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Posts Tagged ‘Friendship’

I sit and look out,

hearing the ocean rolling in front of me…

head back,

eyes closed,

… and I’m gone.

Counting on my daydreams to carry me away,

and they do, quickly…

I can taste the salt on my lips,

the uncomfortableness of the sand scratching my skin,

the breeze — the breeze is welcoming across my burning skin.

The sun is high in the sky but my daydreams don’t care,

they grab hold of my thoughts… filling my head with a world of forgotten promises.

Our truths are so varied but we end up at the same place,

a ship bringing us close to shore,

safely.

If I could fly… I’d spring out of this dream and jump in the waves,

I’d relax as the water churns around me,

I’d forget to remember that the world can be messy.

I’d forget to remember that bruising is a lesson I needed to learn.

I’d forget to remember my way back isn’t through you…

and it’s not here.

Not on these pages.

Not in empty words that bring me to my knees.

Not in a half truth.

Then I know…

the way back is in this wave,

carrying me steadily along,

building and building until it’s out of control,

a tidal wave spilling onto a beach because it got in its way.

The pain surges through my mind as I crash without warning,

left to sort it all out,

separate it into neat organized piles of chaos.

Here…

in the debris left behind,

is my beautiful star.

Here…

in the debris,

is my necessary truth.

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My mind keeps searching for the answers…

harassing my thoughts like the waves with the shore.

Everything that I’ve ever known…

can’t compare to what I forgot so long before.

me,

… always becoming.

I look up to the night sky…

comforted that we share the same moon.

It makes me smile…

even when I walk this beach alone.

me,

… always becoming.

I wrote out so many of my hopes…

and tossed them in the sea.

letting all those scattered thoughts…

fill the space in between.

me,

… always becoming.

I’m tired, I need to rest…

still battered from handing you my words.

I remember that horrible feeling…

as if my parts were all left in discord.

me,

… always becoming.

Sitting on this beach, my bruises so exposed…

feels like I’ve walked a million miles.

Dreamt in black and white of this hope…

shielding my soul from the brightness of your smile.

me,

… always becoming.

Trying to gather all the pieces of my heart…

holding them so delicately in my hand.

You’ll find me standing at the edge of the shore…

watching the waves battle my footprints for the sand.

me,

… always becoming.

My hopes bottled up…

rolling away on top of the waves.

I willingly tossed them…

now it’s clear how to be brave.

me,

… always becoming.

I’d walk those million miles…

just to sit on that beach for a while,

just to feel the cool ocean breeze,

just to be there and relax and breathe,

just to dig my toes in the same forgiving shore,

I’d walk those million miles.

But now I know,

the tide rolled away, again…

and me?

I’m always becoming, always.

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i should write a poem when i’m pissed off,

the words will spit fire from the page,

the images i conjure will illustrate my rage,

but writing a poem when i’m pissed off makes me smile…

and then i’m not pissed off anymore.

i should write a poem about my heart being battered and bruised,

the things i say will tear at your soul,

i’ll lay out all my pieces and you’ll try to console,

but writing a poem about my bruised heart makes the pain go away…

and then i don’t feel so bruised anymore.

i should write a poem when i know i have truth on my side,

the more words i write, the more suspicious it sounds,

even i will start to question the truth that’s lying around…

but writing a poem with truth on my side makes me question,

and then truth isn’t on my side anymore.

i should write a poem when my mind can’t settle down,

the thoughts will be jumbled and completely confused,

the words will leave you more than bemused,

but when i write a poem when my mind is jumbled…

i don’t question the clarity anymore.

i should write a poem when i’m happy and content,

the sappy words would be oh so sweet,

the sticky taste is just a deceit,

but writing a poem when i’m happy and content leaves me bored…

and when i’m bored i’m not happy anymore.

i should write a poem about the cruelty of silence,

i should write a poem about the helplessness of being misunderstood,

i should write a poem about the bravery of just being.

i should write a poem about…

 searching, finding, losing, struggling, holding on and letting go…

 falling down, getting up, being stuck and daring yourself to move…

 being depressed, being relieved, learning to lose and learning to love…

i should write a poem about how we are always always becoming, always…

i think i’ll write a poem…

i got no other plans.

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Someday I’ll wish upon a star and
wake up where the clouds are far behind me ~~~ E.Y. Harburg

Step 1

Stay away, no… come closer.

I can’t decide.

I’ll wake up soon,

The world will be still,

I’ll breathe again.

Step 2

Left out here on my own,

To piss off the world.

I’d love to throw these stones,

But they’ll come hurling back,

Bruising me deeper with each collision.

Step 3

I’ll take the blame,

Whatever you need.

No more words drowning out the music,

No more impulses that can’t be controlled,

Just… stay.

Step 4

Just leave, go away,

I should always be alone.

