The First Step

Calf and tendon and shin

What used to be remembers
The road left behind
With an ease born and
Taken for granted

Muscle and sinew and bone

What cannot be learns
The path is the same
Only how I travel from
Here to there has changed

Plastic and wires and metal

What will be anticipates
the trail untraveled
the way ahead
I’ve yet to roam

Two wood beams

What is now knows
the first step is
the shortest I’ll have to take
the furthest I’ll have to go

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My muse takes the view of a person in physiotherapy, looking up at the balance beam, embarking on the very first step using artificial legs, learning to walk again.

real-toads-buton

Today at Real Toads Kerry is encouraging us to pay a visit to to a Word Family. Using family synonyms or antonyms for that which is walked upon, parts of the appendages used to walk and the distance walking.

Real Toads | Kerry Says ~ Let’s Visit the Family 

Hello

A man smiled at me while I sat at an open café
My usual first response: to turn away
To see which woman the smile was directed to
And I think to myself “It couldn’t be you!”
For too long I’ve worn a badge of pity
Not feeling loved, needed, wanted, pretty

In the beginning my spirit was his to inhale
in the end his spirit I couldn’t exhale

My ex’s house cleaning included the parts of my self
from the years I put my own needs on the shelf
then left my empty cupboards open for all to see
Exposing validation of the unworthiness of me
I finished the job he started on my own
And turned a heart made for sharing, abandoned and alone

So ingrained was his scent in the breaths I take
I had to relearn to breathe for my own sake

Taking fresh stock of what I wanted, but not needed to be there
I surprised myself to find my pantry no longer bare
No longer blinding myself to what I needed to see
I rethink to myself “why not me?”
A fresh breath, a fresh step, a fresh peace, a fresh start
Each breath osmosis; restoring soul to the heart

I take the shades from my eyes to let them show
Turn back to my admirer and breath. “Hello”

Still Breathing

.
.
It’s been two hours,
I’m trying not to let the sadness bombard
Wondering how to heal this heart so scarred
My body gasps for air, but it’s too hard

It’s been two hours, and I want to stop breathing

It’s been two days,
I’m worn out from the sleep denied me
From the fullness of the pain inside me
When I’m as empty as the bottle of Jack beside me

It’s been two days, wondering why I bother breathing

It’s been two weeks,
I said I wouldn’t write another word
About you and all that has occurred
Yet fresh tears making new lines blurred

It’s been two weeks, the hurt tells me I’m barely breathing

It’s been two months,
No longer needing Mister Daniels to cope
For the first time not wanting to wallow and mope
Resolving to end this broken heart trope

It’s been two months, and yet I’m still breathing

Hell yes, I’m still breathing…

What Is Proper? (For Kay Cee)

I have a Facebook friend who recently loss her husband.  Like I did then, she feels all alone on her path of grieving. I wrote the below a few months after the loss of my husband. As others who walked the path before me reached out to me,  I share this now so she knows she’s not alone on her path either.

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What Is Proper? 
I look over these years of my life from childhood until now.

Intellectually, I know I’m just a brief dash of eternity. But in my heart, half of that “dash” was my entire life with him.

What is the proper form of grief? I’m being told how well I am doing, how strong I am. If I don’t look as though I’m going to huddle in a corner and sob my eyes out any second, is that sufficient token to gauge my passion? I sometimes feel as though, I was expected to immediately fall apart and because I have not, it’s as though all these years with him have been a farce. For every few sets of real flowers he gave me, he also gave at least one artificial one “because like me, they will still be here when everything else is gone.” But since no one is there at night when I’m falling asleep exhausted clutching those same flowers on the bed, is that form of sorrow any less worthy? So who was pulling the masquerade? Bill? I honestly thought the artificial flowers would be gone first.

What is the proper time of grief? My mother passed away years ago and I still deeply feel her loss, but there is no expectation of a potential replacement for her. I’m expected to carry on and someday find a replacement for the irreplaceable. But when is ‘someday’?

If a year from now some new form of happiness enters my life, am I in too much of a rush to dismiss what was by pursuing it? What if a year from now I find I still cannot take off my wedding ring, am I flat out holding on far too long?

Oh God, a year from now – another dash of eternity I can not comprehend when I’m trapped in pseudo time warps.

