Monthly Archives: May 2013

Stranded on the Shore

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Stranded on the Shore

Still and silent, the rage-laden whispers speak
Of possibilities in the form of forth-coming terrors
The horse’s mouth, bird beak, hushed words
Tale telling of a Go-See plot
And does it, so loudly unspoken
Against lost time, better judgement, all odds
Standing to remind of a broad daylight greed
A thief I never and always saw coming

The words that want so badly to never be said

Paint a picture, spin a web
Revealing what’s taken and can’t be returned: innocence, purpose, peace
Without words the secrets see them, rumor them around
The ugly truths, hidden horrors that bring my conscience to its knees and face to face with everything swept beneath the rug
For the sake and demise, equally, of my fragile mental well-being
What will my being become, if not well?
Will I live to hunt the answers down, the knot-tying fears for which my heart is broken and breaks?
The ceaseless prayers, the Nothing that’s changed
Am I the only one? The stand-alone widow, the petrified wood
Will the hand of God reach all the sense unmade?
Intervene, explain how I came to be in this place
Negate the reasons, the wild card
Played by the King of Spades
Savage; cripple
Keeper of my gate
I look into his eyes
And all I see
Is the exchange of his name for my entire life, my dreams of a future or anything worthwhile, my every breath and every move accounted for, my soul and my sense of belonging
In this world there are winners and losers
Sometimes it’s just luck of the draw
But this, this was something I chose
For myself, my children
I look into their eyes
And all I see
Is their entire life, their dreams of a future or anything worthwhile, their every breath and every move accounted for, their soul and sense of belonging
Teetering on the verge
Between manifest and unactual; my lifelong regret in the making
Who am I to tame the darkness, yet how am I to let it live?
Woman warrior, a mother I was always
First
I’ll be damned or dead if he gets the last word

The words that want so badly to never be said

So I’m Not Dying, It’s Decided, And Other Good News

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Random token for the day: I quit smoking (!!!) a couple of weeks ago and finally stuck with it. Go me. 🙂

It was a long time coming. A pack and a half a day, of cigars. Cherry clove cigars, which are nowhere near as nasty or unattractive as they sound.

But I quit, so high five.

I’m still on these God-awful IV antibiotics (the side effects of which are a lot like Influenza on steroids), after a total of three surgeries for this flesh-eating nonsense (MRSA Cellulitis, and can you believe that that’s what it took for me to finally quit smoking?).

Three surgeries in two months. The kind of surgery where you go home with a ferocious open wound and have brutal daily home health visits to pack the wound –like a Thanksgiving turkey– with some sort of miracle gauze that costs as much as the boob job I never got. Almost.

I should be a tourist attraction, a guest star on Ripley’s Believe It Or Not or a featured act in Barnum and Bailey’s Side Show of Circus Freaks.

The whole thing sucks balls.

Totally off topic (sort of): have you heard about the mermaids? Actual mermaids. Barnum & Bailey’s claimed to have one in the 1920’s but the NYC warehouse in which it was stored burnt down in a terrific fire, three days prior to the mermaid’s grand debut– so no one believed it. There’s new scientific evidence (sound recordings and deep sea film footage too) suggesting that mermaids might well be an undocumented species. Honestly, look it up.

Anyway, I’m healing (which is wonderful) and finding encouragement in the most unexpected places. Prior to this infectious disease nonsense I planted fifty-eight random packages of flower seeds. You should see around my house now. A huge variety of flowers all standing at attention like some sort of triumphant reckoning with all the bad luck I’ve had. Hollyhocks and bright red sunflowers, snapdragons and zinnias and peonies and nasturtum and hundreds of others all defiantly sprouting up like a pat on the back, as if to say “Hey mama, it’s all good.”

The honeysuckle too. It’s taken upon itself to spread out like a dog in heat across the perimeter of our property. The boys LOVE this.

You can’t imagine how wonderful it smells here, sitting on the front porch drinking sweet tea and not smoking for a change, resisting the awareness of what horrific pain I’m in and simply feeling grateful to be alive.

It really is the little things in life that become the big things.

Now go check out the mermaids for yourself. 😉

The truth has waited long enough.

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I dedicate this to whom it belongs.

The swelter keeps a record heat this year
It’s a murderous spring
Losing itself between
Frost-bitten ices and heat-stroke orange
Blood orange
The kind sliced and placed perfectly in its pointless garnishing place

And here am I
Another token of your majesty’s invincibility
Should’ve gambled on the chance of it
Me, falling predictably apart at your treason’s start
When I die, will there be a heart
In you, will that be enough, your highness, to prove
That my faith could’ve gone on forever?
Will you sadden your face to suit the occasion?
Compassion, empathy, when in season or fashion
You, how you would just so happen
To keep coming around
Happen, always know where to be and when
Include us, if you will
Structurized memories and compromised plans
New age theories with their many hidden agendas

How do you keep up with yourself?

