What Can I Tell You?

Credit: tinybuddha.com

I cannot tell you that it will not hurt

That the psychic pain will sear you

burn you to your very core

I cannot tell you that your body will become a wasteland

that you will look like a refugee from the worst of domestic wars

That you will feel like a starved prisoner

trapped in a situation for which you have no control

I cannot tell you that you will not worry

That every movement will be fraught with fear about your future

That you will be staring down that black hole of endless bills and debt

I cannot tell you that you will not be angry

Foaming and raging at the actions and constant manipulations of the other

That his need for control will feel like another constraint and strangulation

 

I can tell you that the pain will fold itself into the dark corners of your heart

That your body once again will be fertile ground

I can tell you that you will become a citizen of your own nation

a freed captive with a belly full of self-protecting ammunition

I can tell you that every advance will be fueled by your freedom

That the once endless abyss of scarcity will overflow with abundance

 I can tell you that your resentment will replaced by indifference 

that you will be the mistress of your own destiny

and the  queen of your own kingdom

 

A Wiser Woman

Credit: www.flickr.com

 

She’s just like him

Words of wisdom from a child

He keeps his distance

Stands his ground

 

I had never seen her

But became acutely aware of her on that April morning

You know that feeling when someone is looking at you behind your back?

I turn to look

She penetrated my gaze

Followed me out the door

I turned once again

Laser-like, strong in my volley

I sensed an artist of insinuation in my midst

I knew we would meet again

I began to notice and be alert for her comings and goings

She was easy to spot

Devoid of femininity

Nearly transparent in nature

Rail-thin

Her body a void

Dressing as a slacker social climber

Expensive jeans

made by poor souls in Bangladesh no doubt

The Designer Look that lacks originality

She appears to be his twin

A mirror image of him 

 

As the seasons change, she creates a perch in the shop

A table by the window for her phone, Ipad and coffee

Trying to look earnest and important

She is a user of men

Flaunting her wiles for her own gain

Acting helpless while they lick her feet

I cannot warn them

I can only watch

Be careful my boy says

Keep quiet 

Those behind the counter are trained to smile

but are aware of her guile

 

Her mission with me is incomplete

I am replete with stellar intuition

and spiritual revelation

I can handle any situation

My grace and style help me walk the mile

She hasn’t been around in a long, long while

Being in the Distance

Credit: www.lululemon.com

I smelled the rain before I saw it

Butter in the air

The roads were still dry after yesterday’s Spring baking

 A welcome sign then after Winter‘s marathon of cold

As I neared the pond, I could hear the first drops’ pings hit the leaves

Too late to turn back and I never would anyway

By mile 1 the roads were already glistening

I was stiff and moving slow

but not really thinking of  when I would end this march into my daily reverie

Warming up the mind occurs at mile 2

When the bell tower was reached, I turned to hear a friendly beep

My white truck clad neighbor

An incentive to go further than planned

The rain drops seemed to miss me

as I descended the long hill

and turned left on the only flats I swear exist in this town

My cares and worries from yesterday fell to the pavement

melting with the sky’s happy tears

My Sunday expedition reminds me of why I lift my feet

take in my surroundings

watch my world change minute to minute

I take stock and notice with all of my senses

I seem to float on the next mile’s ascent

This town is full of hills

A runner’s speed work in disguise

I realize the rain has picked up but I am barely wet

This is a good place to be

                   Alone

To not worry about what’s coming next, to just keep moving forward

Siridean

Credit: wildgoddesslife.com

   They may not know Her

But she knows their thoughts

She senses their neediness

their desires

the impulse to share their story

-a piece of  themselves 

She does not judge 

She  feels their pain

The stain

of  their indignities and indiscretions

their joys and sorrows

When She walks down the street

a sea of people part

nearly bowing in reverence

to Her very presence

They cannot help themselves

They yearn to touch Her

Her very being is an illumination

a soft glowing beacon

Her attention is discreet

The slightest of touches 

temper their souls

surrounding them

in a healing blue light

She is a weaver

a Tantra  goddess melding together

the human and divine

A starry  messenger

 A natural-born remedy

A harbinger of peace if only for a whisper of time

 

2014-04-08 09.52.48

 

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Not sure where I got this from to be honest. Thanks once again to Kellie Elmore for taking me to a place and space I never expected to go!  Plus the added bonus of adding Poem #12 to WordPress’ challenge!

Namaste’ my friends!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The In-Between

https://i0.wp.com/24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3qhmcculP1r653yzo1_500.png

Credit: safedefense.tumblr.com

 

I live in that space between then and when

               I am neither here nor there

Moving out of the now into what was meant to be

  The here having a lesser hold on me, a looser tie

              The there tugging at my heart strings and molding my mind 

      In this middle midst I place myself

                Setting free the old wounds

                    Knowing I have given birth to many new lives

                                                  Pieces of myself

                                      made whole once more

 

Inner Reflection

Credit: www.zillamag.com

Do you ever want to be a stranger somewhere

to walk alone into a crowded cafe’

and be silent and still

lost in your own world? 

Do you ever want to remain anonymous

to sit and lose yourself in daydreams

making up  life stories about the people around you?

Do you ever want to leave your appearance at home

to walk in unadulterated and unadorned freedom?

Do you ever want to cast a long shadow or vaporize into the mist

or become that crystalline air that takes others breath away?

Do you ever want to flow like the tides

to roll gently and smoothly

in and out of your own consciousness?

