Tag: desire

Safe Places

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Hiking, Home, Independent Woman5 Comments

 

Is home just a place to live?  Is it just a place where we feel most safe?  Is it a place that makes us feel most strong? Is it a feeling, a desire, to be our authentic self? My ultimate desire, my safest place-my querencia- is to be at or near the mountains. Walking in the woods. Pausing to listen to a rushing stream. Jumping rocks to cross to the other side. My backpack hugging my body. My boots helping me find my way. Time is suspended here. Distractions are few. Troubles fade. Hopes soar and the Divine presents itself.

Last summer, I completed my first solo day hike. I had not told anyone of my plans ahead of time. I told my sons the morning I was leaving. I knew the men in my life would try to discourage me, not because of my lack of ability but because of safety.  But jerks exist off the trail and the mountain was one I knew well, having climbed it twice before.

The hike is easy enough, with some hopping over stream beds and slight switchbacks. It doesn’t take long for the sounds of the parkway that cuts through the notch to dissipate. I remember the heaviness of the summer air that day. It didn’t take me long to work up a sweat. My legs easily climbed up and over tree roots. I stopped to pause now and then to take in the green canopy of hardwood trees. I took deep, deep breaths, grateful that the air I was taking in filled me with peace. Can mountain air comfort you like a warm blanket?

The higher I climbed, the more I felt the tension slough off my body. Each step made me feel lighter. I felt nothing but joy as I moved closer to the summit. With this mountain, you know you are getting closer. The sky comes into view above and the long granite slabs replace the dark dirt and fallen leaves on the trail.  Suddenly-it seemed- I reached the top. A long granite bed greeted me with views of four mountains in three directions. The ledges have steep dropoffs.  I gaze into infinity when I look below.

I am alone at the summit but not lonely. I am filled with wonder and awe as I am reminded of the love I have for these mountains. I leave the summit with a renewed strength and the affirmation that this is home.

Wide Awake

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetryLeave a comment

Image result for now i can see

                                                 Image courtesy of: Genius

Blindly

I could not see the damage to your soul

Blindly

I thought I could love you through the break in your heart

Blindly

I followed the false path that you contrived

Blindly

I thought I could take it

The sadistic words

The trepid  fear of you

Blindly you moved further

Becoming lost to us and yourself

  Blindly

I thought it could not get any worse

 And then

Blindly

I stayed

Until I became invisible

Even unto myself 

Cautiously

I awakened

Carefully

I spoke

Purposely

I moved forward

Clearly

seeing the many paths I could walk

Day 10. Today’s WordPress prompt was Blindly. I had to wait all day to write this one!

 

At War With the Princes of Darkness

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetryLeave a comment

Image result for women power                                 Image courtesy of: Pintrest

                               

                               Daring and Damned

                        Undaunted and Unafraid

                           Loaded with Grit

                Deep in the Grip of Dystopic Decisions

             Diligently Designed to Disenfranchise

                            Dreams Denied

                Dehumanized and Demonized

               Do we Demote Ourselves

                                OR

         Denounce the Dilettantes of Democracy? 

                    Deviate or Endure?

                 Surrender or Succeed?

 

Officially day 1 of the WordPress  Challenge. Day 2 for me!

 

Between Certainty and Doubt

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetryLeave a comment

Credit:www.liveluvcreate.com

Standing at the window she looked out at his car backing out of the drive

and wondered what she was saving her feelings for

She nearly said “I love you” the night before

He was clearly waiting for her confession

She couldn’t keep up

Her heart had been closed off for so long

She had forgotten the rules

Of course she loved him 

But the words dried up in her mouth before they could escape into the air

This affair was no practice session for the next one

She knew it in her gut and he did too

The angst and agony and the suffering

that comes with the human condition

pulled her away from the edge

of the one great leap into the blissful abyss

Would her fear of making him feel better

somehow be a loss that would make her feel worse?

 

Day 29. In the process of digging through an old trunk, I came across a yellowed piece of paper in my twenty-something handwriting.  Some anonymous long quote about the risks of loving another. I held onto it and this is the result.

Once and Now

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetryLeave a comment

Credit: acelebrationofwomen.org

Once cowering, a wallflower at a junior high dance

Now prancing, a thoroughbred fresh from a sweet victory lap

Once previewed and reviewed through the warped lens of  snide criticism

Now judged in the reflection of the mirror born of her own making

Once held back by the selfish needs of another

Now setting her own pace, advancing audaciously to meet her own desires

Out of the shadows

Into the light…

 

Day 18. Started the first two line this morning and got a bit stuck. Then I read Mark’s post over at Maleko’s Art.  His piece was all I needed to help me finish.

