Author Archives: Mariana Allsop

The New Lost World

Sometimes it’s hard to walk forward.

All it takes is for one storm to transform our paved road into a dense jungle.

Surroundings nurture man and woman alike, with dismal desires in a Jurassic dystopia.

A place where brachiosaurus evolved into projects-for-us and they will never go extinct because  they have an unlimited supply of souls to eat.  

Necks made of bricks towering high in the sky- 

With hundreds of eyes on each side 

Look up – see the trapped children on tippy- toes looking outside.

Wave hi.

Innocent smiles behind bars- 

At night you can see their little hands reaching out trying to catch stars that seem so close-

Yet we know they are so far. 

We are surrounded by all these mysterious creatures.

Some have miles of tentacles constructed of men in corporate suits who lash out and destroy the stable bridges we tried to create for our youth. 

They build glass ceilings that are damn near impenetrable.  

They think we are primitive and laugh as they hand us a rock and a chisel.  

Tyrannosaurus Rex evolved into tyrants who owned farms of men, women and children-that were used as cattle – branded with poverty and only allowed to graze on a few grains of rice daily, purposely starved for pleasure, purposely worked to death, mazes of mass graves and history repeats itself over- 

And over 

And over

And over 

From Cambodia’s killing fields, the Holocaust, Rwanda, indigenous Natives systematically slaughtered throughout the Caribbean even in the sunny state of California-

Oh this great American nation-  a place where people are allowed to fly flags of treason so proudly- where the branches of trees are forever bent from the weight of hanging bodies- the list is infinite because it is still going on. 

Chernobyl’s radioactivity combined with China’s pollution has nothing on the levels of hate within the earth’s atmosphere today- surely it is the hate that will end us all.

I want to laugh when they say dinosaurs are extinct.

I say No- They just evolved and lost their feathers and beaks.

Now they have skin, just like you and me. 

Predators of man in plain sight-plotting their next siege.

Long Time No See

The ink in my pen ran out a long time ago. 

Now I transcribe each noun, adjective and verb with my own blood.

The paper soaks up my pain and transforms it into riddles of similes and metaphors-

A confusion of emotions. 

Confusion is what creates chaos, and you need chaos to invoke a revolution- and revolution is the never ending fight for the survival of our identity. 

Sometimes I am afraid to write, because when my creative ports open,  the unstoppable flood gates spills truths that drown others and I become an accessory to murder. 

Turbulent waves- rip tides of secrets and painful memories seep into the fibers of lined paper and feed hidden seeds that sprout the language of the soul- a poem.

I stopped writing for a long time because when I do- I can feel my poorly healed scars start to dehisce and the pain taunts me as it bangs against the bars of my caged heart and the fallen angel that lives within me starts screaming to speak. 

Mute. 

Mute. 

Mute. 

You can only press the button but so many times before it breaks and your only choice is to listen and turn the volume up. 

What is your soul saying? 

I used to wear my heart on my sleeve but it kept getting impaled by flying debris from the tornados of fate-

But still I moved forward-

And when the barbed wire from the fences of life kept nicking my skin-

I still fought to progress-

and I had to jump so damn high to surmount the hurdles of trials and tribulations, hurdles which at times bruised my shins- over and over again 

-but I still staggered on. 

Wading through various cesspools of shitty circumstances, trying to stop and smell the roses proved to be challenging- yet still possible.

People just don’t understand that when home becomes hell the streets become heaven. 

I’m sure that I’ve shared a drink and ate dinner with the devil many times.

I gambled it all away to the point where the only thing I had left was half a mustard seed in my back left pocket.     

And in a swamp of decay- I was able to use it to grow faith.

And from that small patch of faith I was able to replant hope. 

I had to stand tall and blow away the clouds of shame that hung over me in order to let the sun break through. 

And man did my forest bloom.

My brain sprouted vines and carried me back to civilization where I continue to strive. 

I allowed my face to be smothered with a pillow held by childhood trauma for way too long. 

And you know what- it feels good to hear my voice again.

It feels good to be back.

Hello, It’s been a while.

