Tuesday, October 21, 2014

You're so vain

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if you think this poem is about you
if you think you are the only one
I made this decision about
this last weekend.
Moth to the flame
men surround me
offering hopeful half truths
on the off chance I will bestow
the favor of my incandescent smile
let alone the privilege of my time.
I wait, weaving and unwavering the
tapestry of my hopes, ready for
my Ulysses to come to me
though I haven't met him yet
he is worth the wait
a love for the ages, for our lives,
battling monsters and sirens
on the journey to
us.
He's wearily wondering
if he will ever arrive.
Me too.
But I am patient.
Dreaming.
Confident that I am
worth the
anticipation.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Power

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Taking it back
Taking me back
Taking my life back.
I have the right
I have the knowledge
I have the desire
to only accept what I want
to only allow what I need
to only permit what is healthy
for me.
Just because someone else
wants
doesn't mean I
have to give
have to tolerate
have to minimize self.
After so many decades
being compelled to
take what came my way,
I now only permit
my decisions and dreams
to be the deciding factor.
My way.
Mine.
My power.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Rescuing Rachel

Hands trembling with betrayal
tingling with rejected desire,
she sits curled in sheets
staring at her knees
wanting the emotional bleed-out
to clot, to scab over
treacherous numbing shock.
Musing, tears tracing
reddened cheeks, she reaches
for the bag, the box
to bandage the anguish.
I step backwards in time, softly
lovingly clasping her hands.
Her startled eyes fix on mine.
I slowly pull her toward me,
enfolding her in a
perceptive embrace,
soothing and singing
strengthening her long-cherished
hunger for wholeness and holiness
sacred swaddling for one
not lovingly parented.
I settle beside her,
smoothing the sheets,
assuring her
I am not leaving
ever again,
safely guarding her against
past and future hurts.
She finally relaxes
slipping into sleep
healed
abstinent
treasured
protected
mine.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Unexpected light














Out of death comes life
in unexpected light
the shuttered windows of the
mind fly wide
the opening of a heart
long closed to those
who inflicted old hurts
and mindlessly traumatized
one who only wanted to
be loved
for herself.
Tears and conversations
hugs and listening
the Child grows again
and again and again
running into God's arms
dancing joyfully
hopeful.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Three little pigs












The first was sickly, small, hairless, wrinkly
frail needy mess, listless gray rheumy
helpless immobile discarded.

No longer willing to be the victim runty helpless
fears of being sick despair unpleasant changes
emotional breakdown.

The second was bigger, bristly snouty mean tusks
multi colored brown coarse pelt irascibly thatched
ugly grunty growling threatening dirty greedy stubborn.

Seeking find internal answers and secrets
avoiding the boar and the bore

The third was little, dark brown cute sweet short tidy hair
cherished cooed over trained sweet loving calm
following with clouds of possibilities and hope.

Misconceptions examined and realigned.
Fertility, creativity, strength abundance.

Life is precious.
The house is solid.
Time only for the positive,
the life-giving,
the self-responsible.



Friday, September 26, 2014

Seasons of love











Why do I feel sad
when I hear you are leaving us
when I haven't really cared much
about what was going on with you
in many, many years because of
the unacknowledged tandem role you had
in the traumas of childhood?
The grieving is more likely about
the end of an era
the final death of a generation
time's evanescence
the false stories of faded eras
the never-to-be healed actions and
justifications of crazy, evil behaviors,
my mother's parents vanishing
at last. The past will just never
get better, will it?
As you slip quietly out through sleep,
I think of you and wonder
what it would have been like
to have a cookie-baking grandma
with a toss-you-in-the-air-squealing
grandpa, instead of the
dishonest molesting freaks
that comprise my genetic upline.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Dreamlands

In a chimerical maelstrom
two children
a baby boy and a toddler girl
pawns in a power play
between strange foreign adults
and their putative mother

Motel rooms flash by
wet towel heaps and
scattered toy deserts
Crammed elevators
Menacing conversations
ambiguous menace
Papers inscribed by
malignant forces and a
helpless parent

The boy disappears
if he ever really was
and the girl is mourned
her destiny putative and
vaguely dangerous
as the mother tries to
move forward
weeping over the
vagaries of ending

when

the girl bursts through
the door of a cold fireplace
mummified and mute but
squirming towards freedom
inching slowly and furiously out
of the cocoon of disregard and
powerlessness and
abandonment
to fly to the
arms of the one who
sadly missed her,
welcomed and
fiercely cherished
all the more
for having been
thought lost.