This is once again dedicated to all of you experiencing any form of abuse or working your way out of the situation. Man, woman, child. It doesn’t matter. You deserve your own life.

 

Self-Savior

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry5 Comments

Credit: www.bwss.org

In this season of renewal and reawakening can you transform yourself?

Can you peel back those layers that cover and cloak you?

Can you abandon your hibernation

and rouse yourself from winter’s slumber?

Can you escape from your own darkness

and fill the hole in your soul? 

Or will you let those layers weigh you down?

Will you face the ground carrying burdens

or cast off your afflictions and face the sun?

Will you be clearminded and level-headed? 

Or will practice continued insanity?

Repeating and Repeating and Repeating

and expecting a different result?

Or will YOU be the creator of your own deliverance?

 

Day 15.  This came from a place I haven’t tapped into in a while. A good sign. This is for Suzy Q and others who may need encouragement.

Skin to Skin

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry3 Comments

 

Credit: en.wikipedia.org

When he first held her she was all skin and bones

Rail thin

Emaciated

Drawn looking with hollowed cheeks

He held her gently for fear she might break

She seemed as delicate as bone china

Seeds of romance were planted

Enriched in the soil born from gracious tending

Seedlings took root

Then were transplanted

Growing stronger with every lustful union

He wrapped her in white downy covers

Cocooning her and feeding her with the sweetness of his love

She began to bloom

A lustrous buttercup flower

Rounder

Displaying curves and small handfuls of flesh

She’s bursting

A luscious garden

Born again

Sown from seeds of love

 

Day 11. Inspired by one word: fleshy

A Conjugation

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry2 Comments

Credit: www.pinterest.com

Arriving for a Tuesday titillation

Shedding layers

Seeking sanctuary from mundane machinations

Standing bare

Longing for dark spaces and places

Lusting heat

Breathing in whispers and sighs

Touching skin

Exploring midriffs and thighs

Rising sensation

Tasting the sweet ruby fruit

Devouring delight

Giving sheer pleasure with each spicy release

Wanting nothing

Needing only pure physical touch

Dreaming spirits

Departing deftly with dawn’s early call

 

 Day 2 of NaPoWriMO. This is written as 2 poems combined as 1 with the odd lines being the first and the even being the second. A purely accidental play on words and a lyrical metaphor for the poem’s theme!

 

A Stella(r)Story

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction2 Comments

Credit: www.astrologyforearthrenewal.com

Stella knew for certain that she would never really miss Mick; only the idea of him. She was relieved when his piss stopped showing up on the toilet. He was once a stunner of a man in that rough around the edges sort of way. Compact and short, his presence loomed large whenever he entered a room. She liked his vehement attention at first; his passion for her was electric. Stella was stunned by his voracious appetites and his seemingly unending attention.

Stella wasn’t what you’d call a classic beauty. Kinky ashen curls decorated her cupid-like visage. Petite, with hips that swayed enough to turn heads and breasts that Mick compared to buttercups. He’d come home from work at the pit, shine himself up and lose himself inside her.

The ride was high for years.Two bountiful boys kept them on their toes and further fueled their passion for each other. And like a fast speeding car that encounters one hairpin turn too many, their affair flamed out. Mick’s craving for cards and the accompanying vices soon got the best of him and them.

The arguments and the silences that followed only got more fierce. Money got tight and then nearly nonexistent. He lost himself in the drink now; his once alluring bearing shrunken. He lurked where he once pranced. And then he seemed to just disappear.

Stella rose up. She wasn’t one to snivel nor shrink from a tough situation. Working the lunch crowd gave her a boost; her tips paid the rent and the hard work fueled her rather than leave her wasted. Months went by. The boys grew strong and steady under the tough but loving gaze of their mother. They would not mess around.Their fear of her disappointment outweighing any possible consequences brought by teenage temptations.

She had grown into her own woman. Stella-Bella all the men called her. Each one desperate in their desire for her. But she would have none of it. “Been there. Done that,” she said. Stella was sure that real love would knock on her door eventually.

And in a sheet of downpour on a windy April afternoon, he did. Soaked and battered and need of something warm, Jack slipped out of his drenched jacket and into her life.