Dreams or Reality

"The slow fingers of cold creep and claw across the land, freezing everything it touches, and turning the wind to a thick, chilled mist that blurs the lines of dream and reality." - Sierra Sugar 2012

Untitled

Many times I stumble.
Nearly as often I fall.
My head stays in a muddle,
While on hands and knees I crawl.
One step after another.
Mistakes mixed with success.
And through the dark I blunder
From one day to the next.
Yet somehow I found the one
Who's strength of heart and hands,
Hold me when the day is done
And gives me hope to try again.


~sierra sugar 5/12/2014 (For Allen)

Tomorrow is another day

Each sunrise brings with it new hope and promise for the day to come. It reminds us to lift our head, breathe deep, and smile even when life around you is trying to drag you down. Let the tears of your heart water the flowers of hope and watch them bloom in the golden sun. So when that fiery ball of life peeks at you from beyond the horizon, piercing the darkness and lighting the way to what ever tomorrows bring, follow it with a smile because.... tomorrow is another day.

~sierra sugar 5/9/2014
 

Shadows - a writing assignment

     It was less that he was in the shadows, but that the shadows were drawn to him. His tall frame was obscured by the darkness that seemed to slide around him, drawing closer then circling away. Of course it wasn't real, but merely a trick to the eyes, my eyes as they continued to be drawn to him over and over again. At first glance he appeared to be aloof, a loner trying to hide in the corner. But then the light caught his eyes for the briefest of seconds and caused a chill to slowly trickle down my spine. No, he wasn't hiding, he was predator, a man consumed with the hunt silently blending just at the edge of the crowd. His nondescript clothing gave the illusion of casualness, but his wiry build could be discerned by the way the material draped along his body. Not too tight as to be restrictive, not too loose as to be a hindrance. Well made, I'd even venture to say tailor made just for him. A man of taste and modesty? No, his was a carefully crafted look of camouflage. His demeanor was discrete. His attention intense, and now that attention was turned to me. The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile, the smallest glint of white from his teeth pierced the shadows around him and my heart stopped with a loud thud. His widened smile was the last thing I saw as my feet struggled to get me far away from that place as quickly as possible.

      ~sierra sugar 4/9/14

Destiny is just around the corner

Nancy rounded the corner in a hurry and came full stop as she slammed into Destiny, who was  gazing into a store window. Agitation obvious in her voice Nancy sputtered, "Well excuse me!" Yet her tone indicated it wasn't an apology. After all Destiny was plainly standing right in the middle of the sidewalk.

Destiny smiled at Nancy, her eyes full of light. At the apex of that smile two dimples puckered her rosy cheeks. Her cheery voice chimed like a bell, "Isn't it wonderful?" She asked.

Unsure what was so wonderful Nancy flashed a half smile, side-stepped Destiny, and offered a hurried "Of course," before continuing on her way. Destiny's eyes shifted from dreamy to determined as she turned to follow Nancy. She would not be overlooked this day!

© sierra sugar 09/01/2013


A Writer's Block

Wake up and pay attention

Have any of you ever seen the movie "Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit"? I love both the Sister Act movies, not just for their musical entertainment, but for the inspiration they instill. A quote from the movie has been a big inspiration for me in pursuing my dream of being a writer. Here is the scene from the movie:

Whoopi: I know you want to sing. See. I love to sing. Nothing makes me happier. I either wanted to be a singer or the head of the Ice Capades. Hey. Do you know who the Ice Capades are? Don't roll your eyes. They were very cool.

I went to my mother who gave me this book...called "Letters To A Young Poet". Rainer Maria Rilke. He's a fabulous writer. A fellow used to write to him and say: "I want to be a writer. Please read my stuff."

And Rilke says to this guy: "Don't ask me about being a writer. lf when you wake up in the morning you can think of nothing but writing...then you're a writer."

I'm gonna say the same thing to you. If you wake up in the mornin' and you can't think of anything but singin' first...then you're supposed to be a singer.

For me, my dream is to be a writer. It's what I wake up in the morning thinking about, it's what follows me to sleep at night. That is my dream. Maybe your dream is to be a singer, or a nurse, perhaps a teacher, or maybe an artist of some other kind. If you wake up in the morning and you can't think of anything else but that dream... then that is what you are supposed to be. Time to stop dreaming. Time to wake and chase that dream. Pay attention to life and opportunities that might present themselves. MAKE your own opportunities. BE that dream that follows you every day.

If you want to be somebody, if you want to go somewhere, you better wake up and pay attention!



~sierra

Rain

Her hair, darker than the storm clouds, clung to the high angles of her cheeks, draped over her soft shoulders, and dripped down the length of her silky back.  Each thick tendril was pulled straight by the weight of the water as it sheeted off saturated glossy midnight strands; a rich contrast of onxy against pearl, both made vibrant and opalescent from the cabochon drops beading on her skin.  Tiny rivulets of moisture tickle and stream around her womanly curves, dipping and teasing and leaving raised bumps of chilled flesh in the wake.

