A parting of the ways & minds…

An apology poem-

dedicated to an old friend…10690209_10202380310584146_6677950030328337425_n

There are some people

who quite long ago

and quite honestly

stole a chunk, a piece, an inch

of my beating red heart

than slowly they backed up

backed away

and chose to depart

from all of my insanity

from a life filled

to the brim

of constant chaos-

especially when-

I often only contacted them

when my world was falling to pieces

the times when i grabbed Hope’s

neck and choked her to the floor.

The times when i was frantic.

The times when i was less than

one hot mess-when I was literary manic,

less than

my very best.

I’m stronger now.

I am able to balance my moods out.

I am able to be more than

a one sided friend

whose hardships never seem to end.

I am able to be, more like myself,

more in control

and all of my desperate despair

I have shed its skin

done to the bone

and I’ve embraced the snake

I’ve let the light back in

I’ve become less infatuated with Drama.

I feel finally able to become,

a much better friend.

But only if your willing

to forgive me?

And allow me back into your life

as a friend and stop ignoring

all of my better qualities

to insist I am

like the Oceans waves

with tides that ebb and flow

yet never change nor stop

that I am perhaps a seed

that knows not

how to flower

how to grow

you only saw the turmoil.

but that was my own fault.

I never showed you the rest.

That even despite the Oceans

turbulent troubled waves

the Moon still gazes

quietly and tenderly on.

The world is not composed

entirely of Drama.

And not not even me.

I am not constantly in a state

of inner turmoil.

But that is what you saw,

because that was the only time

I reach out for you-

to catch me/

stop me

/as i fall.

if i could only talk with you

then you’d realize, despite it all

after everything is said and done

I could find it deep inside

to try to accept and forgive you too.

That is what friendship is all about

the push the pull not the scream nor shout

the give and the take

that is what is merry make.

sometimes i feel as though i’ve lost you

4ever that our friendship was simply

way too fragile

at the seams it tore

it breaks

apart

like pieces of a twisted broken

heart, its hard to say goodbye

knowing you never

really tried..

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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.

Bad Poetry

Sometimes, some days, I fall victim

to writing Bad poetry. I know when’s

it bad when it’s ugly and sad.

When the over-ripe melon

is rotten to its core.

It’s really annoying, frustrating, and unforgiving

to be writing real bad craft

poems made of sorrow, breaking like glass.

poems that fall like drool from

my chapped, sun sore lips

words that escape

like a plague of misfits.

It’s quite clear, I am sitting down

deep again in my own private pity

party, the drama clutches me

I fear it will never end

as I catch myself writing

way too much, so very much, really

just too too much,

Bad Poetry again…

play on words

it’s a play on words,

you’ve heard the expression,

i’ll bet-ever wonder what it meant?

Me too. Is a play on words,

a satire? Or an allegory? A metaphor?

A Simile?

Some sarcastic S.O.B-lost in the sea-of his own,

word-fish? an invention of putting nonsense words together.

Strung along in a row, like the finest beads…

wearing a necklace as you go,”Hello.” and “thank-you, please.’

 

It’s a play on words-sorta-day.

silly nap-cat

sleeping in my lap,

as she-

stretches paw-wards, and towards,

my computer-lap-top-keys.

 

Its a play on words,

kinda day…

just got word that,

one of my many “in-laws”,

is worried over my well-being,

again.

 

Oh, Joy, its just a nice way,

of saying, we thinking you’ve

gone crazy again, oh crap!

Some manic-expression,

no not I.

Not now, not this time…

but thanks again for asking….

Truth be told,

I’m just mostly stoned,

taking prescription pain meds-

for my Endometriosis again…it makes

me a bit high, but not like mania.

 

Mania is a big, huge, high-one which I

cannot control nor hide nor lie.

this is more like static interference,

on the tv screen of my brain.

 

no, don’t worry,

I have not gone back,

to that land called crazy.

 

for now at least,

i am fine.

i understand your worries, concerns and fears.

but right now they are un-founded.

 

When its the real deal-

you really do not even have to ask-

its quite obvious.

 

Screaming like the tight RED RED RED, dress

on my back with the over the top make-up,

and the nonstop clatter of chatter,

from these lips.

 

While, it hurts me that your asking,

it does make me feel better,

that at least,

you do really care.

(even if you are wrong this time)

 

Feelin’ a hot mess

Feelin’ like a hot mess,

these words cannot express

the way I feel deep down inside

the ache is my spine,

the pain right below, my navel,

these emotions that go

up and down like a carnival lackey’s hammer.

Feelin’ a hot mess

that’s me…and I am not so

sure how I will keep

it altogether,

like a unraveled sweater,

i fall apart at my seams.

I try to reach out-

to the ones one mean-well once meant-

the most-yet they have abandoned me.

Completely and utterly.

And the ones I do have left?

I just do not want to call… with more bad news.

It will drive them away too.

And right now I just

do not know,

what to do or who to trust?

Feelin’ a hot mess…

trying to hold it together,

but i feel like i’m coming

unhinged, unglued, apart

at the seams.

Rituals

Rituals to settle me.
Rituals to calm me, when i find distress.
I’m obsessively listen to the same M.Ward CD
all afternoon and all night long.

I know the true reason.
I’m just feeling stress.
But listening to the same CD
over and over on repeat-

it’s like a treat.
I barely notice the music, or lyrics
anymore, i use some crazy-ass form
of hypnosis on myself.

If i play the music that makes
me feel happy-over and over again-
like a wish will the happy come true?

will the sounds soothe my frazzled
burned out shell
of a mind?
does it help that it rhymes?

I think so.
i just wanna make the bad mood-
go-dissipate-disappear-evaporate?
my nerves are fried.
almost as bad as my brain.

So i listen and listen again.
All songs are on repeat,
as i try to clear my
cluttered mind

of all the endless useless
thought grime.

Sing a song,
dance to music,
be happy…
now if only?

If only i could block it all out?
Just want to start today over again,
longing to undue, the bad mood
I’ve been in, feeling blue.

blankets

blankets and blankets 

of warm fuzzy

music, lyrics, and melodies…

caressing my sore body,

my achy blue mood.

 

Blankets and blankets of

warm fuzzy

music, melodies, lyrics

and honesty-song right from the

lips of a singer-songwriters

kiss

falling

notes

straight downwards into

the beat

of my heart,

and my

ear-drums.

lovely music

good enough to swallow

whole, digest and eat.

music delivers me,  to far off places,

and far-off oasis. it takes me to the ends,

of an ocean,

filled with mood-

from deep dark blue

like the sea,

to the happy;

to the 

in-between.

Mood swings

Some days,

and my mood can

switch on a nickel.

everything can be groovy great,

then its like my mind is on fire.

all the emotions build up,

and i am crying on the inside out again.

I have never done well

with anger, expressions of negative

emotions the burned out

pent up rage of hell.

it smolders,it burns, and ravages me-

quickly like brush-fire.

and only those, who take the time,

to know me very well,

can see that i’m on fire,

that something or somebody’s

made me madder than hell.

And in that instant, i have a choice,

to say something or not…

to just release it out,

in a single breath,

instead of a rampage of

swearing or curse words or even worse.

Because there’s one thing i know,

and it’s the power of words,

they jab, they cut, they stab

so eaisily

often they leave bruises, but not

on skin,

on a person’s soul instead.

but most days,

i know enough the taste of regret,

the remorse on my coarse lips,

that i say nothing,

and only stare

off into space

with a secret anger

i cannot misplace.