Blissful

Blissful- 10/28/19

I have so much
A beautiful home
food and shelter
clean drinking water
enough food to eat
a happy marriage
a handsome husband
a large loving extended family.

i have everything I wanted.
I have everything I need.
So much joy, laughter and happiness-
despite my battles with
Mental Illnesses.

I realize how very lucky
I am in this single moment.
And I am grateful
that the Universe always provides.

I say that this is good enough
and I am blissful.

A gift

A Gift- 10/28/19

You are a gift to me.
Your strength gives me
courage.
You have always led the way,
in my darkest times,
You have tried to share your light.
You are my beautiful brillant
big sister and a gift to me.

You are my younger brother
and have also been there by my side.
Your wicked humor
is wonderful
and you can always make me laugh.

You have a maturity beyond
your years. You are also a gift to me.

The three of us share
the loss now
of both parents.
But I am so lucky to have you both.
We will get past the loss and the pain
because the three of us are still
together.

Spring sneaks softly

Spring sneaks softly in…

like a brown field mouse

hiding from Cats.

likes a warm breeze in between

the gusty cloudy grey sky.

Spring sneaks softly in…

like an afternoon nap

fading slowly pass or

like changing the clocks

forward an hour

spring sneaks softly in…

like a sunrise you almost

missed out on while checking

your cellphone constantly,

or when you realize that sweaters

feel both too tight and too warm.

Spring sneaks softly in…

while we are busy taking

winter for granted and have

completely forgotten what Summer is all about?

Spring sneaks in softly…

with the clearing of blue skies

the beginning of muddy dirt pies

the trading of gray daylight

for ever expanding bright sunlight

Spring sneaks softly in like a thief among

tulips and windy breezes

Spring sneaks in.

Dream Big! Go Home!

Dream big or go home…

some might say,

its awful sneaky to

base a poem on

a cheap cliche.

But sometimes, there are good reasons

why sayings become cliches,

each bears a grain of sand or truth

each came out screaming out from earth

Dream big or go home…?

What’s that even mean?

It seems to me the greatest dreams,

happen often when I am resting

at my home in deep reflection.

But sometimes, there are good reasons

why sayings become cliches,

each bears a grain of sand or truth

each came out screaming out from earth

Words are the stickiest form of clay,

they fall off of lips,

they tremble, they sway, sometimes

too many words get in the way.

But a good cliche, is never ending,

is born anew with each generation,

a good cliche will leave you

guessing…

Go big or go home?…

For me being at home is the same

thing as living large.

Most cozy, comfortable, reading

writing, day-dreaming & thinking.

I love to write. To not write it all down,

it would be awful, its with the love of language

I feel most at ease.

How will I spend a New Year ?

How will this year be different then all the rest?

It’s all in your attitude.The truth lies deep down in

the corners of your eyes-

not in resolutions, or words of surprise!

It is to take it all in with one full breath

and live in the moment-

do not dwell in regret

or visit imaginary future plans

take the NOW you are given,

and shape it with your fingers and hands.

Make each moment count-each memory last,

treat time as precious

like a gift spun of glass.

Go Big!! Go Home!!

Dream Big, fill your home and fill your heart,

full of love, compassionate,

and even art.

Make a dream, then feed it each day, to keep it safe

to keep your dream alive,

whisper to it stories, secrets and songs

bundle your dream

to your minds eye

surround it with fuzzy clouds,

and walk lightly

carrying a big stick

not to protect against any enemy

but to thump onto the ground

in drumbeats of certainty

encourage your inner clown.

Spend 2015 with Happy thoughts, countless blessings,

poetry, passion, happiness and attention.

Enjoy each and every moment anew,

because technical it will be.

Decide in your mind

Dream Big, Go Big or go home!

Dream big or go home…

some might say,

its awful sneaky to

base a poem on

a cheap cliche.

But sometimes, there are good reasons

why sayings become cliches,

each bears a grain of sand or truth

each came out screaming out from earth

Dream big or go home…?

 

Not enough

Not enough-

Dec 26th, 2014

Friday Afternoon 2:49 EST

Not enough

Never enough

Not enough

sleep.

Not enough,

to eat.

Not enough,

to touch the sky & kidnap the Sun.

Not enough, to learn how to fly,

just enough to become

untied

undone.

Not enough to reach outwards and find it.

Not enough to reach out, and grab the happy

right off someone else’s face,

because my happy

its become erased

misplaced

lost confusion.

