Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
just how would our lives be
would peace and harmony be found
or war just like we see
perhaps those people who do not fit
would be shoved off the earth's edge
to fall into an endless pit
from which noone is dredged
Monday, December 29, 2008
both sides locked in an eternal battle, intertwined like two angry dragons, spiraling rapidly, to be crushed by the descent. a fall from which neither would get up.
where for every idea there was
room to differ, to disagree
no, you do not have to be me
we need to learn not to hate
before it is too late
la misma cosa
it was another fitful quasi sleepless night
her mind started blanking to reduce the din
keeping out trouble, not letting good in
Saturday, December 27, 2008
if you please
he cares if he hurts you
about as much as a sneeze
everything to him is play and fun
he keeps on playing
trying to get the damage done
no depth, no emotion
just perpetual motion
she did not know which way to go
she looked to her left, turned her head to the right
unable to move, deeply frozen by her fright
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
she knows that he will understand
her pain her sorrow, when she feels good
besides her quietly he has always stood
she hoped that someone would let her in.
it was lonely outside face pressed up against the glass
she hoped this sad feeling over her would pass
as she inched her way closer towards the door
she paused, should she go just a little more.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
on the holiday
noone called he stared at the phone
putting on another sweater
so he would not be cold
he wanted to get better
but he felt so old
why did his kids
not remember him
would they ever come and visit
before the lights went dim?
Monday, December 22, 2008
i closed my eyes
the air was warm, no acid rain
the ground was green
with plants and life
no war no strife
the animals lived well and free
what they were meant to be
no child cried from being abused
no man nor woman feeling misused
then i opened my eyes and could not erase
cold reality before my face
does someone really care?
im lost im scared nowhere to go.
so much snow in the air
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
people passed her by
why is this so? i was not told
she bowed her head to cry
Monday, December 15, 2008
the halls have ears
no one to see, noone at all
the wind was shattering as it blew
her mind was clattering
Saturday, December 13, 2008
hit her with the buckle
she knew her mother told her father, and would sic him on her, using the full force of her fury to work him up into a rage state like her own.
she was ordered to go to her bedroom. she could hear her mother's voice..."hit her with the buckle, hit her with the buckle, growing more intense with each utterance.
her father entered her room and closed the door. he ordered her to pull down her pants. she felt shamed, violated. her face reddened, her self dropped beneath the floor, with her pants and underwear. she could feel her father's eyes burning as they stared at her naked buttocks.
her mother continued her buckle mantra.
her father hit her with the belt, not the buckle, not particularly hard. she screamed and cried, hoping this would satisfy her mother's blood lust.
Friday, December 12, 2008
so far and yet so much further
heartbreak fueled by day dreams driven
of the world in which we live. tenderness and hope people will give
love to each other and to all living things, as bells of the holiday season rings
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
no refuge to run to
no weapons to throw
Monday, December 8, 2008
the winter cold
sadly waiting for summer to come
trees naked profiled against a gray sky
wind on her face is she starting to cry
lonely and huddled
emotions so muddled
Saturday, December 6, 2008
she looked at all the familiar shops. it was an effort just to focus on one particular thing, as she was still experiencing the spaciness caused by the anaesthesia. a fuzzy greyness enveloped her.
she felt like she would never get back home.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
she had spent most of her life alone, in both the literal and figurative sense. she knew the meaning of both being alone among a crowd of people and no phone calls alone. as much as she yearned for friendship, acquiring and maintaining it were so difficult for her.
she was "different", the worst case scenario for the school years. she watched her classmates mill by, conforming comfortably to some mysterious social code, which included her exclusion. she just lived each day, nose pressed to the cold glass.
she went through the rites of middle class adult passage...bad first marriage, dating, superficial female acquaintances. when she tried to convert the shallow into a deeper friendship, only hurt followed.
she remarried, to a warm, wonderful, loving man. this joy brought with it more social pressures,more potential rejection.
lonely was not just her middle name
it was her first and last
never in the game
Monday, December 1, 2008
my entire body seems to be adjusting to the empty space that the baseball sized tumor and the other removed parts once occupied. the incision pulls inwardly and outwardly, with every breath,movement, digestive rumble.
my usual insomnia only compounds the overwhelming exhaustion. the only good thing is that since i am home, not at work, i can nap.
the worst part of this whole scenario is being THAT aware of my body. no longer is it just the vessel that houses my essence, that i take with me every day, live with and not think about. it is constantly reminding me of its discomforts, frailties, its limits and the limits it puts on my intangible self
Saturday, November 29, 2008
anudda day like no udda
every day another chance
Thursday, November 27, 2008
no walking emotional planks
just glad to be living
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
her life had been a combination of adult comfort and luxury, coupled with unresolved angst over childhood misery and pain. this duo ran her life, and those around her, at times, into the ground.
the uncertainty that coursed through her young years resulted in an inordinate need for control in the years that followed. she never really felt good, as herself, unaware that this unhappiness was heightened by the control issue.
she had children, stunted adults trapped in self loathing and fear.
one of her children became ill, stirring up a maelstrom within her. never able to identify, sort out, or admit culpability, this translated into extreme anxiety. it was the child she felt the most ambivalence towards, and treated the most harshly, at times like a servant; to carry her shopping bags or serve at her dinner parties. the one who watched her high end self expenditure, with the occasional bargain bone hurled in her direction.
lost in this swirl of feeling, the woman reached her hand up, to that child, to save her.
Monday, November 24, 2008
she said, she said
in her mind, she watched the world run by her, carrying designer bags, wearing impossibly high designer shoes, as she plodded along in her sensible sneakers, though, of late, these aforementioned had taken on a much more upscale quality.
she had spent her entire adult life getting by. paying bills, choosing between food and make up...skipping a trip to the supermarket so she could afford an afternoon of movie and lunch with some female acquaintances. she noted quite clearly to herself that the friend concept was not embedded in this equation.
as she shook along with the train, she felt the old simmering resentment...how her struggling and sacrifices should not have been necessary, as she was a member of a relatively affluent family. however, they gave what they gave, which helped keep her afloat, but without a martini.
she again tamped down this entitlement, turning her head toward the window. it was growing dark. soon, that which she passed would no longer be visible
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
there could not be a better fit
she dreamed, she looked
it still did not seem real to her, the sort of pinchmyselfimdreaming reverie she had her entire life. although some of her furnishings were interspersed among his, this domicile still felt "not her own", but in a warm and comforting, i cant believe this happened to me, too good to be true way.
their whole courtship seemed like a dream. his goodness, kindness, acceptance of her as she was. hers of him... . their personalities flowed together softly, almost always parallel, on the same course, their hearts joined. hands held.
marriage only increased the joy they found in each other.
she did not want to lose this...this was a recurring theme for her innerdaylife. this time a reality nudged itself in the mix.
health, surgery. she had not yet left for the hospital but she focused intensely on coming home.
