It’s raining, It’s pouring

Trying to find the positive outlook,
In too many nonstop days of rain.
Gray skies, a few minutes of sun struggling to break through clouds.
Followed by more rain.

Go to sleep listening to the rhythm of the rain.
Wake up to misty drops
On the windows.

Breaking records should be exciting.
But not when it’s rainfall,
Inches and consecutive days.

At least my hair is curly,
My skin is hydrated,
And the fire danger is low.

I’ll try to focus on the positive.
As I navigate potholes,
Dodge puddles,
And hope the wind doesn’t snap my umbrella.

Alone together

Random thought triggered by a character in a book I was reading.

I like being alone
I like being together.
What I don’t like is
feeling like I’m alone
when we’re together.

TRAIL acrostic

Time to
Reflect as I walk for miles
Along a path instead of a road.
It doesn’t matter if I’m in the woods or a rock canyon
Life feels right when I’m on the trail.

Broken

You never know where inspiration will come from. My MacBook power cord bit the dust recently.

Broken

The end of the extension cord
Flops
A wire slips out
A wire that should be inside the casing
A wire that should be a continuous strand.
Broken.
From too much use.
One bend too many.
A metaphor?
Maybe.
For all those times
We feel broken/
Like our heart has snapped in two
From loving too hard
And one too many stabbing words.

Not as many repairmen and women
These days.
And so many things designed to be replaced
When they break,

Too bad you can’t replace a broken heart.

Untitled 2.21.18

It can begin with a word,
That sparks en emotion
or a thought.
And from that one word
a flood of feelings
are set loose
and pour out.
A torrent of
memories, thoughts, feelings, emotions.
that had been bottled up
for too long.
And all it took
was one word
said at the right time
to knock a hole in the dam.
That dam you had been building
to keep you safe
from whatever it is
you felt you needed to keep out.
One word
and your worst fear
is now your reality.

Holding back

Some things are too personal to share.
Although it is tempting,
Sometimes it isn’t a good idea
to spill your guts out,
expose vulnerabilities,
admit fear,
let the world in on
your deepest darkest secrets and fears.
Some things are best
kept to yourself,
Even if they burn a hole
in your heart.

2.18.18

Poem #1:
Writing the same story
I wrote yesterday
and the day before.
Does that make it real?

Poem #2:

Too personal to share.

Age of Innocence

I’m not sure I said what I wanted to say. I think I may have been purposefully vague and it didn’t work. But, I wrote it so I’ll post it. And maybe when I read it in a day or two I’ll know if it worked.

Wondering about changing course,
Circling back
to a time of
Innocence
Confusion
Fear
Friendship.
Unsure of what to do
Who to be with
And why it was so
hard to know
what to do
and to feel in control.

And yet,
The idea of circling back
makes sense,
Even though it is
still confusing
and scary,
Still not a sure thing.
And yet,
The possibility of what could happen
is enough
to make it feel right.
And maybe, just maybe
The innocence can be captured
Again.

Yesterday’s News

Yesterday’s page is blank.
No words
No thoughts
That needed to be set free.
Just a day in the life.

Today’s page is being filled
With yesterday’s news
And maybe a touch
Of today.

Moving at the Speed of Light

Moving at the speed of light

Some days I move so fast
that I wonder
whether I am running from something,
running to something,
or running in place.
Other days,
I just try to catch up to myself.

Thank you Joyce Maynard

Shameless

Oh how I wish I could approach life

Audacious. 

Rather than ashamed

for behavior that others might consider

Unacceptable.

Not holding back,

Feeling freedom in

Expressing myself, speaking and acting out,

rather than

hiding thoughts and emotions

that might embarrass my family, my friends, or me.

Thank you Joyce Maynard

For being described as shameless

And reveling in the compliment.

It’s time for more of us to be

Courageous

And tell the real story

Of our life.

Critics may call it
Oversharing.
Some of us call it
Truth.

The day meant for love

This definitely needs some editing, but I definitely need sleep, so here it is raw, unfiltered, unedited, my reflections on love the day before Valentines Day.

It’s the day before
The day meant for love.
So i watch birds fly across the sky
And wonderif there is an even number of them
And if they are all coupled.
I watch a spider and wonder
If he is proud of his web
And wishes he had a partner
To share it with.
I watch adults with children,
Moms, Dads, grandparents, caregivers,
And try to guess if they are family
Or hired.