It’s just not enough,

to fix up this place.

It’s not enough to straighten

this room, to clean between the cracks, to sweep

a broom across this dusty room

deep inside my minds eye.

Not enough,

to touch the sky & kidnap the Sun.

Not enough, to learn how to fly,

just enough to become

untied

undone.

It’s not enough to

try to run, to sprint, to finish

the race.

I’m fresh out of lungs

the air is too sharp, cold and dry-

It’s not enough,

to just sit here

waiting for you

to get home.

It’s not enough, to be a failure as a housewife,

to be a successful lunatic

with a Masters Degree

and no job prospects.

It’s not enough

to be a crazy person,

living on SSDI, it’s not enough, to always

live in someone else’s shadow

it’s not enough

to be the ghost

you can come home

and answer too.

Don’t you understand?

My wings may have melted, because I flew

too closely to the Sun

but I have dreams too.

I do not long to be

someone else’s

no one.

Anniversary Song-

A few days ago,

WordPress.com thanked me and

offered congratulations on writing this blog,

for two years now.

I cannot believe how much,

this strange, wacky, little blog

of mostly weird poetry,

has become so darn important to me.

To have that sensation of merely

scrawling graffiti on a bathroom stall

to realizing that someone is actually

reading your words,

paying some attention at all-

it is and remains rather

amazing to me.

That others might read, connect or even pay

any attention to me~it is a strange random fruit

a piece of delicacy.

I want to thank all my readers,

for jumping into the unknown with me.

For reading, for commenting, for bestowing

any attention to my small world

of poetry.

That has been the most wonderful surprise

of all. To be able to connect through the maze of the

internet, with readers, with other writers, with other poets,

with anybody ever at all.

I celebrate this anniversary with all of you.

If no one ever paid any attention,

I would have just faded out into

the abyss.

Thank you each and all of you

for ever bothering to peek

into my bathroom stall

and read my graffiti-

loosely scribbled poetry

my words

on this

wall.

Red Blood Moon

Red Blood Moon

full until

it becomes

eclipsed into the

Dawn’s morning light.

the light eats away

the darkness of the night.

It ushers in the morning with

secrets beyond our sight.

As the blood red moon

controls the oceans tides

and deep inside our own

liquified minds.

The tug and the pull

until after when

the moon sheds its thick

skin and sneaks

quietly away

vanishes without a whisper

without a word

this theif of our night

is never heard.

Felt yes, but heard never.

She creeps silently away

as her cloak turns the pages

of a beautiful new day.

Autumn slides in

As Summer slips away

from frayed sunburned fingers

and children at play-

the weather starts to crumble

and Autumn slides in.

 

As Summer slips away,

the nights get colder

the wind gets bolder

the light begins to dim at dusk

when suddenly,

Autumn slides in.

 

As Summer slips away,

swimsuits get traded for sweaters

green leaves begin to spin

into gold, bronze, and red

as Autumn slides in.

 

As Summer slips away,

the thermostat gets switched from off

to on, blankets cover the bedsheets

and feeling a chill

we watch the sky just as

Autumn slides in.

 

Autumn slides in

to home plate as spectators all

begin the yearly cheer

Autumn slides in,

bringing us home again.

The Firecracker

The Firecracker-10/02/14

Thursday 1:51pm EST

The clock stands still

at 2 O’Clock.

I feel the crispness of the Fan.

As I silently wait for her.

The one who buys groceries,

in her sixty-ish skin,

fraile yet forever,

frisky.

 

She’ll carry all of them,

in by herself-

if I don’t wait to greet her.

 

Her-She-She is,

the One

with Ab-fib,

history of heart attacks, high blood pressure,

diabetes type 2 and even more…

 

But despite all of that,

She’s a Spitfire.

Do not Ever,

underestimate her.

 

She’s stubborn,

like a shotgun.

She is solid like granite,

although she bears a few

cracks.

 

The clock stands still

at 2 O’Clock.

I feel the cool crispness

of the Fan.

 

And I plan

to remain here,

sitting silently

waiting,

 

for my husband’s Mother,

to come bursting through

the front door

like a firecracker.

 

(sidenote: just 2 hrs after I wrote this poem, I caught her outside attempting to mow our lawn. I yelled to her She shouldn’t do that that She knows she is not supposed too. Ignoring me, She did the 1/3 of the backyard she could manage and came inside for a nap. When I complained to my husband he just laughed at me….)