Tag Archives: Corsmor

My husband

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It’s 5:32am & my little boy is stirring from a night of quiet dreams. My stomach flutters each time his sweet voice comes through the monitor. I lie here listening & hoping he returns to his peaceful mind; for a few more hours, at least.

Nothing makes me happier than holding him in my arms & knowing he is safe. Each time we part I feel insecure & protective. Sometimes I sneak a look at him dreaming in his cot & I vehemently hope he will always be safe & know that he is loved & wanted.

My boy, growing so fast, before my eyes. His hand, once so small that he could only grasp my individual fingers, now grows so quickly that I find us palm to palm. His long fingers interlocking mine, for a moment, & then loose again & always sticky.

He reaches out for his Dad & says his first words “Dad, Dad, Dad…” & every time I hear that little voice it makes me giggle with its insistent, soft tone.

No one will ever be more loved than our children, of that, I am certain.

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© Violet Ashes 2015

Lightning Bolts

Zeus-Hera_shadowsineden.blogspot.com

Last night I dreamt of Zeus & of Hera & their children. Eileithyia – with her watchful eye has followed me through the last two years & two dead babies. She whispers to me & although I understand her in the dream I do not remember her words when I wake & yet her words haunt me.

I awoke with pain lingering in my abdomen & tears on my cheeks. My husband asked me what was wrong, why was I crying & I maintained, “I’m alright, I’m fine” but I am never sure if I am.

The two dead babies in my dream – they float. They stare at me but they do not talk. I know who they are, even now, but they are not mine anymore. Eileithyia runs her hands over my back & through my hair. Whatever she says, upsets me.

I am not the same person I was before I met Eileithyia in my dreams. I am not as fickle or forlorn but I am the same amount of furious. There is a burning in my belly, a ferocious fire that wants to burn the world down – holding in my words, my thoughts & my feelings for fear of hurting people is like having lightning bolts streak through me minute by minute. If only I did not care. Perhaps I could let it out & the burning would stop. Perhaps I would be reduced to Ashes. If only.

We do not talk about these things anymore, my husband & I. I am too angry & he Is too sad. All the waiting & the disappointment. The passion & the pain. It beats down our door every month & we fall deeper in all the time. We both know it cannot destroy us, we know no matter the outcome we are stronger together & stronger than anything the Gods could throw at us. But in the meantime, our daily lives are filled with hope & uncertainty; of conversations not endured & decisions not made.

“People ask me how we are,
We are, I say, mostly lost.”


Lightning Bolts – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Two lightning bolts were delivered to my room,
They were gifts from Zeus.
I rock the bolts in a bassinet of pine.

People ask me how I am,
I say “I’m all right, I’m fine.”

I push the lightning bolts in a pram,
Till the sun goes down & it gets dark,
& the girls from Jubilee Street hang out their windows,
& they wave & ask me how I am tonight.
I say “I’m good, I’m all right.”

In Athens all the youths are crying from the gas.
I’m by the hotel pool working on a tan.
People come up & ask me who I am.
I say if you don’t know, don’t ask.

Zeus laughs – but it’s the gas.
& he asks me how I am.
I say “Zeus, don’t ask.”

My lightning bolts are jolts of joy,
They are joy boys from Zeus.
I feed them porridge in their booster seats of knowledge.

& in the cradle of democracy, the pigeons are wearing gas masks.

My lightning bolts play in the elevators,
They slide down the hotel banister,
& Zeus throws a gas canister,
& it spins around the pool,
As pigeons wearing respirators steal the lightning bolts.

Zeus wants them back.

O my bolts of joy,
O my darling little boys.
They are lost to us.
& people.. .
They are never coming back.

At night I watch them sleep,
& cry years of tears,
& it’s not the gas.

People ask me how we are
“We are,” I say, “mostly lost.”

 

Reflection

 
 
We fell in love in an afternoon & the sun set as we kissed.
The beauty of the dimming sky; a reflection in your blue eyes.
We kissed & felt a new forever beat in our chests.
An eternal sunset burning in our hearts each day born anew & ending with a kiss.
A kiss as sweet & warm as that first afternoon.
 