Monday, November 17, 2008
is the constant ticking of the clock
Saturday, November 15, 2008
the old soldier
he looked around, listening to the shadows. he had lost this final battle. he had approached this battle like all the others, with a staunch acceptance of the possibility of defeat, and a faith in the possibility of victory.
he knew that this was not his time. there was no longer a place in the leadership pavillion for the ideologies he espoused. he knew this upon entering the warzone. and enter he did, shoulders back, head up, prepared to dodge everything "they" threw at him.
he reflected on his most worthy opponent. there was a glory in conceeding to this man, who might be able to change the country, as he himself had wanted to do.
in this proud surrender, he did not see defeat, just a new order, time for him to move on.
he sat in his chair, stained and worn from many skirmishes, hands clasped together, head down in prayer.
Friday, November 14, 2008
keep to yourself your inner dealings
Thursday, November 13, 2008
where noone has to ask me why
a place to hide where i feel safe
from all the hurts that cut and strafe
she lived in this ignorance is/is not bliss state, as the day of her surgery hovered ever closer.
she thought about the procedure and its consequences . what mysteries would be uncovered,
how this would change the daily routines of what she knew as her life.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
each moment second whatever it gives
unsure of today
less sure of tomorrow
afraid of the past
just wanting to borrow
he would go to any length
to comfort, make her feel
she can cope with the real
in his sleep as he holds her tight
arms around reining in her fright
each time she cries
he erases all lies
she asks herself what good
does she do for him
as the night gets cold
and the sky grows dim
for him it is all in the giving
to be together revel in the living
a cure for winter solstice
no ice, no snow, no rain
just summer over again
Monday, November 10, 2008
he figured that since he preferred his vivid fantasy life, this was the perfect resolution.
his past few years were filled with tangible, palpable loss. of people who had impacted on him
deeply, perhaps who were even partly responsible for the undeveloped, twisted nature of his soul. the rest, (as all of us who are at least partly adult know) is up to us. this is what eluded him.
it was as if he were waiting for the proverbial magic wand, which never seemed to wander his way. to sit passively, hoping that somehow things would transpire and lead him...
hiding under her umbrella wishing she would get a chance
Sunday, November 9, 2008
not knowing what's in front of me
the next weekend will be the last
before my surgery is passed
i want to stay
not go away
life, how i love to be in it. this so simple yet profoundly beautiful morning routine.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
tommy had a dream
tommy covers his own ears to still his dream
tommy, torn between anger and sadness
his life stuck in limbo from his sons cruel madness
Friday, November 7, 2008
it is i and i feel alright
this is intoxication time
so i will write this little rhyme
thoughts of pain and surgery
are for now afar from me
though my mind turns to fuzz
a strong liquid solution
restores my constitution
the red tape of infirmity
the simple act of setting up surgery dates and pre-op appointments, while juxtaposing work schedules has become brobdignagian in nature. you are given a date then it is changed by the doctor's office. when you leave a message for more information, such as what time is the surgery, and what is the pre-op schedule, the simple courtesy of a reply is denied.
everything is a battle, and my inner troops are severly depleted.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
the negative, save my morale
this i will try as it will keep
my mind from inward voyage deep
outside our heads a world goes by
to keep up with it i have to try
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
could not be sated, even with food
did not improve the blues i feel
the fear, the care i need to heal
im stuck so deep in this morass
pushed here by a disease so crass
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
i want food
after procedure comes breakfast
and a much better mood
Monday, November 3, 2008
illness, its diagnosis, treatment, and how crappy the aforementioneds make you feel has a tendency to be quite all consuming. to avoid, or at least try to, avoid that pitfall, i strive to keep my normal routines...work, exercise, food and drink(well, not today) this white rabbit style ofbusyness sort of deflects the constant barbs of anxiety flung at me, by me.., my body.
how different my life has become, is still becoming. here i sit, focusing on every hopefully productive intestinal cramp. i am too congnizant of the body that contains me, and what is happening to it. it is no longer just skin encasing some mysterious working parts. it is not something that will never fail me, it is not a given, it is not infallible. it is not forever.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
together we made a new eggplant recipe, which we will try out on my brother and his lovely bride. then we will saunter off to a favorite local restaurant, where we will dine on what will be my last solid meal until tuesday afternoon.
my oncologist/surgeon wants all bases covered, or uncovered more accurately, before diving into my ailing innards. so monday afternoon the dreaded drink for the tuesday morning colonoscopy.
friday morning the doctor performed an in office biopsy, which could be aptly described as an effective way to obtain information, true or otherwise...this hurt. but it needed to be done. my pulse was 90 and bp 140/80, a bit nervous, eh?
i am trying to stifle the underlying panic that is bubbling close to the surface.
middle age is not for the squeamish.
Friday, October 31, 2008
my health problem
turned out to be
each step is syncopated
taking pieces out of me
Thursday, October 30, 2008
i am blessed that i have a man as good as my husband. my biggest fear is that somehow, due to this infirmity, i will lose him. the palbability of this fear, coupled with the abject dread of this as yet unidentified ailment...
i have experienced ALONE, the no phone calls, no social plans. walking my route, a watcher not a doer, tickets for the theatre, never in the cast...always in the shadows.
i had ventured out. in doing so i met my fella. how good, decent and loving he turned out to be was and is a total surprise. a chance well taken
Monday, October 27, 2008
a long time....i hope that those good people follow me from the soon to be extinct AOL journal to this site... it will be exciting to experience a new readership as well.
my life has had its moments. writing, editing, reviewing my feelings, all have helped enormously in the sorting out, stepping away process. it has allowed some much needed objectivity in. hopefully some growth has followed.
at this new juncture, i tremble at the feet of change. health issues have taken up alot of my awake(which is most of the)time. i work a precarious balance of innerlife, homelife, joblife, at the same time trying to keep my fears at bay. and bay they do, at the sun, at the moon....just at.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
i struggle not to jump ahead, to how this will change my life, how bad it could be, what will i lose? the unknown is beyond stressful and terrifying. but will the known be worse? in my layperson merck manual persona, i identifed the 11 out of 10 symptoms that i have of this disease.
i keep mantra-ing both the doctors...especially the second one whose "if it is the worst case scenario it is unbelievably early" statement. unbelievably early is what this cancer needs to be eradicated. i repeat to myself benign benign B9 B9, as if somehow this 6 centimeter invader can hear me. well attitude is everything, so it is said in the 21st century.
i still hear the wind, i never want to stop hearing the wind
swan song to aol off to google,what the hell
this blog is going
off to google
my heart is slowing
just hope you dont
abandon your search
and go to google
my heart besmirch
i do not want to make this move
but no choice given stay in the groove
a week from today
this will be far away
Thursday, October 23, 2008
der-election of duty
this one, not. this is about age, race, gender, social class, acquaintances, verbiage. these are the things our more than "four fathers" wished to avoid. they envisioned a nation of ideas, ideals, the pursuit of freedom, prosperity...a place in a world far larger than the one we now reside in.
