Saturday, November 30, 2013

Olivia Sits with Blue

Olivia sits by the seaside
Chilled to the bone and  raw inside
Blue sits with her and unbeknownst
Blue is chilled just like her

Loyal Blue sits by the seaside
with Olivia whose cheeks
have turned wind red
Chafed on the outside

Olivia no longer sees Blue
She can not see the seaside
She can not feel Blue
She has sat for so long
She has turned chilly blue

Blue, Loyal Blue nudges her gently
Shakes her hand and whines a bit
He misses Miss Olivia
who used to play by seaside
chasing him from here and there

Miss Olivia has sat for so long
she seems not to care
He pushes her with his nose
Blue moans and then he knows
He must pull Olivia from seaside

Sad as he may be
Olivia is bluer even than he
Seaside is sweet
Seaside is long
Seaside is beckoning Miss Olivia
with its sad blue song

Blue pulls at her sleeve
looks at her questionably
Barks loudly as if in revelry
Olivia come back
Back to Blue

Away from sad seaside beckoning you
its not the sea you once knew
its sad and pulling you

Olivia blinked and looked at Blue
Loyal Blue whom she has always knew
She patted his head and scooted back
back amongst sand and scratchy patch
The wind pulled her hair is if to say go further

Further from sea and patchy sand
closer to solid land
Blue followed her lead and stayed by her side
Wind chafed red and weathered friend

Barely able to stand again
Blue cried a little whine
kissed his dear friends hand
and helped her with the climb

Loyal Blue always by her side
saved her from sad seaside
its not the place she once knew
she's not the young Olivia
that once frolicked with Blue

She reached down to soothe him
with her hand
forced smiled and straightest of stands
gathered her walking sticks
turned back from sea
saluted to the waves and
came home to me

Blue returned with her
the two now a warm bunch
beneath wooly piles and velvets and such
snoring and snuggling and smiling
Blue and Olivia
the oldest of friends
wandered in sleep to the sea again

In the crisp of the morning
I nudged them to wake
but Blue and Olivia
made their final journey to sea
seemed peaceful in final sleep

I left them there for just a bit
returned to kiss the hand
that was cold and limp
moaned and whined for the loss
of my two dearest friends
Olivia and Blue
Blue and spent

Gone from my reaches
this crisp cold day
I wandered to seaside
and imagined them at play

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Happy Fricking Holidays

This time of year is hard. Anytime, every time of year is hard. I try to remember why I am grateful and sometimes it is not easy. This year is better than the last. I put on a happy face until my melancholy passes. Holidays bring up memories, some good and some bad. I remember mom buying me roller skates one Christmas and in the summer we would go skating together. For some reason, a fond memory is wrapped around her and I during a skating trip about town and in this trip, we fell down multiple times. Once, landing in a pile on concrete laughing. I also remember that same mother not coming home for my 15th birthday until very late because she was at the bar after work.

I remember my father and her fighting loudly and his fist coming down so hard on the bathroom counter that he broke the corner off. I think I was about 13 and I yelled at him for what he was doing to my mom....I should have been scared but I wasn't. I simply spoke up and stared him in the face until he walked out of the house. I think. I would like to believe anyway.

That's the other thing, the mind blocks things we don't want to really remember. Sometimes it blocks things to protect itself. The mind is a terrible thing to waste, right? So why fill it with ugliness?

I remember thanksgiving dinners in Idaho with family filled with laughter, good food and warm fuzzies. I also remember my drunk uncle and my dad in slugfests during other holidays. Not everyone escapes childhood unscathed. Not everyone has a family to turn to. I will always be here for my husband, my kids and my good friends. If you need me and I am able,  I will feed you. I will give you the clothes off my back. I will sit with you and talk. I will drive you where you need to go. Why? Because I know what nothing feels like.

Nothing is having no one to call when your sad. Nothing is having no one to share a meal with. Nothing is wondering if you don't make an effort, will the other person? Nothing is wondering if anyone ever cared or missed you. Nothing eats at you more than feeling like your nothing. I will never let my family as it is now feel like nothing. They and my close friends are my everything.  Grateful. I am. Don't misunderstand what I am about to say.

I'm grateful my mother passed. I'm grateful because she lived a long enough life filled with grief from my dad which leads me to the next thing I am grateful for. I'm grateful I have no contact with him. As a person with a Christian upbringing I tried more than once in my life to forgive him and have a healthy relationship. You can't have a healthy relationship with someone that has an unhealthy mind. I am grateful my son will never know him. Which presents a light bulb that went off for me recently. I don't put up with being disrespected or mistreated. Ha. Yes, I do and have.