Saint Valentine
Didn’t have a bow and arrow
And Cupid is a fantasy.
But love is real.
Couples are real.
Unconditional love is real.
So why do we feel like we need
To buy cards
And chocolate
And fancy dinners
And flowers
And whatever else is being pitched this year,
To prove love
To show love.

Do these items symbolize
The feelings of heart and soul?
Or have we become conditioned to need
To give and receive these kinds of things
As a way of showing love?

A day for love,
For celebrating
The love you feel
For someone else,
For yourself.

Happy heart day!
However you choose to celebrate
And express your love.

The Artist WIthin

They say there is an artist within,
waiting to be let out.
All you need to do is open up
and let her or him free.
Like so many things,
easier said than done.

Coffee shop, Table top

Four top,
Two couples,
One conversation.

And then there were two.
People
One couple
One conversation.

And soon there will be none.

Variations on a theme

Sometimes
a quiet evening at home
alone
is more important than
putting myself out there
making an effort to socialize
expending energy to meet people
on the hope that I will
meet the one
or anyone.
Sometimes
it is easier
and more enjoyable
to save my energy
for myself.

Solitude isn't loneliness.
it's something everyone needs
access to.
It's a time to regroup
energize
relax
rest
and have no obligation to anyone
except yourself.

Sometimes It's possible
to feel alone
in a crowd,
to feel lonely
in a room full of family,
to feel alone
in a relationship.

Feeling lonely and trapped
isn't solitude.
It's hell.

A slightly more upbeat version on the same theme.

Quiet evening at home
alone
in my sweats
with
a bowl of popcorn
a comforter
a book
and access to Netflix.
Alone and happy.
Satisfied with life
and enjoying the solitude.
I can interact with people
tomorrow,
if I have to.

And another take.

Alone at last.
No people
no commitments
no conversation
no mood to decipher
no need to respond to someone else's needs
no need to prioritize based on someone else
no drama.
Just space
and time
to fill
as much or as little as I want to.
Alone at last,
free at last.
Time for me.

Breathe

This one is kind of lame. I’m not sure it says what I wanted to say.

Breathe.
In and out
Slowly.
Stay alive
Stay calm.
Inhale
Exhale
Keep it even
Relaxed.
Listen to
The sound of air
Being sucked in
Then gently blown out.
In and out
Life goes on
Life happens,
Just breathe,

Love Starts Here

Give yourself
a dozen roses
or whatever it is
you would like to get
from someone who loves you.
Give yourself
the respect and support
that you give others.
Give yourself
a chance
to become the person
you want
to be.

Logomachy

The word of the day is

Logomachy.

Pronounced like loh-GAH-muh-kee,

Loosely defined, it means 

an argument about words.

Kind of like a matter of semantics.

As in what the hell do you mean?

And why did you say it that way?

Can’t you just say it

Without using a bunch of fancy words?

A dispute over words

Sounds like a relationship

That is unraveling.

Hello world

Hello world,
Wheels are rolling,
again.
Seeing how far I can get
without looking back.

So much to see.
So many things to do.
Time
won’t wait,
So it’s time to move on.

Got

itchy feet,

a wandering mind,

and a searching soul.

Hello new world!

Please,
Help me remember,
I don’t know what I’ve forgotten.
Names, faces, places,
It is so hard to make myself think.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.
Please help me.
I don’t want to forget everything.

The mind works in mysterious ways

The mind works in mysterious ways.
That’s what they used to tell me.

As I get older

I realize that

The mind works in logical ways

That may seem mysterious

But are actually fascinating.

The body acts physically

The mind reacts.

Or maybe it is the other way around.

Either way,

It is amazing what my brain can do

And how my mind decides to deal with it all.

It’s not always pretty.

But it works.

Goodbye Yogi

Yogi is gone.
I held him as
his grumpy face relaxed
and he took his last breath.
We had been separated for too long
and I felt grateful to have him back
in my life
even if it was just for one day.
A day of cuddling,
stroking his soft fur
and enjoying life number nine.

His face never looked
the way he made me feel.
Somehow he always knew
when I needed to snuggle.
Or maybe he was the one
who needed to be close.
He was pretty good at climbing up
and butting his head
into me
until I couldn't help but sink my fingers
into his soft fur
and scratch. 

Goodbye grumpy face,
Luckily your demeanor didn't resemble your face.

I'll miss you Yogi.
You lived up to your name.

Pre-ter-natural

Preternatural.

Existing outside of nature,

Extraordinary,

Psychic.

Preternatural,

a word that can be used to describe

the abilities of

exceptional people.

Sounds unearthly.