Tag: escape
This poem was written a couple of years ago as part of my writing class’ found poem project. (A found poem takes existing texts and reorders the words. Usually, I select anywhere from 75-150 and then cut them in half. Then from there, I construct a poem.)Mountains on My Mind
I dream of a woodland retreat.
A mountainous oasis.
Walking in the forest
Bathing in nature
as the green canopy of hardwood trees
sways and sings.
My boots help me find my way.
I pause and listen to a rushing stream.
As I leap onto slippery and misshapen rocks,
I pray for balance.
I lean toward the outstretched hand of my son,
who seems to have danced on the water.
His fording is eased by the length of his body.
I long to be more limber and less awkward.
My backpack hugs my body
I feel oddly at ease with its great weight.
As I take deep, deep breaths,
I feel the tension slough off my body.
Can mountain air comfort you like a warm blanket?
The long granite beds replace the scrambled boulders.
Another summit
Another Celebration
We rest upon them and gaze into Infinity
At one with the Divine
Day 6: In 12 days I head north. My spirit yearns for cooler altitudes and time with my tribe. The photo is from a hike to Camel’s Hump in Vermont that Emily and I completed. I have yet to write about that day! One of the most mentally challenging in my life…
Safe Places
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.
The Road to Consecration
Image courtesy of: Jenny Grant
She turned to face him:
Which mask to wear today?
It was hard to gauge his mood with the thickness of sleep still bearing its weight on her body
Her mind is murky
She lets out a sigh
Feeling safe only if she lay on her left side curled up and in her own embrace
Much better to fall off than brush against the beast
How long could this charade last?
Lately she had matched his deceit with her own
Not out of some need to enact revenge
She wasn’t even sure how far he had gone
But he wore his lies like an ill-fitting suit
The pants dragged beneath his heels
The jacket was two sizes too small
And the buttons were askew behind his lengthy tie
When she would point out the mismatch between one tall tale and another,
he would insist that he was misheard or misunderstood
Keeping track of his dirty deeds became a game of survival and self-protection
His self-involvement and vanity distracted him from noticing her wily ways
Still, she was weary of feeling undone
Every encounter exhausting
Every conversation calibrated
Today would be the day
Holding her breath
She slipped out into the early light
Suitcases already packed in the trunk of her car
The papers and house keys lay on the kitchen table
Woman!
We have lift off!
She exhaled and let out a silent cheer
She had no compass
Just her authentic self
The only true guide to the road within
Day 27. The word is authentic drawn, from a conversation yesterday with Emily- although the subject matter was different. I hadn’t expected this as the outcome but certainly the theme of freedom is on my mind these days.
Withering Vines
Image courtesy of: Pintrest
A Reflection
A Pleasing Woman
A Magnificent Mind
A Soft Spirit
Working hard at denial
and unconscious obfuscation
Practicing the art of avoidance
Folding within herself
A verdant vessel for a vacuous seed
Hoping for a change through sweet offerings
While gritting your teeth and conjuring a smile
You’re building a gilded cage
Your tongue bleeding with the words you wish to say
Your feet tiptoeing
When they want to stomp in frustration and irritation
Is it easier to acquiesce?
What is it that you fear?
In time your ebullience may ebb
Your smile may turn into a sneer
And the hard work of keeping it together may exhaust you
And then your unraveling will begin
Day 11. The daily prompt was Unraveling. I am far removed from my former life on so many levels. But today’s prompt had me thinking of women who sacrifice so much of themselves, buying into the fairy tale, afraid of being alone and staying too long because of fear of looking like a failure or fear of poverty or something much worse. The chance to regain yourself and build a better life is out there and worth the fight.
Wide Awake
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!
Breathing Room
I ran this morning until it hurt. Perhaps I was inspired by my work colleague, M. whom I met on the trail somewhere after the 1 mile mark. She was heading North to Dunedin on a 30 mile run. We spoke at length about life as it is and the need for running. How we write lesson plans, letters, solve problems, and create new ideas as our feet guide us to known and often unknown destinations. Her goal inspired me to run further after a week of not running at all. It was completely unplanned; I surely had plenty of time-more time than usual last week to get in lots of running. Yet, I found myself letting things unfold. Yoga and chakra meditation really called my name. The weather was cool-very cool and windy- and I welcomed the chance for a hoodie and windbreaker to walk in on Spring Break.
Spending time with myself and loved ones down here was the goal. My stepdaughter and I enjoyed lunch and long walks and big talks together; we grew closer than ever. Emily was down for a family obligation and managed to drive the extra 115 miles to see where I live, accompanied by lovely Lillian, her daughter. Her mid-week visit filled my soul and ironically, made me feel more grounded here. Showing her and Lillian the sights of St. Petersburg was truly a thrill.
Mountain Women on the city streets!
On Friday, I spent the morning walking the beach at Indian Shores, listening and looking. Seashore treasures abounded:
Peace was at hand at hand-at least for a little while. 
Saturday dawned and we headed for a run on St. Pete Beach, where my father lives. He thought only my husband would be out and said I was a “good surprise” so early in the morning. I decided to walk and talk with him. Simply wonderful! Later in the day, we joined him and others at a waterfront joint, enjoying the turquoise water, slow-moving boats and surfacing dolphins. We celebrated a traditional New England St. Patrick’s Day dinner that night at our house.
Still, the specter of insecurity persists, seeping into conversations in the midst of sunshine and laughter. I continue to resist, shining my own light, becoming the change I wish to see.
Respite
Image courtesy of: QuotesGram
This morning the park is quiet, gray and green
Last night’s cooling rains have tamped down the heated energy of the universe
I am soothed by the lack of searing light
Today I will rejoice in the unfolding
Allow myself to pause
breath and meditate
create and love
move forward
keeping my eyes on the prize
And let the winds carry my cares away
I am honoring a request from Tasmania (whose comment I read this morning and accidentally trashed; please forgive me :). This poem is total stream of consciousness. Thank you for reminding me of my other creative gifts.
Shadows with No Light
You were seen downtown one Sunday morning hanging out at the local cafe’
Pretending to be part of the beautiful people in a tony town
Hung over from a Saturday night of shallow dinner party dialogue
Getting wasted on wine and secretly lusting after the host’s wife
to alleviate the ennui of suburban existence
Your companion is a farce masquerading as a woman “Who knows Who”
When in reality she is merely a vapid vamp mirroring a myriad of other MLFs
You fit well with the air kissing crowd, capable of crumbs for conversation
You feed each other tidbits and then fuck each other into oblivion
Drown your demons if you dare
But heaven and earth will not be moved by your denial
No shifts will occur in the course of your creation
You’ll just descend further towards a self-created hell
Day 28. A trip to the dark side of suburbia. No apologies for the epithet. It seemed to fit the message..
Once and Now
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.
