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Posts Tagged ‘Becky Sain’

look across the open distance
a light
glowing
leading us to where it is
showing us everything in our path we have no worry from the things we can not see because the light is always there never fading bringing us back on course when we sway too far but even the light knows we have to walk in the darkness, alone, sometimes

… and yet
when we are standing under the light we can only see what is close and we are afraid to look past into the unknown of that darkness because there are things waiting for us out there

underneath the light it looks different
faint
small
the light only reaches those few feet in front of us
we squint and make our eyes small to see just a little further we force our eyes wide open hoping we can see past the barrier the light has created with the darkness so careful to stay in the boundary of that light because the darkness overpowers us and strips us of the want to move rooting our feet in the ground below we are powerless to move beyond

… and yet
from this distance we can see there is nothing to be afraid of and the things that frighten us stay away from the courage that leads us forward, always forward

the beauty of the distant light
calming
drawing us near
we navigate the obstacles in the path leaving the barriers behind we are not moths drawn to a flame we are strong complicated beings moving forward through the often darkened path sometimes afraid but courage is born from the fear that so often halted us now we will soar to the distant light, alone, sometimes

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Thank you Hyde Park Poetry Rally!

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I wish you could feel how tightly this grip is wound around my soul,
it cuts off all the oxygen that lights the candle flickering in my heart.
I pause and look and twist my way to try to loosen it.
I squirm and yell and curse and it never unravels, but I do.
I begin slowly like a single thread from your sweater that gets caught on a branch as you leisurely stroll by. You pull it, quickly, trying to remove it before further damage is done but you aren’t quick enough. It begins to unravel, more and more with each attempt at stopping it… it unravels until there is a hole — one that is visible to everyone who walks by. They try to pretend to not look, to time their glance with the movement of your eyes so you don’t catch them.
But you do.
You see them peering at the hole that started so small but now shows the world your fleshy skin underneath.
And it all started with that grip.
The one I placed on myself to try to snuff out all the worth that others could see because I didn’t want anyone to see. I wanted to be invisible, to slip under the wave and never be seen… I wanted to meld into the crowd of ordinary people gathered at the ordinary coffee shop to talk about their ordinary lives because no one pays attention to them. Everyone walks right past all those ordinary humans on their way to some other place. The place everyone wishes they were.
I wonder how tightly the grip has them.
I wonder if they smile so no one sees the unraveling.
I wonder if they laugh so no one hears the distant scream.
I wonder if they squirm when no one is looking.
That grip.
So tightly it holds.
The bruising can not be concealed.
and then…
I stop.
My movement.
My breath.
My anger.
My fear.
I breathe — deep, slow, deliberate.
I will every ounce of life into my lungs till I can hold no more.
I am filled with the life that I am claiming. It is mine, unmistakably mine.
and then…
I exhale.
Slow.
Calm.
Steady.
Peaceful.
That grip.
The steady stream of pain subsides in that instant I decided to not notice because noticing only gives it the power it never deserved. I stopped squirming and fighting and reviewing the repeating scenes — I stopped waiting for a change… I am becoming, I am becoming.
The grip is there…
always there, attempting to enforce its power over me when it knows I am barely breathing and trying to be small and searching for answers that don’t exist and wishing I was invisible.
But I am not invisible.
I am alive, still.
… the grip, it loosens.

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all these things
fill our minds and hearts
make us remember and help us forget
make us lie to stay hidden
make us draw the curtains so no one will see
all these things float around us like fire flies on a warm summer night slowly our hand reaches out to touch the light and it vanishes only to appear further in the distance so we move again and again we reach but we’re always a step behind

all these things
churn around in our thoughts
so close to answers we don’t know we need
so close the heat from reality turns us a bright shade of pink
so close we turn away from the unfolding scene
all these things chip away at the hope you hold so tightly because if you let it go you disappear and no one sees you because the hope is the only proof you were ever there but it keeps slipping out from the cracks you can’t quite cover

all these things
can not be willed away
we learn so little from sweetness
we learn too often from the leftover scars
we learn to stand on uneven ground
all these things lead us to the path we follow the one that is barren of footsteps and hope until we take our first step then the path molds to us and we light our way with dreams and the path is ours and only ours it’s been waiting for us to begin to live

all these things
look like a distorted photo
we squint to see the detail
we squint and hold the picture at awkward angles
we squint until we can open our eyes wide
all these things we think have ruined us and broken us and kicked us repeatedly when we were already pleading for understanding have made us somebody who no longer waits for the silence to break and no longer stands still too afraid to begin and no longer asks others to point us in the direction of our own courage
all these things help us land exactly where we are
… right in the midst of our beautiful lives

