Too Light?

I cried and felt so terrible inside for so long.

One day, I finally stopped the [inner] crying. Now, I know what my brief bouts of tears are about.

My heaviness isn’t as heavy, but life seems to have turned into a giant Cosmic Joke that nobody else is in on. In fact, I’m starting to feel so light, I worry I could become untethered, like an accidentally-released helium balloon.

I’m not sure if this is a joy explosion or incipient madness.

When You’ve Got a Hammer

When you’ve got a hammer

All you see are nails

Welcome to the way that

It feels to be fe-male’

Cause when you’ve got a hammer

You’re looking for a hole

You like to force the rage out

That percolates below

And when you take your hammer

You shatter someone’s glass

It could have been my own date

Now grabbing at my ass!

We all can use our hammers

To put each other down

You even ditched your woman

To play “Man About Town

The one who stood beside you

When things in life got tough

The one who always loved you

And thought you were enough

She even liked your hammer

When it no longer worked

So why’d you end up treating

Her like such a jerk?

Now here it’s ten years later

You’re acting quite the creep

You think a beer will buy me

Dude: I don’t come that cheap

The only way I’ll date you

Is Payment in Advance

And with no invitation:

Keep your hammer in your pants!

These are the second set of lyrics (poem?) I’ve written according to the beat of another song. Essentially, my tool for stimulating creativity. #ShapeSong

The Kind of Love That Doesn’t Exist

You’re always there, you never let me down.

When I feel used and beaten and spit back out from the underbelly of a cockroach carcass, your presence comforts me.

It draws me out of my pain; up from down; in from out.

It elevates me and makes me better a better woman and a better human being. Just because you listen to me.

Because you held me when I shed all of those tears that I just needed to shed in front of a man. I always had my mother, but I never had my father. I’m comfortable opening up amongst women, but I’ve never had many platonic male friendships,

You knew that about me. And since you’d done your own therapy and self-reflection, you were the first man who brought emotional weight and awareness to the negotiation table.

I ended up winning the lottery when I met you. I knew it when you let me cry in your presence.

The first time we met, you let me cry.

It didn’t scare you off. You were man enough to handle it. You knew that women cry sometimes. You knew that little girls who were told to stop crying still cried on the inside.

And still needed to be comforted.

Even when they found themselves in a grown woman’s body. They still need to be comforted.

For what felt like the first time for me, you loved me first. You somehow knew I needed that. That for this final go-around, I needed that.

That I needed to be courted and treasured; that just once, I needed to feel like a princess.

I needed to be one person’s “one person.” One person’s Greatest Love; First Choice; Deepest Bond.

Since I was always a second wife, you stepped up and loved me with an Adult Love.

The way a Grown Man loves his Greatest Treasure.

Only your criteria for what defined a “treasure” (a “gem”) was different than most men’s criteria: you complimented me on my physical attributes, but your love wasn’t skin-deep. You had eyes that saw me at my best; at my most radiant.

You loved The Lover in me, The Fighter in me, The Child in me, The Woman in me, and The Mother in me to (you told me that my 3 pregnancies made me a mother and that one day, I would be reunited with my children).

You also loved the Daughter in me, the Friend in me, the Cheerleader (with official cheerleading outfit) in me, and the Soul Mate in me.

You said it didn’t matter that we were meeting late in life; that a few years of what we had cancelled out any prior misery,

You said we could still redeem and restore each other, even if we only have a few years.

Your love enhanced me rather than diminished me; it radiated rather than obscured me; grabbed me close rather than pushed me away.

I had already done most of my mourning, so I was free to love you from a better place. But your love and acceptance energized and catalyzed me in a way I deemed impossible – at least for me.

You did all this just by being there. And listening. When I woke you up in the middle because I had to talk to you, you didn’t mind.

Our love was also a laughter kind of love. We laughed so damned much! I don’t think I laughed that much in all of the preceding years combined.

You let me be all of the things I needed to be when I needed to be them.

You never shamed or judged me. You accepted me. Welcomed me. Desired me. Just me and Only me. You wanted No One But Me. Ever again.

You said I was more than enough. That even if we only had five years together, that would be enough.

That we could die happy and fulfilled.

