Spirit Guide

freedom

Emboldened by belief in forgiveness and peace

I have assembled all the ages I have ever been into this one woman before you.

I’m a wanderer. I have always lost track of time, and thought. I would give my last dime to a beggar on the street with a smile, wishing him well… no care for things I haven’t got.

No time to stop and think when the waters are restless inside of me. When even a flash of light can send me running through our streets at night.

Some call me crazy. Some call me whore.

Their words can rise from the dirt where I stand, pulling at me, trying to plant my feet in the ground, pull my poetry down without a sound.

I am indignant. I am an artist. My syllables pulled from my core do not speak the language of limits… they take my spirit with them… they endure.

I will outlive most of my critics. Its not just an accusation, its a simple observation.

I live inside of love. Unfurled on the floor you will find my words ringing in your ears-

Like a mirror reflects what is shown, I am a light that shines to the bone.

I am refracted by cruelty, but never reduced.

My poetry cuts in, my words a knife, it carves, and you’re seduced.

I am the butterfly whose wings wrap like words around the feet of my foe- intent not to follow- but to lead where you go.

An unbearable lightness of being will break the heart of the still breathing child- but I am their champion. My words cry out for their freedom.

A garden rich in its soil, will feed them. Their bellies full with the dreams they have eaten. I will but guide them with my soft colored wings..

 

Muscle Memory

There is a tree still standing in the Redwoods that remembers

There’s a ring sitting in a trunk under old love letters, and a woolen sweater, it remembers

There’s a photograph of your smile shadows cast by the setting sun in an album now covered in paper,

it remembers

And it’s been a while, but I recall that big sweet smile.

And I remember the Mean Green Machine of family celebrating your arrival.

I remember the first time you held my man, little man.

I remember your five tiny fingers on the left, and on the right

I remember that I loved you so much, you were worth every bit of the fight.

I remember your funny little toes, and your perfect little nose.

Today, while you are away this is where my mind goes.

I remember the time you said my name. The first I love you. Kissing away all your pain.

I remember when you were almost two and scared to cross the seams in the sidewalk…

I remember your proud brother teaching you to talk.

You make a perfect square. Together we are family.

Funny little one, how you fascinate me.

Great Experimentations

Time stalls in our presence… it stops to watch what we’ll do next.

When we were children we ran naked through a backyard sprinkler and the old lady who lived there yelled at us and threatened to call the police. We ran like little snipes from her yard and the delicious stolen droplets of water now pooling between our toes.

The winds stop moving at your command, I watch it happening with wonder as you wave your right hand.

You are ten feet tall and bullet proof, you are the epitome of a summer spent in a radio flyer, and treasures collected at the beach. You are sand between my toes, and sex underneath.

I told you once we were running with scissors, and there was never any safety net… I felt the chill in late september and a pain I haven’t forgotten yet.

Time stalls in our presence in a sleepy sort of way… It doesn’t get things done, there is always another little something it needs to say.

Turn back the clock, meet halfway down the block, bring your Bird on a wire, and that rusted old radio flyer.

Pakistani children cool off by walking t

 

Stolen

I would not cheapen you with words that are small, or so big they don’t fit you at all.

You are the caffeine in my coffee, my wake up and face the world call out.

You are like the solid and unexpected 300.00 cash bonus I’m going to keep all to myself because Old Navy is having a sale, and I’ve been wanting to change my hair.

And you are the answer to the question I couldn’t ask, I wouldn’t dare.

You make me look at myself and remind me to laugh, and to forgive… I think you may be the only one I know who gets it and really knows how to live.

You’re the chord in that song I can’t stop trying to play.

They tell me you will disappear without apology one day… but to them I simply say

He would not cheapen me with carelessness, or act simple, or unsavory at all.

I am the last snicker doodle in the bag, I am a soft safe space where your hurts heal.

I’m the hot bath at the end of a long day, I’m the keeper of the lost word you forgot to say.

I’m the fingers on that right hand, right now… reaching out to feel.

