The Law of Attraction

Positive
And so I'm lying here
Naked as in new
Thinking about the path
The universe knows my direction
I know my piece in it
But I've struggled knowing
The arrows trajectory
Wasn't for me this time
Wasn't for the dreams I dreamt
Of us and my heart
I've wanted to meet myself
With hearts for eyes
And to know what might deep rose
Look in my heart led lens
I wanted those eyes
Gazing at your eyes
I wanted those Cupid eyes
Gazing into my blue windows
The universe knows my direction
I've learned I want the deep ocean
In my eyes for two
I want to love
Even if its not you
I know my peace in it
The calm after the storm
Beating in highs and lows
As heart beats time
The anticipation I felt
They return to light
I've returned to freedom
Arms out wide
Like a prayer to the breeze
Carrying my seeds
To fertile ground
And I dance the dance
Of single solitude
With my partner
Hallelujah
Happy moments make a happy life
And I will love...

Gillian ZRW
11:24pm 02/18/13

January Song

Fresh
The air was crisp that day
The kind that bites
Your lungs and skin
Like a sweet rose's thorns
The kind that cleans
Your heart and spirit
Like a new wave's spray
Refreshing like new beginnings
I was tired of last year
Tired of old tears
And ready for new
Ordained thirteen
Lucky or cursed
It feels blessed
It feels mechanically organic
It feels fresh
Fresh in the baptism of hymnals
Sweet like cherries off the tree
Fresh in the communion of change
Sweet like the kindness in patience
Fresh in the confirmation of connection
Sweet like the new smell of January

9:13am January 17, 2013
Gillian

Romanticism

Fancy
I'm supposed to be studying Romanticism for my English class, and I'm defiantly struggling to focus. It's been a great day and it feels so anticlimactic to end it staring at my Literature Book as if it was the best thing to read- ever. My life is consistently a game of balance- fun and adventure with work and responsibility. Today I turned in a scholarship application, I had an amazing time down town with my host sister and some friends, and I saw this is 40. It's weird thinking of how my life will be in that graceful time of denial, the disappointments of failed visions, and the finding of yourself for the umpteenth time. I think that's all I have to say. I'm grateful for my host sister, both of my families and all of my friends (adopted families) that mean so much to me. Peace!

Dreaming and Driving

Life
Deep breaths
My hands hit the wheel
And I think of you
You
Too good to be true
And I flew
Like time
Years
And you weren't on my radar
Life flashing before
And into my future
I'm seeing myself brake
At a green light.
Stop stoping
Let yourself accelerate towards
A good thing
It awaits
If its fate fall
Trust fall
Fall in love if you dare
If its right
If you can take your foot off the brake
I awake
Never been on a public road
Never felt the revving accelerator
Beneath my feet
The rite of passage flew by
I was busy doing something
Doing nothing
Not considering you
Or driving
Only flying
Only future
Never accelerate for the present
Tomorrow I'm insured
Tomorrow I grip the wheel
Green light
Go
Come here
Take the keys
Lets accelerate
Lets go

Gillian Wenzel
11:34pm 01/06/2012

Masterwork (Silk and Cashmere)

Sometimes days like this come into our lives. It's like the stars and the saints and the ancestors bind together to form an eloquent happiness. Something bold and humble alike. Maybe it's the joy of letting go and knowing that you've set yourself up for success, maybe it's the attitude of forward thought and motion, or maybe it's just confidence. But today, today everything felt like cashmere or silk. The the heart-steal cut oats soothed my energy in a brown sugared cradle of breakfast in the kitchen with my family. The pool's water glided off my skin in a quick and effervescent dance. I put on my new clothes, dressed in the costume in the role as: Gillian Z. R. Wenzel- believer of one's own future propulsion. As the peplum cut fell over my body's angles and curves I took a deep breath. Release, ready, hope-driven. My red silk herbal tea was a hug to the nervousness. And it dissipated in the kind synergy that is a possible future home. I listened, I said my soul and I felt so vibrantly woolen. as a lamb's coat is a representation of its past present and future selves I presented my lambs finest cashmere and when out for dinner in celebration I chose the lamb too. Food for thought today; everything for faith today. It's all out of my hands, and I put the best me forward. Proud.

Finding my PENN...In Response to Christmas's Email

Blessed
Blessed is opportunity
adorned in text
the font ordinary
the meaning extraordinary
heart-strings coiled springs
and email with a question
a christmas gift
a blessed pre-order
of my face and my piece
as a place in the dreamed one
blessed is my preemptive jump
an interview
deadlines
alivelines
jump for joy
its an opportunity
an interview
a blossom
of coming fruits

Gillian Z.R. Wenzel
10:59pm 12/25/2012

Ode to Typewriters! Prévert. You?

i want it to click.
decisive rhythms.
tick, tack! tickity, tack, tack.
they are sounds of security.
of beginings. and endings
in the rings! of new lines.
if only life was that simple.
as to pressing buttons...
would actually make yourself understood.
you'll find clarity in the imprint of ink.
that slaps the page with a thwack.
I dont know about you,
but I'm not that simple.
my text is not counts of characters!
only grownups like to count!
just as children like to love!
and i like to watch the ink flow out,
so fluid like a dance across my heart-wings,
bringing red feeling along the way,
i weave my hearts desires for you,
for us, and the cold of october.
the chilling thrill of maturity,
the moments bleed into days,
and the numbers melt like candles.
with my pen in hand all things definite.
denature into songs, humming...
complicated harmonies of smoke,
words become ballets!
and reading books is trivial,
without the words to read!
you may feel bustled, lost in a mess.
but its my beautiful mess.
i feel at home, om, my friend.
no stops and starts and traffic or machines.
just you and the songbird.
me and the crumbling walls.
of the definity that falls
like the roman decay.
or the stamp upon the page
a rhythm of freedom!
tack, tack, tickity! tack, tick.
theses are sounds of revolution!
I dont know about you,
but its exhillerating.
to see the simplicity,
of the last melted word,
thwang upon the page.
followed by a,

question mark...