Tag Archives: Memories

Awaken

Posted on by
20

I awaken and start the day anew
I wish to shout for joy, but it won’t be
this piece of hell that’s become me and you
It’s simply washed all joy away from me

I wish to shout for joy, but it won’t be
With caution is how I now must behave
It’s simply washed all joy away from me
The gallant now replaced with the depraved

With caution is how I now must behave
I’m just as much his virgin as his vamp
The gallant now replaced with the depraved
A dexterous mixture of coy and tramp

I’m just as much his virgin as his vamp
Some elder ring of hell has been released
A dexterous mixture of coy and tramp
My “once upon a time’ prince now deceased

Some elder ring of hell has been released
To wallow in these sins he does impel
My “once upon a time’ prince now deceased
Like fairy tales my mother used to tell

To wallow in these sins he does impel
I join in things I once never conceived
Like fairy tales my mother used to tell
I‘m awed by all I’ve been lead to believe

I join in things I once never conceived
My mind and soul warped so far out of joint
I ‘m awed by all I’ve been lead to believe
Until I’m pushed beyond the breaking point

My mind and soul warped so far out of joint
I hushed the urge of fighting brevity
Until I’m pushed beyond the breaking point
I fought for my peace and longevity

I pushed the urge of wanting brevity
This piece of hell that’s become me and you
I fought for my peace and longevity
I awaken and start the day anew

<>=======<>==========<>

dVerse Poets Pub | Form For All: Pantoum

Treasures of the Mind

Posted on by
7

Hot chocolate on a winter’s day

The way her hips to music sway

The smile that reaches to her eyes

That to this day makes your heart sigh

The feel of safety in loved ones arms

The smirk as another falls for your charms

Catching ‘your song’ on the radio twice in a day

Watching your child perform in a school play

Getting that solid A on a hard book report,
The satisfaction of a job well done
Their smart remark, your quick retort
Then kicking back and having fun 

The clearing of your head after a few good sneezes

The clearing of your head after a published thesis

The joy of hearing your newborn’s first cry

The frustrating age of “How come…” and “Why?”

Having a quiet moment if for a short while

Taking a hurting soul to happy smiles

Seeing the tom-boy turn to lady before your sight

And that 3’6” terror became a 6’3” man over night

The pure white of the first good snow
The first buds of flowers to answer spring’s call
The summer fling that might yet grow
The sight of geese heading south in the fall

An outburst of laughter when you’re by yourself

Putting the championship trophy on the shelf

The feel of babies hand within your own

Eating Mama’s fried chicken to the bone

Massive holiday dinners and you’re stuffed to the gills

You’re asked for your hand and “Yes” you will

Lying in the grass, shaping clouds above

The first time you knew that you were loved

Being able to lay your head down at night
Without a worry or a fright
With the peace that comes from living right
And knowing God has you in His sight

All this and so much more you’re bound to find
Within the treasures of the mind


====<>====
Entered in:

Poetry Picnic Week 17:
Photos, Nostalgia, Memories, and Families

Take Me Home

Posted on by
5

The surefooted sun smiles upon us
In summer evening’s sweet dream
Where we heaved ourselves into the willows
Not that far from the bubbling stream
Aye, it has been so long a time
Yes, time’s spent many a day
Since dandelions crowned my hair
As a precocious child at play
It seemed from the moment
The golden sun starts to show
All the way through ‘till the fireflies
Light the night with their soft glow
Counting cloud daring to dent the sky so blue
While lying in the back of Grandpa’s cart
Letting the sun fry me to a nice bronze
During those weekly treks to the mart
Oh the lush green hills stretching forever
To these once young eyes it seemed
Became closed walls over night
To the teenaged me, now steamed
At how there just had to be more
Than just a life of living on the farm
Thought I travel a little and come back
What could be the harm?
How far a road I’ve journeyed since
I first loaded my things and started to travel
Yet found I’m searching for home in foreign places
All sense of such starting to unravel
To lose touch with those lush green fields
What part of my soul was so easily sold?
To make my way in this dizzying swirl
Of concrete hot and skyscrapers cold
How to regain the small wonders in my life?
To re-enjoy all the small simple things
Like how the crocus by the shed blossoms
Before the calendar says it is spring
It took decades to find that balance
I’m still a country girl at heart it seems
My plans were true to all but me I learned
But shattered plans don’t shatter dreams
Aye I’m an old woman now, seen many a thing
Among the highways and byways I still love to roam
But now and then I get a hankering for quiet, for peace
And my mantra becomes “Take me home, take me home”

For Poetry Picnic – Week 10

If I Didn’t Know…

Posted on by
11

There’s a scratch on my heart ,
You’ve put it there,
The memory is seared
Forever in my soul’s care
Every now and then,
I run a finger across to feel the sting
For it’s all I have left of you
And it’s the worst to know how hard I still cling

Now I’m left wishing
Your kisses meant much more
Than just another
Notch on the bed post to score
Even knowing
That you never loved me so
You’re still in my heart
And for the life of me, I can’t let go

If I didn’t know
How your smile filled me with delight
If I didn’t know
How your arms felt holding me tight
If I didn’t know
How your lips tasted in the night

If I didn’t know
It would be better now

When people say
To follow your heart
They never tell you how
When it’s in a million parts
I spend each night
Praying for one less tear to cry
So quick to say “Hello”
Why can’t my heart now say “Goodbye” ?