The waves are so high,

They’ll crash on me soon,

Over and over and over.

Step 5 

It’s not brave to accept the inevitable,

There’s nothing poetic in letting go.

Giving up isn’t acceptance,

Caving in isn’t relief,

I’m not so… delicate. 

…  and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true. ~~~ E.Y. Harburg

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I discovered this wonderful new website called, a human thing. It inspired this poem. Please go there and look around, it will make you feel all warm and glad to be a part of this wonderfully messy world that we all share.

… and we dance around in the chaos of the waves,
wondering what the tide will bring in.
shifting from side to side,
digging in our toes.
… a human thing
… and the waves pound us,
deep in the chest,
trying so hard to take a breath.
listening for the voice,

looking for the beacon.
… a human thing
… and we steady ourselves on the uneven surf,
waiting for the calm to fill us.
our religion is here,
where the waves battle the sand.
… a human thing
… and i turn my head to look at you,
the tightrope we’re walking between the waves and the shore.
connected by the messy beauty of love,
the grayness of that space between.
… a human thing
… and so many of us,
unbalanced on the sand,
a community of reluctant warriors.
the strength we see in the others,
inching our way closer to the waves.
… a human thing
… and we keep falling down,
it’s so hard to keep our balance.
i feel a hand reaching for my light,
pulling me to my feet.
… a human thing
… and connected together,
we’re much stronger in this space.
as we all breathe in the love from each other,
falling down,
messing up.
… a human thing
… and if we loosen our grip on each other,
we may get tripped up by the sand.
don’t give in to the sea pulling us under,
we’re all navigating the same stormy ocean.
… a human thing
… and these tangled words,
they tend to lead our messages astray.
but we’ll breathe and we’ll leap and we’ll evolve,
connected like kite strings,
drifting up from the surf.
… a human thing
… and somewhere in that salty mist,
our bare skin is so exposed.
we look at all the others gathered here,
holding each other in our hands.
… a human thing
… and love is so much easier than we realize,
a laugh,
an ache,
a song,
a story,
a smile,
a painting,
a poem,
a glance backwards as the words bounce around on those waves that are far less intimidating when we’re all shifting on the sand together,
this is who we are.
this is who i am.
… a human thing
… a human thing
 

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Where am I now?

… looking around at the soul unfinished, seeking out the answers yet to come, learning to swim along the jagged edges, wishing this part in the middle would be as glorious as that part I know is waiting at the end, writing a story whose ending is mine, living a life whose heartbeat is mine, looking through cloudy eyes.

Where am I now?

… sitting in the middle of a bed, my feelings scattered all around me, letting go of the I think I’m crazies, hanging on to the edge of the grey colored messes, gold sparkly glue binding my thoughts, wading into the deep end, standing under the waterfall, looking at a shooting star, wishing to see what I already have, writing the words that will make it all clear.

Where I am now?

… driving in my car from place to place, waiting each week for the safety net, reaching out to you, wondering how I fit in, taking control of a runaway train, laughing at the distant thunder, perched on a sled waiting for the snow, throwing the leaves just to see where they land, walking a trail that may not end, staring out the window, pushing the pedal to see how fast it will go, settling the hell down.

Where am I now?

… abundantly distracted by the wiggling of my own toes.

Where am I now?

… feeling my way through the murky water.

Where am I now?

… trusting in the silence.

Where am I now?

… following my smile out the door.

Where am I now?

… here.

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Hi kids…

I’ll be playing in someone else’s sand box this week!

Follow me, as today I take on rejection and Alexis Stewart — 10/30/11

Craving Rejection

Today, a poem — 11/01/11

Today, I am small…

Today, some fiction — 11/03/11

Wrap You In My Arms 

 

 

 

 

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I know how to save myself… I learned when I was in undergraduate school. My senior year I was in need of a PE credit. I perused the course catalog (yes, back then it was an actual book you read) to try to find something that would interest me. Aerobics and dance and jazzercise all seemed a little too girly for me… when I finally caught a glimpse of a course title that read “Advanced Life Saving”. Wow. I knew this was the class for me as I was about to embark on a career as a Special Education teacher… I wanted to be prepared.

On the first day of class, I felt very nervous and out of sorts when I walked into the classroom and the instructor was in her swimsuit. She began to describe “Advanced Life Saving” and how, when we completed the course, we would be the best lifeguards in the area — “What? How did this happen?”  I was admittedly a good swimmer, as a tomboy athletics were my natural default position. But, I was very unsure about whether I was good enough to be a lifeguard — saving a life seemed a bit too superheroish for me and saving a life while your own life hangs in the balance, while you’re treading water, was a concept beyond my comprehension.