we members of the baby boomer fraternity have been fortunate enough to see america at its height, and now have the dubious distinction of watching it slide down, as mimicked by the mercurial dow.
we stand at the polls forced to choose between a stubborn loose cannon, and a one dimensional wordsmith. one may push the red button, the other the red credo.
i did not sign on for this, nor did most americans...torn between the mindless villification of one man, and the blind adulation of another
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
i write this blog because i can
to be remembered for a good written word
to feel connected not be apart
to fill the void
inside my heart
Monday, October 20, 2008
an invite to all ye from AOL
that my stuff on blogger.com
you will read
if on google you decide to sign
you'll see many blogs
looking forward to seeing you then
"my heart" on google
Sunday, October 19, 2008
outwardly tame inside running wild
life to her is a state of peril
wanting in yet remaining feral
with or without sobriety
inside me lurking
this frightened child
who needs to shout
to rant to rave
to somehow shake
the fears and woes
that make her quake
however hard her way to vent
all that anger time misspent
Saturday, October 18, 2008
something burrowed someone blue
last night all that i have tried so hard to bury deep unearthed itself. the reality of what i am facing, the known and the unknown, stared right at me. i could not look, nor run, away. i cried for the first time since this nasty health episode began...the pandora's box sprang wide open, its snakes wriggling out. i fell asleep, the lid again closed, but not all the occupants went back inside. i could hear a faint hiss.
today i sit, drained. lost. sad. the rustlings of depression quite palpable.
Friday, October 17, 2008
hoping it is not too late
psychobabble live for each day
wanting the future
is my health in the way?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
someone old something new
the instructions arrived and i just stared at them, deer in the headlights style, my level of anxiety escalating.
i tried, i failed...don't believe in that old adage that trying means you did not fail, i failed, period.
days passed, efforts thwarted by some process i did not understand.
the light went on...i successfully transferred one of my blogs to this service. after several exercises in futility, i gave up trying to transfer the other. instead, i spent hours cutting and pasting preferred entries, or posts in blogger.comese, from this vanquished journal onto these pages...my poor husband felt neglected...let it be noted that inspite of my monomaniacal pursuit, our dinner was delicious...well, edible anyway and we both lived to tell.
change can be good change can be bad, change can be none of the above...but change is always change and always inevitable.
a metaphor for life and hope
though for a few days there
i felt like a dope
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
there is no monotony
in my cacaphony
every day passes same old shit
as i get older i do not get bolder
still need to have that sane
one man strong shoulder
i am faustian in my hopeless desire to grab the clock and cajole, or if need be, force those hands to turn backwards....i ache for the self confidence that, it i had had it years ago, perhaps i would be the voice on countless cds, the symbol of humane action perhaps.
but i am, and grateful to be such, but i am as i have, and have not, done.
....,faces rushing by, trees aching to bloom...there is a heightened sense of the electricity that is life.
and an overwhelming dread of the inevitable empty that we all will be part of...my eyes thirst for all they see...as if engulfing visual images may grant some sort of immortality.
even the depressions...symptoms, albeit unpleasant, of life.
no beach, no sounds
no seagull flock
the wind is broken
loud and harsh
my life a token
on this marsh
the warmth the party guests had for each other, that warmth that comes with prolonged acquaintanceship and consanguinuity, things that i am no part of...
it was like live theater, and i, an invisible audience.
the need to feel a part of something...not diminished by time or emotional exhaustion.
a child inside me running...away, toward....just aimlessly running, never stopped nor stopping...
my hair's a mess
i'm quite a sight
as i exercise patterns past
wondering if my new life will last
when the rug sprawling under my feet will call
as i tumble, take a fall
no answers given
the trial of denial and forgiveness
her sad song tones
as i rejoice
i never heard her lovely voice
when i was young and had a choice
the life she never had a chance to lead
i lost in my emotional greed
she died with all ears around unhearing
alone as her darkness was nearing
can i myself learn to forgive
to tell her i love her though she no longer live
although too late to say goodbye
and to ashamed to sit and cry
to my grandmother may her peace be found
this is how all living things live, in ways that correspond to their needs. it is all about making a living, be it in twisted steel spires or on the savannah, everyone has to eat,rest between kills, reproduce, establish a territory and do whatever it takes to protect it.
whether clad in brooks brothers or fur and claw, all creatures must venture out or die, some dying as they do so.
we humans mistakenly perceive that the complexities of our survival render us superior. where is there any superiority in corporate backbiting, betrayal? where is there superiority in mass annihilations of habitat and those we perceive as different,,,ergo a threat to our own fragile existence. passing emotions and people around as cavalierly as passing a joint.
the miraculous power of the little white lie
i think about my mother, in her early 80's, body stricken with various age related maladies....eyes dark and twinkling, the mischevious, rebellious little girl trapped in the twisted wreckage of life and age.
i think of both of the above, what was and is my mother and what isnt yet the story behind the title
i have begun a subtle, empathetic secret voyage, with the mother i never really knew, who never really knew, nor accepted, me...but how does one ever accept someone they have relegated to a stranger, bound by their own controlling notions, blind to what is standing in front of them
the run away of intoxication
the welcome dullness it has made
on life's unending
too sharp blade
between self loathing
and self worth
talents real and dreams perceived
its not too late
to be received
he sleeps i listen while he snores
words were spoken feelings torn
i lie here tired, lost and worn
another day will soon play out
outside i smile inside i pout
integrity and its fragile maintenance
this juxtaposition of maintaining my integrity, ergo to earn the respect for others, versus keeping quiet, in order to avoid conflict and disapproval, has tormented me my entire life. i spent years taking all types of emotional abuse and nonsense...which has taken an enormous chunk out of an already moth-eaten self esteem.
each time i take this necessary step, i do not get more acclimated to the process, but it has become much easier in its execution.
the fallout remains to be experienced
the little terrier in the cage
she entered a room with larger cages. an employee of the shelter approached her. he asked her what type of dog she was interested in. she replied that she really liked shepherd mixes but at this time was not in a position to adopt one.
he advised her just to at least look at the little terrier mix in the next pen. she approached the enclosure and was greeted by a sad, shaggy grey face looking at her in an almost beseeching way.
she bent down, making clicking sounds. the little dogs ears suddenly perked up, his demeanor completely changing. the droopy face was awash with excitement. she remained at the cage for what seemed at once forever, and at the same time, not enough.
the shelter employee approached her again, as he watched her interacting with the dog. he asked her if she was interested in adopting him. she slowly turned around, her depression becoming once again a dark cloak around her. under her breath she barely muttered that she lived in a no pet building, trying to hide from the disappointment on his face as she responded.
she hastily left the shelter.
years passed, some shrouded. the homeless terrier remained in a cage deep within her, the door ajar.
to my mother
as her husband watched his old friends die
she felt his pain when he was near
but when he was not her biggest fear
the years they spent what they went through
would soon be gone as if noone knew
wisdom and the ever present anxiety
where it gets dicey is in the accumulated wear and tear of daily stress, that which is internalized and not immediately felt. i spend most weekends juxtaposing much needed downtime with the chores that cannot be completed during the week.
