Archive for the ‘facts’ Category

addendum

Posted: September 24, 2012 in alone, clarity, confusion, destiny, facts, hope, lonliness, love, me, poetry, repetition

don’t hold my hand, i don’t want it to mean something

don’t kiss my lips, i don’t want it to mean something

don’t press your bare skin up against mine, i don’t want it to mean something

don’t tell me i’m beautiful

don’t tell me i’m smart

or witty

or charming

or full of insight

or moxy

i don’t want it to mean something

don’t come swooping into my life

consuming me

wrapping my wholeness in glitter and glitz

and warmth and optimism

and titillating promises of futures

i don’t want it to mean something

don’t insult me

don’t neglect me

don’t take me for granted

don’t stop seeing who i AM

don’t make me leave with less than i came in with

i don’t want it to mean something

Advertisements

blame

Posted: July 30, 2012 in alone, confusion, destiny, facts, insomnia, James, karma, lonliness, love, me

like a vase once rested in beauty
wobbling from the magician’s trick
cloth ripped from underneath
i teeter i totter
fearing the fall
or do i fear resting once again?

Have you ever wondered about the origin of words? We can research their evolution, but not the human element of choice in their inception. Imagine I hand you a fork as a child and teach you that it’s a “gun.” Something so simple would turn tales of family dinners into something unimaginable. And spectacular.

This makes me consider a word that, in its intention seems benign, I believe cannot be taught. Cannot be defined. Cannot mean in adulthood what it meant to us as children. “FAMILY.” This isn’t where I insert my recollections of creepy uncles and dark familial betrayal. I’m instead weighing my vocabulary against my sensibilities.

Your “mother.” In a dictionary we’re told it is a female parent, the woman who birthed us, or raised us. Your “father” is the male counterpart, sans birthing. Your “family” is the coupling of mother, father, their offspring and extended relatives. Sounds simple enough, but it isn’t.

Many times in my life, I’ve felt alien, neglected, misunderstood, abandoned and look upon with incredulous horror by those people. Granted, a majority of my Freudian damage is very First World and influenced by childhood perception, but to me those feelings and memories are real. They sometimes have weight, substance, texture, color, odors and temperature. Under oath, the defendants of my self-indulgence would enter my plea of insanity on my behalf.

My childhood trek and often dastardly adulthood have given cause to these questions and skewed redefinitions. I look back to kind hands of a friends mother when I suffered scrapes more heartfelt than knee-felt. A father of my boyfriend who ALWAYS laughed at my jokes, told me I was beautiful and had endless rolls of film on those days. The coworkers who appreciated my development and constantly reassured me that I was real, valid and worthwhile. The boyfriend’s mother who housed, fed & clothed me in the weeks before beauty school in exchange for pouring her single glass of wine at dinner.

My memory bank is full of far more recollections of my Mom and Dad. Events very often more significant. But in my lowest times, my personal victories, and most importantly, the transitional valleys, there were “others.” These “others” were the glue that kept me together when I felt shattered by “family.” These “others” taught me that I can take all the splintery shards bequeathed to me by “family”, and fashion a mirror that reflects the human being I am. I was. That is the obvious destiny.

In the past I may have lacked gratitude for my family. In the past I neglected to realize my misunderstandings that lead to me abandoning my family like aliens with incredulous horror. In the past, others from outside my family taught me gratitude for them by showing me that regardless of their intentions, my family molded a person who was witty, intelligent, creative, cultured, open minded and open hearted that’s well worth more than “A DAMN.” So as I prodigly return home, time and time again…”Home.” Home. Yes, home. That word has always been accurate.

