Jellyfish

Staring into the ocean
from the safety of my boat,
observing all the ocean life
as I comfortably float.
Wondering what's beneath the water
as the sun starts going down,
dreaming of diving in
but too scared that I might drown.
Intrigued by the jellyfish
but scared of the pain of its sting,
so I sit so quietly in my boat
writing a song to sing...

Oh to swim with the jellyfish
watching its beauty and grace,
intrigued by its wonder
but terrified of its embrace.
Knowing the jellyfish can hurt me
I keep my distance, and yet
I dream of swimming with jellyfish-
but it's much too much of a threat.

There once was a jellyfish
that effortlessly hypnotized me,
but I got too close and got stung
so I tried to set it free.
It left behind the painful scar
that I still feel to this day-
I tried so hard to let it go
but couldn't seem to get away.
I was terrified of its power,
the pain of its sting was strong.
I had to let the jellyfish go-
so I now I sing this song...

Oh to swim with the jellyfish
watching its beauty and grace,
intrigued by its wonder
but terrified of its embrace.
Knowing the jellyfish can hurt me
I keep my distance, and yet
I dream of swimming with jellyfish-
but it's much too much of a threat.

An Old Letter

An Old Letter
© Meesa Caudill


You could see the anguish in the handwriting,
shaking hands with each stroke of the pen.
You didn't have to look into his eyes
to see the pain he was in.
His despair is there on paper,
ink smudged from drops of tears
from the eyes the light disappeared from,
his soul weary for all those years.
I could tell from the letter he was exhausted,
so tired of putting up a fight.
All he needed was a glimmer of hope-
to have some faith, see the light.
I was the one he trusted to read it,
years before his light went out.
To read of his struggles and stresses,
to know his unselfishness without a doubt.
In some of the lines I see anger
and bitterness from a life unplanned.
Regret ate at his soul from the inside out-
he felt as if he were less of a man.
Even after reading it I tried to tell him
what a hero he was in my mind.
To him, he was a failure.
Misery the only thing he could find.
I blamed myself for taking away his youth-
my existence stole his dreams, his light.
I know his absence isn't my fault
because I had become his life.
His letter was written in darkness,
a man wanting so badly to be free.
But I know to this day he loved me so
because of the letter daddy wrote to me.

Seeing In the Dark

Here's another brainstorm from a phrase that Jason Sheffield had given me a few months back when I asked for writing ideas.The phrases to start with were:

The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark

(Just to make sure no one gets confused- this is not a current life experience. Just a writing bug! lol!)

Soooo.... here's:

Seeing In The Dark
© Meesa Caudill 


I lie awake and hear you breathing
mumbling something in your sleep-
I wonder what you're dreaming
and about the secrets that you keep.
I roll over and kiss your face
and hear you whisper a name...
it's not me you're calling out to-
and I've only got myself to blame.

All these years I've been blind,
not seeing what you need.
All these years you've given your all
and I can't give you any of me.
All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.

I was so arrogant to believe
you wouldn't find someone new.
Someone who could give their all-
give everything to you.
I underestimated your value,
didn't give you what you deserve-
and it took lying here in the dark
to see how much you're worth.

All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.

Gypsy Thoughts

My gypsy soul is getting restless-
I've been in a coma for thirty-one years.
My heart longs to get out of this town-
forget the past, the pain, the tears.
Let's follow some railroad tracks
just to see where they go.
Let's get into my car and drive non-stop
listening to the radio and the wind blow.
We don't need a suitcase
some duffle bags will have to do-
let's pack some stuff and get out of this state,
leaving behind all we've been through.
Maybe we could hop on a Greyhound bus
choosing our destination with a dart-
follow the lines drawn out on a map...
follow our dreams, and our hearts.
Let's get out of here and find ourselves
somewhere outside of this big little town-
let fate and destiny be our guide,
and stop letting our fears hold us down...
Come on, baby, run away with me-
let's make our own place in this world.
Say you'll be my gypsy man-
and run away with this gypsy girl.

Caged Bird Singing

Trapped.
Confined.
Suffocated.
Imprisoned.

Caged.


Do you ever get the urge to just run away from everything? To just sell or throw away everything you own and take off in whichever direction you choose just to see where the road goes?

I want to run away. Run away from this dead-end job. Run away from the boredom of Lexington. Run away from the norm. Run away from the things that haunt me. Run away from this life and start a new one.

I've been wracking my brain for what seems like forever- trying to figure out what is missing from my life and how to turn my life into what I want it to be. No conclusions have been come to and I'm still at a loss. I still have no idea where I want to be and what I want to be doing with my life. I'll be 31 years old in two weeks and I have nothing to show for my time on this planet. No family. No career. No adventures. I have been walking around like a zombie since I came into this world and I yearn to LIVE.

How do you do that when you're flat broke and drive a piece of shit car that you can't even depend on to take you across town? Does being poor confine us to a life of dreary days with nothing to look forward to? Whether I live the life of a gypsy for six months or not- I know one thing... I've got to do something, anything, before I lose my mind.


I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou


"The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom."

Seventeen

4 a.m., alone again, in front of this old computer screen...
playing songs that take me back to the days of seventeen.
I was young and wild- the taste of freedom exciting & new...
didn't have a care in the world... and all I wanted was you.
I gave you my heart that winter, gave you my soul that spring...
you gave me a key to keep around my neck, years later you gave me a ring.
We promised each other forever, not knowing forever just wouldn't be-
and now I sit here so many years later, ghosts of the past still haunting me.
Real love has evaded me since you, true emotion I can't seem to find.
I've been told that I'm too guarded, they tell me my wall is too high.
No one even dares to climb it, they damn sure don't try to tear it down-
I guess they know that once they cross it, your ghost is still around.

My Addiction

I know I should have never
inhaled you into my soul.
The taste of you should have never
touched my lips
or left such a tingling to linger
on my tongue.
In such a time as this
with all of the drama
in my life-
thoughts of you are
the only thing to put
a smile on my face.
If anyone found out
my little secret -
especially him-
it would drastically change
my life forever.
It could possibly destroy
everything I have worked
so hard for.
But knowing this
does not deter my feelings
about you.
Its as if you have given me
the emotional strength
to not see the negative
in what I am doing.
When I am awake
all I can do is think of you.
When I am asleep
all I can do is dream of you.
The thought of seeing you
takes my breath
and impure thoughts
start running through my mind.
Oh, to breathe you in again
and to have the taste of you
on my tongue.
You are my new addiction...
my cocaine.

Written for my son on his birthday...

Today is your 'birthday' and I''m torn apart,
I can't throw you a party with little toy cars...
don't get to see you with cake everywhere,
don't get to take you for the first trim of your hair.
I don't get to kiss you or hold your tiny hand,
I'll never get to see you grow into a man.
All I can do is visit your grave and cry,
missing you on your birthday, wanting you by my side,
wanting so badly to hold you and tell you everything's okay
cause mommy is here forever to kiss the boo-boos away.
This emptiness inside leaves an eternal, aching void.
I miss you and love you Aiden- you'll always be my little boy.