from the nut house....

twas the night post thanksgiving, when all through the house
the grandpa was yelling, calling grandma a louse.
christmas decor was strewn everywhere,
"let's do it for the kids; shut up and bring me that chair."

the children were nestled all snug in their beds,
to the sound of flying ornaments hitting grandma in the head.
mommy in her room, hearing all of this crap
was getting so flustered she thought she might snap.

when up from the living room there arose such a clatter
not sure what it was, but i heard something shatter.
I rushed to the kids' door, closed quick as a flash
in time to muffle grandpa's, "I'll kick your fat ass."

the small one asleep in spite of it all,
i sent up a prayer, "let her mind not recall."
when what to my wondering ears should offend
but an air pump now running at 11 pm!

up early for school, the kids will be tired
but grandma's obsessive (and bitchy and wired).
i bit my tongue with all of my might
as the small one was crying; it would only cause a fight.

and now on to christmas i look forward with joy
more loving, warm moments for my girls and my boy.
so won't you come join us in our holiday cheer?
don't worry, the fridge will be stocked full of beer :)

what the!?

"mom, if your parents die, how many days of school are you allowed to miss?"
~my 10yr old son

.......should i be sleeping with one eye open?

warning: posting while drunk

reminder to self: once a prick, always a prick!

does "sorry" really fix everything? can u shove me onto the ground and bully and manipulate me, traumatize my children, put my emotions through a ringer......then "sorry, had a bad day" and it's all forgotten? somebody stop this fucking rollercoaster and let me off!

restlessness

the walls are screaming (or is it the children screaming)
they are closing in

an unwelcome guest
in the only place I have to call home
it is not my home
I am just visiting…….a long visit
too long

the tension, the peripheral glares,
the huffing and sighing
the forced smiles -
that mean I can hardly stand your presence
the not so straight forward comments (was I just insulted?)
it builds and builds,
so I hide in my tiny space

my salvation is my occupation
and my preoccupation
and it too wearies me
but I love it
and I hate it
and some day it really will save me
and presently it does

and my fantasies save my sanity
lest the cliff tempts me
with the not so far drop to freedom

but I wonder, if the promised land is too a mirage
will new walls cage me in?

maybe my promise land is within
god help me find it again
but not yet

makanalani

When I look at you, my little one,
I shouldn’t see my eyes or my smile
in your sweet little face,
but I do,
as you smile back at me
with expressions I recognize
as my own.

I watch you play and expect to find
some unfamiliar way in you,
some distinguishing characteristic which might betray
what my heart has come to believe,
that you are mine.
Instead I see myself,
a living depiction of the little girl I once was,
a girly girl, as you mother your dolls,
play in my make-up,
and make believe you’re a princess
in your fluffy, sparkly, night gown.

When you talk you talk like me.
When you laugh you laugh like me
and when you’re angry you’re stubborn, like me.
Our skin, our eyes and our hair are different colors,
but our spirits are the same.

You are my daughter,
predestined for me, as a gift from Heaven,
from the beginning of time.
Your name is no coincidence,
but was given to you, by God,
before you came to me,
to plainly declare His providence over your life.
You did not come from my womb,
but from His heart and mine
and there you’ll remain, always, my little one.

irish fantasy

Won’t you take me
with you,
on your ride to the sea
through the emerald green fields of Ireland,
to watch, as you say, the skies turn dark grey
and the waters, white with lightening?

Will you hold me close when the thunder roars
and the seas churn rough and angry?
I’ll pretend to fear, for my sake, my dear
just to feel your strong arms around me.

Let’s stay and watch, and wonder a while
at mother nature’s fury.
And then, as you say, a nice end to the day,
we'll snuggle by a fire.

