Author Archives: Tripps

just a space for me to write when the creative bug shows itself

Barista

I watched her today, quiet quick determination. A simple task really, refill the straws. Sounds easy enough but with a line of customers stretching to the front door every second counts. Dirty looks and snide remarks are the norm as it is for her, patience for a well made coffee drink has long ago vanished. I want it now is the entitled  expectation these days.

Located on the top shelf and out of reach without a step latter, I’m  captivated and mesmerized watching as she stretches her body like the fantastic four rubber man, her toes delicately balanced on their very tips, her legs tight and locked, arms outstretched further then should be aloud,  pony tail touching the small of her back, her nimble fingers reaching through the grate of the top shelf. Flick, flick, flick, edging closer to the front of the shelf. Got it. Mission accomplished,  on to the next immediate task at hand.

Next trip

Id like to think i shall find her somewhere in big sky country, in a quaint small used book store. Sitting in an oversized high back chair, reading an older anne rice novel, menoch the devil perhaps. Her legs not long enough to reach the floor, gently swing to the rhythm of my heart beat. The setting western sun fading behind the rockies shines through the transit she sits under, highlighting her elegance even more. Id imagine a sun rise in heaven wouldnt be much more to look at. Finally someone to share my almond joy with.

19

And i saw a sea of people wrapped in safety protecting themselves from the truth. All were marching in six foot unison to the beats of illusion and lies. Swimming upstream naked and dirty i am shamed and ridiculed for my ignorance. Cries in all directions for my sanity to return to me reverberate from across this ocean of fear. Resisting to my very core, their pleads have no effect on me, for i am the sole author of this experience called life

Wave

Eons before the cosmic egg gave birth to the sidereal above. A thought of creation was formed. Flowing in perfect harmony, a timeless sine wave of feminine curve was imagined into the abyss of nothing.

Osculating in consensus rhythm, this thought, this idea of life, originating from which i know no name of, after countless ages returned to its source. Thought gave way to the physical as this ouroborus of creation birthed the cradle of life.

Time and space were now possible as creations womb set mans existence in motion. From the purple dawn of primordial man, down through the ages, this original thought of creation, this perfect feminine form walked by me today. She was worth the wait