i get home from work tense and frazzled. i exercise almost immediately in order to dull the edge.. afterwards its time to prepare dinner. the edge is not as sharp, but it is still there. i do not phone friends anymore, as i often did when i was younger. i seek brain quiet, peace from the external, which is within my control.
sleep is a precious, hard to reach commodity. only on weekend do i manage to capture that which is so elusive to me during the week.
the 9 to 5 in the mid to late 50s takes a lot more ouf of me, especially since this is not a passion or career, it is strictly for economic survival...no glory no goodness.
just the thought of entertaining creates anxiety. it did so when i was young, but with youth comes an internal energy reserve, the bounce backedness that seeps out insidiously as greater knowledge and wisdom, seep in.
frayed and fatigued is what i have become.
life mismanagement 101..i
the reality is that, at 56, i am exactly where i was at 35...except with cellulite and wrinkles as souvenirs. dead end job scenario, but at this age with much less reserve to handle the stress and frustration, magnified by the no way out situation i am in.
at this stage of life, feeling crappy is much more intense and greater in frequency than in the 30s and 40s. not being able to stay home when feeling ill is just a cruel reminder of the rampant mismanagement which characterizes my tenure so far on this sometimes disagreeable planet.
i long to have the option to retire, knowing that i would only be able to stay home and "do nothing" for a short while...it is all about options, choices, not being forced...freedom from being trapped in this assembly line like lift style...same #$@# every day......
doors being held open for me(please note the slightly pitying look on the openers face, perhaps associating me with some long last graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand mama.
seats on buses sometimes being vacated(except by men of certain chauvinist ilk who would not even get their arses up for americas top model)
today a young man placed an obstruction by the elevator door to keep the elevator on the floor while he dropped something off. i rushed to the elevator and the young fella went oops and removed the impediment. probably thought i was running late for the funeral home or the plastic surgeon.
then what was once perceived as not cute and obnoxious(as in being too smart for your age) is now considered to be something miraculous( as in how can someone that old be that smart?)
other erratic behaviors once frowned upon are now regarded with tolerance...the temper tantrum once attributed to pms and not tolerated is now attributed to the ravages of age.
it is as if to say much less is expected us....poor souls....they should only know...this is their future and it is grim
the malignancy of distrust
these cracks are not always blatant. most are invisible to the naked eye, doing their work. insidiously.. they can appear at any time, and if not addresssed, the cumulative result is disaster. it is much harder to repair major leaks than minor trickles.
the challenge is to accept that these flaws exist and confront them head on, not waiting until that which is amassed becomes irreparable. in order to do so, one must take a long look at the big picture and ones culpability, or lack of it, in each situation.
middle age is all the rage
never thought i'd see this stage
wisdom without the strength to use it
what else is new
we all go through it
the glory and the game
i was in the kitchcn, watching this annual spectacle, as usual wishing i was part of, not apart from it
annoumcers picked their favorites, as cameras scanned the audience.
in a time frame that was at once far too short yet seemed forever, the long awaited outcome.....
a big brown stalward colt triumphed, a fiery filly fell.
perhaps it was inbreeding, the nature of the track..or just being amongst the boys.
this filly had heart and she ran it out.. im sure it will be said that she died doing what she loved,, and would have wanted it this way....we cannot presume to place human interpretations on equine emotions.
but she had heart, and i suspect ran even better as her fragile ankles began to fail....
there is a lesson here, after i stop crying, perhaps i will find it
what is it about birthdays? they are just another facet of a contrived system of keeping time...juxtaposing years as some sort of standard...all that said, i have the nasty habit, year after year, of making a fuss over mine and those of the people i love.
this year is no exception...i started making noise about this one late last month,. making sure anyone within earshot would have no excuse to forget it....yep fifty six with cake and ail....
when we are young, birthdays represent gifts and attention. as we get more chronologically mature, in the 20s and 30s, it represents more gifts and attention, this time on a more costly and lavish scale...
the big four-oh and birthdays turn into milestones, some of which we have stubbed our toes on.
the 50's...middle aged crisis and estrogen withdrawal...birthdays being reminders of dreams not chased, or those chased, not realized...wrinkles, sagging...the depravity of gravity.
my parents are in their 80's. birthdays are quite a two sided rapier...they represent the frightening descent their bodies are suffering, the inevitable direction they are heading...and they are milestones of survival....over kids, financial woes, health woes, ecah other...all the projectiles that life throws.
i revel in each day i have the luxury of two living parents...and each day i have the luxury of....especially now, as i have been blessed with a wonderful man to share life with. someone who loves ME, not his expectations or illusions about, ME...a friend, a partner...
every day when i wake up, i look at his face, still not believing this has happened to me.still in the pinch me im dreaming phase....wishing we met years before, holding onto every moment.
at the risk of sounding old fashioned and beyond corny, this relationship has made me appreciate every facet of living, the trees, the seasons...sights and scents...music...these for granted experiences now have an almost dayglow quality to them.
tomorrow i turn a year older. interesting phrase...turn a year older...this is not a turn, rather it is a one way street from which there is only one exit...i am learning that the trip is everything...that every day is a destination reached.
today the sky is bursting with sunshine, the temperature is on a definite upswing. i, on the other hand, am still feeling the chilly clouds. a perceived slight has sent me inward, pulling far away from the people around me.
sometimes it is good to withdraw...the proverbial cave is not for men only.. women need to heal, too. shutting out all periphery except that which is necessary to function(as i am at my desk at work so got to stay somewhat in this world) seems to naturally mend those broken inner fences(and defenses).
it all gets down to middlangst...when more time is behind than is in front...shouldacouldawoulda-itis...i know intellectually that this is a total waste of energy and priceless time....the distance between intellect and feelings is so hard to bridge.
being 18 thru 25, young, energetic, filled with ideals...ideals about a world you know nothing about. fresh from college perhaps, a recent escapee from your parents home...the world is a new place, filled with opportunities and mystery.
thirty and a tad wiser, bills, you are a parent, responsibility....now the world has a different hue than that rose colored adventure you thought it would be.
yes i was 18...and wanted to vote, yes i was 21 and did not....
here i sit, 56....lived through korea(in utero),viet nam, kuwait and now the irag fiasco. yep i would like leader..but what all this seasoning and wrinkles have taught me is that character is what should lead...not pretty,, empty rhetoric delivered in an empassioned way...
proof, someone who has definitive ideals and has lived by them..aka john mccain.