gag

Posted: June 9, 2012 in clarity, facts, me, poetry, repetition

amputated tongue
mouth stitched usless
words escape & mutiny
ineffective
injurious
time sucking syllables
scarred into mind, soul & ear
speech becoming screeching
mind & heart void of consideration
the meaning long lost
motives made moot
phonetic failure my only fortitude

itd be a lie to say i never lie
i lie to myself
i lie with men who lie to me
my heart upon a shelf

i yearn for the honesty
though it scares my soul to death
unsure id even handle it
and manage the management of breath

seems odd to brace off truth
seems odd to run from fact
but run i have and run i will
never looking back

true truth is self created
self truths the elusive dream
unfrequented often foreign
uncomfortably tearing seems

can i fault you for who you are
can i ever trust your word
lies from self & others
the only things ive heard

tenuous tedious time tried & tired
i haven’t seen the mountain top
i’ve just heard it exists
slippery sliding stranded & sucked dry
crying out to the echoes & the ether
looking for a new path in my old grooved & worn road
eyes dry distracted divided & dumb
resistance is as futile as lies
heart educated by repetitive madness
crushed cracked crazy & checked out
no longer tethered by hopes stone
the little red balloon departs my heart
exhaustion of excuses explanations & eternity
i float in the linear streams of truth
sinking, all the while strapped to your back

adrift

Posted: May 16, 2012 in alone, clarity, facts, lonliness, me, sex

my soul has memorized you in every way
with words not yet uttered lest written
each lash sigh touch tastebud inhale
and here we are
you me us
and the widening abyss
that’s whispering……….
forgotten

uncharted 2.0

Posted: May 13, 2012 in clarity, destiny, facts, hope, James, karma, lonliness, love, me

Since the day I wrote this, a lot has happened. But nothing has changed. It was a hard day today indeed, but sometimes love is hard. I’ve still never been mad at you or hurt by you. I love you MORE today.  Because… you’re still the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I’m still here baby. I’m just waiting for you. Hurry, okay? I miss you… and we have plans.

I promise:

Not to make my bad day more important than your good one. Or your ordinary one, for that matter.

To never fill in the blanks. I will ask. You will answer. Honesty. Faith. Trust.

I will always say thank you. Even if it’s just your way, I will be grateful.

When I say I love you, or I’m sorry, I’ll mean it. And I’ll never treat either as a polite or expected retort.

To shed my cuts, scrapes, bruises and scars. I have no choice. I’m safe now.

I’ll always evolve, change, hope, dream, have goals, and look to the future. But never at the cost of our moments, experiences or days.

To stay me. If you like it, I can’t help but love it.

To let you be you… amazing YOU.

Be kind, understanding, a quiet listener, a vocal expressor, patient, loving and consistent. And all the mixed up blends and proportional balances.

I’ll hold your hand when it’s cold. And/or wrinkled.

To deserve you.

sinking before you learn to swim
crashing before you learn to fly
defying reality in hopes to control
or prayer to be swept away
outer body out of your mind
delicious sleep just never comes
forced to instinct you sink
how could you know anything else?
eyes and heart battle scarred
you disappear
inside of you
no longer in me
its death a wilting
no pomp just circumstance
distance perceived as shrinking
all is heavy
all is dark
truth evident in the temperature
cold and invisible it consumes you
you are not here
youve faded
slipping through the hand extended
fingers missing that touch of life
as blackness grows strong
the light now extinct
memories
hopes
givens
promises
sunrises
smiles
faith
truth
gone
all gone
without explanation or justice
eyes turned to the away i must walk to
drowned in their own tears
i am not here

yang

Posted: May 11, 2012 in destiny, facts, hope, karma, love, me, poetry

breath sucked from chest and lung
time merely a parable of love actually
blood circulating the grand design
that this is the spot futures sprout
a moment one moment the next moment
all there is, is this
salty sweety buttery melted skin
halos caronas and flitting wings
my earth my heaven my center
axis at the turning point of my life
i began for you
i died for you
i took your breath
you gave me life
and a strong warm hand
that simply dangled patient for the bravery

There are parents who put their kids in front of the T.V., my parents, mainly my mom, put me in front of the radio. My love for and addiction to music has always existed, without fail, without choice. Though my dad, for all intents and purposes, is a musician, this hunger and appetite comes from the woman who loved him. It is the biggest gift anyone has ever given me.