A bottle of wine, a blanket for two,
the flames softly lighting your face
and the warmth of the fire will spark our desire,
take us to another place.

akram ali

we consider women in [the] east like [a] queen, no one can touch her...but in [the] west [women are] like cigarette, any one can smoke it and crush her by his foot.

today at the beach

you are invisible

my eyes are blind to your presence,
i no longer succumb to your manipulative smile.
my ears are deaf to your voice,
i no longer cringe nor shudder when you yell.
my skin recoils at your touch,
i loathe your greedy caress.
my nose is numb to the scent of your cologne,
the fantasies, once stirred, are long in the past.
i don't crave the taste of your lips,
they are like rotten food to me.
my heart doesn't flutter
when you walk through the door,
you no longer have the power to break it.

regrets

What thoughts did cross my child mind,
So young and free and undefined;
Dreams of love, of wedded bliss,
No visions of a withheld kiss.

Then, should I blame the younger me,
My ugly fate, who could foresee?
My ears had yet to be so stung
By his cruel and venomous tongue.

He tore me down, my spirit he robbed.
I hid my pain, in my pillow I sobbed.
I did fight back, you can be sure
But an angry life I could not endure.
Wearily, I at last gave in.
Why should I fight if I could not win?

But, why, you say, did she not leave?
My God, for love, I strove to please;
And too, my pride kept me at bay
From breaking promises made that day.
But now for wisdom, my God I plead;
Please show me where my path doth lead.

to all of my "concerned" judgers

it is true, i no longer am the person i once was,
nor am i yet the person i will one day be,
but for now this is all i can be.
so, go back to your perfect lives
and let me be.

just one thing to say

my husband is a prick!

to my best friend

you are my life line.

when i'm blinded by darkness,
you show me the way.
ever patient, ever caring, ever loving...
when it all falls apart,
you make me okay.

when i am weak you lift me
and help me go on
never judging, never leaving, always loving...
but i worry i'll hurt you
cause something feels wrong.

I wonder the nature
of your love for me.
always gazing, always smiling, always loving...
because breaking your heart
would be the end of me.

Let it rain

Let it rain rain rain,
(my sorrow-sharing friend).
Pour harder, splash violently,
whipping in the wind.

Thunder and crash,
as you rip through the night.
Your rage is my comfort
when I’ve no strength to fight.

Now hurt me so I may forget
my worst pain.
Cry louder, oh tears,
pouring down from Heaven.

Drown out my troubles
with your own sad song.
Now drench me and
wash away all that is wrong.

God?

God, are you there? Do you see? Am I justified? I know I am never justified, but I hope you will forgive me...I can't do this anymore. I'm not crazy. He is. I made a mistake...and made it worse by staying so long. Now I will traumatize my kids...more than they already are. I am so out of here the day I graduate! Please put them back together again, after we have broken them to pieces.
Amen

Closed Path

I thought that my voyage had come to its end

at the last limit of my power,

---that the path before me was closed,

that provisions were exhausted

and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.

But I find that thy will knows no end in me.

And when old words die out on the tongue,

new melodies break forth from the heart;

and where the old tracks are lost,

new country is revealed with its wonders.

-Rabindranath Tagore

lonliness

A lonely soul is like a bird
hovering over miles and miles of vast ocean
with nowhere to land.
His wings are heavy, his breath exhausted.
His heart battles between the desire to give up
and the seemingly irresistible urge
to believe false hope,
to find temporary respite on some twig,
some fragile, rotted tree branch,
which will surely crumble and sink
the moment his claw touches it.
He musters the strength to fly
from mirage to mirage,
looking, yet not touching,
over-ruling his desperate heart,
knowing his only true hope is patience.


The photographer calls this one, "In the search of love."

yay!

I got carded tonight! made my day! thanks cashier lady :-)

trapped in the present

my body is trapped in the present,
my heart lives in the future.
how does my body make it through each day
while my soul sleeps?
i perform my daily tasks,
i wake up;
i rush;
i work;
i stress;
i survive the day;
i sleep...
sometimes i sleep.
how long can i go on,
dead on the inside,
yet living life with my body?
will i make it up this mountain?
is there peace on the other side?
my present is my past.
how can i stay here?
i want to fly away.