I had been so lost. Not in a bad way; just in a “lost my bearings” sort of way. You were my Lighthouse. My Horizon Line.

Thank you for Loving Me First.

Because you did, I was able to love you from my purest, unfiltered place. From my reserves. I went to my wine cellar and brought out my best and most expensive Cabernet for you. I carved, scraped, toiled and mined to find my Ruby-Sapphire love for you.

Rubies for passion and sapphires for loyalty. All for you.

My purest, most extreme, and most terrifying (for me) private love, I gave to you. Loving you made me a better human being and a better spiritual being.

All because,

From your core:

You loved me first.

When You’re Old But Your Parents are Still Worried About You

Because I’m growing up… and out again. It’s time,

Thanks to Pops and Honey

For loaning me and helping me with my money.

I know my actions often appear quite “funny,”

And my presentation’s not always sunny,

But please don’t worry,

Don’t worry about my hurry,

I know it might look rather blurry,

But the winds of change have stirred me,

Into a better place.

And because of God’s and your grace,

I don’t plan to exit planet-space.

My goal’s now to finish This Race.

I can’t promise you no disgrace.

But I can promise you I’ll be okay.

Post Script for my Untrusteds:

I hate to mar this sweet post to my parents with ridiculous disclaimers that “there is no money.” How does a person get real and not alert people with less than admirable intentions that they only carry their exact lunch money? Because I’m being relentlessly stalked online and getting fed up with your evil intentions towards me. It’s not conjecture; it’s objectively true, and it makes me very sad. While raising my simmering ire in equal measure.

The Replacement Queen

My once “Lifetime Love” stole my whole identity,
And all the while, right there in front of me,
He dangled with pride his shiny new love
Who, he proclaimed, fit as snugly as a glove
On the hand of the fam’ly who now said I was too small.
After years of gifts aplenty, I had given them my all.
My fam’ly’s new adventures were no longer shared with me,
All access was cut off, and my presence sold as cheap.
I was barely out the door when the new Queen took my place
Taking on my name and usurping my old space.
With barren, empty pockets, I was banished from my home,
And told to hurry up so they could shine the new Queen’s Throne.
As this richer, clever Queen with great cunning took my place,
The nine years of my footprints were summarily erased.

2020, REPOST

For My Next Love

Is there room in my life for you?
Is there room in your life for me?
You know I don't come to you pristine, newly minted, or shiny and new.
I have felt hurt and caused hurt,
I have been broken by the random and the cruel - and by my own choices.
My body has been ravaged, charting atrocities visited on it by plague and progress.
Yet you love it - even desire it - all the same.
You don't love what I once was; you love me now, scars and all.
Of this much I am certain: where our lives intersect
There's a special space; a pocket of air, a sea of calm, a place of rest
That quickens the war-torn and restores its vigor.
You've fixed your circle on me:
Rounding out my sharp angles and smoothing the rough edges,
Like a balm against chafing.
Like sand against glass.
All without any intention of "fixing" me.
In answer to this gift, I will fight my baser self to love you back, with honor and devotion. I know myself; know this will surely be a struggle.
But I am committed to it.
And in the giving and receiving, I will be transformed into the beauty visible to your heart's eye.
Thank you. Bless you. I love you.

http://deeporshallowthoughts.blogspot.com/2014/07/for-my-new-husband.html

2014

With The Back of My Hand:

Or, “A Hannibal Kind of Lust”

—————————

I love you so much that

I’d like to Eat You Alive.

And then wipe your blood off of my mouth

with the back of my hand

that still has

chunks of your hair and scalp

threaded through my fingers.

And later,

after I burp up your digestive juices,

I’ll sleep more soundly

than I ever have before.

—————————

Photo credit: Catalin Pop. Thank you!

These Lazy Days

About we lie and laugh and laze

In these hot and hazy lust-filled days

Counting clouds amongst temperatures rising

A world of us two, and from others are hiding

Sharing personal jokes only we understand

Facing each other, you reach for my hand

And in that moment, a bond’s made and sealed

A secret pact good as long as we feel

These majestic moments that make up the “now”:

Which are as sure and as sacred as a vocalized vow.

Photo credit: Jennie Clavel. Thank you!