Why? Because I was taught if you love someone or if you make a commitment of any kind  you hang in there. You stick it out. I taught myself something more valuable. Self respect. Yes if times are hard you get thru it together. But what if your always being put thru the ringer by the very people who claim to love you? Love does not manipulate, control or anger. Love supports, cherishes and gives.

I believe if a person truly has love in their heart they would not continue to put others thru such hard times. Intentional disregard for others and their feelings is selfish. Love is not selfish. So, for all of you that stay in crappy relationships, abusive relationships, submit yourselves to people that have no regard for your feelings....stop.

Start respecting yourself. If year after year only teaches you the same thing...which is unhappiness, negativity, despair...ask yourself if the people you spend your time with are worth your time. There is a Facebook friend from my childhood, a few actually that gave me a safe place to stay when I was not safe at home. Thank you. I can not thank you enough.

I just had another memory flash by. A good one. I was raised in a congregational church that has "open doors",  they always have and recently they opened them further. I am grateful for that upbringing filled with love and community. I remember going to church camp at least once because the people of the church would contribute so that I could go. My mom could not afford the camp fee. I met my first boyfriend at camp. I rowed a canoe at camp and I pretended at camp. I ate the insides of thistles trying to look important like I knew how to survive in the wilderness when we would go hiking. I pretended to stretch like a ballerina on the wood rail in the hallway of the lodge. In all reality, my mom couldn't afford lessons and I hadn't been in ballet or tap for over six years. I just wanted to be something. So, I was a ballerina.

I heard a song tonight, a spoken kind of song that was very heavy and filled with atrocities. We like to be happy and go about our business as if the world is a beautiful place. In fact, its a very ugly cold place at times. I am doing my best to fill my world, my children's world and my husbands world with peace, love and beauty. Please do the same. Lets leave this world a better place.

Happy Holidays,

Saturday, November 2, 2013

I Ride My Bicycle

I wish I could ride my bicycle today but the wind it is wild and it would woosh me away....

instead, I will just listen to my hubby play.....

I ride my bicycle
to work everyday
and I take my bicycle
home every night....

Enjoy this fine day!!

Monday, October 28, 2013

My Little World

In this corner I call my home
my world
its piled with laundry
and projects undone
but my kids are fed and homeworks
getting done

I don't have time to properly write
cuz Im sharing thai and sharing time
doing dot to dots and waiting for something to rhyme

I don't have a  mansion nor do I have a permanent home
but I have more than four walls and two kids
four goldfish and a cat
playing hungry hippos is where its at

except we lost our marbles
the cat stole them away
the fish are perky
which makes me happy
cuz last week they were bloaty and swimming sideways

the plants are all dead but its winter
and that's my excuse
for dirty boots and holes in my shoes
and for this rhyme that doesn't really rhyme at all
for wooden robots are making the call

got me a sideways glance
kitty cat feather boas and power ranger pants
yea not really its a shirt
but that last line rhymed

doing dot to dots
making six's and drinking tea
laced with whiskey that's for me
balancing the checkbook is at times
easier than balancing life
cuz ya don't have money
zero minus zero equals nada

nada is a fine word
I want to make it equal something
really absurd
like its code for a trillion
or gazillion
that's what I have

your best friends your five year old
it seems anyway
for everyone else has gone
on this fine day
that's ok by me
for five year olds are awesome

they dance to tunes and laugh at your jokes
roll on their bellies and  pull at ropes
bells chime and they are afraid of the dark
so they cling to your sides
and grab you by the skirt

in a sweet way with little chubby hands
covered in chocolate and smirky mischievous grins
tucked away at home
home sweet home
that has more than four walls
and isn't much of nothing special
except its mine and code for castle

Thursday, October 24, 2013

The Remains

At end of day
all that is remaining
are the remains
and they are cold

sent to dust
and dust we must
push under until all that remains

are the remains of the unknown
a ghost to us
a whisper of a thing
lingering about us
as the dust would

and it is cold
all of it
each piece particle and dust pusher
ghost of a whisperer

the breath that escapes is the coldest
it lingers in a cloud just at forefront
at the lips of a whisper
that are iced over and daggered

the breath that escapes just freezes
the words in clouds
the clouds a puff that wafts off

the ghost has a visitor
that follows and plucks
plucks the words out
and pockets them

to be saved and spent
in whispers
in conversations
in pleasantries
that unfreeze the ghost

that pluck at the strings
that bind and hold
and finally escape into air
bristling with excitement

cold has not caught on here
in this cloud of excitement
that lingers about the visitor
that whispers in smiles

plucks and skips along
drops a hint here and there
of mint
peppered and strong

takes your will and drags you along
happily in bristling excitement
into air pure and clear
whispered gently in your ear

come along my dear

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Berry and the Boot

She saw him there
the man in the boots
she noticed they were shiny
in a healthy way but not in a new boot way