It was easier
When you were just a fantasy
When there was never
A chance to be a “you and me”
It was all so easy
When just a figment of my brain
Because I never imagined
You’d be the source of all this pain

So if I didn’t know
How your smile filled me with delight
Or if I didn’t know
How your arms felt holding me tight
And if I didn’t know
The taste of your lips in the dark night

Oh, if I just didn’t know
It would be so much better now
So much better now

Each Day Anew…

Posted on by
27

I wake and start each day anew
I shake myself to clear my head
I take on faith I’ll muddle through
I make myself get out of bed

The day is as it was before
The play of life’s dramas unfold
The clay of my face gets new scores
The way it will for days untold

Time flaunts with me in its cruel way
Time wants me to think I’m all right
Time daunts my tears in light of day
Time haunts me then in dark of night

Can’t lie my pain will soon be through
Can’t fly away until it’s gone
Can’t buy back moments to redo
Can’t die so no choice but go on

It’s true that heartache ends, but when?
It’s few the days I feel it cease
It’s due I know, but until then
It’s through my pen I find release

I know I have the strength to cope
I go as heart and soul say to
I sow my seeds of faith and hope
I grow and start each day anew

====<>====

[written several very short, yet long years ago – about six weeks after becoming a widow.]

The form used is called a Lento. Strictly speaking a Lento is two quatrains of eight syllables (a Double Lento has four quatrains, or as I have done, a Triple Lento with six quatrains). A Lento requires that you rhyme the very first word of each line in the stanza and have an ending rhyme of abcd. As you can see I took a little creative licensing here by repeating the first word and rhyming the second words instead and having an end rhyme of abab.

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics: The Beautiful Sadness

Random Acts — But Why?

Posted on by
2

Several friends have asked why would I of all people would reach out to a total stranger as i did yesterday. I was the perfect person to reach to him.  Even I did not understand why until this morning when I read the following…

“Sometimes you really feel alone with your pain, like no one’s there to comfort you in just the way or ways you need.”
— Allyson (part of her comment on yesterday’s Random Acts post)

Dear Lord, how many of us have felt like this over our lifetimes?!

It took Allyson’s comment to bring back a memory…

The week I went back to work after my husband passed away, I was that man on the subway. No sound, no heaving shoulders, just tears I could not stop from streaming down my face for a few minutes.  Unlike the guy from yesterday, this was still winter, I had no sunglasses to hide behind. I couldn’t even pretend I was reading a book and something moved me to tears. I was just sitting there crying.

On a crowded New York City subway during rush hour all alone and no one said a word to me.

I accidentally caught the eye of a woman sitting across from me. She realized I saw her and she immediately looked away. Not just averted hers eyes, but turned her entire face to look elsewhere. I could not decide if she was embarrassed at having been caught looking at me or if she hoped she didn’t add to my embarrassment by being witness to it.

As I stated above, the whole thing was only for a few minutes. Three or four train stops at the most before I was as back under control as I could be given the situation. By the time I made it home, no one who had not seen it first hand was the wiser.  I put the whole thing behind me until now, this being the very first time I have ever spoken about it.

I had put it so far out of my mind, that even yesterday, it did not register as I responded to another crying soul on the subway; at least not consciously.  But obviously the soul remembers, even what the mind does not. I would like to think I still would have responded thusly to the guy yesterday regardless of the coincidence of our situations.

I responded to another that the Powers-That-Be arranged it so that I would be the one standing in front of him. Who knew they kick-started this moment years ago? Ah, karma, sometimes it’s not always a bitch.

NaPoWriMo — Return to Gray

Posted on by
2

Sun-kissed ballerinas took turns dancing
with the red-brown foliage of the trees.
They fluttered their arms like birds in flight,
dusting the forest below with white and gray.
Blankets in monochromatic shades twisted
themselves between the trunks. With might.
sunsets and sunrises came and went: majestic,
beautiful, romantic with each season, and now
it is winter again. The gold of morning hints at light;
Never truly day, never truly night.

