Today I am feeling very hurt for myself.
From everyone I only wanted a little love,
And I didn't even get that.
After you came into my life I learned to live again,
And now you yourself have left my life.
You know how much I love you,
Then why did you do this?
I was just a little jealous,
What was so wrong in that
That you said you want space?
I always Loved you without
any conditions just to
receive the love i never get
I never wished bad for your parents,
I thought I would love them like my own,
But look what happened,
My happiness was snatched away.
I have no one to share my pain with,
So I am writing my heart's words in this diary.
of sewing
on a white and grey shirt
I have had for twenty years
that still makes
a young woman out of me
on the porch
on a ninety-degree night
in May
when I am almost forty
and washing off the years
or trying to
when everything around me
is young and bursting
with energy,
including the clouds
(Only vapor, yet somehow
moving
faster than me)
The Carolina wrens
are young, so full of promise
and song
Flit away, flit away!
I sew the cotton
layers methodically
and tomorrow is field day
for my obsolete school
I will run with my kids
in another shirt
(a lime green one
made of spandex
from a race we ran
on Saturday)
Not everything
is a recycled dream
Writing taught me plenty~
like how my thoughts, so many,
line up like rowdy schoolkids
when I give them half a chance.
It showed me words go dancing
when I stop over-glancing,
and sometimes trip spectacularly
while trying to look grand.
It proved my drafts are stubborn~
they mutter, Try again, hon,
but if I bribe them with some chocolate
they usually behave.
And most of all, it told me
my messy mind can hold me~
a slightly tilted universe
that still deserves the page.
new “cool” expression:
bombing down the hills
on skateboards.
Apparently,
it’s a boy thing
and something
that to me
just sounds scary
and dangerous.
I’m on a slow
sleigh ride into
middle age and
hot, sweaty
menopause.
Damn
It took an hour to get ready,
even to just drive around the block.
First, he would check the oil, kick the tires,
tune the radio and set the clock.
Then he’d adjust all of the mirrors,
check the wipers and wash the head light.
Not sure why he’d worry about it,
cause he could not see to drive at night.
He could not start any adventure,
and not stop at the liquor store first.
Had to grab a six of Budweiser,
he’d say, “so he did not die of thirst.”
He’d stop at the bottom of the ramp.
trying to get onto the freeway.
Then set his cruise control at forty,
his signal light flashing the whole way.
You know he could not drive fifty-five,
but stayed right there in the passing lane.
Traffic backed up for about a mile,
wave his finger at all who’d complain.
Before he could make a right-hand turn,
he had to come to a complete stop.
Drove around the lot for an hour,
while mom went into the store to shop.
Freedom
from seeking
is what is sought
but not recognized
in what is found~
That's the path
often taught
but may suggest
what is sought
is not seeking
and not
freedom~~
The cold November wind blows through the pine trees .. an Erie feeling comes over the fog covering the park, deer are huddled down, perhaps they too are hurt..
The creek calm like glass, only the ducks feet glide across like a knife through butter.. but no noise dare they mutter…
Darkness overcomes us, street lights luminate the path leading through Sunnybrook park..everyone is asleep..
My aching body lays down upon the grass, thus is my happy place, away from people who had no time for me, you had your chance to listen, now only the deer, look into my soul, we’ve made thus place our home..
For GOD created thus place for us.
The sky upon which to seek HIS wisdom,
Deer in which to graze on grass He sowed,
Tall Pine Trees in which to give us Shelter,
Sun from which to warm us.. .
My body is at peace,
my breathing slows,
Winter will soon be amongst us; blankets of white, seeking food will be a chore, but HE who created the earth will provide; for THOSE who seek with an Un righteous heart..
I seek and GIVE to HIS heart to others in private as THAT is what HE taught; in my own way with out fear of judgement..
On a scale of one to a hundred
I want to do this between a two and a three
Okay, I agree right away
because I am easy
Because I put everyone else’s feelings ahead of my own.
I throw them into the train engineer’s private cabin
whereas my feelings are thrown onto the rails
while the train of life goes clicky clack all over them
Because I was taught that my feelings are not important
But
This is important
Let’s not miss this
Everyone else’s feelings are more important than anything but God
My identical twin and I often laugh about how long it took for us to say no
Raised by a mother who never had a problem saying it
I was in my forties; I think before I could say "no, I don't want to do it."
My sister said she was in her sixties.
he was taught to ignore his feelings
they are not important
you will be weak if you show them
keep them to yourself
nobody cares
the therapist was overwhelmed
her job is to get clients on a feeling level
his resistance was resolute
in ten sessions he had not slipped once
not smiled, not laughed, not demonstrated any humanity
nobody cares, nobody cares, nobody cares, going through his mind
He spent his life feeling alone and unappreciated
died young and alone
caused by the stress of knowing
that nobody cared
and his feelings were not important
Can composure somehow be taught
pre-packaged ‘poise lessons’ bought
Can’t say I ever gave it a thought
‘til I watched a WNBA 'game'
~ I mean, onslaught
______________________________
WNBA = Women's National Basketball
Association
Every dawn looks the same.
I chased the sun.
I pleaded with the skies.
I waited behind my watching eyes.
I needed to break the knot.
I wasn’t made for straight lines.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
I waited until the wind leaned in,
To blow my way and follow.
The sky leaned in; It knew my name,
but the sun's light refused to bend.
I grabbed the rays in shaking fists,
Wove them round my wrists,
Pulled them in close,
'til they broke,
And shone a new path for me,
etched by the wind,
now chasing behind me.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
You think you know the game
Until the light won’t change.
Your path stays the same again,
until the wind changes,
and you bend the light
to your direction.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
You can't control the sky for long,
Or hold a cloud fixed in place.
Until the wind changes -
Fills your sails behind you.
I taught the light to bend,
when the wind was going my way ...
Going my way!
That old elf is unschooled, but he taught himself
Has more knowledge than books on a librarian’s shelf
We call him the amazing wizened elf, for he is you see.
Much brighter than my siblings, actually, my whole family.
He can do better surgery than most doctors can do
A self-taught veterinarian, he saved a sheep’s life too
Old elf is in no way slow-witted, illiterate or dim.
For sage advice, the rest of the fey always turn to him.
The hardest job you will ever have is love.
It is not just a gift from above.
It takes a lot of work to get it right.
Sometimes you may fight.
But always be each other's light.
Don't get stuck on a negative thought.
This is from lessons taught.
Only thinking about the bad.
Makes you sad.
Turns your thoughts blue.
Makes the negativity come true.
If you focus on the good.
This must be understood. The happy stays stronger.
Longer.
You only have today.
Face it in a positive way.
If you face life with grace
Tomorrow will fall into place.
I remember a guy who is
Going to get married
I asked him
"What's your love for her?"
He said
"She keeps my peace as I keep her."
This sounds to me like thunder
Among the clear sky
Came a lot of needles
How come peace was not
In remembrance to this
It would sound easy
Not to upset a person
I thought so much ponder
As I smile and walked away.
Fears stay forever,
They don't deteriorate like weather.
And I watch the free birds through my foggy window,
And I watch their lives flow.
To grow old is to grow wise,
That's what they said.
Presidents and doctors and Gymnasts too,
This wisdom is not enough to mistake you,
They thrive for openings to their neverending fears.
They strive for a open door when they haven't seen one in years.
And though they have no idea.
It's better than to stay and fear.
Everyone feels fear as if it has overcome us.
Though I see the appeal.
I still see the crow children free as a bird.
From my fogged up windowsill.
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