Do you ever want to let go of the world

its teeming madness and incessant obligations

and offer them over

surrender them

and transform them into silence?

Do you ever want to sit with yourself

peel back the layers of hardness and pain,

allow yourself to soften and ripen,

to be at one with Mother Earth?   

 

Would you reflect the majesty of the galaxies and the glory of the heavens?

Would you capture your essence, the core of your soul?

 

 

Journey to the Other Side

Credit:  intentblog.com

At the time of the dismantling I used to wonder

used to sweat in desperation

used to be ensnared in your endless games of lashing out

 for  punishment of things that I did not do

for the person you thought I was

the one who punished you for her own guilt

At the time of the dismantling

I felt myself wasting away

sick with a loss of control over my own destiny (or so it seemed)

eager with a morbid curiosity about your private transgressions

At the time of the dismantling

I used to wish you would become a stranger to me

someone I would pass by on the street or the airport without notice

someone I would see by chance who didn’t bring me to the brink of madness

At the time of the dismantling

I wish I wouldn’t recognize you

to turn my head in instinct at your unwelcome presence

a witness to your lingering lurking

and latching yourself to people and places where I could be found

 

At the time of the rebuilding

I ceased to wonder

 became refreshed in renewal

no longer trapped, but free in my freedom

At the time of the rebuilding

I felt my self growing

a woman with curves and flesh

the mistress of my destiny

no longer curious but filled with awe at new love found

At the time of the rebuilding

you became unfamiliar

a transient that I passed by with ease

no longer on edge, existing on a different plane

At the time of the rebuilding

I no longer took notice of you

I see you on the street at a distance,

at peace with knowing that the long ago parting happened to someone else

 

Witness

Hunger by TessCummings

Credit: howtheotherhalflives.deviantart.com (Hunger by Tess Cummings)

 

The list resides on a yellowed pad

Necessary nourishment for the coming week

We stop here first before our feastive task

Caffeinated fuel and friendship

A 21st Century Communion

In the shop’s short distance

A dear friend is spied

A light touch to greet her

Deep hugs and hushed whispers

Our minds meeting for a minute and more

 

But ensconced in the corner

Nearly unnoticeable from view

Sits the Serpent Sipping sumatra opposite a slender lass

His head a crusted flesh

 

For me: a glimpse of recognition

A trickle of fear

A tiny rat-a-tat-tat of  the heart

But for the first time a small measure of sincere safety, a healthy emotional distance

A graceful departure

 

This crinkly creature

This squalid stranger once starved three loving souls

Sacrificed them for his vision quest

 

Yes, the memories linger still

Days of bare cupboards and hollowed tummies

Secret stashes hidden from him

Stunned into silence

Bullied and Blamed by the Beast

A Buried Hunger hidden from everyone and ourselves

 

At present day an unfilled refrigerator and a paltry pantry give rise to a familial panic

A sign of a decade’s old deprivation

 

The yellowed pad travels with us

The list an act of defiance

A shout out loud

A second slaying of the dragon

And always a Harvest of Hope

Magdalena

Source: We Heart It

Source: We Heart It

She ambled out into the hush of the city’s streets,the Arctic air at once taking her breath away and filling her lungs with renewed life. The spectacular chill washed away the late night’s pungent plundering. Another evening another man.  Pure bliss coupled with an exacting need to refill that sugar in her bowl.  The dark season only increased her need for the heat of skin on skin. She liked the anonymity of it, never knowing quitewhat to expect even when she was well acquainted with her conquests. The conversation ended as soon as the key unlocked his door. She wasn’t interested in small talk or the intimacy revealed in some random deep conversation. Each encounter was a relief and a revelation, each getting their share and never once feeling used or abused.

She never liked to stay, never enjoyed the tangling of limbs and sheets in the aftermath. Never wanted to greet the day with him. She preferred a quiet exit as he lay soundly sleeping. Nights like this when the world seemed dead asleep were hers and hers alone. She could make first tracks. Listen for the squeaky crunch of her boots on newly fallen snow. Shelter  herself beneath the awning of her umbrella. Alive,silently satiated, but still simmering with anticipation, awaiting the sensual mystery of a subsequent surrendering.

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#FWF Free Write Friday: Time and Place Scenario

by Kellie Elmore

An image prompt that took off down an unexpected path. But hey, isn’t that what free writes are all about?  I am thankful once again to Kellie Elmore for helping me tend to my muse! XO

Unchartered Waters

Source: We Heart It

When he first left, she felt that she had been tossed overboard. Forced to swim against impossible currents. Paddling with one oar. Surely, she was gasping for air.  At best, she could tread water.

If she stood still too long, she could feel a nibbling at her feet. Those predators sent from the deep to test her willingness, her courage to face her darkest fear: Could she make it on her own?

Then as sudden as the tide turns with the pull of the moon, she discovered the means to propel herself through the fierce storm of waves and the deepest of  cold waters. With each stroke,  the oasis of a new beginning was within sight.

Weary and worn but never defeated, she arose from the surf. Transformed from her journey through the salty brine, she reached  the shore.  Gorgeous, with the countenance of both an Amazon warrior woman and delicate nymph, she turned and bade farewell to a life laden with lies and libel. Her new path a revolution, a revival and revelation.

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#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

by Kellie Elmore

A Free Write Friday composed on a Sunday morning. Thanks to Kellie Elmore and all the other inspirational composers for their continued support!