I once was one of the few, the only
Putting all my broken chips upon you
You, with your royal rule of the Universe
Your well-thought words
Which aid and abed
Each of your ulterior motives
Far too many to count
I was kept taught and rapt to them
To you
By denial of my angst and inner doubtings

Trust not the still and silent snake

And yet in my own transcendence
The Zen I developed before you ever came along
The enlightenment for which you can take no credit, master
I did. I tried to forgive you
Release my pain
Along with my poignant disbelief
To your many Gods,
Place the blame upon them
To make sense of the inconsistencies

I was once but a sperm
Cloaked in the scent of desire
Wanting, wanting
My genetic disposition
Of narcissism
Megalomania
Self-awareness, as you’d say

I was at fault, a Y chromosome too
Half false, half true
Rushing forth with my emotions to the egg
The ovarian safe haven
Where I planted myself
Made a home, painted the walls a new color
To call it my own
Nesting in the fertile soil; zygote or embryo
Which is it?
Surely as with everything you know
Everything about me
And it helps to see your talent in the art of public speaking
Nothing captures attention
Like the slack of a jaw

You are wrong, you are cruel, and you are good at what you do

The findings of these deficiencies
Collect into a grand criticism
A tide pulsing with the moon
Full, pain; the rare eclipse
As you
Have; refrain from being
The one thing that I could count on
Confide in

How is that for looking long and hard?
Does my self contempt suit you?

Nothing can see us
Quit so clearly

As betrayal

The Wild Path

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The mind runs like a mustang
Unbroken by the boundaries,
The bindings,
The bridle that cuts at the chaff

The chagrin woe
The steel plow
The oil drills, spilling in volcanous spewing

And like a different kind,
The same breed
But race horse
Fills the pocket stash

Greed, gleans the collected man into composure
The pasture from his birth to freedom day
Nothing there beyond will his eye know of

Sure, the grain chews greasy in texture
Prick precising
Divides the whole
In two unleveled halves

We are assigned
From birth
The have nots; the haves
The common stream
From which both drink
And share
The backwards flow
Ego; wrath

No beard on a mountain sings of hunger
No coin in the bank sings full

The stallion knows not of blue collars and class
His wisdom, either
Will not keep;
It’s perished just as soon
The moment’s passed

All the wild horses…

If Only For A Moment May I Touch The Wild Twist

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I stand alone upon the sentence of my grave
It keeps no form of weeping
No telepathic takings have their measure
No hush-hurries have their place
No one thing or soul is safe
If in reason-seeking came

Embers to be faced
From a fire which could not be traced
Stamped out
Pressed in around its edges
Told its name
Assigned its space
Dare we call Earth’s Mother
Tamed?

Here upon the wild froth
And crashing of its waves
There lies a subtlety
A saved and wretched madness
Unembraced
A lingered still breathing
Unlabored, though
If not in vain

Hopes collect in mass and come unkempt
Together, here remain
Tempt and torn
Undressed in haste
Of that which guiltless keeps the blame

Hard, unforgiving hands beat down
Of time
And laws of reason;
Soundness
And its often wake
Collapse upon the cleaved-leaning martyrdom kind

Not a one
Shall find complaint

Be stilled, unsorrowed, soothed

Like footprints
Be them far removed
Scattered in and off the path
Variations of a purpose
Deviated from degree

Still, the skilled wisdoms of the ancients unfortold
The blind–but not the sightless-heart would seek

Be it bound
To thee, in chains
To endless fuel
Of longing
For knowledge
And for innocence
Dichotomous belonging

Matrimony juxtaposed
Mortality in duty
Bind the seagull, searching seeking
To her own refusal shore
Emptied of her wanton sight
Unthieved unclaimed
Uncoward braved
Forevermore, Foreverstays
The treasure
And its troves untold
Or if at all, then too untake

She came–not once did hesitate–but crash arrived
In versions; sighs
The truth a disappointment
Perpetual, in nature

She was Compassion
Without permission
Sympathetic of all sakes
But came, she nonethelessing did
To have her bite
Her bitten dust
To taste
Its dew
The morning midnights
Too
A legacy, abate

Familiar should be as the gate
The worms shall have their meal

This of course, is what is meant

By patience, terms of virtue

Cyclical in terms of sense
In feel, it be serene
Portion filled divinity
The quiet keeping bliss

Simplicity reducing us
Duality, to this