I have a few minutes
to hum
and hope
I can calm down
Feet on the ground
humming and breathing
Friday, 22 November 2019
Thursday, 21 November 2019
Catching up
The Sonshine told me this
One day long ago:
"Mama. You have to be your most important person to yourself."
He was little and so fucking wise.
I am swearing today.
The grief I carry is currently masked by anger.
(Anger is so useful for getting things done)
Sigh. But I
Don't know
What is so
the matter.
Too many flames being juggled in the air
So many people I have to take care
of.
And me? I give myself morsels and crumbs at best
Difficult to cook a healthy meal
Unless there is someone else to feed.
Self-care! Self-care! Shout it from the mountain tops!
What a flop, there are no drops left in me
to spare. How can I care for myself when I have nothing left to give?
Edges and edges and ropes with no ends.
I break and break more wondering how I might bend
these old destructive patterns into something bright and new!
Maybe it is less about something I must do...
And more about saying: "I choose not to do that."
This or that thing. Taking off one or two hats
The ones that never quite fit right
The ones that caused too many big fights
Internal battles between the disjointed crew...
My inner Helpers with expressions askew:
"Why is she wearing that again?
Didn't she learn from the last time when
We pretended to be something other than True?"
Colours and hues
And darkest shades of Blue
I know the depths well
Only time will tell
If I am brave enough to be
The very most important person to Me.
One day long ago:
"Mama. You have to be your most important person to yourself."
He was little and so fucking wise.
I am swearing today.
The grief I carry is currently masked by anger.
(Anger is so useful for getting things done)
Sigh. But I
Don't know
What is so
the matter.
Too many flames being juggled in the air
So many people I have to take care
of.
And me? I give myself morsels and crumbs at best
Difficult to cook a healthy meal
Unless there is someone else to feed.
Self-care! Self-care! Shout it from the mountain tops!
What a flop, there are no drops left in me
to spare. How can I care for myself when I have nothing left to give?
Edges and edges and ropes with no ends.
I break and break more wondering how I might bend
these old destructive patterns into something bright and new!
Maybe it is less about something I must do...
And more about saying: "I choose not to do that."
This or that thing. Taking off one or two hats
The ones that never quite fit right
The ones that caused too many big fights
Internal battles between the disjointed crew...
My inner Helpers with expressions askew:
"Why is she wearing that again?
Didn't she learn from the last time when
We pretended to be something other than True?"
Colours and hues
And darkest shades of Blue
I know the depths well
Only time will tell
If I am brave enough to be
The very most important person to Me.
Hurting
Coming back down
Certain I will drown
in the Pain of infinity
If I let anyone too near to me.
Embodied. Come back in.
What do I do then with the chagrin?
The deep intrinsic sadness
Convinced of my own badness
Unable to forgive some horrible sin
that I can not even understand...
Nothing makes sense.
Nothing but false pretense.
All is well, all is well
Nothing wrong. So strong...
I am. Yes.
But these feelings too...
If the only way out is through
What can I do
If I crumble to pieces?
Will a blast of lightning Pain
Finally drown out the rain
and the tears and the clouds
The screaming voices, so loud?
And magically leave me whole again?
Feel it to heal it! They blithely say...
I can't feel anymore today.
Choosing safety. Choosing numbness.
Losing patience. Refusing dumbness.
As in the original meaning of no voice
We do always have choice.
Our most powerful tool. Stronger even than love.
It comes down to choice. But quickness must also be honed
I want to make choices of love
before my reactions leave me crying again
feeling so alone
Wednesday, 20 November 2019
Falling behind
If I write two today and then two more tomorrow
I will be free from the impending sorrow
Of failing at my intended goal.
The dear Soul
that kept me from writing
Is with his Dad tonight.
Oh the plight
of single-parenting.
He screamed a lot yesterday.
We did play.
With legos mostly. I fed him toast-he
threw on the floor.
We did manage to eat, ok...
I fed him a hot dog.
And peppers and arugula
But, well, hey!
I am doing the best I can.
I needed contact lens solution
But in order to get it I would have had to pack him up too.
This, I wasn't willing to do (what with coats and hats and boots...)
So we made due.
I also have the flu. Or at least a wicked cold.
Coughing and snot
Ears aching a lot.
The screaming became intense. He hadn't napped.
Have you ever fallen into the trap
of trying to reason with an overtired already spirited three-year old?
I need not be told
It is a challenge that brings many to their knees
Begging please, please, please...
But that doesn't work.
Fire does though!
I lit the sweet grass.
In for five...out for five...
Breathed it in. And out.
Smoke trailing into the air. All around his body, his hair.
He stops screaming. Like magic.
Whatever was so tragic
Is over now.
Wow.
I am grateful. He is back.
We read stories.
Light turns to black night.
We pray then we sleep.
So deep. So sweet.
And now, just one extra poem tomorrow and I am back on track!
I will be free from the impending sorrow
Of failing at my intended goal.
The dear Soul
that kept me from writing
Is with his Dad tonight.
Oh the plight
of single-parenting.
He screamed a lot yesterday.
We did play.
With legos mostly. I fed him toast-he
threw on the floor.
We did manage to eat, ok...
I fed him a hot dog.
And peppers and arugula
But, well, hey!
I am doing the best I can.
I needed contact lens solution
But in order to get it I would have had to pack him up too.
This, I wasn't willing to do (what with coats and hats and boots...)
So we made due.
I also have the flu. Or at least a wicked cold.
Coughing and snot
Ears aching a lot.
The screaming became intense. He hadn't napped.
Have you ever fallen into the trap
of trying to reason with an overtired already spirited three-year old?
