Mother got us a hammock, a two story structure. Our food can be in the lower section and I can sit above and keep an eye on it. Even when the bowl is empty. I am still hungry, but she is being a little more generous. She still feeds us in separate rooms. My sister and I race to check each other’s bowl when she opens the doors again. I like the wet food. My sister likes the dry food. Mother gives each of us some of both. We trade.
I am still doing offerings in my bowl in hopes that Mother will be more generous with the food. My sister had her head in the food bag the other day but Mother saw her and closed it up. I wish I had hands. I would open more cans.
Oooo, I put orientation up as the Ragtag Daily Prompt today. Then I wondered if disorientation is a word and it is! A mouthful!
This is a series of poems or meditations or arguments I had with myself last week. I was thinking about love and how to handle people that I love that have stopped behaving in a loving way or have actually been cruel or cut me off. Do I stop loving them and hate them? Do I love them anyhow? What would that love open me to? Abuse? It is disorienting to think about. Here is the series.
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The Fall
I am small. The adults love me and give me away. I grieve each time. It doesn’t matter if I behave well or not: they leave me. I decide that the adults are confused. They do not know how to love. Why don’t they know? I want to understand! Babies should be loved! We are innocent!
All babies should be loved and protected. I do, with my sister. The adults continue their mysterious crazy doings. I recognize that alcohol does not help, nor other choices.
All babies should be loved and protected. All adults were babies once. Sometimes they were not loved and protected and they are damaged. I train and then I doctor them. Healing is slow.
All babies should be loved and protected. All adults were babies once. All adults hold a baby that should be loved and protected: themselves. I try for a long time.
All babies should be loved and protected. All adults were babies once. Each adult makes their own choices, to heal or not. To grow or not. To love themselves and the Beloved or not.
All babies should be loved and protected. All adults make choices. The Beloved loves them all.
I am not the Beloved. Nor an angel. I dream of falling.
I am not the Beloved. I let go. I fall.
I do not love them all.
Rise
Yesterday I fell. I let myself dislike four people that I loved.
But no, I choose not. Angels fall and rise again. I choose love. If that means distance, then I choose distance. For now I will love the cruel ones from a distance. No contact.
The Buddhas laugh at the needy ones, the angry ones, the ones who press. Some will be enlightened, some wait for the next life. The Buddhas laugh because they do not control it. It may be the quiet one who says nothing who rises, while one who wants and wants and wants may have to want for longer. Why, Beloved? Isn’t wanting you enough? Isn’t longing enough? How much must one want? How deeply must one long?
I choose love.
Prayer to Kwan Yin
Kwan Yin, I am sorry. I cannot be a Bodhisattva. I am tired. I grieve. I want to love everyone. They hate it. If I love the small child within they are reminded of the hidden hurts and they lash out. I am tired. I don’t want to be the target of that. Kwan Yin, how to do you return and return again, loving these? I am not strong enough. I give up. I throw myself on your mercy, I bow to your infinite love and strength, I abase myself. Forgive me, I am not strong enough. I give up. I do not have enough love in my heart and I am so tired.
Beloved, I am sorry. I tried.
Every Being (Sonnet 9)
Keep the cruel ones at a distance far. Hold your enemies close in love’s embrace. None to hate, yet cruelty glints like stars. I hide quiet with cats in this home space. My heart opens like the universe. Projections batter me from head to toe. Why tear at me with their deep hurts? They project their pain: inside they know. They know, don’t know, choose not to learn. Dark rooms and texts and staring at the screen. My skin scalded, heart black with new burns. I think they’d like me too to turn out mean. I will hide here with Beloved’s dove. Each tear I cry sends every being love.
In spite of want
Sol set in my heart and rises again. I can love whoever I want. There are no boundaries to love. But I will not be abused or used, I will love quietly and silently and without letting my love know. And I will love who I want. No, I will love in spite of want, though I do not want to, though it is not deserved. But I honor my stubborn heart that does not let go of love.
Thoughts coalesce, precipitate wet earth soaks rain and turn to mud snow melts and soaks the bosom of the earth sun warms, worms break down tattered leaves what stirs beneath wet brown muddy ground we listen for spring’s soft slow moving sound
I chose measly for the Ragtag Daily Prompt because there is a measles outbreak. Great. Another outbreak? Yes. Parents are behind on bringing kids in for Well Child Checks and kids are behind on immunizations, so measles.
Measles is way more infectious than Covid-19 and is spread by coughing and droplets. Per the CDC: “Measles is one of the most contagious diseases. Measles is so contagious that if one person has it, up to 90% of the people close to that person who are not immune will also become infected.” Read here. Immunizations are at 18 months and age 4-6, two shots. That will make the vast majority of children immune but not quite all. No immunization reaches quite 100%. Measles unfortunately can have some awful and serious complications including death. If your child is behind, get them immunized as soon as possible!
If some has the measles, the rash, they are measly. That is one of the definitions of measly.
Measly weasely You are so teasely Your heart has a rash Our friendship is hash You toss me like trash Your heart just smashed You are so measly Weasely teasely
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I keep wondering if the earth is annoyed at the way people are behaving. Perhaps she has said, βRelease the Kraken!β But the most efficient Kraken turns out not to be a giant monster attacking New York City, but Covid-19, influenza, measles and strep A. Invasive strep A is out there too. Having had strep A pneumonia and borderline sepsis twice, I very much do not want invasive strep A.
Itβs the little things that get us, right? Viruses, bacteria. Measles is a virus, like influenza and Covid-19. Strep A is a bacteria. I had very bad influenza in 2003 that put me out for two months. I read about influenza and thought, oh, we will have another pandemic and in fact we were overdue. They come about every fifty years. My children heard quite a bit about it. My daughter said she wondered if I was a little nuts until the ebola outbreak and then she decided that I was probably and unfortunately correct. The only surprise for me was that it was a coronavirus instead of influenza. That and that humans behave in very interesting and often dysfunctional ways when they are stressed: and the same ways as in the 1918-1920 influenza pandemic. Logic flies out the window replaced by panic, magical thinking and rumors and people happy to take advantage of others. Selling fake cures, refusing masks, refusing immunizations and denying that it is happening at all.
I took this in my front yard two days ago. They are called swamp robins here, but another name is varied thrush. I have never seen one in my yard before and there was a pair! I think I saw a fox sparrow as well, who are large, red brown and have lots of spots on the breast.
If it was a sunny day, the colors would be brighter, but you can see the blue and orange and black! Very dramatic! I need my kodachrome! It would also help to not be shooting through a window, a storm, in clouds. Oh, well.
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
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