….why paisley???

me at fourteen

at fifteen
i didn’t question
your packing up my life
in a garbage bag
and sending me to gramma’s
i wanted my freedom
i saw being sent away
as you giving it to me
i thought i had won

at twenty five
i didn’t question
abandoning my marriage
and two children
to recapture the freedom
i perceived
as having been stolen from me
surely the end
would justify the means

at thirty five
i didn’t question
getting clean
i knew it was
either quit- or die
i chose to live
as too much freedom
had in the end
taken me hostage

at forty five
i looked into
the eyes of a woman
i had never seen before

she told me
that fifteen year olds
don’t get garbage bags
full of freedom

that twenty five year olds
can disappear- but
they can never really
leave their children behind

that thirty five year olds
never really get clean,,
they just quit using….

and that the only way
to ever really catch freedom
is to stop running….

photo by: me 5/12/2008

i hung a hummingbird feeder
right outside my window
from here i can watch
as the one hummingbird
i have come to call “rupee”
guards it.
he hides in the branches
of the tulip tree
and when any other hummingbirds approach it
he swoops in and drives them away..
in its sweet syrupy confection,,
he is rich
but at the same time he is starving..
his entire existence has become a war
waged, as much against himself
as those that seek to share it with him-
as in his drive to control
that which has been so freely given to him
he has been made to sacrifice
his ability to partake in the glory of its sweetness..
in the end
he may very well percieve
himself the victor..
but i will know,
that he died
without ever having tasted
the true sweetness
of this simple gift of love…

photo by: me 5/9/2008

i found out by way of email last night, that my father is in the hospital again.. he has been there since thursday,, as a result of an electrocardiogram that let his doctors know that they need to get in there and replace his aortic valve,, now.. they have cleansed his system of the blood thinner, coumadin,, that was prescribed when he had a serious bout with atrial fibrillation last december,, and is awaiting a time slot in surgery…

the doctor plans to catheterize him first,, as if there are any blockages they will have to be addressed first,, and then after a period of recuperation he will have to go back in for the valve replacement… needless to say,, we are hoping that the path is clear for the valve replacement the first time they go in,, as two open heart surgeries can be a real stress on anyone,, even an old redneck like my dad…

as of this moment,, we are in a holding pattern,, at the mercy of the hospital and doctors schedules.. thankfully, they are keeping him in the hospital,, and his every function is being monitored,, so we are in the best possible situation given the circumstances..

as is the norm with my family,, they do not want any of us (my sisters or myself) to be there.. as “there is nothing we can do”,, and more importantly,, despite the fact that all of us maintain a “working relationship” any of our presence would add to the stress level,, instead of provide comfort..

this whole thing has me spinning between wanting to be there and knowing that doing so,, even tho it has been requested that i don’t ,, might be adding to an already stressful situation… i just this moment got off the phone with my sister,, and she said it has been requested of her too not to come.. so i guess i don’t feel quite so bad….

so helplessly i am off to work this morning,, hoping that they can fit him in the surgery schedule before there is an emergency situation, and knowing that he is in the best place possible in the event that there is…

i’ll keep you posted…

this is a photo of one of the outbuildings, on the property, commonly referred to as “uncle alvin’s cabin”.. it is called uncle alvin’s cabin,, in gracious memory of ben’s uncle alvin,, who not only built it, but lived out his days nestled away, in her sturdy redwood embrace….

photo of “uncle alvin’s cabin”, taken by me 5/9/2008

the bright red paint
of her glory days
embedded deep
in her fine redwood
has been bourne away
with the breath of age
in a well worn spot or two

her floors and roof
have long since seen
their last, loving repair
but neither termites feast
nor natures tongue
can consume the
tales she has yet to tell

with outstretched arms
she draws me in
her breast warm
with long dead souls
as with labored breath
she resurrects,, all those
nurtured in her womb

and on many a
sultry summer day
as she sits alone
in the afternoon sun
she silently inscribes
the scrolls of her heart
with my life,, as we watch it unfold

a couple of days ago,, i read and responded to a poem linda originally posted on your poems. your stories.,, called the game… and ever since i have been thinking seriously about the ramifications of what i wrote in response,, a poem called i’m ready,, and how it translates into my daily life..

for those of you that don’t “know” me,, i am reclusive.. very reclusive.. i leave the house to go to work a paltry three days a week,, only because i have no other option.. every time i do, i spend hours arguing with myself,, and trying to figure out legitimate reasons not to go,, or create a fabricated reason that is untraceable enough to pass off as a legitimate one.. right this moment,, i don’t have to work untill sunday,, and already i am feeling the panic rumbling around inside of me knowing i only have two days left before i am expected to show up somewhere outside of my world…

i leave my little property maybe once every two weeks to obtain provisions,, (always in the company of both of my dogs,, never alone) which i buy in bulk,, in order to try and to eliminate the need to leave the property at all..