\yes he has the scary pit bull tenacity and a temper too. but he has lived in knowledge, not words carefully crafted by a wily speech maker.
he is the real deal.
this is not about race or gender...this is about the very survival of america
my ideas i commit to poems or prose
is anyone reading heaven knows
watching the people inside pass
smiling, laughing, walking around
as her spirits ran aground
i rolled them once, i rolled them twice
which way they fall may not suffice
just having them is sometimes nice
the greatest generation did not know about cell phones. they did not know about email. nor did they know the meaning of bling and probably would not have appreciated the concept. not when they were 20 somethings, digging through dirt, dodging bullets, just trying to stay alive, for reasons some understood and some didn't.
they fought on enemy soil. far from home. far from the comforts they so desperately needed. with men barely they knew, against those they didnt. each second brought terrors, that thanks to them, we have not yet had to comprehend.
their time is almost over, one by one, they leave this earth, each of us their living legacy.
but will we forget? because we were not encased in their mud, drowned in their pain?
the air is stale but never still
i drink so i dont feel
so i dont know what is real
problems to work on, wounds that are sutured, much more behind me than in the future.
tomorrow i'll rise if i am lucky, trying to smile, hopefully plucky
sometimes i question why i try
things that happen no explain
enough to drive myself insane
people kill without a reason
one bad look the cause for treason
in the name of deity
wipiing out the you and me
who can stop i cannot tell
hurry or else all will fell
like the trees in nuclear winter
left alone a naked splinter
does it exist i am not sure
with their families or old school clique
behavior reverts back and oh so quick
roles people played re-acted out
did they forget what life's about
filthy rich and twenty three
i would spend my days in frolic
as a part time alcoholic
use every second that i can
working full time on my tan
not a worry not a care
except for the roots of my young hair
not a spider vein in sight
staying up and partying all night
but im locked up in that cage
known as female middle age
but what is it i am fighting?
what is in your eyes
do you want to kiss me
what is the surprise?
the happy ever after
so tired of hearing pain
over and over again
she wonders if the women before her share their bed, when he touches her, as he dreams. she wonders how much of his mind they occupy, in his private moments, what regrets, grief he still experiences.
and what of his heart?. are they still there too, shoving her into a little chamber?
she thinks about men in general, are they all from the steven stills love the one your with school of living? and if so, as long as it works for them, that is ok.
but what of the "one your with" , me, she asks herself. where do i fit in, or do i? am i just a little bandaid on a big wound that has not healed?
will i ever occupy the center chamber?:will i ever feel i do, if i did?
with the power of a toxic potion
it eats up your life every day
pushing aside only the good in its way
all consuming until nothing is left
on the sidewalk alone and bereft
he has given me a home
and he understands
of hatch my wrinkles before the count
such a predicament i am in
as the lines and creases mount
the entire process has left me vexed
but now it seems i have succeeded
although some valium i needed:)
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
i sit in fear of what will be
what is wrong
what will become of me
which is worse i shudder to think
the suspense of this
will it make me sink
or will the known trump
that which is not
here i sit thick in the plot
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
LET US HOPE THE BAILOUT PLAN OF CHOICE
WILL REALLY HELP, NOT MAKE MATTERS WOICE
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
the little daily everythings
the jokes we share
secret songs we sing
the private words between us only
so even when we are apart
we are never lonely
this is intimacy and i know why
it is the love never spared
between you and i
no more will i languish
in vainglorious anguish
it is so good to be alive and real
touching, seeing, being what i feel
there is poetry in emotion
no magic potion
just keeping on living
blessed by each day
you never know when
it will be taken away
Monday, September 29, 2008
i bitch and moan it could be worse
i am well enough to write this verse
there is no other hand to hold like his
so warm so strong so good
holding together under fear
wishing that they could
keep each moment make it last
only the good seems to go too fast
the safest place without a qualm
hearts together palm to palm
Friday, September 26, 2008
oh and did i mention
the rumored 4th dimension?
in an attempt to restore order to disorder
i have broken this all down into phases. first, you have to survive the womb and all the external forces that assail it, then you have to be born, at the right time, in the right way, from the right womb...then you have to survive childhood diseases, microbial or those induced by man...then there is teenage and adolescent self dissolution and destruction...then there are the random acts i.e. the runaway mac truck, terrorized airline, inflamed ex lover, the mid 20's thru late 30's thing....
then, middle age and all the neoplastic invasions it may imply..
those who have successfully dodged all of these obstacles are relegated to the various insults hurled at them by old age and all its complications.
not to be continued...unless you subscribe to quantom physics....
if you dont get a slap
you will make the last lap
she struggled as the little girl inside her wriggled
she was never carefree, never giggled
a childhood filled with isolation
followed by adolescent dissipation
wanting to be her as she never was
more than what she did not, or what she now does
staring at the hour glass and the sand
cannot turn it over with her own hand
the little girl was lost at sea
caught up in "what will become of me"
the time just passed, she unaware
lost in her sadness. empty stare
now every second, hour, minute
she wants her life, wants to be in it
no longer a watcher at the side
wary of incoming tide
afraid she can no longer run her battery
as she realized there is more to life than flattery
she does want to end before her life begin
tired of losing, it is time to win
Thursday, September 25, 2008
i watched the man who loves me sleep
he is so still, with dreams so deep
his plans in life most tossed and broken
such hurt so real yet never spoken
i want to bring him only good
to take away all pain withstood
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
my mind is adrift
in need of anchor
fears i cannot sift
but without rancor
they lay intertwined, wrapped tightly around each other. the night was cool, a soft breeze caressing them.
they breathed in sync, trying to be one. as near as their bodies were, they felt it was not close enough. a soft light touched them. they kissed gently.
their passion quenched, they luxuriated in their love
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
i try not to think of the time i have wasted
all the joys in life i have never tasted
Monday, September 22, 2008
i have decided to drop doom and gloom from my personal attitude arsenal. it is no good for the people around me, and is not exactly beneficial for me either.
the waiting period is very difficult, the mind wanders through dark, twisted, forests.
what this turns out to be, time will surely reveal...i have no control over that i can only hope for the best with an eye on the worst, just in case....
life throws cannonballs in our path. the trick is in the navigation.
full speed ahead.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
i would like to write a little poem
about my life about my home
but i am so afraid to lose it
having waited all my life to choose it
a love i thought i would never find
by looking forward not behind
imploring not now dont take it away
so much right here i want to stay
i waited wallowed suffered and cried
at times gave up, never tried
but now his love gives me the strength
it is up to g_d to give me the length
it was almost the official first day of autumn, festooned in summer like warmth. people walked by, speaking in soft voices to each other. it seems that weather like this elicits its own kind of warmth from those out enjoying its glory.
there were sounds of musical cacaphony, as different bands played simultaneously, oblivious to each other, playing as loud as they could.
vendors did what vendors do...some soft sell, some hard, hoping to catch more than the eye of the strolling passersby. dogs everywhere, in every permutation.
in this happy chaos, she slowly went, stopping occasionally to look at little animal statues. unable to focus, aimlessly drifting.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
blues are so blue reds are so red
why did i get lost
inside my own head
Friday, September 19, 2008
the trees are so green the sky so bright
she would never take for granted the day or night
her vision had altered
but her life had not faltered
she would keep going while hopefully growing
the roses lined up for her to smell
rocks in her way...no trees to fell
another day dealing with how "this thing" will change her life forever. her eyes greedily took in everything. she thirsted to see more, dreading the dark that could overcome her, take life away from her, which she so valued.
