Tears

Tonight I am crying, once again,
like an infant
I am crying for my Mommy
to take away the hurt
inflicted by yet another playground bully
But Mom is gone
forever
and I must dry my own tears.

He Done Is Him

He done
~ with family
~ with me
~ with work on the hard stuff
~ with promises
~ with the boring
~ with the mundane
~ with all things real

Now
~ fast cars
~ lean horses
~ hot women
~ no commitments
~ playtime, all the time
~ things, things, things
Is Him

He-don-is-m: Hedonism is the philosophy that pleasure is the most important pursuit

Urge

The urge comes again

to run

to leave

to hide

to erase what has become



I lay down

close my eyes

and

find the reason

and strength

to stay.

Definition

You are there
in Wikipedia
writ LARGE
by society's collective wisdom

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mid-life_crisis#Characteristics

But do I believe the reality before me or
see it simply as a
way out
of an act
you are now tired of playing.

Perhaps the answer is more
clearly

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/15/health/15mind.html

Closing Night

The auditions have begun
for my replacement
one by one
the parade of candidates
their auras awash in
pheromones
and fragrance
legs long and lean
hair that moves like silken waves
in the sun
curves of hip and thigh
unmarred by age and life
to rouse what I no longer can

I slink quietly to the side
and fade into the twilight
old, used and worn out
and I wonder
am I recycleable?

Could I be retouched
like the photographs
in the pin up
magazines - - -
Repackaged like an old
product
for a new market - - -
Made unreal in an attempt
to once more find something
real?

Do not erase

the Beauty of you
the rough edges and scars
make you the unique work of
Art and Love
that fills my dreams
three dimensional warmth
soft and hard
dark and light
One in Five Billion
just the way you are

Trust

I have lost trust
in so much
I took for granted
- love
- promises
- myself

I fall waiting for the bottom
but
there is no landing
hard or soft
there is only space
where Trust
used to be.

Mixed Outcomes

I miss. . .
- - - watching movies curled up on the sofa
- - - walking quietly through the trees
- - - the warmth of your body in the night
- - - the way you finish my sentences
- - - going new places, seeing new sights
- - - taking chances I would never imagine
- - - having someone to trust with my soul
- - - a soft place to land when I fall
- - - laughing about our crazy families
- - - crying at our losses
- - - celebrating our successes, great and small
- - - watching you sleep




But, on the bright side,

I do not expect much anymore - -

unwashed dishes and unmade beds are mine alone
coming home to a cooked dinner only happens when I plan ahead
and set up the crockpot
I know I will be the one to tuck her in, wake her up and take her where she
needs to be
I will be the one to answer her questions - - even when the answer is
I don't know. . .

Ten

She looks at sheets of paper
and sees airbourne stunt flyers

She looks at words on pages
and travels to fantastical worlds

She talks to my old Ted E Bear
and finds a loyal, lovable friend

Her questions range from the
mundane - - - - when are we eating?

To the funny - - - - if you were an animal, Mom, what kind would you be?

To the scientific - - - - why does vinegar smell like that?

To the unanswerable - - - - can we ALL go camping: you, me and dad?

Her face shows a glimpse of the woman she is
becoming
serene and beautiful and intelligent
beneath the long limbs that sometimes trip her up
and the forehead worried with
timetables
and essays
and the challenges of
friendships taking on new depth.

I want to hold her and keep her safe
from the World
of loss
and pain
and all that comes
with
being Ten.

Tattoo

Eighteen years of inked messages etched
across my skin like tattoos

each a mark of the journey
I have travelled with
you.



My body is marked with the memory of us

in the places you once touched and loved

and in the place She grew and came to life

and emerged separate and unique

Maybe that is why I cannot

wipe the past away with a damp cloth
or trade it away

like a used car

or give it to charity

like an outgrown suit

because for me

it is part of my very body

the lights and darks
sewn into me like the threads of a quilt
scars and marks of
motherhood and wifehood and family
I can not erase those marks
without erasing who I am and how I came to be
and so I will bear this tattoo forever

Conversations with God

So, apparently I was the
Answer
to a prayer
so many years ago when
I did NOT believe in prayer or its power

Now, converted, I realize it is like
Gravity
and belief does not matter
it IS

So now I pray
not for reconciliation
but for healing
and direction
and my own answer

Unsent Vent

The following are my sins for which I ask forgiveness:
I let myself get fat and ugly.
I stopped being fun. I nagged too much.
I did not hold you accountable enough and did too much.
I was not passionate enough and did not make you the centre of my world enough.
I was not neat enough -- I am a poor housekeeper.
I did not earn enough money.
I was too bitchy.
I believed too much.
I chased you and MADE you marry me.
I cry too much -- in fact I'm doing it right now.
I supported you too much in being a cop.
I didn't support you enough in being a cop.
I held on too long.
I let go too soon.

- - - - save as “Draft”

Do NOT send. . . .

Train Wreck

The intersection of
Past - - Present - - Future
Where the collision leaves
Broken dreams along with scattered evidence of life
Littering the scene into the horizon

Can the passengers be saved?



2007/10/21
ERO

RED

RED
the colour of
hate
anger
blood
serge


I hate what you have become
but
my anger is at the RED
and
I would shed my blood
to give you back
your Soul.

Education

So the lessons we are
teaching her
are these:
love ends
men don't feel
promises and commitment are disposable
adults don't solve problems - they leave them behind.

But,
I will let YOU
teach her,
as you are teaching me.

I want her to learn
feelings matter
challenges can be met
adults can be trusted.

Confusion

It would be easier
if
you yelled,
screamed,
hit,
with fists and words

but you don't

you just withdraw
and leave me
empty.

Threes

Deaths, they say,
come in
threes. . .

And so it goes
- my husband's soul
- my marriage
- my mother

And now I
take the Hand of
LIFE
and walk on . . . .