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awake and unafraid

maggie and milly and molly and may ~~

ee cummings

maggie and milly and molly and may went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

 .

here

in the very best possible way… you are small

dig in your toes

breathe

let the ocean wash over you

proof, you are

awake and unafraid

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must have inhaled a thousand times,
trying to escape my mind,
just pretending to be blind,
hoping you can see inside,
all these breaths,
a thousand times.

must have tried on a thousand skins,
hiding behind the walls within,
waiting for the touch of a friend,
someone who knew it was all pretend,
all these masks,
a thousand skins.

must have hoped on a thousand stars,
saw them clearly from so far,
their light crept through the cracks in my heart,
their shine would cover up these scars,
all these wishes,
a thousand stars.

must have cried a thousand tears,
like anyone who’s lived these years,
seen my share of conquered fears,
grabbed my courage and drew it near,
all these heart-breaks,
a thousand tears.

must have given up a thousand ways,
saw the smile across your face,
a reflection of a courage filled place,
knew this was my sacred space,
all these chances,
a thousand ways.

must have exhaled a thousand times,
trying not to criticize,
all us learning we can fly,
spread our wings and take flight,
all these breaths,
a thousand times.

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(this picture is of a secluded lake I found when I needed to take a thousand breaths)

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the alarm sounds,
the day begins.
the sun appears through the curtain,
pink and purple and orange,
the sky blazing with the colors of the day.
so much promise ahead,
possibilities are endless,
no one yet set in their concrete ways.
the light glistens of hope,
it glances at these scars that won’t fade.
turn the page,
find the words.

the dreams are quieted,
hushed by my thoughts.
the list is filled,
everything carefully planned,
all the steps of life right there,
everything in order except my mind.
covered by a questioning stare,
tell me what I’m thinking,
reveal my thoughts,
I’ll try not to disappoint.
turn the page,
say it a million ways.

take a ride with me,
these journeys are never completed alone.
bypassing every memory,
here and now is where we’re headed.
it’s an unmarked path,
bring your courage,
pack your bravery,
shake the dust off your back,
be kind to that pile of regrets,
we’re not coming back.
turn the page,
another chapter is waiting.

don’t avoid the pain,
turn it to a poem,
invite everyone to read,
don’t worry that it doesn’t rhyme.
I know the things you’re learning,
I figured them out when I let the past go.
do-overs are real,
they occur every day,
tethered by a million strands of love,
the light has always been there.
turn the page,
the plot is building.

the moon is taking its place,
smile for the stillness,
listen and breathe the empty voids.
the darkness presses against the window,
I can see its breath,
I can hear its beating heart,
timed perfectly with the bravery of letting go,
the courage of taking a step.
the night cushions you like sand on your toes,
dance naked on the shifting beach.
turn the page,
this is our story.

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I want to believe.
I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
I’m scared of the words I put on this page,
fearful of the direction my thoughts will go,
unsure of the meaning,
avoiding the necessary pattern,
constantly questioning my motivation,
my sanity,
my ability to get you to hear.
… am I speaking too softly?
… have you tired of my attempts at clarity?
… could you see when I was weak?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
I can’t find the brevity needed,
stringing words together so fast even I lose track,
my mind wanders from present to future to past,
randomly thrown together in a delicate mix,
waiting for a sign that you heard,
hoping my courage is safe,
hidden in an ornate metaphorical phrase.
… which words did you hear?
… am I still brave?
… are you leading the naysayers?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
these words are neither black or white,
the picture they paint is in clear gray,
the mind they reveal is focused,
the beautiful disillusion of purpose,
pull it all together,
sit up straight,
breathe — become.
… are we safe in each others hands?
… does the sparkle still show?
… is a smile hidden inside?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
moving away from concrete ways,
a chattering mouse quieting herself,
a novel destined for publication,
always becoming better,
welcoming revisions from a soul-filled author,
a story that needs to be told,
a song you will always remember.
… did I make you stumble?
… will you hear my melody again?
… am I learning who I am?

I think I belong,
I want to believe.