Her head was tilted back, in a vulnerable pose,
waiting for the cold fist of melancholy to come
uninvited, and knock at her door. Love was a riddle
branded to her lips as she sighed his name
one more time, for old time’s sake. She swore and cursed,
as the snow fell outside and her tears, pale and white,
remained. She just wanted to remember how she
hasn’t been able to forget, and forget that she still
remembers. His memory spilled from her lips–spite,
This whispering place between dark and light.

She thought the she could control the sentiments
but they snaked their way to the surface.
A rosary of emotions tumbled forth
from ones time dulled to ones vivid – bright.
One more time her fingers travel paths familiar
only to her subconscious eye,
paths his fingers once gently traveled
across her soft yielding skin.
Experiencing again all his colors with an audible sigh
Living a dream, wishing on a star in the sky.

And not for the last time she’ll wonder what if,
what if all had worked out as once dreamed.
Try as she might, she can’t push them away.
Bead by aching bead all their moments
now only alive in her memories,
pulled so deep to a point even she can’t deny.
She does what she has to; to get past this need,
to return to the more controllable feelings of gray.
Relinquishing the hurt she’s trying so hard to let die,
Surviving this pain, refusing to break down and cry.

But when…?

Posted on by
2

I have now attended a funeral for the third weekend in a row.

Third weekend. IN A ROW.

This new year is only 22 days old and so far I am not liking 2011 at all.

I walked out during the third or fourth person speaking on today’s dearly departed to go to the bathroom. I had my coat with me and instead of going back into the service I put it on and walked out the door. And kept walking;  I just wanted to go home. I was dressed very warm and could only really feel the cold on my face. It wasn’t a deal breaker and i really needed to clear my head so I decided to walk towards home until I became too cold and/or too tired.

That alone should have been a warning bell, but I was in no state to hear it.

As I’m walking I’m going through a tsunami of emotions.   I cycle in and out of insomnia, going two-three days without sleeping, then coming home and being out cold before 8pm and not rising until my alarm goes off at 5am.  These near weekly snow storms and work related issues have added to the stress. I bury one friend for infinity last week; then in a completely unexpected turn of events a former friendship I had emotionally buried suddenly finds itself resurrected this week, which brings in a whole new set of emotional turmoil as we awkwardly work out trying to find our way back to some state of what was.  Add in I went out, got completely wasted and had to go to work the next day with my head all over the emotional scale. And yesterday, I learn another friend has made the decision to move to another state and will be doing so relatively soon. I’ve put up a fantastic front, but I see this past week especially is taking its toll.

I was  five blocks from “home” when the warning bell I did not hear earlier went into full on Star Trek red alert klaxon mode. I was heading towards the wrong home. I was heading towards the home I lived in when I was still married. It is in the exact opposite direction of where I live now and had been walking out in this freezing ass weather for a good thirty minutes before I noticed. What the fuck? The enormity of it comes crushing down on me and suddenly I am freezing and exhausted. I hop in a cab and go home.

So here I am. In my warm bed, partially on my lap top typing this, partially gazing at what’s left of the sunlight bouncing off the snow-covered rooftops,  trying to defrost from more than the weather that’s left me feeling cold.  As I sit here, I realize, with all the emotional turmoil I’ve gone through, I’ve yet to cry.  Yes, I’ve shed tears. But I have yet to have that long hard, crawl into a fetal position, full-out, deep ugly soul cleansing bawl. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks hugging people, holding people, reaching out to people giving them encouragement, letting them know they’re going to be okay.  Yes, I could go and have been to my friends where I find succor and loving support.  But me being me, keep moving on. I’m moving on so well in fact, I head towards the wrong home. Why?  Because it was the last place where I was loved.

That no questions asked (because they already know or have a good idea), loved. That pull you into their arms, holding you tight loved. That not letting you go until it’s as out as it can be loved. That maybe it takes a few minutes, maybe it takes an hour, maybe it takes until you fall asleep exhausted loved. That’s what I need. However, only the Powers-That-Be can say when I’ll known such once more.

I know that breakdown is coming, but when? I pray that the tipping point does not occur in the middle of the work week, because that would be just craptacular to fall apart at work.