She looked upon them because she could not look upon him
As she sauntered up in a slightly perplexed way
she couldn't help but notice the boots did gleam at her

She fell down before him
flat on the ground on her stomach in a offering sort of way
and buffed his boots with her hair and sweat

She swayed and slithered this way and that
perplexed and wanton but virginal yet

It was then that he took notice of her
laid out flat in a wanton way perplexed and all that
virginal he did know and yet
he couldn't help but noticing that
her hair and sweat
did gleam at him

It shone radiant in fact
it left him perplexed and wanton
not really virginal and yet

He gazed down upon her
in this way
dirt and sweat
did come upon her in such a way
that virginal did not suit her at last
Her head bobbed back and forth
like a berry on a branch

He popped it proper with his shiny boot
as it slithered there and that
that is was
a berry
ripe and pretty
laid out in front of him
like a perplexed heathen cat

with juices ripe and rippling so
he gathered himself and did go

his boots so shiny
they gleamed in the night
beckoning to wanton heathens
virgins and such
but in the end just popped them without thought
ripe ol heads
nonsense and such

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Rose Runs Red

Rose runs red
a trickle here and there
she pains and strains
with precise decision

Rose runs red
just a trickle
here and there
she seeps and weeps
with demise and contrite

From stain and gain
a trickle here and there
Rose runs red
Sweet rose
that stains the lips

Rose runs red
a trickle, just a trickle
she's fickle
She takes her hand
and runs it back and forth

Picks up and leaps
sweeps the banter
and calls the canter
chuckles at laughter
and wags her tail

Rose runs red
a bit deep
enough, enough has been said
Rose runs and thus is red

Red from exhaustion
Red from shame
Red from trickling
a bit here and there

Rose runs no more
for Rose is empty and
has fallen to the floor

Sweet Rose is laying
in red piles
a shamble ramble bamble
sputtering red about
Red has run from Rose

and covered the floor
Rose runs red no more

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

I scream, yes. I scream.

I woke screaming.

I could not breath for my own blood was being sucked up into my nostrils and the screaming would not stop. My eyes would not fully open and I caught only flashes of glaring white light that only made me want to close my eyes again. It was like being in a ward and being rushed down a hall and the fluorescent flashing images of white directly into your soul. The screams happened in bursts inbetween the bursts of light.

It took great strength to peel herself off the linoleum and prop herself up albeit only briefly. She remembered she couldn't breath and struggled to hold herself up at the sink to wash the bloody filth from her face. The room spun. A slow spin that seemed to whirl her brain into a fog. She forgot after that.

I woke the second time screaming.

This time blood was trickling down into my mass of unruly hair. And again, the blood wanted to puddle in my nose. There was blood on the floors. Blood on the wall. She had reached for the wall and traced the path trying to remember. The pain was everywhere and indescribable, unmistakable and indeterminate. Where was she?

The screaming had subsided and was now a sob. Where was she? Orientate yourself. Remember the glaring lights and focus. Focus on what? She looked around and didn't know where to turn. Her turning only made the room spin. Not a slow spin this time but more like a whirligig that made her want to puke.

Was it I or she? She stopped screaming. She stopped sobbing and called for help. Help. Help.
Help she said to anyone who might hear her. She hurt everywhere and the pain wouldnt stop. He reached her and steadied her by the elbows. Eased her down and spoke softly. I think tears were falling but the pain was so much it took the feeling away for fine senses. Overwhelmed her.

The glaring whites were hurting her but somehow they made it to the bed so she could lie down .
She couldn't speak clearly and seemed not only to be slurred but not making sense. She was
trying not to become agitated. She needed a rag for her head. She was bleeding onto the bed
and he kept thinking she was asking for him. In a way she was but she really needed that rag. She was
bleeding onto the bed. The bed. It wouldnt stop hurting her. Everything hurt and she wanted to rock the pain away but if she moved she felt like daggers were peircing her head.

The pain had started in her stomach and this is what sent her out of the bed in the first place.
The pain that was so intense it made her pass out. Now, there were a team of someone's in her room
taking pictures, taking her blood, taking her pulse. Taking her away to the ER which they no longer
call the ER. The stupid driver went thru the middle of the drive hitting every speed bump. At least five of them and she asked the one sitting with her to turn out the lights because the lights were hurting her. I think he did.