I hear a song on the radio and for a moment we’re dancing so close together. But then it’s over and I’m forced back into the reality that he’ll never dance with me again. Then I’m feeling even more the fool for once again letting myself get sucked into a happy memory when I know the end result of such reminiscence is pain. I know it won’t always be like that, but right now I feel like I am wading and wading along a shore of my own tears, trying to find an answer in the tide, but it’s on a crest just out of my reach. I’m so close, yet so far from the solace there.

“One day at a time” I’m told. Right now, I’m just trying to get through one minute at a time.

I’ll work on getting through a whole day later.

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I also offer this:

In Smiling Silence

And this:

Contented

.
.
Sun
Dappled
Shimmering
Full of promise
With daylight dawning

Tears
Are done
I know this
Down to my core
As I stretch yawning

So
I rise
Contented
Feel my soul smile
In this new morning

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Welcome to the Arun.

A nonce poem created by friend and fellow blogger, GirlGriot. An Arun is a fifteen-line poem in three sets of five lines. Each set of five lines follows the same syllable structure: starting with one syllable and increasing by one syllable with each line. 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x. There are no other rhyme or structural requirements.  Though all of hers, so far, were left aligned and not rhymed, I took a little poetic license here.

dVerse  Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 113

Don’t Know Why

I’m sitting here, just sitting here, wrapped in your memory
It’s one so deep in my heart and I really know that I should let it be
But it’s like a sad, sad love song stuck on the same sad, sad refrain
I can’t stop myself from feeling this, even though it’s all just pure pain

But here you are locked within my heart
As if we never said goodbye
And I don’t know why

I admit I didn’t think, I’d make it through those first heartbreak days
But much time has passed and I’ve been just fine since we parted ways
I laugh at our past, brush it away, I got over the things I miss
So I do not understand why today I am so deeply feeling this

Because here you are locked within my spirit
As if we never said goodbye
And I don’t know why

I can’t seem
I can’t seem to excise my heart from you
It’s a struggle
It’s a struggle I thought was through
But your smile, our laughter, all we had
Is right here at easy recall
Oh, we sure were worth the rise, baby
But I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,
No, I just can’t redo that fall

Yet here you are locked within my soul,
As if we never said goodbye
And I just want to cry, feel like I want to die
And I don’t why
No, I don’t know why

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Trying to excise a memory

dVerse ~Poet Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 79

At All

I go through the motions, put a smile on my face
Oh I’m just fine to those who call
Only one could pull me from this dark space
But you’re gone,
So I don’t care at all

Every time I think I’m doing better
The pain holds me in tighter thrall
And I know you’d hate that I’m like this
But you’re gone,
And I don’t care at all

I know I should be better off than I am
But I also know I just don’t give a damn

When it’s all about “Tis the season”
I still hang garland from doors and walls
I once loved the holidays without reason
But you’re gone,
So I don’t care at all

El Sol churns out yet another day,
The flowers bloom, then leaves fall
Luna glows oh so marvelous they say
But you’re gone,
And I don’t care at all
====================

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight – Week 76 – Holiday Edition

How Do I Remember You Today?

How do I remember you today?

Faded ribbons holding memories
Twirling the colors between my fingers

Indigo as the night you first touched me just so

Scarlet as the blood pulsing through my veins
When I went from your girl to your wife
Perhaps the white as the fresh made snowball in sunlight
That I waited until I was inside the house to throw

Faded ribbons holding memories

Maybe the orange of the summer tiger lilies
You didn’t think could grow in our yard
Oh, the lush green for the fresh-cut lawn
I had to teach you how to mow

Twirling the colors between my fingers

Perhaps the rich deep brown of steak
Well done as you loved, but I abhorred
Then there’s the aqua as crystal clear
As the waters of our Caribbean cruises

Or the slate of the morn I became your widow

Twirling the colors between my fingers
Faded ribbons holding memories

How do I remember you today?

