You were in a white button down and grey pants.

You smiled at me the way only you can.

Our eyes going even deeper into one another’s.

We held each other.

Everyone loved you.

Everyone could see the way you love me.

Everyone could see the way I love you.

We held each other last night.

You wrapped your arms around me tighter.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in your neck.

You stroked my hair and kissed my neck.

Your hands holding my back firmly and passionately.

Each of your fingers pressing warmly into my skin.

My hand played with your hair.

We held each other.

You told me that you were so glad I was there.

That you had missed me and love me.

I told you how much I love you.

You kissed me.

The world disappeared.

And it was just us.

Alone as one.

Holding each other.


© 2014 Kara Nelson

In my dreams...

You were in my dream last night. 

Smiling that familiar smile.

Looking deeply into my eyes again like before.

Like lives before.

Like hearts before.

You were on the landing below me looking up.

In a soft blue button down, black pants and coat.

Your hair disheveled and greying.

Ignoring the man talking to you to look at me while I ascended the stairs and turned to look back at you.

My friend saw the way you were looking at me and asked who you were.

I told her you were my heart and my one.

She said I was very lucky that she could see the way you love me.

Everything else was a blur.

It was just you, your eyes, your smile, your heart and mine together.

My heart, mind, soul, eyes, and love miss you every day.

© 2014 Kara Nelson

Friday, July 18, 2014

Hollow...

What does one do when they are faced with the news that one of their greatest life goals will never come to fruition? When one of the greatest natural gifts given to living beings, plants, animals, etc, is not one which you possess? Decision time. Surgery sooner or later. But the decision has to be made quickly. Either take the chance and try to have a kid, now, with no one in particular, since there is no one to have a child with you. Which in that situation you have about a 5% chance of ever actually getting pregnant. Or, bite the bullet and have the surgery, since the illness inside you is making you bleed internally at such a rate that the rest of your body is too ill to function at a normal pace. Basically, what does one do when they've dreamed of having children their entire life and then are told that they will never have that pleasure, gift, ability, blessing, honour, ?

For me, I must dedicate myself even deeper to my career goals, talent, writing, and dreams in that arena. Now what I need, more than ever, is someone to reach out, accept my hand, and help me get even a toe headed in the right direction.

Fuck it.

Life.

You may ask why I share something so personal with strangers. The simple answer is, I need to get it out. I need to talk. I need to figure things out. I don't expect any response. I just need to express what I'm feeling.

Fuck. I truly have nothing to say.

I have lost the creative edge currently.

I will leave you with the brilliant words, written by Ben Elton, for his film 'Maybe Baby.' Incredibly accurate, heart-wrenching, and true:

“Every young mother that I see is a simultaneous moment of exaltation and despair. I don’t know why it is that women feel such deep need to create life from within themselves. Why they yearn for a time when their own flesh will bring them comfort, but I know that they do. That’s an experience that most women, women with children, miss out on in life; the intensely female grief which accompanies the fear that those children might never exist. “

Saturday, June 21, 2014

The smile...

Sometimes, late at night, early in the morning, when no one is looking...

I feel down.

I feel lost.

I feel alone.

Regardless of my surroundings.

I feel unloved and ugly.

And in those moments I think of you.

I think of the way you smiled at me.

The way our eyes melted into each other's.

I think of the way you messed with your hair and laughed nervously.

I think of your eyes.

I think of the way you made me feel beautiful.

Even for just a moment.

I knew I was beautiful in your eyes.

And that knowledge rocked my soul.

It keeps me passionate.

It keeps me hopeful.

It makes me feel desirable.

For that moment, for that hour, we were one.

Just through our eyes, laughter, speech, and smiles.

That hour is one of the greatest of my life.

That hour showed me that someone else could see who I truly am.

That hour showed me that I could be strong.

Your eyes, pupils dilating as you stared deeply into mine.

You eyes, like deep water covering a burning warmth beneath.

Your smile showed me that you knew me.

Your smile showed me that you, like me, were nervous about how well we automatically knew one another.

Your eyes showed me that I am beautiful.

That moment keeps my heart and hope alive.

So, thank you.

For touching my life.

My heart.

My soul.

So deeply that you have made a mark on my love.

So deeply that you restored my faith and hope in love.

So deeply that when I see you, you are love.

So deeply that you, in that moment, showed me that I could have love in my life.

That I deserve love.

That I can find love.

© 2014 Kara Nelson

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Billy Joel...

Every time I listen to Billy Joel my heart swells and I get filled with an all-over warmth. His music does something to me that no other musician's work does. It's like coming home, a warm blanket, a hug from a loved one, and a kiss from a puppy all rolled into one.

No other musician has inspired me more or had more of an affect on my life. I sometimes forget what his music means to me and then I listen to it again and am filled with longing and love. For those wondering...if there's anyone wondering.  My very first favorite song of his was 'Leningrad' (take into account that Storm Front came out when I was 7). That was the first song of his that had me totally floored (when I was around 10). I sat in my bedroom listening to that song and the tears would not stop falling. That was just the first of many of his songs that have made me do this. I then took it upon myself to listen to everything he ever recorded.

