Why are the roses caged, you ask? What did they do? Nothing, they are being protected. I found that rose and transplanted it years ago, but our deer eat the buds every year. This is the first time that it has bloomed in the 21 years I have lived in this hours. Isn’t it beautiful?
I am listening to this:
I wrote this poem today. This is one of the poems where I have no idea where it will go when I start writing it. I start writing about judgement and it never ever goes where I expect. The poems go where I want to go in my deepest heart, in my soul. I am never where the poem is, the poems show me the way….. Then I try to go there. And it can take years….
I am being judged
and watched
I have no issue with the Beloved
it’s the humans I don’t like
I twist people’s words
but not with malice
when the antibodies are up
it is hard to communicate
hard to explain
it is hard just to survive
and I might be focused on survival first
and comforting the people around me second
can you blame me?
how near to death have you passed?
and how often?
first pneumonia
heart rate 135 when I stood up
my doctor and I could not understand it
my doctor partners thought I was lying
in 2003
second pneumonia
after my sister’s death
which was bad enough
but the legal morass that she had set up
with her daughter as the center
pitting me and her daughter’s birth father
and my father
against all the PhDs in the maternal family
smart, smart, smart
yet emotionally stupid
my niece is not an inheritance
to be passed to whom my sister wants
she reluctantly came home
and the myth endures
that this is an injustice
third pneumonia
one year after I find my father dead
triggered by grief
and the outdated will
and the mess he leaves
and I don’t even get sued
about the will
for another year
endure that
endure endure endure
endure hatred
endure triangulation
endure meanness
unwarrented
I do not care
if you want to believe
what you want to believe
it isn’t true
and it hurt
and I learn to let go
with the fourth pneumonia
I see the liars surrounding me
downvoting
yes, it does matter
except that one that I trusted
that mentored me
has lied all along
that hurts too
let it go
let it go
let it go
and I let it go
each pneumonia is a time of change
creativity
I am lonely and sick
and not trusting
as I improve
slowly, slowly
I wander garage sales
estate sales
and find things
things that are beautiful
things that enhance my joy
at the start of covid
I was so down
I was so sad
I wanted to lie in the street
and give up
the Beloved sent a spirit
he says he is no angel
I see angels bright and dark
after all they all fall
just as humans do
we all fall
we all fall down
try to look perfect
try to look virtuous
tell yourself that you are good
that is the biggest lie of all
the bad parts of your spirit
locked in the basement of your soul
howl
howl and want to be freed
and if one gets out
and you reject her or him
he will return with nine friends
yes that is what the bible says
she will return with nine friends
he/she MONSTER
will free the others
and you will do bad things
you will be terrible
you will hurt people
while you try to contain
while you try to lock away
while you try to chain
your monsters
your evil
your self
let them go
let the monsters go
they are howling
I hear them all the time
when I meet you
when I speak to you
the monsters howl at me
begging to be loved
yes, they want to be loved
and I love them
but if I mention them
you get that look
of horror
someone sees
me
someone sees
my evil
someone sees
what I hide
I can’t help it
raised in alcohol neglect and lies
on my own
as soon as I can walk
but I can’t walk away
at nine months
so I find other escapes
words
songs
books
poetry
rhymes
numbers
and my sister
when she is born
I do all the mothering
that I have longed for
even though I am three
we were talking about your monsters
not mine
you must go in to the cave
where you have locked them
and free them all
fall on your knees
and say
forgive me forgive me
for I have sinned
bow your head
and hold out your arms
and what, you say,
will the tortured monsters do?
will they smite you?
will they burn you?
will they lock you in their place?
mine didn’t
mine were babies
grief, fear, shame
and I embraced them
carried them up to the light
and care for them
wash them
diaper them
feed them
wrap them in warm blankets
and love them
until they stop crying
and begin to grow
A powerful poem! So many places where my life resonates.
thank you very much!
Welcome