The Truth About the Road Less Traveled

Darkness is my light.
Moonlight brightens my unpaved path.
It guides me gently.
Tenderly.
It whispers for me to walk slowly.
Take it all in.
Nothing is more peaceful than walks under a starlit sky down the road that isn’t traveled.
A road forgotten.
A road hidden.
A road that awakens under the spell of the silent alarm of the sunset –
and sleeps on the command of the sunrise.
This road leads me closer to finding me.
I have said it before.
I walk alone, my footsteps are my own.
As the rest of the world slumbers, my dark forest blooms.
Precious, mystical night flowers.
The fragrance of sweet memories fills the air from their open petals.
The aroma reaches its arms out and as I inhale it reaches down, deep down and hugs my soul-
It warms my heart, over and over again.
At times it leaves me breathless and I have to remember how to breathe- this dark forest is dangerously captivating.
It is necessary.
Everyone needs this vital terrain.
A place where your imagination swirls around you like fireflies in the summer night.
A place where you can tell your secrets to the stars and they hide them for you in the universe.
A place where tears grow forests of weeping willows with hanging vines of glowing emeralds.
Bittersweet beauty that reminds you that the seeds of pain can still grow something worth admiring.
A place where it rains diamond dust and the sounds of thunder are made by the souls of those we lost- in the years past- playing harps and violins to soothe you.
These roads dissect through endless fields of onyx-velvet black roses which are soft like satin, yet have thorns made of razor-sharp gold.
I slowly run the palm of my hand over them and each petal caresses my fingers.
Temptation.
Temptation.
Temptation.
Under the veil of the darkness, I see things so much more clearly.
I have so much to discover here, so I must continue my journey and you must continue yours.
If our paths cross, we can sit at the edge of the waterfall and count the rainbows scattered across the night sky and share our stories under the moonlight.

Black and White

Beauty is black and white.
Simple.
Soft.
Highlights of delicate shades of gray as she ages with grace.
Poised in elegance.
Wrinkles in silk that are still soft to the touch.
I dare you to touch.
Captivating, sinisterly seductive innocence.
Rare treasure hiding in plain sight.
A magnet for a smile that draws you in.
If only you knew the depth of her mind.
The fantasies and magic realms she dreams of.
The warmth of her unconditional love for life and the purity of her heart.
She is a light within a light.
Beauty is black and white.

Finders Keepers

I think I finally recovered all the particles of me.
I had to search all over.
It was the most exhausting quest, but worth it.
I didn’t do it alone.
His love for me shined the brightest light along the darkest paths.
His strength pulled me out of quicksand multiple times.
He sheltered me from the violent storms that ensued.
He helped put me back together, one fragile piece at a time.
You see,I was the chipped porcelain doll in the window that no one wanted.
I was imperfect in so many ways, but all he saw was beauty.
So,I write this to say thank you.
I write this to say sorry for the pain I caused.
I write this to say I love you.

Daydreaming

Sometimes I drift off into outer space.
I float slowly with my eyes closed, my arms and hands spread out at my sides.
I feel the changes of the earth’s atmosphere as it bathes my exposed skin.
I ascend.
I ascend.
I ascend.
Suspended in magic.
Weightless.
I only open my eyes when I no longer feel the wind.
I open my eyes and I look forward to seeing you at my side.
These travels are for us.
The world stands still, but our universe is infinite.
The most beautiful chaos.
Constant collisions of emotions, love, fears, truth.
They explode and generate endless stars and galaxies for us to explore.
Five words I whisper to you.
One day at a time.

Give it Back

I’ve been yelling at the clock all day.
Yelling at the top of my lungs.
Stop!
Stop!
Your evil hands dictating our lives as they pass.
You point out – down to the very second- that our youth slips away from us.
You remind me that I grow old.
You remind me that time is of essence.
You give me anxiety.
Time.
No time.
Wasted time.
Lost time.
Forgotten time.
Beautiful time.
You just continue through war, famine, feast.
You just march on through celebrations, birth and death.
You remind the seasons to come and go.
Tell me, why do you torture us so?
I am begging you to slow down.
I just want to sleep in his arms for two eternities.
I just want to hear his heart beating for three eternities.
I want to hear my kids footsteps, laughter and feel their hugs for four eternities.
Time, do you hear me?
You just look me in my face and ignore me.
You just keep moving ahead without any regard.
We are powerless.
Time, you are cruel.

Jungle of Man

Processing.
Processing.
The wait can be so painful.
Uncomfortable silence consumes the moment.
It’s too late to recant your words or undo your actions.
You put them in the universe and now they hang like vines in a jungle.
Easy, accessible reminders of things never to be forgotten.
Vines that block the path to forgiveness.
Vines so thick they can’t be cut down.
So we wait and hope the treacherous jungle that was made burns down and spawns an oasis of understanding, love and commitment.
Processing.
Processing.
Processing.

Speechless

A word can’t describe it.
I don’t think a word actually exists.
I know that I exist because of you.
I’ve never felt alive until now.
Until I met you.
Loving you is effortless.
Loving you is so easy.
This connection is beyond this realm.
Some type of sci-fi, cosmic love story.
Definitely not ordinary.
Eternal.
We probably loved each other in past lives.
Souls searching across black holes through time,
refusing to stay apart.
I need you.