she wanted to keep a positive attitude, but did not want to be jolted if the outcome of her testing was dire. each day would now have its own defintion. no longer blending aimlessly into another.
her approach...as much laughter as possible, infusing both of them with hope.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
the turn worms
a bump, or more accurately, a suspicious cyst in the road...she struggled to gulp down all the projectionesque bleak scenarios.
for her, but most of all, for him
he listened to her as she enumerated the too many missteps and wrong turns in her life. her voice was at times soft and wavering, at other times harshly agitated. she detailed a life of dreams not chased, questions not answered or not even asked, disappointment in others and disappointment in herself.
it was this self- attack that seemed to upset her the most. he told her not to be so hard on herself, as everyone misjudges, including him. he held her hand firmly.
she nestled into his shoulder as he embraced her.
the night was warm and comforting for them both
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
the next day she decided would not be more of the same. she felt the need to alter a part of her etched in routine. doing so gave her the illusion of reaching out of the small, tight box that she used to contain herself. but was it only an illusion?
maybe it was the spector of illness that pushed her, or the relentless forward moving clock. whatever it was, she knew she had to expand the area she moved in, in order to move at all.
she was enveloped in fear of a most generalized nature. however encroaching in this broad based anxiety was an image of herself, very old and incapacitated, looking back at an inert life and railing at her inertia. lost and broken.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
she sat, bundled within herself, in a pile of nervous apprehension. she had started to experience a type of physical discomfort she thought she had escaped years before...she contained herself while ruminating over the possible sinister diagnoses.
fear tried to throttle her, but she managed to escape from its grip, at least for now. she had to stop her mind from generating the projected scenarios...she reminded herself of that proven all purpose one day at a time mantra as the persistent discomfort hammered at her.
she read up on the most dire of possiblities and the various treatments. knowledge is not always a good thing...especially when one does not really have it. so she closed the website to write, consolidate the experience and read it back.
in this time of fiscal unrest
how can someone do their best
wanting to publish this poetry/prose
will someone want it
Sunday, September 14, 2008
she sat, not quietly, on the computer. staring at the screen, waiting for words to come. her physical discomfort seemed to take over the usual mental unrest. she continued typing whatever words reached her fingertips. she reminded herself that her particular brand of creativity was best fueled by unhappiness, be it in the present or from the unresolved past. this was something she probably shared with many other people. the thought that she shared something with other people pleased her. but why this?
Friday, September 12, 2008
do you want to be loved like a love story
words of passion in all their glory
believed in not doubted
your talents not crowded
for your merits rejoiced
revelling in ideas you have voiced
this is voyage to the surreal
because we all know this is not the deal
i feel like he does not trust me'
like he is always trying to bust me
he hangs on every word i say
afraid that i will go away
she found herself in remembrance...of wounds inflicted but not healed
of issues, conflicted yet not congealed
looking backward to look ahead
wishing to put the pain to bed
she stood in front of the mirror, naked in its full context. the reflection was of a young, lithe yet curvy woman...a shapely body most women would envy.
yet he cheated. she stood and stared at her bareness. what am i missing? what is it that he does not want nor see? why?
many years later, she understood.
the little girl
the little girl went into the bathroom. she tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting this moment to be discovered. she turned on the light and stood in front of the mirror.
she saw a face, a pretty face...but it seemed noone else saw this. she looked again. the reflection was still pleasing to her eye.
she thought of her mother, forever, it seemed, talking about all the pretty girls in the neighborhood, never including her on this list.
she heard her mother's shrill voice, summoning the family to breakfast. the pretty girl was gone. she turned off the light, then slumped slowly down the stairs.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
sometimes i look at the choices i make
trips i did not take
again i wrestle and rail at the years
wasted in sadness, gripped in great fears
do i choose to sit on this rock
my excuse to curse at the clock?
perhaps my fear is of success
and how to wear this new, untorn dress
perhaps i look at myself too much
has this become a new sort of crutch?
life at times an indecipherable dream
afraid to wake up unable to scream
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
the little girl and the kitten
she herself felt lost and small
as if noone saw her at all
she found a kitten alone outside
then brought it home so they could hide
to her room she snuck it in
and tucked it softly under her chin
so warm and cozy against her face
for once she felt she had a place
the next morning brought her mother's roar
she could not keep the kitten anymore
railed her mother throw it out
didnt not care how it was tossed about
so the little girl teary, no shoes on feet
carried the baby across the street
left it at her neighbors door
rang the bell
then was no more
Monday, September 8, 2008
as i strive to get used to the skin i am in
i wonder why it is still so thin
a furtive glance even the slightest slight
will make me toss and turn all night
at my age you think i would be used
to being hurt or perceived misused
instead of getting acclimated
i just feel so alienated
sometimes at the verge of tears
keeping heartbreak in arrears
cannot let my own humanity
end up detrimental to my sanity
Sunday, September 7, 2008
it was another glorious sunday at the beach. the breeze was quite accomodating, making their boardwalk stroll seem shorter. they held hands, their bodies touching at the arms and shoulders, feet in unison. people walked by, most either smiling or laughing. children ran ahead of their adults stopping to look back from time to time. feeling reassured, they darted ahead again
the seagulls flew lower than usual, taking full advantage of the breeze, hovering happily, while occasionally dropping a gift onto an unsuspecting beachcomber. geese and gulls mingled peacefully on the sand.
they approached the railing to look at the ocean. the wave surges were fierce, white caps breaking forcefully along the shoreline. their hands remained interlocked, their bodies brushing against each other.
they walked down to the water. people everywhere revelled in this late summer bounty.. children, teenagers, adults...in all shapes and permutations, united in appreciation of nature's untameable beauty.
the day before was stormy, very stormy, this day was calm with a kinder wind. the ocean still raged, only hinting at the potential of its full fury.\
they stood at the water's edge, breathing in this luxury, luxuriating in each other
Friday, September 5, 2008
here i sit in bravado bluster
so in need of courage to muster
always ran and did not try
afraid to fall afraid to cry
did not reach out as feared rejection
too involved in self inspection
did not feel i was advantageous
lack of self esteem might be contagious
all this time i hid my humor
feeling like some unwanted tumor
now i must try to move by an inch
keep on going even if i flinch
she closed the door and walked into her parents apartment. standing in the foyer, she watched them in the kitchen. these two small, feeble people bustled about, clinging to every movement they were still able to do. they worked together, clad in their color compatible aprons, immaculately dressed underneath.
she watched them as they are, remembering them as they were, strong, tough, able to generate great fear in her and her brother, which lingered to this day.
their stature was greatly reduced.but not their posture nor their posturing.
