sunday scribblings~poetry

peom

i find myself stressed
over the idea of poems
and such.

i find myself irritated
over the car being towed
with no reason
being stranded doesn’t make me
smile.

i find myself stewing
debt
cat litter needs changing
i’m fat

i find myself grinding teeth
and smoking far too much

poetry is beyond me
beyond my thought process
beyond my knowledge of how to craft
words

it's torture
i struggle and
my insides heave

in the midst of
a dry birth

it's done.

well, i accomplished a poem... and, yes (with the exception of the car being towed wrongfully!) it's fiction.

one word~teacher

time is a teacher of many things, i'm told. you learn to be patient (still waiting on that one) to be strong (i'm too afraid to check that out) to know your limits (i weigh 360 and have a drinking problem) and to seek out what you want (that means i have to go outside)

here's the full list of what time has taught me:

one word~gym

i need to go to the gym.

i know that as sure as i know my name and that the sun rises in the east.

here's the thing.

the gym is a block away.. i'd have to walk down the two flights of stairs to the garage, drive to the gym, find a place to park, schlep all my stuff into the very chi chi building that houses the gym, find a locker, get changed, go find a machine or five to work out on, reverse the entire process and make it home, sweaty and hot from the car which has sat in the sun for the hour or so i was in there.

i can do that, or, i can sit here and watch 'drop dead diva' and eat stale red vines (never twizzlers!).

i think not only am i clear, but, i've made sense in this explaination...don't you?

One word~destination

What's your destination?

The question startled me, I'd not thought of any particular place when I boarded this train...simply sat down and allowed my thoughts to settle into the cold oatmeal that was my brain.

What's your destination?

He repeated it, never losing patience, needing to mark his list with the newest passenger.

I sat a moment longer--actually, I sat longer than it has taken me to write this. I sat, waiting for the answer to leave my puzzled mouth.

What's your destination?

It came forth, borne on a sigh of fear-- sanity.... that's my destination.

(Written on my blackberry while sitting in a hospital room)

One word ~ gong

It was a piece of art, the gong that hung in the main hall of the place. Round, polished to a sheen by those who were called to their places by it's reverberating tones, it was feared and hated by those around it...they chose to wish it gone. Prayed it would be destroyed by someone, anyone.

However, Sisiter Mary Patrick refused to change out the old ways, and kept it in place, ignoring the rolled eyes and heavy sighs of the uniformed students under her care, secretly enjoying their discomfort.

one word~itch

at first, it was small, the itch. later, it grew and became more a part of my minute by minute existence. at first, i focused elsewhere, trying to pretend it wasn't there, that i could banish it by thinking of other things. i could defeat this urge, this need.

thing is, it didn't stop.

i had to scratch that itch....

....so,i turned on the sci fi channel..on a saturday, when the films tend to be really, really crap.

it's my addiction.

one word~match

i need a piece of liver, because mine is shot. she told me.

your sister said she'd give me a piece of hers, and i can't figure out why you don't love me enough to offer me a piece of yours. this is why i am so much closer to clarissa than you.

i sat, stunned. all of that swirled around in my head, trying to make sense of what is on, what she was babbling about.

i leaned forward, and spoke slowly. mother, i said to her, trying to keep my temper, mother--i can't give you a piece of my liver because our blood types don't match, because i am 25 and you are 65, so why should i give up a huge part of myself and finally, i have cancer. but, i'm betting my cancer riddled liver is still in better shape than clarissa's.... or have you put aside the fact she's a hard core drinker??

she blinked once. twice. settling into her chair, she spoke with dismissal of my comments-- perhaps you are right, but, at LEAST she offered.

i knew then i'd never win, and left knowing i was finally okay with my decision to not speak to either of them ever again. with that thought, there came the discovery i was smiling...and life looked good.


(okay, i adjusted the last sentence... )

two-fers

i've doubled up.... three word wednesday (qualify, jinx, capture) and carry on tuesday (we think we know the ones we love)

hide and seek

it’s a quality very few have in life, a quality he’d discovered when he was a teen. it was his ability to really know someone, to know who they were inside, to see past the layers of deceit and bullshit and look deep into their souls. his skill didn’t qualify him for any great position in the ladder of corporate life. instead, it seemed to jinx him, causing him to lose jobs when he’d blurt out that someone was lying, or had been stealing or when he saw something deeper and darker in their nature, things they wished to never have told. and, so, he remained one of those behind a counter or washing windows or spreading tar on a hot summer day. silent and alone.

he carried on through life, dodging those who had stains that couldn’t be removed, secrets best not told, dreams even they were afraid of in the light. he moved forward, silent and alone, never trusting. he knew their wells of despair, and had no reason to want to be part of that pit.

he met nate. wonderful, warm, loving, giving nate, who shared his aversion to the bulk of society, who was happy to stay home, stay away from others....nate, his nate. it was on a trip to maine, to stay for a week in a distant cabin when things changed.

it was a shock to find out nate was one of those with deep dark holes in the place where a soul should be... a shock to discover nate didn’t suggest the handcuffs and gag as a sexual stimulus, that the game of 'capture the bad boy' wasn't a game. it was a shock realising his nate was adept at hiding a great deal of his own life. a shock to find those who find no wrong in what they do, have nothing to hide, to be ashamed of...they see themselves as perfectly acceptable humans. yes, all of these shocks were far more painful than the feel of the knife moving through skin and muscle and stopping a split second away from his heart... “you said you wanted to give me your heart,” nate said, leaning in to smile. “we just have different ideas of how to hand over your present."

with that, nate pushed the knife forward that nth bit and full understanding hit william at the same time--allowing him to accept you may know strangers intimately, but, you never, ever really know the one you love.

one word~pastime

it's my pastime, she said to the man who watched her. experiments and all that stuff. i like to prove things right or wrong, no matter how long it takes. now, if you don't mind, i need to get back to my project... it's my hardest one, yet.

he stepped back, away from the gray haired woman, away from the train tracks, away from the line of coins she'd carefully placed on the rails.

and, like her, waited to see if they really could derail a speeding train.

one word~radio

i listen to the radio, my hand held on the backside of this old version of communication in some effort to pull in the signal, make it stronger...i've seen that done on old films. no more internet nor cable nor even normal tv for me.

nor for anyone.

we are left, once again, with the radio to tell us who is winning/losing/who cares? and it's been silent for days.

still, i sit, and i hold my hand on the back, and i wait... i refuse to accept the last words of mankind was that ass who broadcast, "oops, my bad!", right before it all went away.

one word~cleanse

i've the need to cleanse. to remove all the concerns and cares and worries that litter my life... i want them gone, and replaced with ease, love and light.

of course, i also want to wake up and be 20 lbs lighter... i have to wonder which one will occur first.

one word~geese

she watched the geese as they flew away for the winter, to go somewhere south where it was warm and the food was plentiful. they mated for life, it was said... and with that, she wondered if the mate to the one she'd shot and planned on eating that night would grieve for a long time.

sunday scribblings~anticipation

i'm not terribly creative right now... real life is a deep pit.

little things

i wait through the day, living life as it needed to be lived, dealing with kids and jobs and chores... through it all, i wait.

setting sun, dinner served, tv watched, kids in bed... through it all, i wait.

shower, turning the bed down, dogs out and then back in...through it all, i wait.

lying between my excellent sheets, i waver between fear the pattern will be broken and confidence it will not, and i wait.

the daydreams, the memories--little things--they create my universe of anticipation, and, yes, i wait.

10.28.

10.29.

10.30. i need wait no more. my skin sings, and in joy, i sink into the sound of his voice so far away-- “hey”.