I await the setting of the sun each day for the chance to kiss again.
Each sunset on another year together;
a beauty, a reflection, and a promise to each other.
This love is as certain as the sun setting on the day.
 
10th of February; 6 years to the day
a happy anniversary of that first afternoon
I can measure the years of our love in sunsets.
Affection in your eyes that never dims
And a bond which not storm nor rain could break.

Sunset 41 IMG_0657Tumblr
  

Just 4

This morning I had a positive pregnancy test. I would only be very early – 4 weeks at the most. I am positive about this despite what happened to our first pregnancy. I feel healthier & ready – for whatever happens.

There are a multitude of feelings I have about this. This morning when I saw the positive test I wondered whether I should wait to tell Corsmor – but I know that I can’t live that way. First of all, he is my husband, I can’t lie to him. Secondly, this baby is half his, I can’t deny him experiencing whatever there is to experience. I won’t say that I am not hesitant.

We are heading to the beach today & I will tell Corsmor on the shore – where there is nobody but him & I, the ocean & the waves. Whatever his reaction I am sure he will be happy. I am sure he will feel similar to me, hesitant, but happy.

Footprints by Vanerich

Footprints by Vanerich

 

Velvet Buttons

It will be our second wedding anniversary in a week & a half. There are days where I feel as if the time has flown but honestly, right now, it feels like just the right amount of time.

Despite the last two years throwing some of the most difficult challenges at us, at me, that I have ever had to face I am amazed & proud to say that I can still get up each morning & look myself in the mirror. Okay, sometimes it is through the slit of one eye, but it is still me that looks back & at the end of (most) days I smile. The principal reason for this is the man who chose me to be his wife. After almost a decade of knowing him I can honestly say that I would not be here, if not for him.

With our cotton anniversary looming I have been, naturally, thinking about our wedding day – running all the memories through my mind, it is still fresh & beautiful in there – so many tender & spectacular moments that are too divine to describe. As always, I recall my favourite moments & there it is. Shining out in the light on its pedestal. That one shining moment, that is still my favourite from that entire day.

Corsmor & I left our wedding reception much later than we had planned – we were having so much fun & we had to force ourselves to leave. Under the arch of love we bid farewell to our guests & made our way to our bridal suite. We stood in the middle of our room & looked at each other. In the background the murmur from the reception continued on (& on for the next hour or so…)

Corsmor stood behind me & unbuttoned the back of my gown – there were over 30 buttons which were covered in velvet & encased a zip. His fingers worked them all & he slid the zip down with ease. My dress fell to the floor. I turned & kissed him, passionately.
   “Mr Rolfe, may I present your wife?” I whispered
He grinned & his blue eyes glistened. Lump in his throat, he laughed & kissed me again.

My feet were aching & I felt weak. Corsmor ran me a bath & I slipped into the bubbles with no complaint. It was then I noticed that my hands were a light shade of bordeaux – the dye from my velvet wedding gown had worn off onto my skin. I grinned.

I lied there with the handmade diamond pins still in my hair, my glossed red lips, my wedding ring & my engagement ring sparkling. I am sure that I was grinning, my cheeks were aching from smiling all day. I closed my eyes. I drifted.

When I got out of the bath & put on my warm linen robe & found Corsmor outside on our balcony – his suit still on, his tie removed & his top few buttons open. He was fine-looking. Handsome, strong & neat in his suit. He had, had his waistcoat made from the same velvet as my dress – his idea & it was soft to touch & the colour set off his dark, olive skin.
…”You look pretty” I told him. He laughed again & shook his head.

The moon shone behind us, a light fog hung over Mount Lofty & the music was still beating at the reception. We could see the room glowing from our balcony but we could not see in. It sounded like there was a great party, still, going on.