she felt them fading. their ability to take care of themselves would probably be coming to an end sometime in the near future. they, who had exercised such control over everyone in their perceived domain, were slowly losing control over their bodies, and would be dependent on others, surrendering even more of that precious control. a frightening scenario for her as well.
her long simmering anger dissipated into a gentle empathy for the fragile humanity before her.
she entered the kitchen, kissing each one softly, then sat down for dinner
for her, the night turned out to be another tossing and turning experience. her mind raced in all directions, never staying in one place long enough to resolve anything. the crickets outside serenaded her.
the clock inched forward,darkness gradually became light. it was time to get out of bed to start another mindless day. she stumbled into the bathroom. she stood in front of the mirror, splashing cold water on her face. the one looking back at her was fatigued and puffy. she reached for the bevy of undereye concealers and camoflauge she would apply later.
every morning she rose to this routine she counted down the "wake ups" until the weekend. this was the last for this week. she would share her countdown with the bus driver, who appeared to have the same approach to rutville as she
Thursday, September 4, 2008
the rutting reason
a rut is condition that could be defined
as doing something that drives you out of your mind
over and over like a good dog rover
feeling fit so you heel and sit
stuck in a place you dont want to be
because you need to do so financially
bored and distracted the day seem so protracted
wishing you were that man in the cape
so you could affect a speedy escape
what would you do, make pottery
if you won the lottery?
her eyes are open but her lids are shut
whatever put her in this rut
as she sits at her desk pounding on the puter
wishing she could do what would really suit her
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
another night she sits at home
she found the time to write this poem
the day was hectic uninspired
she is so worn she is feeling wired
head is aching eyes are burning
no deeper thoughts, nor secret yearning
exhaustion has her overwhelmed
this tired soul sitting at her helm
not wanting to genuflect
so she creates this poem
with what are her inner workings
and the questions ever lurkiing
the sky was a little darker than it was the last week, she noted as she left her apartment building. this was another reminder of the unremitting dark and cold that would take seige for months.
she walked hurriedly toward her breakfast spot, as she had done countless times. she felt frozen, yet saw life rushing past her. other early risers bustled by on foot, some in cars, just going, no peripheral vision, just focused on their destination. no stopping to smell the roses, but perhaps trampling any that might get in their way.
her path crossed two acquaintances, all nodded then kept on going.
so this was that life of quiet desparation that her father told her most people lived. he conveyed that acceptance of this was the only way to be comfortable on this earth. part of her felt that accepting this slow, dull rush to the grave was a form of defeat. a square peg on a round planet indeed i am, she thought.
that night she enjoyed a rich, dream filled sleep. as she slowly got out of bed, she tried to remember the dreams that were so vivid as they occured. she could not.
she looked around the dark room, lit only by the time on the cable box and the soon to detonate alarm clock. she rushed to turn it off, as she did not want to disturb the man sleeping next to her.
her feet hit the ground barely walking. she made her way to the kitchen to perform the automatic pilot routine she knew too well. she thought of the man still at rest in bed, and yearned to join him, to cuddle in his arms.
another day began...she reminded herself that this was a blessing indeed, then returned to her usual early am grousing.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
the person on the other end of the line gibbered on and on about the usual complaints that went along with her job. she felt irritated and had to hold back, as she almost answered him in a cross manner. she reminded herself that her life, her feelings, were not his fault. she resolved his problem and went onto the next scenario, always trying to extinguish the spark before it burst full flame.
there were times she wanted nothing more than to shout at the whining person on the other end of the line...listen buddy this is not life and death, the only thing that is life and death IS life and death, however she held her tongue. after all she needed this job a lot more than this job needed her...ever aware of the noone is indispensable syndrome.
the next few phone calls were minor skirmishes, no collateral damage, no working lives lost.
the day dragged on. she found herself again looking out the window, reflecting on the myriad of wrong turns that landed her in this predicament. no life skills/decision making gps was available and never would be.
she picked up the small, slightly scratched mirror in her desk drawer, gazing at the face gazing back at her, looking for a trace of hope and optimism in the.glimmer of her eyes. or maybe that just was her lens implant.
she knew that in there, somewhere, the little girl who almost ceased dreaming, still had a voice that needed to be heard.
she sat, staring out the window, not at anything in particular, just staring...the blue sky was illuminated by the beckoning sunshine. there were trees, still green but touched with shades of yellow. change was in the air. she breathed it in as she walked to the bus stop early in the morning.
she watched the people milling about outside, thinking they were so lucky not to be trapped indoors, as she was, doing something that her circumstances deemed necessary but was so not in her heart to do.
many autumns had passed through her life. she was still wallowing in her predicament.
there were times when she merrily skipped through her days, deep feelings staying deep, where they could not do her any harm.
and there were times, like these, when they surfaced, along with the requisite hand in hand self pity and anger. time was snarling at her. it could bite at any moment. she wanted to do something before it was too late, but what, was she too old?
the phone at her desk rang shrilly. she turned her head away from what lay outside the window. back to dealing with what was enclosed behind it.
some days are long some days are short
time is too hard to define
some days i wish i could abort
while wishing others would stay online
over this i have zero control which vexes and disturbs
filling my inner soul and life with echoes and reverbs
Monday, September 1, 2008
i try to write most every night
but sometimes ideas elude
at times my minds not feeling right
and it will not collude
as she sat on the beach, she turned her head, taking in all that was around her. her brother and his wife lay close by, wrapped up in each other and the beauty of this day. a little further down, a small dog flirted with the sea, running up to it, then running backwards as the water approached him.
a father and son fished together, reeling in one small silver fish after another, childlike glee on both their faces.
lying besides her, the man she loved placed his hand on hers. she turned towards him, their eyes locked in their smiles
Saturday, August 30, 2008
when will he let go
i do not know
he "writes" the poems because he holds my hand
he has given me a home
and he understands
confusion reigning must get out
cannot be quiet cannot shout
an inner riot
living in a pout
i would like to create a little poem
that says it all, not in a tome
that expresses how i feel
what is imagined what is real
what has not been spoken waiting unsaid
swirling around my heart and head
can this be done remains a mystery
as each new day becomes a history
living faster than i can write
the blur that makes the day the night
i shall continue as long as i live
my words the best things i can give
Friday, August 29, 2008
she checks her email trying to find out
what is up and what is about
to fill the void her life has created
friends cannot be replicated
empty words give her a connection
an escape or cause for reflection
her feet redux
her feet stood still in the path they made
half in the sun half in the shade
surrounded by sounds by human voices
what were they thinking were they mulling choices
children running just to run, the best reason
trying to steal the last part of the season
cars flying by what is their rush
time is fast enough in its lightspeed crush
leaves wind bristling joyfully green
knowing soon they will not be seen
with or without her this she knows
something comes while something goes
her feet had walked this sidewalk paved
where sadness dwelled her life was saved
she was 15 the ground was hot
lying ahead, she hadnt read the plot
concerned with truth lost in her youth
the years brushed by, they tinged her face
as over and over she walked this place
she knew the park in both its light and dark
but through the years other feet had tread
some still living some long dead
the sidewalk looked tired in greyness fade
so many lives upon it played
at times i partake of a nip of rum
as it blots out that sense of glum
but standing behind every mellow buzz
there lurks the is with its friend the was
Thursday, August 28, 2008
sometimes a poembyte i will write
on topic heavy to keep it light
a word or two can say much more
than tens of thousands sure to bore
dont want to suffer a recession
in important word expression
the little girl revelled in what she found
afraid that it would run aground
what could she say to describe him
except before all lights were dim
sifting through emotional archives
she sat still and mulled
why some memories were sharp
while others were dulled
there were entire pages
blank without a word
she passed through all her stages
not a memory sound heard
was it because with time softness settles in
or is it facing truth would cause too much chagrin
was what she was still running from
a source of liberation
or would its hard uncovering
be cause for much libation
would she ever know
would it help her grow?
