Qualities of Common Water  

made mud pies & sold them at a stand...2 for 10 cents & we cleaned up :)

you're so funny  :)
I love how you fly
with your imagination
to cause a smile.  

you are anything but common.

find a penny pick her up & all day long you'll want to ......

Lovely, Pisha.

I was struck by the title before I clicked in and the feeling of resonance continued into the body of the work. I imagined the shadow of the god passing between the black oaks, the gentle crunch of their moving branches and flexing trunks in the silent black of the night earth. The white porch of pain reminds me of something. I was 24, 15 years ago, had dropped out of college, moved home, gotten a job, was partying non stop with friends at a local storage unit. Bands rented the units and furnished them like little studio apartments. They could practice all night, outside of city sound ordinance. The storage place became this cool little scene at night. My friend was on hard times and living in a unit, discovered the aforementioned during his residence. We also had a lil 2 man band back then. Him on guitar, me on vocals. Called ourselves Electric Leprechaun. ahaha. Anyways, cocaine, weed and bacardi orange for 2 straight days. Heartbreak was fresh, then. 23 double shots of tequila. I was almost 600 lbs back then, dancing like a lunatic and snapped the cap off my right knee. The crunch was like a tree trunk snapping. In the depths of that sudden agony, I saw a flash of white light that stretched on into a hitherto unknown dimension.  Crashed to the floor, pulled myself up on the couch, felt my knee, the cap was off to the right side. I poured myself 2 more double shots, grabbed my pant leg and pulled my leg straight. The cap wobbled and snapped back into place. Another white flash, this one followed by a ring of darkness that began to close around my vision. My friend Frank leaned in to see what was the matter. I grabbed his head with both hands, stared into his eyes, fought back the darkness and I said to him, There is only pain. Nothing but pain. Anyways, I love your poem. Sorry if the story ran long. The backstory seemed necessary. Namaste.

Thank you.  White.  White waves and the tide of electricity.  At times, my emotional pain still feels like pithing needles in my bones that won't let me breathe.  That white tide has been with me since I was three.  It was the only way then that I had to describe it to myself.    
 
Those things will always be in my being and so in my writing, and its always laced in a religious undertone.  Those that thought they knew who god was would come and tell me. Yet I found him out in nature, very young, and it didn't sound like them at all.  :)  
 
Things that affect us we write about.    Your personal story is very welcome here. :)  I really enjoyed it.