i have no friends,, by choice,,, and because i alienate people.. i do not answer,, nor to i call out on my phone.. i do not attend any social functions,, and certainly never entertain guests.. (although ben was here a couple of days this week,, and for those of you that “know” me,, you know,, no matter how blessed i feel to have him in my life,, those visits are ever so stressful for me)

it only makes sense that,, given my cloistered state of affairs,, i have very little natural stimulation,, or shall we say inspiration,, and for that reason,, i have been relying entirely on prompts to stimulate my creativity for quite some time.. i do believe it has pushed me to advance myself poetically,, forcing me out of “self” in a lot of instances and pushing me to write about things that i most certainly would not have written about had i not been prompted to do so……

however,, you knew there had to be one of those,, didn’t you??? however.. i am bored with them.. i am bored with trying to take the prompt in a different direction.. i am tired of writing about what everyone else is writing about,, and i am tired of feeling as if i need to produce,, and often times doing so solely in the name of production….

in retrospect,, the prompts helped to get me out of myself,, and think about abstract things,, of little or no real consequence,, instead of focusing all eyes on me.. they have seen me thru the grief and depression,, and brought me around to where i find myself today.. and for all of that i am truly grateful…. but i think i need to stop…

you see, in reality,, i am, at this point,, sitting in a little shell of a little world,, waiting patiently for my dogs to die,, so that i can be released from all my earthly ties.. i will be 47 on the seventh of june,, too old to be who i once was,, and even tho i have zero inclination to ever be anyone else,, i am not not really old enough to legitimately expect to wake up dead any time soon…

so i guess, that means i have to find something to inspire me… something besides my past and the writing prompts i have relied so heavily upon over the course of the last year….

i am thinking today i will go out on the property and take some pictures.. i bought a digital camera like a year ago,, and have used it once… who knows… maybe i will see something thru its lens that will inspire me,, and maybe not… but, worst case scenario.. it will get me out of this chair,, won’t it??

photo:

http://ianni490.deviantart.com/art/Uninspired-56234101

this post is courtesy of three word wednesday

there is a back story to this,, and the poem may not mean anything unless you know what that back story is,, and why the things i have seen,, are weighing so heavily on my mind as the date june, 20th draws ever closer… and no.. i haven’t told anyone but you…..

if you would like to view the story behind this you may read the back story, here: (mis)information …

maybe june 20th
will come and go-
without incident.
maybe no one will die
or be seriously injured
and i will never have to feel
like i should have said something
maybe,, it was a dream…
maybe, i am not
a human portal after all..
maybe i cannot see the things
i think i have seen,
and i am being overly cautious.
for no reason at all…

but maybe,,
just maybe…
i will be right again….

photo:

http://fc01.deviantart.com/images3/i/2004/166/f/5/Fear.jpg

for those of you that do not frequent anna’s blog, free poems on a regular basis,, (and shame on you,, you know who you are……) i want to let you know that she has added a new duet of blogs that i am really in favor of supporting..

first of all,, and my favorite,, is your poems. your stories. it is a collaborative project on which we,, authors and poets alike can actually post our work (prose and/or poetry) directly to the blog,, (and, yes, of course you can link to your blog!!) thus making our work available to a larger audience,, and supporting the writer/poet community here on the web…

so if you are interested in a new venue for some of your work,, i would suggest you stop on over and have a read,, and feel free to register with the site,, and add your work.. wouldn’t it be wonderful,, if we could combine our audiences??? what a readership we could boast then!!!!

i have offered up my first piece for publication over there,, entitled, as the dust swirled,, and would really appreciate it if you clicked thru to have a read…

please feel free to contact anna either by email at anna (at) poempoempoem.com,, or thru a comment on either of her blogs if you need further information….

secondly,, its sister blog, poem poem poem is a poets resource blog.. it offers information such as:

1. an up to date listing of the working online poets.
2. a resource for finding “free poetry”. both individual poems and books of poetry
3. a direct link to purchase published works of poetry.
4. a link providing publisher information, for both in print and internet publications.
5. as well as an huge listing of poetry workshops available,, on a variety of subjects.

i have had the honor today of publishing one of anna’s poems, the mermaid poem over on the ink pot ,, so if you would enjoy seeing a sample of her excellent work,, you can drop on over and have a read….

the site is brand spanking new,, and is still in its infancy,, so your contributions, comments, and patience would be greatly appreciated… i just cannot help but feel these new sites have the potential to become a really great place to bring together our creative efforts…

the feed options for both poem poem poem and your poems. your stories. are available in the side bar, for those of you that would like to keep an eye on it’s progress,, and see if it appeals to you….

thank you in advance for your participation…

photo:

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Image:Favourite_Poet.jpg

seeing as how i have a built in aversion to anything sci-fi,, i had to take the prompt for read write poem in a bit of a different direction this week…..