I’ve never been a girl who passed up an opportunity to show-off for the boys, for the girls, for the squirrels perched in the near-by trees. Since the  town I grew up in was surrounded by lakes, many of my “I’ll take that dares” involved water, but, I was never the first one to plunge off the rope swing dangling from the rickety old tree branch or jump off the bow of the boat in the middle of the murky water or jettison myself from the bridge as my friends cheered below — I did all those things, but I did them at my own pace. Now… in my senior year of undergraduate school, I was about to face several months of daily prods to submerge myself and my fears in the pool that would be my classroom.

The first day of class, we had to swim 500 meters in under 10 minutes… or do it again. The second day we had to tread water while holding a 10 pound weight for 5 minutes (we had to start over if our shoulders went below the water). The third day we had to hold the 10 pound weight at the bottom of the deep end until the instructor tapped our shoulder. I was scared and thrilled and over-whelmed and energized and weak and small and… scared. I wasn’t sure I was cut out for “Advanced Life Saving”. But, I kept at it, twice a week for five months I walked into the changing area, shaking, nervous, stomach in knots over what might take place on that day in the pool. I jumped in the pool each day as if I was exactly in the right place — and I survived.

I have often forgotten that lesson. Life has a way of presenting itself so that we think we are out of air, that we are stranded on the bottom of a pool with the weight of the world chaining us in place, hoping someone comes along and taps our shoulder so we can surface and breathe again. When all we need to do is aim ourselves in the right direction and kick with all our might and reach for the fresh air waiting to fill our souls… always at our own pace. No one, no matter how much you look up to them or care about them, can propel you in a direction you aren’t ready to go. But, still, having someone willing to tap your shoulder when they see you’re running out of air is comforting, it’s human, it’s the connection that gives us life. What we do with the connection we have with others is left up to us — with it, we save ourselves… and sometimes, each other.

What I learned most in that class was that I could save myself… even when I thought I was out of options or air or strength, I could save myself. I have often forgotten that lesson.

So, here I am, a girl whose stomach is in knots, whose hands are shaking, who’s questioning her movements — but I am jumping in, like I belong here.

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Do you know me?

Did you look around the grocery store and see me comparing prices and values and after much deliberation I put the store brand into my cart because it was nine cents cheaper?

Do you know me?

Did you see me sitting in the corner of the coffee shop surrounded by friends, laughing, drinking a much too hot latte on a cold October day as if I belonged there and not in the confines of my own lost mind worrying about how to pay the soon to come gas bill?

Do you know me?

Do you watch me jogging around the block in my designer shoes and my name brand running clothes because I fit into them perfectly and you’ll never know they came from the thrift store you never go in?

Do you know me?

Did you hear me cursing under my breath at the gas station when I realized I couldn’t fill up the tank because somewhere in the world men in suits are arguing over the price of my life?

Do you know me?

I’m the one screaming in the corner of my mind that’s reserved only for me and the voices that keep me sane. I’m the one smiling so big because if you knew how close I’ve come, how much it hurt, how long and steep this road has been… you would run away because you aren’t that strong.

I’m the one writing it all down.

Do you believe in me?

Did you know I believe in me more than you will, ever. I believe I can and I am. I believe the fire was burning so hot and all I wanted was to jump in with both feet… no hesitation. I believe I can move forward without looking back but I believe I need to know.

Do you believe in me?

Did you know I feel a rush of emotions, like I set myself on fire, each time I think about the time I spent thinking about all the things that are scattered across my mind?

Do you know you should believe in me?

Because I am taking a tiny light and I am setting myself on fire with it and you need to stick around when the flame starts to dwindle because I believe you can help me burn.

I believe in you.

.

.

Many thanks to the poets at dverse for all their support!

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Wandering… alone.

Walking through the thoughts that hold me together,

keep me connected to your soul,

tether me to a place that allows me to breathe.

I want to stay here.

I want to never leave.

I want to drown in this rising current.

I want to slip under the wave of emotions that have eluded me for so long.

Wandering… alone.

Drifting with the undercurrent that once threatened to pull me under,

smiling at the jagged edges of my own heart,

laughing at the possibility of another missing piece.

I am moving forward.

I am swimming in the feelings of belonging that pushed me away for so long.

I am whole.

I am real.

I am broken and mended, I am childish and wise, I am piece-milled together and I am perfectly imperfect.

I am remembering how to swim and not just float.

I am learning how to live and not just react.

I am reaching out  and not retreating to the dark cave of my stoney heart…

I am polishing my stoney heart.

I am thinking.

I am feeling.

I am wondering.

I am loving.

I am pausing.

I am hesitating.

I am rushing forward.

I am wandering through this sandy beach and feeling the warmth of the sun…

I am reflecting, not dwelling.

I am learning, not reliving.

I am just a girl,

who once was scared,

who once needed company at the bottom of the water filled cave,

who once lost herself.

I am just a girl, who wandered… alone —

and found a world.

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