It is every day, and in every way my  heart you steal.

 

 

High Stakes Claims

I watched the snow fall, I watched his tears fall. We didn’t speak, but the cold and crisp cold mourning said it all.

Love doesn’t live here. He could not watch her go.

I heard the crunch of cold under his boot,  I held my breath my heart calling .. “o please, turn one last time, give me one last look”

Waiting for his goodbye is like stopping, and stalling. On the freeway.

I’m waiting for the storms to pass and the carton of milk to expire.

Staking this heart on a pyre.

pretty good year

prettygoodyear

Change. 2012 brought nothing but the unrecognizable…

These things I miss…

Creature Comfort

Self assuredness

One of the most amazing people I will ever know.

Good times had

Friends who I somehow outgrew… I still love you.

Innocence.

That which I can live without…

The insincere

The selfish

The foolish

Voices raised in anger

Debts

The near loss of a loved one

Still I know despite all its unsettled dust this is my jumping off point. In a year or so, it will all change again, I  know. So… then  for now I want to thank my loved ones for being part of the weirdest, wildest year of my whole life. Im proud of all of you who played parts in the story we are still trying to understand. And Im proud of others too, for their contributions, their solutions, some elegant, some disgusting, some still so… enticing. 2012 I cannot say I will miss you, but like the song says, an old friend like you cannot be forgot.

Back In School

IMG_0182To teach a man to fish,

To teach a man to fish, you have to KNOW how to fish already, don’t you? What’s a girl to do who doesn’t know how?  There are lots of things I can teach someone to do, and at least one or two of them may even be useful.

But what of that stuff I can’t? I’m serious. What about the stuff I never bothered to learn? How do I teach my kids the things I know are important that I don’t already know how to do?

You wanna know what fear is? Look into my heart and eyes at moments like this, when I see something happening to my kids, or see them struggling and see where it could lead in the future and I know they don’t know it because I never showed them how, and knowing it’s because I didn’t know how myself.

Because that’s the job. Teaching these little people who look at you, turn to you, people you made so blindly, not knowing what you didn’t know. If I were my boss here, I’d fire me most days.  Other days I would give that girl a raise, a hug, and even a high five or two.

 But when you look into the abyss, and see the ignorance you didn’t even understand was there before, you can’t run from it. And I swear to each of you reading this, and to the Big Kahuna out there, I will try to learn. I Believe when you know better, you do better. I always have, and for me it’s always been true.

I can’t stay organized, I’m a major offender of tardiness, I’m not consistent with projects, or well anything.  And I see my 13 year old forgetting his signed note, losing it somewhere and I can honestly say here, I don’t know. Did he lose it because I can’t teach him how not to, or did I lose and I have simply forgotten?   That’s just a fraction of what these moments lead to.

 

How do you teach an 11 year old girl to embrace what you see is beautiful and unique inside of her when you have never really done that yourself? How do teach her not to accept less than she deserves, and stand up for her own dignity?

Children learn by watching. We always say that, but they’re watching us. All the time. And we’re always doing things we wish they won’t. And we can’t stop. Or don’t.

They say the world is made round so we will not see too far ahead. I suppose that is true because somehow we still have to sleep at night. I know I need it. A friend told me today that for her, ignorance is bliss. Well you know, sweet friend that is because you are not yet a mother. We cannot remain ignorant. This is a call to arms to my sisters, and my brothers, and mothers and fathers.

 

Learn 3 New things Every Single Day. Something about the world. About a friend or loved one. And something about yourself.  Start there. And then take that something, and share it. Forgive yourself of your short comings my friends. I will try to do the same.

My dad one time said something to me about things he saw his own children doing, and realized he had handed down a world to us he didn’t understand. 

And you know what? I don’t know today, even still a better father. Not kidding. He was fun, and still is. He smiled, and still does. He taught me to swim, how to throw a punch, how to read, and to love music. If I am going to learn something new today, I could bet my boots he’d be the first one I’d ask. And if he doesn’t have the answer, that’s ok, because he can get it from my mom.