"i have come to tell you that i have come. on the way, i noted women transfixed by the light coming from their centers. their heads are bowed. they have learned that if you tilt your neck to the slightest degree and hold your head just so you can look into the lost worlds. they are there retrieving their young from the clutches of negligent daycare. they have come to care for the night. many of them are glowing brighter than the moon herself. thank the heavens she is not jealous in her luminescence, for i have seen many women glowing beyond the intensity of the moon and thought that perhaps the night had mirrored itself in the wake of this glorious occasion: our communion. yes, i have come. i have had a safe journey, although my fears had mounted against me. there were many mountains of my own making and valleys of days without vision."
Saul Williams ~ from the book She
Monday, December 13, 2010
ten pulses
her spirit limps
down lonely sterile halls
fists clenched
lips bit
while her body
lays lingering
behind bars with
mickey mouse sheets
and chemical stinks.
created in the pressure of a memory
her restlessness blooms
eager magenta moons
tidal quips
seeking lifts
and warmth
from a mothers arms.
slippery weak lungs beg
for forgiveness
for deeds of another lifetime
her mind,
young and deaf
listens only for her voice
between the nurses page
and the detached fear
of her own rage
slamming against the wooden rails.
created in the hesitation of a mother
a daughter drowns
in the fluid of pneumonia.
the thick and wet
of abandonment.
(a ten word writing excercise: lonely, eager, magenta, lingering, slippery, tidal, pressure, deaf, seeking, hesitation)
down lonely sterile halls
fists clenched
lips bit
while her body
lays lingering
behind bars with
mickey mouse sheets
and chemical stinks.
created in the pressure of a memory
her restlessness blooms
eager magenta moons
tidal quips
seeking lifts
and warmth
from a mothers arms.
slippery weak lungs beg
for forgiveness
for deeds of another lifetime
her mind,
young and deaf
listens only for her voice
between the nurses page
and the detached fear
of her own rage
slamming against the wooden rails.
created in the hesitation of a mother
a daughter drowns
in the fluid of pneumonia.
the thick and wet
of abandonment.
(a ten word writing excercise: lonely, eager, magenta, lingering, slippery, tidal, pressure, deaf, seeking, hesitation)
Monday, November 22, 2010
Neruda
THE HEAVENLY POETS
Pablo Neruda
What have you done
you intellectualists?
you mystifiers?
you false existentialist sorcerers?
you surrealistic poppies shining on a tomb?
you pale grubs in the capitalist cheese?
What did you do
about the kingdom of anguish?
about this dark human being
kicked into submission?
about this head
submerged in manure?
about this essence
of harsh, trampled lives?
You didn't do anything but escape
you sold piles of debris
you looked for heavenly hairs
cowardly plants, broken fingernails
"pure beauty" "magic".
Your works were those of poor frightened folk
trying to keep your eyes from looking
trying to protect their delicate pupils
so you could make for your living
a plate of dirty scraps
which the masters flung to you.
Without seeing that the stones are in agony,
without defending, without conquering,
blinder than the wreaths
in the cemetery when the rain
falls on the motionless
rotten flowers on the tomb.
Pablo Neruda
What have you done
you intellectualists?
you mystifiers?
you false existentialist sorcerers?
you surrealistic poppies shining on a tomb?
you pale grubs in the capitalist cheese?
What did you do
about the kingdom of anguish?
about this dark human being
kicked into submission?
about this head
submerged in manure?
about this essence
of harsh, trampled lives?
You didn't do anything but escape
you sold piles of debris
you looked for heavenly hairs
cowardly plants, broken fingernails
"pure beauty" "magic".
Your works were those of poor frightened folk
trying to keep your eyes from looking
trying to protect their delicate pupils
so you could make for your living
a plate of dirty scraps
which the masters flung to you.
Without seeing that the stones are in agony,
without defending, without conquering,
blinder than the wreaths
in the cemetery when the rain
falls on the motionless
rotten flowers on the tomb.
Detached
Disclaimer (lol): I was thinking it would be easy for him to stumble upon this and be hurt. The truth is, it was a purge, an angry, vile, silent rant...and it felt good. But it is not the whole truth, it was only a moment.
At the moment,
I have no hope that we can make it
No feelings of permanence
Only neglect, bitterness and solitude.
You’re ugly
You’re full of rage
Your victimized reality bores me.