Repost

The Exquisite Flame

Beauty was awareness and clarity
Insecurity, Trepidation, and Innocence.
It was wide-open spaces, full of promise
Daydreams and night dreams of That To Come
It was humanity and anxiety and a blissful unawareness of the deeply-buried consciousness of Now
It was sleep from the touch of head-to-pillow to the alarm clock’s pre-dawn shriek
It was yesterday; and it was golden, and it was pure

And I didn’t even know.
I didn’t even know.

How I long for the fears of youth
And simple problems easily solved
I ache with the final passing of Thoughts-Future
That once roused me when I fell and propelled me forward,
Despite my child’s timidity that sought to hold me back
Time alone wasn’t the enemy,

Nor the immersion in grief

Instead it was the consequence of a poor choice, seemingly therapeutic at the time

to bury,
to extinguish
that Exquisite Flame
which took me to the Sun
and dropped me back again.

Autum, 2016, REPOST

Come Inside


I want you to knock on my private door.

When I answer, I want you to come inside.

Let me welcome you into my body, my life.

I want you to invite me for dinner.

I want you to eat me alive.

I want you to kiss me and give me a delicious surprise.

I want to embrace all of you.

I want to give you all I have to give.

I want your heart to meet mine in the place that it lives.

2011, REPOST

Eat Shit and Die, Motherfucker

Is that the trash from the bottom of my shoe talking again?

I’ve tried and tried to scrape your fifth off, but I guess I’ll finally have to burn these shoes.

Then I’ll order a brand new pair

at the absolute highest price possible, and

cover them in the ashes from the burned pair

until they’re completely ruined, and then

I’ll burn that pair, too.

Eat shit and die, Motherfucker.

I’d hate you if I cared.

The Language of Love

Oh! To be known and yet loved for my flaws,
Fills me with hope and gives me great pause.
To think that these gifts
Come without any "ifs"
Makes your words start to stick,
Building trust brick by brick,
And truth day by day,
And all of the while, the words that you say
Begin to sink in; they seem quite sincere,
Both arousing my trust and ousting my fear.
I’m feeling new things that I’ve never yet known,
Could they, just this once,
be my very own?
I don't have the words to describe all this new
Emotion and Growth and Questions without clues.
I only know this mystery transcends my go-to speech,
Its translation is a language grasped only by us each.
When I speak in silence, we both understand,
And volumes are shared when you take my hand.
It is true I feel safe when I’m wrapped in your arms,
Free from all danger; free from all harm.

In you I’ve found treasure.
And exceptional pleasure.
All beyond measure.

2017, Revised 2021

What Is My Superpower?

Writing obtuse, obscure, and obsurd poems.

What does that mean?

It means I like alliteration (I wrote a semi-poem about it called “Ode to Alliteration”) so I was shooting for “obtuse” and repeated the “ob+consonant” for “obscure” – which is like alliteration on steroids, IMHO.

So you like to read poetry?

To be completely honest, if I did enjoy reading poems written by others, I’d probably prefer the obtuse and obscure to the superficial and prolific. Speaking of which, who would you say is the Thomas Kinkaid of rhyme (other than Shakespeare, who’s anything but)?

And to change the subject from ME and MY superpowers, tell me about YOU and YOURS?

I wonder…

I wonder 
if you're a hairless wonder
or underneath a hairy guy?

I wonder
at your sweetness
on the menu of a cafe?

Will you be cold,
kind or bold,
when you meet me halfway?

I wonder
If I'll blunder
and start to cry?

I wonder
if you‘ll plunder
my depths and make me sigh?

I wonder
of the rhythm that beats in your chest.
Will it pound until dawn
or be calm,
absorbing me with zest?

I wonder
about your lips:
will they be wet
as you kiss my fingertips?

I wonder at those lines,
so tiny on your face.
Will I caress each one
In a digital embrace?

I wonder
if your shoulders will lift
the heavy weight that surrounds me?
And if Ease will finally find me
once you loose the cares around me?

Then I ask myself:
will YOU be the one to
melt the ice from my heart,
long frozen into place?