twas me mother who told it
and she wouldn’t lie
she would rather cut out
her heart - or an eye
than spread the non truth
and so i decree
i me-self,, am the spawn
of the screamin’ banshee!!!

as me sweet mother told it
twas a quiet,, dark night
the candles was lit
and the fire was bright
they was havin’ a sip
of the irish whiskey,
when outta the mist
come the screamin’ banshee!

they heard her a comin’
but no one did run
as they was tippin’ a bit
and havin’ great fun
and no one was about to
abandon the bottle
yet there she was-
comin’ at ‘em full throttle!!!!

the menfolk they coward
behind the women’s full skirts
not a brass ball among ‘em
the no good irish flirts
and as she approached
it became clear to see
she had a wee babe in her arms…
and that wee babe was me!!!!

“quit your whinin’ ye wankers
you’ve nothin’ to fear
i am here to give, and not take
you got lucky this year!
i can’t find a sitter
me old mans on a drunk
and there’s no one to mind
this, my wee little punk!!”

then she handed me off
and she fled into the wood
not screamin’ at all
rather laughin’,, but good!!!
they stood there all quite
each not quite believin’
the rare piece of luck
they’d been blessed with this ev’nin

that luck gave out quick
it went straight to ye midden
as they lifted the blanket
to see what they’d been given
twas the face of an angel
all pink skinned and red haired
” a little piece of irish heaven!!”
me auntie rosie declared…

and just at that moment
for no reason at all
me face wrinkled up
and i started to bawl
and let out a scream
heard from here to the sea
and erased any doubt
as me own sweet mother will tell ye-

that i am the spawn of the screamin’ banshee!!

photo:

http://plim-chan.deviantart.com/art/The-scream-64789938

i called her today.. i called her because i wanted to tell her how much i loved her,,
how much she means to me.. how she had once been the very center of my world…
and no one had ever been able to take her place…

but instead we talked about the weather,, and her class reunion
and the way that age had of making things that once seemed all important
bleed and fade like the ink on the unpreserved page….

i called her today,, i wanted to remind her that she was my first love
that i had never loved anyone as much as i loved her,,
that it was her love that had made all other loves possible..
and against which they would all forever be judged

but instead i told her about the the poem i had written,, and the book i think i may well never finish,,
we talked about the garden and the dogs and the man who said he would come to cut the grass,,
but never did…

i called her today my heart so full of love,, my mind overflowing with memories
of the times we spent in each others arms,, the tender goodnight kisses,, the loving glances
that stripped me of my insecurities and made me feel as if i could conquer the world….

but instead i told her that i would talk to her later,, as this long distance was costing me a fortune…..
and anyway,, i should be feeding the cat,, and getting the dogs in for dinner,, or folding the clothes
that finished drying an hour or so ago….

i called her today,, with every intention of making today the day i told her
all the things that have been weighing so heavily on my heart,,
all the things i have wanted to say for so long but had never garnered the courage to do so,,
all the things i don’t want either of us to ever leave this world without me having said…

but instead i waited until after we had said our good byes,, and added,, almost as an after thought,, “mama… i love you…”

photo:

http://fc07.deviantart.com/fs7/i/2005/203/8/5/a_phone____by_Gazo.jpg

this weeks writers island prompts worked well together for me…. i originally wrote this as a prose piece,, but the line breaks became necessary in order to punctuate it properly when the peice is spoken…

try reading it out loud….

there have been times in this life,,
when i have been inhabited
by a rather ferocious identity…
times i found myself blinded
by selfishness,, or anger,, or drugs,,
or a dangerous cocktail
made up of immeasurable quantities
of all of them….

there have been times
i am willing to admit,,
that you had reason to fear me,,
as i had nothing to lose,,
and you had better hope,,
i did not want what you had…

the problem
with having been that person,,
is even tho i know
i am not her any more,,
i understand now,
that all of us have
that inner beast,,
that animal,,
that will do
what it has to do,,
to survive..

most of us will
never be pushed that far,,,
most of us will
never know what it feels like
to lose all sense of right and wrong,,
to be blinded with addiction,,
desire,, anger,, hatred…
but i assure you,,
no matter who you are,,,
it could,,
and will
happen to you,,
given the right set of circumstances…

so as you experience
people that you don’t understand,,
people who have made
what you judge
to be ill thought out lifestyle choices,,
people that you pride yourself,,
that you are not,,
my suggestion to you would be,
to take a good long look
at that person
that stares back at you from the mirror….

you see,,
i know who the person is that’s staring back at me..
i have seen my inner beast…
i know what she is capable of..
i know what evil
can come to life in a mind
if the right set of circumstance provides itself..

but most of all…
i know,,
i am just like you…
and it could very well be you,,
that has that lesson yet to learn….

photo:

http://tweedsocks.deviantart.com/art/Inner-Beast-20065764