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Theme Thursday | RIBBONS

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics– taking a ride on the color wheel

Loving You In Silence

Loving you in silence

Is seeing you so much
Talking with you so often
And yet knowing
For you there is nothing to say
Or anything to see
Of me at all

Loving you in silence

Is watching
Your heart grow fonder
For someone else
And I find I am honestly
Wishing you happiness
As the tears
I’d never cry without
Fall hard within

Loving you in silence

Is seeing the light of your smile
Shining so brightly
As we chat about the future
And that when you say “we”
You will never mean “us”

Loving you in silence

Is knowing the chance
Of what might have been
Is forever overshadowed
By the reality
Of what will never be
And with a smile

Loving you in silence

Is realizing
I’m okay with that
And can finally
Move on

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 68

30/30 – 17 | All Right

Tim had not stepped foot in Big Billy’s Big Bar in nearly a year months. It was in the midst of summer when he had that melt down.  And here it was blazing again.  He sighs for a moment at the memory of when he was last in this place. A part of Tim still couldn’t believe he let her take him that far down into the gutter.

For that is exactly what happened. He let her.

He let her in his life. He let her pull him from his friends. He let her put the needle in his arm, foil to his nose. He let her in his finances. It took almost two years but he had let her turn his whole life on end.  It took the shock of his father dying to see through all the shiny distractions he let blind him with to the dark destruction he had let her make of his life. But not before he crawled into some bar (because he was no longer welcomed to this one), on hands and knees that were scraped near raw from the sidewalks, strung out and covered in filth. Still, the first thing he had asked for was her knowing she used to go there. The owners knew Tim was friends with Big Billy and called here instead. Billy had managed to get Tim to the bar, up right but the moment Big Billy had let got, so had Tim.

Tim glanced at the area where he had purged from every orifice of his body, seemingly all at once. No one knew but Tim, Big Billy and Clarissa but the shame of it had kept him away until tonight.

“Well will ya look at what the cat done drugged up in here! Billy get your ass over and take a look at THIS!  Oh you have just gots to come on ova here and lets me give you a good squeeze!” Clarissa’s booming voice greeted him with delight as she threw down the towel she was wiping a table with and had Tim in a bear hug before the sentence was finished.  Knowing it was coming Tim had braced himself for the impact. Still, he felt his last breath escape out of him in a rush from her heartfelt hug.  Unable to catch a new breath for a moment as his face was trapped between the swells of her ample bosom, he didn’t mind one damn bit as comfort of the familiar took over.  Clarissa has greeted him this way for nearly eighteen years and it was as if the past several months absence had not happened at all.

“Oh good God Clarissa!  It’s a damn miracle you ain’t suffocate some soul to death up in there.” Tim was red in the face, but grinning as she finally let him go.

“They can only hope they be lucky enough to go that way. I know I’m hoping I am.” Big Billy, Clarissa’s husband greeted him with slightly gentler but anywhere near as suffocating hug. “You all right there Tim?”

“No, but I will be.” He answered honestly.

“That’s what I like to hear. The usual?” Big Billy patted him on the shoulder. Billy sees him eying the bar. “Don’t worry the spot will always be yours.”

“And you know it!” Tim sits at his usual seat at the far end of the bar.

Pretty soon it really was as if no time had passed in the bar. Regulars he had not seen in so long, new people who look like potential regulars. Tim was there for over two hours and was having a grand old time when Clarissa dropped a glass.”You’ve got to be shittin’ me!”

Clarissa has thrown a glass or two. Clarissa has juggled several glasses, but Clarissa has never dropped a glass.  All eyes are on Clarissa, except Clarissa and Billy’s eyes are on Tim, and he knew.

Blair.

She looked just as good as he remembered he’d give her that. His heart quicken at the sound of her laughter as Blair breezed through the doorway backwards, laughing up into the face of some new male, some new victim. She turned to take step down and froze at the sight of him. Their eyes locked and for a brief moment his entirely history with er flashed before him. The soaring heights, the devastating fall, all the peaks and valleys in between. When it was good, oh it was so good! But once it went bad…

Tim had not laid eyes on her in nearly a year. He had wondered just what he would he’d feel should they ever cross paths again.  He is surprised by the answer as he slowly lowers the brandy snifter to the bar surface, watching her walk out. He sighs as the door closed behind her.

Billy looked at Tim askance for a moment, trying to read his friend’s expression.

“You all right there, Tim?”

“No, but… ” Tim starts to give his usually response and catches himself.

“Actually, you know what? Yeah, yeah I am.”