At the moment,
I feel I put out more than is given
Stroking your ego,
Soothing my own hurt,
I constantly wonder who has your attention
Because its certainly not present here.
You’re absent
You’re guarded
Your lack of intimacy is stifling.
At the moment,
I am living with a stranger
Who avoids me.
The space between us is ravenous.
At the moment,
I am daydreaming about something new
Not pouring energy into repairing
Something of value.
Because the worth has faded
Time has passed it over
And left a sheen of fuck yous.
At the moment,
I am finding my alone happy
Not a single thought of who I once fell in love with
Not a single regret of how we used to be
Not one tiny grain of hope for us.
Alone I can do,
Misery with you,
Seems unbearable.
At the moment,
I don’t know if I love you.
I don’t know if I care if you don’t love me.
I don’t trust you.
Your secrecy has outworn its welcome.
Your distance has created havoc.
Your hollow excuses are cartoonish.
At the moment,
I feel bad for writing these things
It is difficult to contain
My hurt feelings popping up
Like heated kernels
of love lost.
At the moment,
I want to keep this all to myself
And watch you flounder
In this sea of bullshit.
I want to bide my time.
Sever my feelings.
And become detached
Like you.
At the moment,
I have no hope that we can make it
No feelings of permanence
Only neglect, bitterness and solitude.
You’re ugly
You’re full of rage
Your victimized reality bores me.
At the moment,
I feel I put out more than is given
Stroking your ego,
Soothing my own hurt,
I constantly wonder who has your attention
Because its certainly not present here.
You’re absent
You’re guarded
Your lack of intimacy is stifling.
At the moment,
I am living with a stranger
Who avoids me.
The space between us is ravenous.
At the moment,
I am daydreaming about something new
Not pouring energy into repairing
Something of value.
Because the worth has faded
Time has passed it over
And left a sheen of fuck yous.
At the moment,
I am finding my alone happy
Not a single thought of who I once fell in love with
Not a single regret of how we used to be
Not one tiny grain of hope for us.
Alone I can do,
Misery with you,
Seems unbearable.
At the moment,
I don’t know if I love you.
I don’t know if I care if you don’t love me.
I don’t trust you.
Your secrecy has outworn its welcome.
Your distance has created havoc.
Your hollow excuses are cartoonish.
At the moment,
I feel bad for writing these things
It is difficult to contain
My hurt feelings popping up
Like heated kernels
of love lost.
At the moment,
I want to keep this all to myself
And watch you flounder
In this sea of bullshit.
I want to bide my time.
Sever my feelings.
And become detached
Like you.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
a nagging nag
Write me, write me, write me scream the words in my head
As I toil with the unimportant, the sarcastic and the hopeless
My will falls flat and leaves the words to remain disconnected to the greater whole of creativity.
Write what? Which thought? Which emotion? Which tricky piece of word play will tickle my inspiration?
Write about nothing, write lists about aspirations, write about your flaws, write about your guilt, write about your longing, your staccato, your ambivalent passion…
Write about where you want to be, who you want to be, write about your past, your secrets. Write about tomorrow that seriously may not come, write about your faith, your pessimism, your hopeful vibration.
Write about love you’ve lost, love you found and love that never touched your spirit but drew maps all over your body.
Write about your loneliness that exists everywhere no matter how many warm bodies fill up a room.
Write about the rapid changes, the flagrant fixed and the wildly wobbly nature that tortures you.
Write…Write…Write
Create a whole by piercing a hole in your protective bubble.
As I toil with the unimportant, the sarcastic and the hopeless
My will falls flat and leaves the words to remain disconnected to the greater whole of creativity.
Write what? Which thought? Which emotion? Which tricky piece of word play will tickle my inspiration?
Write about nothing, write lists about aspirations, write about your flaws, write about your guilt, write about your longing, your staccato, your ambivalent passion…
Write about where you want to be, who you want to be, write about your past, your secrets. Write about tomorrow that seriously may not come, write about your faith, your pessimism, your hopeful vibration.
Write about love you’ve lost, love you found and love that never touched your spirit but drew maps all over your body.
Write about your loneliness that exists everywhere no matter how many warm bodies fill up a room.
Write about the rapid changes, the flagrant fixed and the wildly wobbly nature that tortures you.
Write…Write…Write
Create a whole by piercing a hole in your protective bubble.
fly your flag...