Was it I or she? She sobbed. She was irritated. She was in pain. She was going to the ER for the
first time ever and they dont call it the ER any longer. As she recalls this only trip to the ER
she remembers she did go one other time. It also was painful and bloody but has decided that
is a story best left unsaid. The pain in her body that had begun in her stomach continued for hours.

The someones who took her along the halls under the garish white flourescents were effecient
and gentle enough. They took her to the radiology room more than once.

The pain was not just in her stomach and her head, it was in her neck. She chipped a bone during the fall. Where did she fall? When shes home she will find the determininate spot and inspect the path.
Try to remember. It would take weeks, maybe months before it all came back if at all. More than just her helpers that night would ask questions and she didn't have answers. At least not ones that sufficed.

Still, today she hurts. I hurt. Bobby pins hurt. Ponytails hurt. Turning hurts but not as bad as it used to. She takes the pain and absorbs it into her soul. It is her duty. She smiles as she dances and he holds her. Steadies her so they can dance without her falling. The spinning has mostly stopped. At one time it was so bad that she would grip the bed and blurt out exclamations.

Not quite daily she inspects her deepest wound. She has a dent in her head. But oddly enough, the pain doesn't stop there. The doctor says it may never go away. She doesnt care anymore. It is just her
duty to carry it with her.

The dreams, the odd dreams have subsided along with the sobs. Have you ever seen people leap into the air? Straight into the air? Then bounce off concrete and land and walk away? In my dreams, I saw this vividly. I think its my determined spirit that is telling itself

"You cant stop me".

So, when the doctor told me ... "You have a little murmur". I decided to just carry it with me. Its
my duty.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

What Defines Us

Mothers Day is coming and I get thoughtful, even a bit sentimental around this time. I think about the early years when I couldn't get thru a holiday without crying. When I would lose loved ones I would cry  for the ones I had lost before and the ones I had  just lost.  I cried for the ones I didn't have, that didn't want me. I spent a lot of time crying. In order to stop crying, I created. Creation saved me.

They say the things that don't kill us saves us...or is it shapes us? I'm not exactly sure. I know I longed for what I will refer to as "my people". I spent a lot of time lost. Feeling like there was no one like me and the ones that I would meet that seemed like me, well we didn't connect somehow. Creation also crushed me.

Crushed me into myself, formed me and saved me. Do you understand?

The very things I dove into that saved me, also saved me from people that didn't connect with me. Back to Mothers day...its been 28 years since my mother died so I often think she didn't have much to do with shaping me. She did not define me so much in her own life as much as she did after she died, or did she? She died a single mother and often I fear her heart did not find its true love. If she did, what happened to it? Where did he, the one true love vanish to?

She made mistake after mistake in choosing the men she let into her life. They were not bad men, they just weren't for her. I have done the same. Except this time, I think I finally got it right. I found someone that doesn't wish to change me, control me or ridicule me. I believe he loves who I am and sees who I am without me begging him too recognize me.

This was a mistake I made in the past.  I, with my actions and words seemed to be begging for someone to see me, recognize who and what I am and simply love me. What a silly mistake.
You can not force someone to love you, you can not convince them you or they are worthy and you can not sacrifice your own dignity in the name of love. That is not love and I nearly did that.
Maybe I did, maybe I just made myself vulnerable and cared about someone that didn't care back.

So, what defines us? Everything. I am defined by encounters, music, art, words, acts of kindness and even acts of unspeakable evil. Well, not really but that sounded terribly dramatic as the words rolled around in my head. I have been defined by events in my life that were not pleasant. Not as dramatic but definitely more accurate.

When I was younger than the legal drinking age, I married someone I thought would love me and I would love him forever. Within the first year of our marriage he impregnated his girlfriend and put me thru hell for over a year before divorce was final. We had actually been trying to get pregnant and I am thankful my body didn't cooperate at that time. Many years have passed and after having two children and one miscarriage I can tell you that both of my children are what I like to call miracle babies. I'm one of those ladies that doctors gave less than a five percent chance of carrying a baby to full term. I thumbed my nose at those doctors and did it twice.

So in my life, creation and death shaped me. The creation of two lives made mine whole. The ending of ones life over and over again during my lifetime also shaped me. The creation of a beautiful life together with my fiancĂ© will shape me. What defines you and what shape will your life be in when you reach the end of it?

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Fun and Nonsense

So much fun and nonsense to be had! Bought a new PC Notebook this week and it has a camera! I can now stay on top of things a bit better since my local coffee shops offer wifi as long as I drink and eat their treats.

I can play solitaire while on breaks and paint and save it to my gallery, check in on Facebook and my email. Plus, I really love Windows 8! Enjoy the movie my son and I made :)