For Debbie, My Therapist

August 2020

I get my head shrunk each week by woman named Debbie

She helps me to process my grief once I’m ready

Her empathy provides me with a safe place to land

I appreciate how she relates and always understands

Those thoughts that lead me down a path of despair

Always seem more powerful, out of reach in the air

We combat them with “mindfulness”, a tool I’ve just found

With it we lasso these fears to the ground

Once my pain’s in the room, we then can dissect

It from a distance that helps me reflect

On the hurts I have felt all through the years

And in the process I purge many tears

We use hip techniques like “E-M-D-R”

Other times she affirms me and treats me with warmth

I feel quite secure when I talk in her presence

She’s someone I trust with my thoughts most unpleasant

When we look back, we see choppy waters

The hurts from my past, both the grief and the bothers.

I know I have found the best-equipped guide

To help me to cope and bad thoughts exorcise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Photo courtesy of Priscilla Du Preez. Thank you, Priscilla!

Lavish & Ravish Me (2019)

Pour out your heart and with it do lavish
Your love onto me, and my body please ravish.

The strength of your presence, it beckons me close;
Banishing fear that leaves me exposed.

Yet with you my exposure is no cause for shame:
I feel full of beauty when you breathe my name.

The confidence you engender calls out to my heart,
And tells me it’s fine that I don’t want to part.

Instead, what I want is to grow a great union
Of mind, soul, and spirit in True Cosmic Fusion.

No longer searching for places to hide,
As all that I am warms to beckon you inside.

Again and Again and Again. Forever.

I Felt Alight

I felt alight,
I felt aglow,
When I began to learn and know

The inner You
You chose to share;
I held it with the utmost care.

You opened up
And shared your pain
Underneath the falling rain.

You didn’t lie;
You didn’t hide
The truest You that lives inside.

It proved you brave:
It proved you strong.
And made me feel like I belonged

Inside your space.
Inside that world,
You made me feel all shades of girl.

We told the truth.
We told our tales.
And unlike Bill, we both inhaled.

My stomach growled -
You made me food.
It took a while but it was good!

We played some tunes,
We watched some flicks.
You opened up ‘bout other chicks.

Spilling all
Required real guts.
It helped explain your “ifs” and “buts”:

The things that hurt,
That cause you grief,
The things that make you seek relief.

Sometimes I think
You might shut down
And burn this thing straight to the ground.

I hope I’m wrong,
I hope you see
We have a special chem-i-stry.

I’d like to try
My very best
To learn what burns beneath your chest.

It’s worth a chance
Be free and dance
To give no mind
And leave behind
The awful shame
From years of blame.

I’d toil and sweat and run the race.
I’d even risk my comfort space
To free my truth, long stuck in place
And lie beside you face to face.

2021

C’mon Y’all Let’s Exorcise!

C’mon Y’all, Let’s Exercise!
Let’s Exorcise that Voice that’s in our Minds
That Voice that Loops all through our Heads
That scolds our every move and says:
You’re not enough: You Should be Dead
Well, I say: You must go Instead
I’ve sold for cheap Your words of Dread
Now Get the Hell out of my Head!!


Don’t come back and bring your friends!
Your time with Me is at an End
I’m so sick of the Words You Say
The Words that never let me Play
I’ve told you you must pack your Bags
You’ve turned into a TOTAL DRAG
I want you out; I want to Sing
I want to be Authentic Me
All I’m Asking’s to be Free
To not Feel Shame or Misery
And Show the Truest Part of Me

C’mon Y’all, Let’s Exercise!
Let’s Exorcise that Voice that’s in our Minds
That Voice that Loops all through our Heads
That scolds our every move and says:
You’re not enough: You Should be Dead
Well, I say: You must go Instead
I’ve sold for cheap Your words of Dread

Now Get the Hell out of my Head!!

We’re really done; I swear it’s true
Those words so often said by you
No longer welcome Here are They
So find another place to Stay
I hate your voice and all it wants
Go find another soul to haunt!
I want you out; I want to Sing
I want to be Authentic Me
All I’m Asking’s to be Free

To not Feel Shame or Misery
And Show the Truest Part of Me

C’mon Y’all, Let’s Exercise!
Let’s Exorcise that Voice that’s in our Minds
That Voice that Loops all through our Heads
That scolds our every move and says:
You’re not enough: You Should be Dead
Well, I say: You must go Instead
I’ve sold for cheap Your words of Dread

Now Get the Hell out of my Head!!