No longer tethered to that corporate professional pole, my freak flag blossoms in the wind
No longer concerned about my slightly askew point of view, my peripheral experience is my strength
No longer embarrassed by my instinctive use of words, like poisonous flowers, harmonious and hard hitting
Camouflaged for so long in just trying to not be noticed, I forgot how different I am. Not that I ever wanted to be normal, but still, I was putting on a show to survive in an environment that is stifled. A world that considers different, crazy. I am definitely preoccupied with and afraid of crazy. Old friends, we often sit on the edge of sanity together. She lives in my bones, in the fat of my mother’s flesh and in the tears of my sister. But, I am starting to understand. If I repress my nature for the sake of others or for the sake of my own fear, I will go crazy. TO THYNE OWNSELF BE TRUE. I am unique. I am beautiful and ugly, forward thinking and repressed, compassionate and angry, mother and child. I do not hear they way others hear, or see, or feel…my perspective is colored by my emotions and my intuition. It could be said that there is nothing more pertinent, nothing more real, nothing more necessary in this world.
No longer concerned about my slightly askew point of view, my peripheral experience is my strength
No longer embarrassed by my instinctive use of words, like poisonous flowers, harmonious and hard hitting
Camouflaged for so long in just trying to not be noticed, I forgot how different I am. Not that I ever wanted to be normal, but still, I was putting on a show to survive in an environment that is stifled. A world that considers different, crazy. I am definitely preoccupied with and afraid of crazy. Old friends, we often sit on the edge of sanity together. She lives in my bones, in the fat of my mother’s flesh and in the tears of my sister. But, I am starting to understand. If I repress my nature for the sake of others or for the sake of my own fear, I will go crazy. TO THYNE OWNSELF BE TRUE. I am unique. I am beautiful and ugly, forward thinking and repressed, compassionate and angry, mother and child. I do not hear they way others hear, or see, or feel…my perspective is colored by my emotions and my intuition. It could be said that there is nothing more pertinent, nothing more real, nothing more necessary in this world.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
"The only thing wrong with you is thinking that there is something wrong with you."
I am coming to the realization that I blame myself for everything, it is my first response to any sort of discord or failure, "it must be me". This is so f@cked up when I actually think about it! #1 - its arrogant, like I have the power and the influence to control other peoples reactions or feelings #2 - its self-absorbed, like everything circles around me and my actions or feelings #3 - its self-hating/rejecting, like a cycle, its a way of confirming our low self worth.
For example, my man is away for the month of August. I sent him a poem I wrote during our falling-in-love phase. I wanted to give him something to keep in his heart while he was away. He ignored it, no response, no acknowledgment. I meant to make him smile, warm him up a little. But it could have been taken differently on his end. I can't control how it was taken, but my first reaction was..."maybe he thought I was trying to manipulate or control, or maybe it came off as clingy...blah, blah, blah. I automatically blamed myself. But in truth, it was rude of him, we have been together for 4 years, he knows that this inaction, would sting.
But it got me thinking that in our relationship, I take the blame for our failures/holes...I never say "well, Jay is just a little inconsiderate". I should, I should totally acknowledge his contribution as a whole. But instead, I feel like my flaws are the root of ALL of our issues...and that is just not the truth.
Im so over blaming myself for everything. The overwhelming amount of guilt I feel at any given moment is stifling. I am me, all the positive and all the negative, but I am good person and I mean well in all my actions. I need to acknowledge my worth, my value...not my sit in my negatives all the time.
I am coming to the realization that I blame myself for everything, it is my first response to any sort of discord or failure, "it must be me". This is so f@cked up when I actually think about it! #1 - its arrogant, like I have the power and the influence to control other peoples reactions or feelings #2 - its self-absorbed, like everything circles around me and my actions or feelings #3 - its self-hating/rejecting, like a cycle, its a way of confirming our low self worth.
For example, my man is away for the month of August. I sent him a poem I wrote during our falling-in-love phase. I wanted to give him something to keep in his heart while he was away. He ignored it, no response, no acknowledgment. I meant to make him smile, warm him up a little. But it could have been taken differently on his end. I can't control how it was taken, but my first reaction was..."maybe he thought I was trying to manipulate or control, or maybe it came off as clingy...blah, blah, blah. I automatically blamed myself. But in truth, it was rude of him, we have been together for 4 years, he knows that this inaction, would sting.