We sat out on the balcony for hours – we smoked, drank champagne & we talked. We traded war stories about the day, about our families & friends, about how happy we were & how much we loved each other.

This precious time on the balcony in the small hours of the morning are what I remember most from the day because it was just us. It was the first time we had been truly alone all day – our first time alone as man & wife & what did we do? We talked. Like we always had – talk had always come first. From the first moment we met online;
    “Are you going to say something? I am going to delete you if you do not talk to me” he wrote
It was a challenge & I accepted.

That is nearly a decade ago now.

Only hours previous we had our photo taken in front of that same balcony & in our window sill. I knew that years later we would want to remember our room & the moments alone. Pictures & notebooks full of stories; that is how I remember. Without them, I am lost.

When the air began to chill & the wild birds started to rustle; the music from the reception had stopped long ago (I had not noticed) we decided to go back to our room.

I texted my brother, Leo.

   “Happiest day of my life…”

& it was.

Wedding Day

Lousy Engineer

Sometimes I wake up not knowing where I am, or who I am. This morning was just like that. Not an out of body experience but the kind of shady-eyed, heart-racing, full-bladder wakeup where you only have one thing on your mind. & once you’ve visited the toilet you look in the mirror as the cold water runs over your hands & you wonder who the hell you are looking at.
“Is that me? Are those my mascara stains?”

YES.

Waking up this week could take forever.

Feels like my body is rejecting me. My brain & heart are in different places & I swear I can feel the spring run through my blood redesigning my DNA. It is never satisfied. Bring back the winter. I approve of the rain & the cold. The long sleeves & the late mornings. The blue dawn & the days I forget my umbrella & refuse to run.

By the end of this week spring will have taken full hold of September & there will be beauty everywhere. Greens, pinks, blues – flowers & faces. I can’t help but let it absorb me but I don’t really approve.

I am not as cruel as you think I am, or as angry.

He works hard & the harder he works, the more often I am alone. The harder he works the more I appreciate him, but the harder he works the less I see of him to appreciate.

It is almost 3pm & the day has been swallowed – I cannot remember what I have done other than write & think & drink cranberry juice. My bladder is screaming at me, I have to go & each time I lose my train of thought & every time I see that girl in the mirror again. I do not know who she is but I would like to peel her face off & build a new one. She is not who I wanted her to be & I cannot figure out how to map my way to who she should have been.

Ashes ©Jan Marie 1986

Ashes ©Jan Marie 1986

Clair de Lune (Moonlight)

I awoke screaming this morning with a man standing over the top of me. In those few seconds I was submerged in decades of memories & my heart pounded out of control. As my eyes focussed & my ears warmed up I heard Corsmor whisper,
    “Hey it’s only me… are you okay?”
I closed my eyes again, slowly. My eyelids visible to me as they shut out the light. Confusion & then relief. As I rubbed my sore neck & shoulders it was then I realised my skin was clammy with sweat & I was shaking uncontrollably.

I got myself up & shook the horror somewhere deep down while I showered & washed off the nightmares that I could not remember. The water was hot enough to burn my skin right to the bone; boil me alive. I stayed that way for an hour or more.

When finally I did get out of the shower, I saw myself in the foggy mirror, my naked body looking small & overwhelmed with red & stinging scars. As I dried my hair I remembered moonlight from my dreams. I wrapped a towel around myself & walked barefoot to my piano where I sat down. The notes from ‘Clair de Lune’ filled my mind. My fingers shook on the keys & I stroked them like a long-lost pet,
“can I remember how to play… this?” I whispered
Then, like the rusty magic of a teenage boy my fingers floated & pressed on the keys, I knew the tune & it knew me. Then came calm, unimaginable.

This tune is part of the soundtrack of my life – first heard as a girl. I dreamed of one day seeing Paris, of walking streets unknown, unseen. Lying somewhere on the grass staring up at a new night sky – stars I have never seen – in a place of beauty rivalled only by the music it makes in my mind.

(visit YouTube to hear – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-LXl4y6D-QI)

Moonlight in Paris