I need not be told
It is a challenge that brings many to their knees
Begging please, please, please...
But that doesn't work.
Fire does though!
I lit the sweet grass.
In for five...out for five...
Breathed it in. And out.
Smoke trailing into the air. All around his body, his hair.
He stops screaming. Like magic.
Whatever was so tragic
Is over now.
Wow.
I am grateful. He is back.
We read stories.
Light turns to black night.
We pray then we sleep.
So deep. So sweet.
And now, just one extra poem tomorrow and I am back on track!
I wonder, what will they say?
Your presence was missed again today.
Two months since I have seen your sweet face.
Angel auburn hair framing sweet freckled cheeks
A voice so mild and gentle, but not exactly meek.
No. Not meek, but so very brave.
I can only guess at why you went away
Your energy so serene and so kind
I hadn't the luxury of also learning your mind.
And though this cruel world did hurt you,
You remain the epitome of feminine virtue.
I can only hope and pray that you are all right
And wish that I could have saved you from that fateful night.
Was it night? Or day? I can not say.
I do so hope that I see you again someday.
Two months since I have seen your sweet face.
Angel auburn hair framing sweet freckled cheeks
A voice so mild and gentle, but not exactly meek.
No. Not meek, but so very brave.
I can only guess at why you went away
Your energy so serene and so kind
I hadn't the luxury of also learning your mind.
And though this cruel world did hurt you,
You remain the epitome of feminine virtue.
I can only hope and pray that you are all right
And wish that I could have saved you from that fateful night.
Was it night? Or day? I can not say.
I do so hope that I see you again someday.
Sunday, 17 November 2019
Feeling the Spectrum
Tears seeping into clenched hands.
Laughter erupting as I dance.
Let go of this trance called Pleasure and Pain.
Beneath all this, We are one. And the Same.
You and me. He and we. They and her. All a blur
Of colours and sounds, emanations melting into the sands
of time
Placing hands humbly on the ground.
Palms down.
Thank you Mother Earth. For supporting every moment of this life.
Thank you for my own birth, Mother and Father of mine.
Thank you to those who have loved me along the way.
Thank you for those who are brave enough to stay.
By my side. This wild ride. It is a beautiful dance.
Stalking my own mind for the voice that tells lies.
It speaks of things that are not so
My task is thus to ask it, though:
Is this true? And this too?
And is what I knew
the same as what I now know?
Laughter erupting as I dance.
Let go of this trance called Pleasure and Pain.
Beneath all this, We are one. And the Same.
You and me. He and we. They and her. All a blur
Of colours and sounds, emanations melting into the sands
of time
Placing hands humbly on the ground.
Palms down.
Thank you Mother Earth. For supporting every moment of this life.
Thank you for my own birth, Mother and Father of mine.
Thank you to those who have loved me along the way.
Thank you for those who are brave enough to stay.
By my side. This wild ride. It is a beautiful dance.
Stalking my own mind for the voice that tells lies.
It speaks of things that are not so
My task is thus to ask it, though:
Is this true? And this too?
And is what I knew
the same as what I now know?
Travelling yesterday (Nov. 16 poem)
I was on the road yesterday. I jotted down the following, not quite a "poem" by any standards, in my notebook:
Maybe I could write a quick haiku?
But then again, seventeen syllables could never encapsulate the depth of this day.
To play! To laugh and to sing.
The Joy my heart can bring to this Universe...
When I am aligned rather than cursed to believe the lies my storyteller weaves
Small spider in the snow. Will you weave again tomorrow? Or did you freeze not long after I held you in the palm of my hand? Where must you land in order to thrive?
When I am happy, when I can see clearly
with a mind that is fear-free...
Oh dearly. There are many who would do anything to be loved like this.
So what is the problem? Can the problem quite simply be that nothing is the matter?
Sleepy brain. Relaxed. Soaked in minerals from the Womb of Gaia.
Free from pain. Made tracks on the lake where Angels or Soldiers dwell.
The blessing of being here on this Earth, of walking and loving next to you...
But again my mind begins to worry...hurry back to me. Talk to me. Walk with me. Tell me everything will always be ok...at least for today, we did pretty good, didn't we?
The internet said that feeling paradoxical is a sign of something toxical in the waters. But dear sons and daughters, a wise man once wrote:
Maybe I could write a quick haiku?
But then again, seventeen syllables could never encapsulate the depth of this day.
To play! To laugh and to sing.
The Joy my heart can bring to this Universe...
When I am aligned rather than cursed to believe the lies my storyteller weaves
Small spider in the snow. Will you weave again tomorrow? Or did you freeze not long after I held you in the palm of my hand? Where must you land in order to thrive?
When I am happy, when I can see clearly
with a mind that is fear-free...
Oh dearly. There are many who would do anything to be loved like this.
So what is the problem? Can the problem quite simply be that nothing is the matter?
Sleepy brain. Relaxed. Soaked in minerals from the Womb of Gaia.
Free from pain. Made tracks on the lake where Angels or Soldiers dwell.
The blessing of being here on this Earth, of walking and loving next to you...
But again my mind begins to worry...hurry back to me. Talk to me. Walk with me. Tell me everything will always be ok...at least for today, we did pretty good, didn't we?
The internet said that feeling paradoxical is a sign of something toxical in the waters. But dear sons and daughters, a wise man once wrote:
"THE PARADOX IS ONE OF OUR MOST VALUED SPIRITUAL POSSESSIONS…ONLY THE PARADOX COMES ANYWHERE NEAR TO COMPREHENDING THE FULLNESS OF LIFE." Carl Jung
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