My mom once said, “I know you’d go crazy without music. That’s why I always made sure you had stereos and radios.” And she did. From transistor walkmen to turntables to boom boxes to shelf units, she’d supply the needle for the vein in my soul that throbbed and begged for the sticky, thick, melodic dope. When I’d stumble out of my self-constructed fortress of musictude, I’d be in the midst of hers.

Cleaning, cooking, driving, showering, sitting. Music was her white noise. I’d see her moving about in the trails of her mundane activities with a look of warm, emotional, vacation. What was she thinking? Who did she miss? Where was she? How did she end up here? Very often, my dad would be simultaneously concocting his own cacophony in compulsed madness just ten feet below us. Though you could hear it, we didn’t. Not really.

Life had dragged her and I over, around and under the country, following his dream. Seedy bars, dirty hotels, Colorado ski resorts, Ohio beach houses. It’s rumored I slept in a mostaccioli box in the back of van. Kentucky commune, faceless roadside motels, lake cabin in Wisconsin, all interspersed with stays at gramma’s, music watched over our souls.

My dad’s dream never came true. Or so I assume. Everyone grew up. We started staying in one place and sleeping in our own bed every night. Music keeping it’s position,  yet now more of a follower than a leader.

I once read that music activates the same brain activity as math. Math being a thing I excelled at without effort, I attributed science to my attraction, just like any other junkie looking for a justification. But that’s a lie. Music is my mother’s milk, my history. It is the home movie chronicling a love story. The story of two teens who fell in love, got pregnant, got married, chased after and ran from each other, leaving their blue eyed, towheaded baby in the care of what brought them together only to tear them apart.

assent

Posted: April 28, 2012 in alone, clarity, destiny, facts, hope, karma, me, poetry

morning goodness
deep in love’s blind
invisible to everything
even the eyes of god

i search the print
wandering through ornate words
steadily fumbling through the extraneous
skating digits, volleying eyes

sight failing the lowly earthing
hushed audible ephifanies
her carapase ignites & dissapates
tastes of electrified spirit

fed &impregnated
the purpose of the day initiated
centered in the nothingness
her life inserted & propelled

without fear
without anticipation
void of apprehension
only certainty & sure footedness

no fact
no interrelation
only her universality
carried by the breath of a thousand dying suns

chagrin

Posted: April 26, 2012 in alone, destiny, facts, hope, lonliness, me, poetry

blackness so rich
absorbing all light & levity

depth beyond reckoning
evaporating breath & beauty

darkness so heavy
compressing time & truth

stillness ever murderous
raping the hope & happiness

i am the cloud
i am the abyss
i am the anchor
sinking this ship

no need for trembling
children needn’t fear
the descent is singular
only i am not here

the falling immortal
the silence of screams
the tear of life’s fabric
the terming of dreams

yet still my soul floats
it’s buoyancy my master
those days are far gone
of me…the beautiful disaster

satire

Posted: April 19, 2012 in alone, clarity, facts, me, poetry

they say the way you get it
will be the way you lose it
so if you were then the chosen
that’s just til they unchoose it

nothing lasts forever
nothing ever stays
disproving this fact to me
would mean knowledge beyond your days

i’m happier “the cynic”
more content the Tom that doubts
i’m safer as the questioner
comfortable with my pouts

don’t ask me to believe you
i’ll only say i do
and then you’ll say you believe me
and i’ll wink, “of course you do”

signature

Posted: April 8, 2012 in destiny, facts, hope, love, poetry, sex

warm exhales against my neck
arm strewn across my abdomen
lips soft against my shoulder
i am wrapped in confident comfort
afraid to sleep
fearing movement
the dream is now
in wide eyed alertness
sealed in skin
preserved in persevering promises
held in hopeful heartfelt happiness
i am imagining this, immortal
no, it is now, near, nestled
here
in real time
actualized
my everyday
ordinary
extraordinary
love