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Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you’re perfectly free. ~~ Rumi

I break open and scatter on the floor
the spatterings of a dismantled heart
jettisoning the refuse to make more room
more room
move over so the thoughts can travel out and grab you
these ramblings
rays of hope and possibility and love
bleeding from a barrel forgotten in the rain
and I am left dancing in the middle
unaware of the spinning all around
the final splitting of the frayed rope is easy to spot
the million tears that got it there are invisible
there is fighting
fighting for control of the words
the words that spew from a beautiful mind
each word trickling out from the vein of my thoughts
forming a puddle at my feet
and I dance in my blood
the beautiful sheen of those blood splattered words
never again afraid to tell a story
the strength we have is always in us
never broken or lost or hopeless
the shit-spilling stories become our therapy and turn to art
displayed with such a lack of caution you forget to be scared
a deserted path waiting just for you
calling for you like a wolf hypnotized by the moon
it’s song is powerful
a single note can not sing the melody
these words do not tell the story
I tell the story
I control the words
I choose when to arrange them in a cry for acceptance
I choose when to arrange them in a scream to be heard
I choose when to arrange them in a whisper of possibilities
I choose to arrange them in a courage filled bomb that explodes all around
I am filled with more chapters than you can imagine
I want you to imagine
I dance around
smiling
laughing
loving
I break myself open again and scatter myself on the floor
and I dance in my blood

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I watch you,
staring so intently at the collection of toys you sculpted out of clay.
each one had your full attention,
each one felt the love of all your heart,
each one created by the bliss that lies in your mind.
I hope you have that forever.
I hope you never lose passion for things that matter.
I hope you always lose yourself in those creations.

I watch you,
your eyes sing a song the whole world can hear.
each glance takes a brick from the wall around my heart,
each glimmer reveals my lovely world,
each look brings me closer to understanding love.
I hope you see the world through those eyes.
I hope you never lose sight of your own perspective.
I hope you look in the mirror and smile at the reflection.

when the mountains in the distance scare you
… just climb them.
when the song seems to have no rhythm
… just sing it.
when the ocean looks too deep
… just swim it.
when life overwhelms you
… just live it.

I watch you,
your voice rolls sweetly across my ears.
each call of my name hangs in the air,
each laugh shakes the world free from doubt,
each question you ask has a million perfect answers.
I hope you hear your thoughts in a crowded conversation.
I hope you never listen to that voice that tries to quiet you.
I hope the story you tell will find the perfect audience.

I watch you,
my arms stretch out but know to grasp you loosely,
each breath I take leaves me hoping for another,
each thought I have is peaceful in its chaos.
each tick of the clock comes faster than I want.
I hope you take the path that calls for all your courage.
I hope you never stand still when the dance floor needs you.
I hope you leap and know your wings have always been there.

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So this is what it’s like.
The dark so thick no glimmer of light can get in.
The air so stale my lungs lurch to escape the fumes.
The sign reads, “no train horn”.
My head hurts.
My eyes are blurry.
My heart sings with the questions that only clarity can answer.
So… Many… Questions.
A million ways I’ve asked.
A million ways I’ve tried to be heard.
A million ways I’ve tried to explain a piece of the my soul to you as if there could ever be an explanation that would shed light on the darkened path that we can sometimes travel if we allow ourselves to float freely down the rabbit hole.

So this is what it’s like.
Figuring out who you are through someone else’s eyes.
Their vision is so cloudy they stumble and fall on my mistakes.
The sign reads, “you are here”.
Looking for myself.
My finger scanning the map.
My mind wanders from place to beautiful place.
So… Many… Places.
Not pulling you back to the abyss we’ve already visited.
Never wanting to pull you back.
Pulling you back would mean I’m still there too looking for some dysfunctional company because that’s the only kind of friend who would crawl into the rabbit hole with you, a beautifully fucked up friend.

So this is what it’s like.
The tunnel you’ve been crawling through suddenly opens to a rocky shore.
The rocks are so jagged but on the other side is the sweet ebb and flow of breath.
The sign reads, “always becoming”.
A calm exhale.
Toxic thoughts pushed out by the salty ocean air.
So… Many… Thoughts.
Letting go of all the small things.
Blocking them from ever returning.
The small things grow into big things and those big things can pull you under, so far under that your lungs scream at you because you’re breathing through a straw so you turn away from the rabbit hole and you grasp the hand of that friend and you walk away and dip your toes in the cool ocean not afraid to look back.

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Photo From Kind Over Matter

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