In the interim, I write and I wait…

Sigh…

In Smiling Silence – Redux

Posted on by
4

Feeling forced into a role of valiance
For my tears seem of little credence
I bear this all in smiling silence

They say “It’s not for us to ask Him why”
Or the “It’ll get better by and by”
It’s two weeks! I’m not entitled to cry?
I bear this all in smiling silence

Trying to squelch fears in their own attitudes?
Is it for me folks spew these platitudes?
And THEY’RE upset I don’t nod in gratitude
I bear this all in smiling silence

Because I’m sitting here shattered-hearted
Some take it as permission to get started
On a run of their own dearly departed
I bear this all in smiling silence

Tears flow and I hide feeling contrite
Are my tears only allowed in the night
Far away from everyone else’s sight?
I bear this all in smiling silence

I’m not asking to dwell in an abyss
But I’m consoling others – something’s amiss!
Much as I need to give a moment to this
I bear this all in smiling silence

===== <>  =====

I initially wrote the above as an angry, sobbing stream of consciousness in my journal within days of becoming a widow.  Even, now years later, I sat biting my lip resisting the urge to choke yet another person who says “I’m sorry for your loss”, “It’s all part of a greater plan”, “He needed him more” and other well-meaning but sickeningly trite counsel. Watching a new widow of barely a week graciously handle the condolences that come her way, I can’t help but be reminded of when I was in that exact position.

I can tell by the half-glazed look in her eyes she’s merely going through the motions expected of her and all I can do is watch.  One moment she calls me to her, as she feels that I am the only one in the room who really understands exactly what she is going through. The next moment, like the one in which I’m just watching from a distance, she pushes me away as I am a reminder of what exactly she is now – a widow.  The stages of denial and anger just beginning their ugly battling. I’m also hoping that she’ll see,  though she is far from being able to see and accept it right now, that she also will get through this and will eventually be okay.

I’m headed for home soon. I left a copy of the above poem for her.  Just a way of letting her know that this anger at everyone being nice, even if by route of traditional platitudes, is also normal.  I’ll happily pay it forward and help her through those clichéd, but so true, seven stages as I was lucky to have the guidance of those who also traveled this road. For as annoying as it is to hear in repetition, the only acceptable platitudes were/are “one day at a time” and “it does get better”.

Because eventually we all learn – one breath, one moment, one minute and yes, one day at a time, it does.

One of the Strong Ones

Posted on by
6

Yesterday morning about 8:30 am, I learn a good friend was killed in a car accident less than two hours previous. Derrick was a gentle giant of 6’8” and 500 pounds and nicknamed Darth. It was a well-earned nickname after single-handedly lifting me from the ground by my neck during a touch football game at a wedding reception (long story, but yeah, I deserved it). Considering I had just spoken to him and his wife on Saturday after the birth of their daughter, shock doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m sitting at my desk when I receive this news,  just as someone comes by and asks a question. Before the news can fully process, I shut off and respond to the query, because I don’t have time to give in to it right then and there. It is a useful trait that comes with being one of the strong ones.

As luck (hah!) would have it, Murphy’s Law rears its head in that yesterday was a training day. I’m the instructor; for a training scheduled to begin in less than an hour. 8:40 is about when I’m walking out of the door to go to my regular training venue. At 8:50 I was still sitting at my desk in semi-shock when my boss called about some urgent work related issue. Typical me – I take a deep breath, pull it somewhat together, compartmentalize, charge through and get things done. It is a useful trait that comes with being one of the strong ones.

As I set-out the training room materials, my mask must have slipped for a moment because only one person at the venue noticed I was off my game. I explained the situation briefly and went on about my business.  All during training, I’m ignoring my on-silent but constantly blinking cell phone. I know people want to talk to me, need to talk to me. I also know I had a class to teach. A class that any other day would run smoothly, but yesterday had back-to-back technical issues throwing the schedule off by a good forty-five minutes. I spent my lunch hour, not eating but on the phone putting out work and personal fires. It is a useful trait that comes with being one of the strong ones.

I get back to my office and everyone is in a titter over the approaching snowstorm. I quickly realize my original plans to be out the door on time are not going to happen. Nine hours from when I first received the news and an hour past my normal quitting time, I did something I never do. I lost my cool in front of a client. A well-meaning friend and co-worker who I had not had a chance to speak with came to chat and chose the wrong moment to be stubborn when I needed her to go away, while I was on the phone with a client. Let’s just say, not only did I forget about the hold button, but I owe my co-worker an apology. I know she’ll forgive me; because after twelve years of working together, I may yell a lot, but I do not out right snarl at someone, especially at work, without damn good reason. It is a useful trait that comes with being one of the strong ones.

I finally get home at 10:30pm. I am on the phone for another couple of hours, finally dealing with all things Darth. I’m fighting the desire to go and do everything I can to make it better, knowing all too well from personal experience, there really isn’t much I can do. But, I am also the only one in our age group who can provide that experience. The problem with being one of the strong ones is that nearly everyone accepts that of you 24/7/365.  Where do the strong ones go when they need to break down? Like when it’s two in the morning, and I’m caressing my neck in memory as I’m sitting up in the dark of my bedroom, the glow of my lap top watching me as I watch big fat juicy snow flakes fall and yet my tears can’t.

It is a not so useful trait that comes with being one of the strong ones.