But it got me thinking that in our relationship, I take the blame for our failures/holes...I never say "well, Jay is just a little inconsiderate". I should, I should totally acknowledge his contribution as a whole. But instead, I feel like my flaws are the root of ALL of our issues...and that is just not the truth.
Im so over blaming myself for everything. The overwhelming amount of guilt I feel at any given moment is stifling. I am me, all the positive and all the negative, but I am good person and I mean well in all my actions. I need to acknowledge my worth, my value...not my sit in my negatives all the time.
Friday, July 30, 2010
"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."
Anatole France
so true...perhaps my uneasiness stems from straddling two worlds. eventually I must let go of the old and my sentimentality is holding on for dear life. the last 15 years have served me so well, independently, strong and able. I valued these things about myself. The new direction requires less sufficiency and more softness, more openness. Those attributes I also value...but they are so vulnerable.
Anatole France
so true...perhaps my uneasiness stems from straddling two worlds. eventually I must let go of the old and my sentimentality is holding on for dear life. the last 15 years have served me so well, independently, strong and able. I valued these things about myself. The new direction requires less sufficiency and more softness, more openness. Those attributes I also value...but they are so vulnerable.
drifter
I’m drifting in and out of motivation and melancholy
Reaching for dry air,
Saturated by the humid nature of myself
Drifting amongst waves of silence and outbursts of passion, that only I can hear
I have no idea what it looks like from the outside, but on the inside it is a pendulum
The equilibrium pivots from death to life in a single breath
Drifting aimlessly without an anchor to pull me back into some semblance of relief
I am not angry, I am not sad, I am ambivalent, kind of numb and troublingly disoriented
The span of 24 hours feels ancient, I forgot what I said, how I reacted or what I even felt
Relaxed, without strain or tension, I coast and forget
Tight and stressed, I recorded every detail of every moment.
Drifting from solitude to a desperate need for interaction
And getting ruffled from the unavailability of myself.
I feel so different from myself
The focus and the determination are slipping and there is a panic to that realization
Will I be me without those attributes?
Is this permanent?
Am I fading?
Am I becoming a fragment of my previous self?
Do I care?
Because I’m not sure that I do.
For once in my life I am not carrying the weight.
For once in my life I do not have puff up and appear greater and stronger than I actually feel.
There is such a liberation going on inside of me without those restraints
But it scares me to wander, to drift too far away from the middle line that I’ve always considered ‘normal’
I despise my immature emotions
I feel foolish with these bursts of feeling, and yet, they are true, they are honest, they are me.
Is it possible that I’ve walked around for 38 years wearing someone else’s skin?
And now that it is shedding, I feel naked…exposed and undeveloped.
I’m not sure where the fear is rooted, going insane? Being vulnerable? Losing everything that society tells me to value?
I am in a state of flux
Drifting around the expanse of my true self and I don’t know how to be.
Who am I?
Reaching for dry air,
Saturated by the humid nature of myself
Drifting amongst waves of silence and outbursts of passion, that only I can hear
I have no idea what it looks like from the outside, but on the inside it is a pendulum
The equilibrium pivots from death to life in a single breath
Drifting aimlessly without an anchor to pull me back into some semblance of relief
I am not angry, I am not sad, I am ambivalent, kind of numb and troublingly disoriented
The span of 24 hours feels ancient, I forgot what I said, how I reacted or what I even felt
Relaxed, without strain or tension, I coast and forget
Tight and stressed, I recorded every detail of every moment.
Drifting from solitude to a desperate need for interaction
And getting ruffled from the unavailability of myself.
I feel so different from myself
The focus and the determination are slipping and there is a panic to that realization
Will I be me without those attributes?
Is this permanent?
Am I fading?
Am I becoming a fragment of my previous self?
Do I care?
Because I’m not sure that I do.
For once in my life I am not carrying the weight.
For once in my life I do not have puff up and appear greater and stronger than I actually feel.
There is such a liberation going on inside of me without those restraints
But it scares me to wander, to drift too far away from the middle line that I’ve always considered ‘normal’
I despise my immature emotions
I feel foolish with these bursts of feeling, and yet, they are true, they are honest, they are me.
Is it possible that I’ve walked around for 38 years wearing someone else’s skin?
And now that it is shedding, I feel naked…exposed and undeveloped.
I’m not sure where the fear is rooted, going insane? Being vulnerable? Losing everything that society tells me to value?