I remember the first time I heard 'Prelude/Angry Young Man', the musicality, structuring, nuances, etc of the
song made me cry and laugh, and made my life feel meaningful. Like I was put here for a purpose and it was to make music.

I know I wouldn't be where I am now musically, talent and drive wise, if it weren't for him. I truly owe this man so much. He got me through adolescence, depression, dark thoughts and considerations. He kept me going. His music has saved my life in many ways.

Music saved my life and continues to do so.

If anyone is curious, my top 5 favorite songs of his are 'Summer, Highland Falls', 'Laura', 'Vienna', 'Movin Out', and 'Leningrad'. My favorite albums are Streetlife Serenade, The Nylon Curtain, and Turnstiles.

© 2014 Kara Nelson

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Literary rant...

I was walking through a bookstore yesterday and spotted out of my peripheral the CliffsNotes for Of Mice and Men.   This upset me.  Granted, I don’t think anyone should be allowed to use CliffsNotes or other aids as such unless they have already read the book on which the Notes have been written.  But, come on, an abbreviated version of Of Mice and Men?  How insulting!  First of all, it’s one of the most brilliant pieces of American literature and, secondly, to read this book is to expose your mind and heart to questions you’d rather not ask.  Plus, a summary of a book that is only 112 pages, really?  How lazy are kids these days?

I don’t remember how old I was the first time I read Of Mice and Men.  I know it was before I was ever asked to read it for school.  I got on a Steinbeck kick at an early age and when I came to that book I fell in love.  I used to carry a copy of it around in my back pocket and any spare moment I had I would spend reading, rereading, studying and being mesmerized by its contents.  I took my time, I read it through the first time, crying with George, laughing with Lennie.  Then I reread it, taking in all the nuances and asking myself what I would’ve done if put in George’s position.  Then I continued to read it, over and over, enjoying the prose every time as if it were my primordial reading.  

I understand that some people need extra help deciphering what the author may have been trying to say.  However, if this means totally disregarding the writer’s true words and reading purely a summary of an otherwise enlightening and moving text then I don’t believe such cheating should be allowed.  It’s not necessarily cheating when it comes to an educational establishment’s rules, but it surely is cheating oneself out of a greater knowledge of literature, the world and what has made each culture what it is today.
Apart from Of Mice and Men,  three other books had such an impact on me while growing up.  Dickens’ - A Tale of Two Cities,  Golding’s - Lord of the Flies,  and Shakespeare’s - Richard III. 

When asked to read A Tale of Two Cities in my 6th grade English class I was thoroughly excited.  I was already a Dickens fan, having read Great Expectations, and A Christmas Carol, after reading A Tale of Two Cities I fell in love with Dickens.  I read everything by him I could get my hands on.  When I find an author I enjoy I want to read everything they have written.  I am the same with actors.  When I find an actor of whom I admire, I want to see their entire filmography to see their progression throughout their career. 

A Tale of Two Cities failed to grab the attention and interest of my fellow 6th graders.  There were around 3 of us in the grade that actually enjoyed the book and didn’t end up trying to find the CliffsNotes or some sort of summary of the book in the encyclopedia (as the Internet wasn’t a popular or readily available device…remember those days?  When research papers actually took research and not just typing a subject into Google?  A topic for another day.)

I’m getting off track here…then again I don’t know for sure which track I was on to begin with.  I just wanted to say this:  Please, if you’re a parent, a teacher, an older sibling, a friend, anyone who has any say in what someone reads or has some sort of influence in someone’s life please put a book in their hands.  Find out what they’re interested in, and go from there.  And go back, go back into literature.  Mix it up.  Have them read newer stuff that catches their attention and then have them read something from the Greats that has a similar central theme.  We, as a whole, cannot let libraries, books, reading, writing, the smell and feel of a REAL book…not an electronic copy…although they are convenient…become just a thing of the past.  

Reading is so much fun.  It was a gift and a huge reward growing up when I could cash in my allowance for a new book (an addition to my Roald Dahl collection most likely).  It was a thrill, opening to the first page of a new book in the back of my parent’s car trying to see how much I could read before we made it home. 

I still adore books.  Going to the library is a twice a week trip for me, and a gift card to a bookstore, or a brand new book, is the best gift ever given.  Thank you to those out there who spend their lives writing.  You each are a leaf on the great literary tree that is life.

© 2013 Kara Nelson

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Loneliness.

Loneliness is a cruel mistress which steals your smiles, while holding your heart hostage.
Self-punishment is a game that must be played alone, whether surrounded by others or solo.
Regret is a continuous battle best fought in the rain.
Depression is a gift given by a romantic sociopath.
Pain is not something you learn from, it's something that continues to remove.
Emptiness is bottomless when you're trying to fill the space alone.

© 2014 Kara Nelson

About Me

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Musician, writer, humorist, lover of language and puzzles, scholar, incessant searcher for knowledge, improv performer.