There she sat, a vision of unadulterated loveliness.  There she sat, a woman laid bare and washed clean from the fierce downpour.  As time lingered on counted out by they frantic deluge of sky to land, a frenzied rhythm keeping time with her heart she began to tremble, but not from the frigid air puckering her delicate skin.  There she sat trembling, not from the thick, moist air charged with ozone, nor from the wind as it screamed through the tree branches and lashed at the tall grasses, but from fear of being turned away. 

And then a single word was spoken, ringing out over the cacophonous noise. Pure feeling bubbled over and poured from her eyes to drench the sand; liquid salt lost amidst the torrent saturated the grass, the trees, and the flowers filling them with emotion spilled out from within her trembling soul. 

Her bottom lip quivered, and her voice was but a mere whisper, thick with relief and overcome with joy, she repeated her name with comforting recognition, "Rain..."

(c) sierra sugar 6/16/2013

Emotional Saturation

When you feel like your entire being is saturated by the essence of another, everything they are and everything they feel overwhelms every part of you and every tiny space inside your heart.  It overflows as bittersweet salted tears wrenched from your soul upon your cheeks.  As the wind whisks the drops of sorrow from your fevered skin, it carries away the evidence of your pain and leaves a throbbing hollow unfulfilled deep inside; one that is hidden by lightless eyes and the flat mask of a smile.
     (c) ~sierra sugar 5/29/2013

3am

The train whistle shatters the silence announcing the arrival of the massive steel snake blowing through town. When the pitch and fervor die I can hear the clackity clack of the forged wheels tearing over the tracks, clawing and pulling the massive beast through the darkness. 

 3am. 

The witching hour in true. And with a whoosh of air, stillness returns to the small unsuspecting town. The stars peek out from the clouds sprinkling their sandman dust and the oblivious world resumes its slumber.  Now so must I.

(c) ~Sierra Sugar 2013

i Dance

"Dance for me." He says, the faintest trace of a crooked smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.  And so i dance, in small fluid steps, from the flats of my feet rising up to the tips of my toes.  i dance to the music in my soul that builds and races as does my love for Him.  My heart pounds out the rhythm of every thought, every desire, and drives it all... pulls me towards the one who owns my very breath.  That playful smile of His that never fails to tease me to distraction remains, yet the darkness that smolders in His eyes hints at the pleasure yet to come and a shiver tingles down my spine.  And still i dance. 

For Him i dance, unrestricted in my submission, the cool metal around my ankles setting me free to soar above any earthly bounds.  For Him i dance.  For Him i am.  For Him...


(c) 4/30/2013 ~sierra sugar~

Be Good, or Be Gone!

(thanks to Megan Massacre from Wooster Street Social Club (NY Ink).  Her tattoo was part of the inspiration for this little bit of insightful writing.)

Communication, trust, respect and transparency are all critical in any type of relationship, that is if you truly want the relationship to work. Be good to each other. Be honest. Be open. Follow the golden rule, "do unto others". Treat the ones you care about as if you would like to be treated AND how you know they need to be treated. Give to them what they need and they should hopefully in turn give to you what you need. Most of all communicate. Without communication how can there be understanding or trust.

No secrets, no lies. Be good or be gone.

~sierra sugar~

The Morning Fairie

Since it is a full moon, I decided to post one of my earlier writings and one of which I am still rather proud.

 The Morning Fairie

An angel of prophecy appeared unto me; A woman child, she possessed radiant beauty and en-capturing grace. Within her she held the knowledge of times long since passed and of time still to come. She stepped from the powerful arms of her protector - the Night - to bring forth the birth of a new day. Her garments were unbespeckled and pure. Her movement was innocently sensuous - breath-taking. Across the waters she came, gently folding back the blankets of pitch. The wind caressed her cheek gently as if to whisper, "Awaken, and let my love embrace you." The tresses of her earthen hair were perfectly tousled from sleep. Her eyes, burning bright with the life of the land and the trees, danced to the inner rhythms of her soul. A drum, beating out the hours, minutes, the very seconds until darkness would once again draw her to his chest and lull her to sleep.

In but a moment I beheld all this and had just begun to reflect on the wonder before me - Ah, but a moment is all I can bear. The sight of her now so close without the shadows to contain her beauty makes my eyes water with pain. My heart aches to be able to look full upon her once again. It is saddening to know such a beauty exists; yet, only in the few precious moments while she awakens can she be beheld.

The same breeze that caressed her cheek dried the tears from my eyes and cooled my face. Inhaling, the freshness of Morning still lingers in the air. The sounds of the world greeting her stir me from my ponderings. It is time for my rest. Sleep envelopes me and I dream of our brief encounters that fill the precious minutes connecting our two worlds. On the wind I hear her whisper, sleep sweet dear Moon.