I am in a state of flux
Drifting around the expanse of my true self and I don’t know how to be.
Who am I?
Thursday, June 17, 2010
More tricky therapy…
Yesterday was exhausting, but I woke up aware. I get it now. I understand where the discord is coming from and why I am at odds with family. There comes a time in your life, for some people, that we allow ourselves to build a new family unit with another. Normally, this is an extension of your family. In my case, coming from a co-dependent, dysfunctional mess of insecurity, this came as a shock to the rest of my family. When I was 21, I had Elan, together, we built our double unit and kept my family. When Jay came into my life, he was accepted and loved by my family. When I got pregnant with Inara, everything changed. Finally, at 36 I had my own true family unit to build. Finally, I had unconditional love and support from a man that I could love and support. This is when I started changing. I bucked it at first, afraid to be reliant on him as family, afraid that he would leave or fail, afraid that he would learn to not love me. I was consumed with this family, the baby, my son and Jay. I began to pull away from the dysfunction because I had so much on my plate. This pulling away hurt people’s feelings. My father was no longer a male figure of importance because he started being so bitter. My sister’s co-dependent relationship with me was so heavy and no matter how much I would try to build her up, she would not build herself up, so I stopped trying to build her up. I had awakened to the fact that my family demanded much of me, but gave me very little positive in return. When you finally have a positive unit, it is easy to see the cracks in the glass that you once lived in.
So all this discord, I can trace back to my growing, my transforming into a person who is a part of a new unit. In a perfect world, we can have our family and our new unit. In my world, the immaturity, stunted growth and selfishness makes this difficult. I want to rebuild with my sister, I do not want to rebuild with my father, but my father is still a figure of importance and influence with my relationship with my sister. Its tricky. I need to learn how to have a non-co-dependent relationship with her, and that is tricky. I have always been the rock, and I provided the rock out of love. But I cannot be her rock, I can not be her sole support system. I used to have a book, Co-Dependent No More, but I gave it to a friend…I hate that I learn something and forget the fundamentals, drives me nuts!
Now, my father, I cannot forgive…I’m hard as they come once I’ve been burned. So I must learn to allow to maneuver without allowing his opinions/judgment/gossip/nastiness, to penetrate. For the majority of my life, his opinion was so important to me, I valued it, cherished it. When his view changed, it forces me to change my own view of myself. Not literally, but overall, I subconsciously feel worth less because he no longer holds me in regard. In my perfect reality, I would not see or speak with him, but I feel my son would resent that. I could try to be more compassionate about his hurt, but he was so malicious and he is so calculated that I just can’t find it in myself. So I will wait, maneuver and survive.
People don’t like change…this is true for families. Families that are built on favoritism, addiction, resentment and anger, even less so. I am not a stagnant person, I seek the movement, the chaos, the transformation…and I can’t expect everyone in my life to understand and/or embrace that. That was kind of a revelation for me this morning.
So all this discord, I can trace back to my growing, my transforming into a person who is a part of a new unit. In a perfect world, we can have our family and our new unit. In my world, the immaturity, stunted growth and selfishness makes this difficult. I want to rebuild with my sister, I do not want to rebuild with my father, but my father is still a figure of importance and influence with my relationship with my sister. Its tricky. I need to learn how to have a non-co-dependent relationship with her, and that is tricky. I have always been the rock, and I provided the rock out of love. But I cannot be her rock, I can not be her sole support system. I used to have a book, Co-Dependent No More, but I gave it to a friend…I hate that I learn something and forget the fundamentals, drives me nuts!
Now, my father, I cannot forgive…I’m hard as they come once I’ve been burned. So I must learn to allow to maneuver without allowing his opinions/judgment/gossip/nastiness, to penetrate. For the majority of my life, his opinion was so important to me, I valued it, cherished it. When his view changed, it forces me to change my own view of myself. Not literally, but overall, I subconsciously feel worth less because he no longer holds me in regard. In my perfect reality, I would not see or speak with him, but I feel my son would resent that. I could try to be more compassionate about his hurt, but he was so malicious and he is so calculated that I just can’t find it in myself. So I will wait, maneuver and survive.
People don’t like change…this is true for families. Families that are built on favoritism, addiction, resentment and anger, even less so. I am not a stagnant person, I seek the movement, the chaos, the transformation…and I can’t expect everyone in my life to understand and/or embrace that. That was kind of a revelation for me this morning.
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