the water tapped rythmically against the boat, as hungry gulls scoured the water for prey. the sun, in its gentle splendor, blanketed all it purveyed with its warmth. the breeze tickled and teased, part balmy and part hinting of the autumn chill to come.
for her brother, this was the one place he could really be. he revelled in sharing this joy with anyone receptive, especially with his sister and her husband, who seemed to appreciate it most.
she lay back on the deck, feeling as if all her stress had been and was no more . she watched as her brother and his brother in law navigated the boat. it was a most primitive bonding...men, the sea, the air...
her inner world was at peace...the only movement the waves, and the love
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
if animals ruled how would it be this question often comes to me
dogs would want peace to leave things alone
just give them some food, a lap and a bone
cats would want playtime to romp and to stalk
we would have to be careful to watch where we walk
birds would be busy, smart and alert
keeping us in a tizzy, never inert
but would there be war
no not anymore
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
angel, sue et al
today i feel like i can soar
my words have reach, they touch
i dont feel so isolated any more
well at least not that much
for you who read my thanks indeed
i am young and i am old
i do both of them at once
i am shy and i am bold
i am smart and am a dunce
where did i get this prediliction
for such a human contradiction
Monday, August 25, 2008
all is quiet i am tired and worn
not exactly happy but neither forlorn
just sitting in limbo alert and yet sleepy
my thoughts not akimbo nor am i weepy
idling to rest all that needs to be rested
ready to fight inner foes to be bested
Sunday, August 24, 2008
why is there such a dearth
of any good news on this earth
every day its people dying
children alone, families crying
what ever happened to peace and love
the proverbial fist in a velvet glove
is it because it is not in style
gone the way of that :)empty smile
and what ever happened to a friendly word
is it now with the dodo bird?
Saturday, August 23, 2008
they schooled her with deeds and words unkind
she tried to chase them from her mind
but there they were in every decision she made
every sound she uttered every move she played
Friday, August 22, 2008
one to one
please do take me one to one
dont lump me in a group
just because i am coughing
dont think i have the croup
Thursday, August 21, 2008
his eyes are a mirror but what does he see
so much more than i see in me
he sees a young girl laughing and fun
a shiny new pearl, where i see none
a life full of potential dreams unfullfilled
where i see the torrential streams yet untilled
but will he still see me this way as we go
or will he grow tired as we both grow slow?
my eyes are twenty i look at the man
does he see me? i do all that i can
my eyes are thirty and still feeling wild
i am an adult but am inside a child
my eyes are forty and clouded a bit
he still looks young, perhaps a good fit
my eyes are fifty, twenty looks like a boy
emotionally thrifty but perhaps someones joy
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
my parents are older ive watched them age
from every corner, every page
in the twenties young and strong
working hard to get along
in their thirties, their forties too
living dreams they thought would never come true
then middle aged and grandparenthood
defending their bad by calling it good
now they sit at the end of the clock
viewing their lives and taking stock
while dodging infirmities, illness and pain
wishing they could do it all over again
they are the mirror i see my time race
with every wrinkle of my once youthful face
Monday, August 18, 2008
she walked around, shuffling her feet as she imagined the soon to be fallen leaves under her . she had lived this life for so long yet at times it felt surreal, as though she were living it through a raindrop, viscous and distorted.
she turned her head from side to side, taking in all within her range of vision. her eyes swallowed the verdure of the leaves, the sullen grey sidewalks, faces passing by. she thirsted so for every image, unable to take enough in.
ever the outsider so desparate to be let in
within the parameters of her essential being
Sunday, August 17, 2008
i do not want to be this way
time gave me no choice
i may be getting older
but i still have a voice
Saturday, August 16, 2008
should i write something more commercially viable
with inspiration not so easily deniable
or stick to my own self being pliable
at least my angst is reliable?
she sat quietly watching as her fingers hurried over the keyboard, running from the hurt by pounding out her pain. the crickets outside her window ushering the end of summer, seemed to accompany the torment inside her.
she had reached out to someone by revealing herself, this was greeted by the slap she knew would come sooner or later, but this time, she would keep on going.
she sits by the water toes dangling in
this someones daughter not going in
wanting to dive too afraid that she'll drown
yearning to thrive but afraid she'll fall down
afraid of the dark afraid of the light
dreading the lows yet afraid of the height
toes loving the cool water foot goes in deep
liquid inviting so why can't she leap?
Friday, August 15, 2008
it is friday another high day
an attempt to run from who am i day
i should sit and write something down
i tell my self as there's noone around
the music is playing but apartment is quiet
no thoughts are staying
my minds in a riot
will i die with nothing achieved
noone to understand
what i believed
or will i be heard
with my written word?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
it must be nice to be young with a plan
everyday feeling like life just began
but this perspective belongs only
to those who are aging
youth is too busy
with hormones engaging
we who run daily from the
truth so heart rending
we are closer to leaving
our lives to be ending
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
the little girl sat on the shelf
not all alone
but by herself
darkness around her
no glimpse of light
only her fantasies
warming the night
Monday, August 11, 2008
she watches him as he sits, reading his paper, head resting in his hand. she sees him as someone trying...to live a life, to make another life with her, the woman he is with.
she wonders if the women before her share their bed, when he touches her, as he dreams. she wonders how much of his mind they occupy, in his private moments, what regrets, grief he still experiences.
and what of his heart?. are they still there too, shoving her into a little chamber?
she thinks about men in general, are they all from the steven stills love the one your with school of living? and if so, as long as it works for them, that is ok.
but what of the "one your with" , me, she asks herself. where do i fit in, or do i? am i just a little bandaid on a big wound that has not healed?
will i ever occupy the center chamber?:will i ever feel i do, if i did?
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- karen lyons kalmenson
- I am a proud senior, forever hippie, who has incorporated the peace and love vibe into the technosphere of the 21st century. Gratitude and love of all beings is what I live for and how I live. My husband and I are guardians of pteribird in heaven and magic Mikey a special needs senior parrot, whose intelligence and love is beautiful and humbling. Blessings