©sierra sugar 09/1994

Beautifully Broken

Beautifully broken,
a tragical mess,
a world full of chaos
and a head that's a mess,
perfectly flawed
in every possible way,
and i smile through it all
because tomorrow is another day.

(c) sierra sugar 2013

Dreams End

The morning light filtered through the windows into the silent room. The cheerful illumination starke contrast to the shadows in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, a vain attempt to block out the screaming of protest to her heart she knelt, dropping slowly to her knees as she had so many times before, so many happy times. Her bottom rested snuggly between her heals, her toes pointed parallel to the floor, her shoulders pulled back caused a graceful arch to her back. Reverent. Respectful. Silent. Sorrowful. Hesitantly her hand traced the delicate metal around her neck as to commit the intricate pattern to memory; a needless action for the cool metal had long since burned its place into her soul. A burn much stronger than the sting behind her eyelids.

Letting her chin drop and her long curls fall to the side over her shoulder she reached behind her to unlock the clasp. The opening "click" so silent she was sure it was only her imagination that made the sound seem like the slamming of steel door. Or perhaps the slamming was the sound of her heartbeat, the irratic pulse as it rushed in her ears. She opened her eyes to try to ease the fire and focus on the floor, a small patch of carpet just before his feet.

He shifted His weight impatiently.

It was time.

Her hands began to tremble noticably as she removed the collar from her neck. Leaning forward she placed the beautiful symbolism of her love and ownership on the very spot of carpet at which she had been staring.

One tear fell, absorbed by the fabric of the plush carpet. Gone. Disappeared as if it had never existed. Just like the dissolution of her dreams. Her heart stopped. There was no pounding, no rhythm, no whooshing. There was complete silence and she had to consciously remind herself to the breathe. The pain was ripping and jagged, it tore through her chest into her very soul and she couldn't control the tears any longer. With one quick gesture she removed the ring from her left ring finger nearly dropping it from the tremor of her hands. She didn't even look at it. She didn't need to. She knew the pattern, the cut and design of the metal shaped into tiny leaves supporting a diamond flower. She'd never forget. As she set the ring in the exact center of the empty collar her shoulders began to shake and she bit down hard on her bottom lip to silence any sound that would give her away.

She never looked up at Him. She never looked at His eyes. She knew seeing the the cold empitness there now where there once was warmth and love would be more than she could bear. Keeping her chin down and eyes closed in a poor attempt to hide her tears she rose to her feet with more strength than she actually felt.

He never said a word. He never moved. He never acknowledged her actions or seemed to notice her pain.

It was time.

It was over.

Turning, she walked away from her life, her dreams, her hope. Constricted and unyeilding her throat allowed her only one word, a choked whisper, "Goodbye."

(c) 11/23/2009 sierra sugar

Still Waters

They say still waters run deep.
The surface smooth. The surface calm.
But what you don't see below is the force of those waters, swift and strong. At times a veritable maelstrom of movement below surface warmth. Pushing and pulling from within, and surrounding anyone who manages to find their way inside.

They say still waters run deep.
And there is much more than what is seen reflected back to you. But for most the surface is all they will ever see. It may not always be a peaceful place. But it is my place.

They say still waters run deep. And if you're not afraid to look, you may just find me there.

(c) 2010 sierra sugar

Sounds of Silence

If you listen to the sounds of her silence you'll hear the crash of tears as they fall. And if you look through the brightness of her smile, you'll see the shadows of sorrow in her heart.

(c) 2011 Sierra Sugar

Ribbons of dreams

A shimmering silver ribbon coated in diamond dust sparkles brilliantly in the night. One end swaying lazyily, almost rhythmic in nature as if pulled by some unseen tide. "Follow me" it whispers melodically. And i do. i follow as it gently twists and turns carrying me through the darkness on a journey of incredibly beautiful dreams of hope and happiness.

~ (c) sierra sugar 5/15/2012

Beautiful Day

The southern sun is already high in the morning sky, Pushing back the shadows helping to light the way. It's spreading warmth helps the busy workers reluctantly shrug off sleep. With a stretch and yawn, and a tickle from the radiant rays, it's easy to see the start of another beautiful day.

(c) 7/25/2012 sierra sugar

Dreams of a kiss

The strength of your arms around me. Your whiskers tickle my cheek even as your breath teases my ear. The curve of your lips, tempting, so promising, so near. And a moment's pause. A moment to think, a moment to wish. But it's a moment too long and now the moment is gone. And lost to the night air goes the dream of a kiss. 

(half asleep ramblings of a kitty mind).

 ~ (c) 8/1012012 sierra sugar

Turn Around

a little better than yesterday
but not quite as good as tomorrow
hoping to just find my way
to the other side of sorrow

smiles and laughter are waiting
i know i'll have my share
happiness for the taking
when i finally make it there

so goodbye to all the reasons
that have turned life upside down
time welcome a new season
time to turn my heart around

~ (c) sierra sugar 8/14/2012