Monday Random on Tuesday: time

  • In catch-up mode, I can do no less than to write a Monday post and be humble about it, rather than let it go another week yet
  • I know that would bother me more
  • I still must write a #CinemaShame post that was due December 31, so I am actually feeling pretty good about myself for this one!
  • I feel fine in the sense that I am stressed as all get out, but the sun is out and man, if I can’t springboard off that and the 60F+ temps today, I’m useless!

Continue reading “Monday Random on Tuesday: time”

season’s greetings

happy birthday
I met you
on a full moon
planting my flag there
not on the dark side
where you exile’d me
after the twenty-years war

happy birthday
we meet again
on a road still rocky
with mistrust
our lust
for life is the one thing
we can rely on

All the pieces

I have written
all of it
the pieces battered and bruised
from every time on the floor
rocking in the corner

Did you read the chapter
where I rose victorious
out of order because I want you to see it
out of place
I don’t know
what
her name is now

Hate was first
crushing soul defeat
grief kneaded with blood
but when forgiveness came in
there was hope
like miracles
like music

They were wrong
so wrong about love
not being enough
maybe they were never loved like that
(I wasn’t
for ever so long)
convinced
that
hate was bigger

But I was wrong
love
with the strength of millions
dealt a death blow
to fear
(and carelessness
and loathing)

All told
the scraps innumerable
in the thousands
sewn together one by one
with miles of unbreakable cord

(are we) Guarded

I scare myself
(she says)
when I think too deeply, denying the walls and encumbrances held dear
opening doors wide, dragging feathers over fine china
[darling-you are the only thing precious enough that I
worry for breaking (us)]
if we continue to mis-handle
what is too fragile for words
and your heart–I was close to getting
my claws into–seems guarded–the castle
watched by half a dozen guards (and their dogs)
and you, I believe you want me
more than ever
but you will not tell me, no

So I scare myself
(she says to him)
half to death
with no venue to express to you
the depth and lightness of my soul
and this one thing I want more than any
that I would claw for, scratch your eyes
until they are useless (does that scare you)
and she
her dark skin, her caramel that is yours
will remain yours, but I will be happy
if I only see that spark in your eyes–that she can not have–
if I hear you say /sweetheart/
once more–and I believe you
because you are there for only me–
until you are not

Monday Random: love and hate list

It’s time for a little transparency:

I hate:

  1. people being mean, especially to the defenseless
  2. reading ‘teh’ for the
  3. your instead of ‘you’re’
  4. ‘bitch’ becoming part of the vernacular
  5. judging and dismissing based on the body or face
  6. milk
  7. beets
  8. honey
  9. hot, humid days
  10. socks with holes

I love:

  1. humble people who listen
  2. words
  3. music
  4. poets- crazy, strange, and wonderful people
  5. chocolate
  6. coffee
  7. every vegetable and fruit except beets. I eye artichokes and okra warily
  8. pasta
  9. Bill Murray
  10. cool, rainy days

I wish:

  • I spent more time listening when my kids were kids
  • there were less 1-strike-you’re-out people and more listeners
  • spring followed autumn
  • you weren’t so far away, you know who you are
  • the wrong people would leave me be and the right people would see how time is slipping away
  • honey didn’t taste so bad because I seem to be the only one in the world that hates it
  • Kurt Cobain and Robin Williams didn’t give up
  • we could sell laughter for currency
  • Orson Welles lived now, still making films
  • no one was hungry

A song about love and hate:


Continue reading “Monday Random: love and hate list”

Insufficient

I don’t know what else to say, except I love you, Manchester

*****
I have said nothing to anyone about Brussels. I have been
silent, as I was after Paris. (I should have said something)
(anything)

What is there to say-how much is enough?
(Mumbai, New York City, Cameroon, Boston, Ouagadougou,
Jakarta, Manchester, Tanta, London, San Bernardino,
Istanbul, Oklahoma City, Chicago-
do you have time for a complete listing)

I know that anything I say will be insufficient and vague
in comparison (to the truth)
[put up next to what they need
more than words]

If it were me, if I was there, I imagine
I would be as silent as now, wanting to
scream but instead- zombielike- tidying up
walking through what is mundane and useful
and cleaning up the atrocity of violation.
[(This is not yours. Why
do you insist on breaking it to pieces)
is as close as I have come to words]

Are you not tired of the raging?
I weary of the anger, the pure hate
that does not end
always simmering, sometimes boiling over
yet constantly being refilled, that tank-

What can I say? Who am I? I am your neighbor, weeping for you.
My words feel small. My anger does not feel
sufficient

Ticking

Every day I open another door
watching an old one close
turning my head for that moment
hearing the click of the lock
my soul in chains and it is He
who unlocks them-one by one
reminding me I am here
for a greater purpose
everyone hurting – everyone needing
and I have something still to give away

Getting to know my own heart
hiding it even from myself
I get surprised – appalled – scared-
by what oozes out of this organ
the hate and bitterness
the color of death
leaving me now
and I do not look away
at the horror of the decay to my heart
once pulsing and new

So many doors – I get
so easily twisted ’round –
a face from the past
darkening a threshold
confounding me –
what do I really want-
which to choose
and which to board up-
pain when the cells reweave themselves
new life where once was merely debris

It is safe to come out now
as the thunder is less
and the ticking is behind me –
the further I travel down this path
the more I have to learn yet
and I find myself astonished
as I become reacquainted with myself-
loins girded – helmet fastened tight
that others should know me better now
yet you know me less