She was always careful
Don't be too stupid
But don't think too much
She should find something
Something that makes her heart beat
Maybe makes her think creatively
Just something to shake her a bit
But she has to be herself
And this is the best she can be
© Poem – XXIII/VIII/MMXXV
LRET
ant climbs down dog bowl
was she getting herself drink
dogs do not notice
she has a rainbow disposition
personality of a confident woman
her ideas are eclectic and electric
she likes herself now
alone but not lonely
reflecting and reflective
brilliant mind, sharp theories
she likes herself now
she needs no one’s approval
standing on her convictions
developing her self-fulfilling intensity
she likes herself now
silence is her friend
she leans into it, gleaning spiritual favor
her guides are proud of her
she likes herself now
the person she was at eight a.m. did not recognize her three p.m. self
She had thrown away two or three “I will never's" that day
transmogrifying herself into a willing flexible chameleon
no one else noticed, which amused her slightly but lightly
Part of herself wanted to scream her new truth, but she was shy
Her muse took the helm and wrote about it, but who read it? No one.
Notice me! She was screaming silently from the inside
Self-absorbed, no one offered her time or attention.
Wait! Hope walked into the room, in the form of her old boyfriend, Roy.
He caught her eye, and then her hand. She felt like a fly trapped.
You are more beautiful than ever! He told her. His smile was crooked.
He looked delighted with her; she knew it was the alcohol speaking.
She had completely transmogrified herself since he left her.
Did not bother to share her changes though, he was clearly not interested.
She searched his face, wondering who he was seeing.
the person she was a few minutes ago, barely recognized herself.
Selfishness looked out for herself
She was thrilled to do what she wanted
When she wanted
In the way she wanted
Without censorship, suggestions or having to please anyone else
Selfishness did not buy into funerals, graduations or weddings
She spent no time with her family.
She did not care to make a friend.
She never felt lonely or sad.
She loved her alone time.
She felt cherished and entitled.
Loving her ways.
Sometime
before I was not mature enough to notice,
she began to dissolve.
Husband dead, son revolving
around one woman after another,
moving away from her fading presence.
Aware only of the ebb, and flow of her care
or interest, Distance surfacing in her eyes.
How her housecoat insulated her from
what she once loved.
When she looked at me it was through a tunnel
she had dug into her mind,
her presence muffled
as if it were now
always too cold to surface.
I should have seen the signs,
but by then I only visited
during narrow gaps in my life.
I told her to join something,
do what other old people did.
Only now do I understand
what old people do, -
they think of their parents
in threads and patchwork pieces.
I cannot recall the exact period
when the seam of strong bonds
began to unravel,
for of course,
that specific time was buried with her.
She had a heart
As cold as ice
She had battles with everyone
That came into her life
She would say a nice word
Every now and then
But afterwards she
Would be ripping of your head
Hard to please
Hard to talk to
She didn't have friends
Enemies quite a few
We often thought
If she hated us
By the way she went
If we made a hiccup
But soon we began to realise
The one she hated
Was herself
Deep down inside
But by then it was too late
As the devil was waiting
For her at hells gate
Her battles was
An internal one
She never meant to
Cause nobody harm
Just herself.
He wanted her, and she wanted him too,
But longing alone could never pull them through.
He saw only the fire that burned in his chest,
Never the storm that raged in her unrest.
She needed safety, a harbor, a home,
But with him, she felt stranded...adrift and alone.
She searched for love in the space where he stood,
Yet all she found were echoes of "if only he could."
He was there, but not really...just shadows, just air,
His hands reached for her, yet never with care.
She clung to the hope that one day he'd see,
That love wasn't longing...it was setting her free.
Silent tears on a pillow at night,
Heartbeats racing in panic and fright.
Still, he never noticed the cracks in her soul,
Never reached out to make her feel whole.
She held on as the pieces fell,
Losing herself in love’s cruel spell.
But one day, the mirror showed someone she missed,
A woman who deserved more than just being wished.
So she chose herself, turned love into flight,
Stepped out of the darkness and into the light.
And as she walked, he called it betrayal,
But love isn’t longing...it’s showing up, without fail.
Her attempts at writing were unfruitful.
Stark white page sneered and called her mean names.
Loser, stupid, dummy, idiot….
She stared at the page.
Writing was not a big deal.
Lots of people did it.
The thin blue lines stuck out their tongues at her.
Maybe tomorrow she told herself.
Her muse gave her the finger.
Marta decided to garden herself happy
It was the thing she used to love to do
with her grandparents, Big Pappy
and her grandmother, Nora Sue.
They had spent many hours planting their seeds
Hoeing, tilling, raking, and getting rid of weeds
their bounty came in July, and sometimes in June
They were still working, singing a communal tune.
Big pappy would whistle, Nora Sue would hum.
Marta planted her garden, chewing her gum
Putting seed packages on stakes so she would remember
what she had planted; what she would can in September
As she made these new memories, she remembered her roots.
Her apple trees were generous, they provided her fruits.
Carrots, cabbages, corn and pumpkins came along this July.
She smiled at the heavens, feeling her grandparents in the sky.
she left a heart shaped balloon
so he would know the suitcases were from her
and walked away proud
glad that she had made the decision
to choose herself first for a change
The old wood framed home stood stark and abandoned, a
shell of herself, where now new homes were standing..
Rotted roped windows wept with the rains and rattled and
trembled with each passing train..
The once solid foundation now unmoored by silt causing the
aged house to lean, a precarious tilt..
Yet inside her ancient bones still chiseled and grand with her
high molded ceilings and oak floor plans.
For over a hundred years she was home, haven, shelter, thru
cold winter storms and hot summer swelters.
Many years had passed and her families moved on.
She stands out of place where she once so belonged.
Boom decorates herself as if she were a Christmas decoration
What kind? I asked, sugar cookies, divinity or another confection?
More like a tree, her hair is full of bulbs, all silver and such.
I think I would like to meet her I tell him, I mean very much.
You would! He says, for I am dressed as Santa’s happy fat elf.
The one that likes to lift others to get things down from a shelf.
I eat some of the sugar cookies, they are marvelous, pretty and gay.
I can meet Boom another day, feasting is what I’m all about today.
Shattered resilience
In shards of shattered glass, her reflection lies,Splintered and fractured, betrayed by her eyes.Each piece a story of heartache and pain,A portrait of loss, a soul that's stained.The broken glass reveals her inner fight,A girl who's been hurt, who's lost in the night.Fractured and fragile, yet still standing tall,Her spirit unbroken, refusing to fall.Each crack a memory, a scar of the past,A reminder of lessons learned that will last.Through the broken glass, she sees her strength,A beauty that shines, despite the length.For in the brokenness, she finds her grace,A warrior's spirit in a fragile place.With each shattered shard, she builds anew,A mosaic of pain, wisdom shining through.So let the broken glass define her not,For in her heart lies a strength that has sought.A girl of resilience, of courage and might,Embracing her brokenness, she comes to light
whate and shark both wanted her love
she saved herself
for her feelings were not the same
they eventually moved on
there is no merman, other mermaids chastised her
she hoped they were wrong
prayed for a merman
other mermaids married sharks and whales and moved on
handsome kind merman arrived at the right time
he was gallant and brave,
best of all, he had been looking for her
a mermaid who was not taken
She was now taken,
as was he
they lived happily in the sea
raising darling merbabies.
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