"Reflections" and super man band aids

I never really shared my goal to post once a week although this was initially my aim. I haven't met it consistently yet, because I prefer to post things I have written recently or older works that I once again feel are important to my life and current clarity. The role poetry plays in my life cycles and I didn't write any poetry this week, so I was sifting through old poetry files and came a cross this from a couple years ago.

I find it just as true now that I recognize myself more in the eyes of strangers when sharing a genuine smile than I do at any other time. It is kind of puzzling to realize that amidst all the search for self that goes on in the world, forgetting that search by tripping on a crack in someone else's heart ultimately heals your own. May we all trip more often and carry super man band aids.

"Reflections"

Who am I?
Do I recognize myself?
Is my image in the mirror really me?
I feel more like myself smiling into the eyes of strangers
than I do by looking in a mirror or with inflection.
Is that the right word?
It's not reflection but action.
“Smiling from the inside out.”
Forgetting to wonder about identity
by getting lost in work and service,
and in the process being your true self
or a better self.

Inflection - Introspection... same diff. Not really, but sometimes it seems wrong to change a poem two years later, because it changes the essence of the moment it captures, when the right words don't always come when called.

hatching heart

I am waiting for my heart to hatch
out of it's crisp shell,
so it can grow and cheep and learn to fly,
leave its nest and seek a home outside my chest.

currency

Time was currency to my head,
but I neglected to pay my heart.
I left it starving, bleeding, believing-
until it could no more.
Hope had fallen and
my heart took its last breath.
My brain was rich with time,
but empty of all air and care.
My soul could not survive fragmented in two.
Oh they fight and tug for every drop and dime.
But until they can agree,
I wait for harmony
so that in peace I can exist.
No- thrive!

perched on a power line

you can't stay high in the sky every day.
sometimes the storm comes in before you make it safely home
and you perch on a power line
watching the energy of all the people going by
unable to tap into the power of flight
as they go on slowed by gravity,
but not hindered by the pressure of the air you both breathe,
but which you need to lift you up.
or you can land on a telephone wire
and make the most important call you can.

greenhouse

I would rather be a green house than a castle's fortress walls.
Transparent to the world most times,
showing the life within and all the time
warmer than any outside face tipped towards the sun.
This would be a better way to live a life than hidden within stone,
for treasures of real value: growth!
are there for all to see.
Instead of a heart set on physical things,
a life driven by becoming something.

love of life and laughter

I wrote this sitting in the fishbowl last January and dedicated it to some of my dearest friends... you know who you are :) I have the past couple weeks felt these feelings renewed.

I want more than my eyes to convey my laughter
and my smile- the joy within.
I want my love of life to leak out my soul
through my fingertips and toes.
I want the air to sense and send it out
upon each breeze and drifting sunbeam.
I want the love to spread
make you catch your breath and sigh
make green things grow beneath your feet
and help you know that I feel God's love and light
and I can't contain it when you are by my side.

Tribute to the girls of apartment 14

They live life like I want to:
too busy living and looking to take a photograph
or busy finding pictures and opportunities to catch them.
putting seriousness on hold and making it listen to classical music before putting it through to their soul, because their soul has plenty of other ad-jective, emotional callers.
breathing in and sleeping in
guilt free.
no sighing.
giggles and gut instincts.
open doors and cards on the floor.
all love.
I walk in, plop on the couch and I'm home.

Tumble

I don't want to stand under someone's wing or be overshadowed.
I want my quiet strength to speak louder than any audible voice.
I want to stand on something solid
be that ice, or cloud or ocean.
I don't want sugar-coated senseless words to slip off my tongue ever,
But in always watching, asking, offering an ear
All the laundry drying in my head
Tumbles.
It seems you have to be a magician
to pull the lost change out.

Out my mouth
my words, my thoughts, my heart
Tumbles.
But I am still lost.
I've changed, am changing,
stretching wings and shuffling feet
checking in the mirror a little too often to see what others see
in my eyes and soul
when even I don't know but fragments
clips of dreams and hopes and doubts and filtered sunlight
I need to trade scissors for glue and recreate
This collage that is me.

Learning from the Past

I write quite a bit and it is always interesting to go back and read things I have written in the past. Sometimes as life comes at me quotes from my own poems come to mind and I find strength in them. That wasn't the case tonight, because the strength I found didn't come from anything popping into my head, but instead came as I was just sifting through old computer files and found these two pieces. The first is from last May (2009 that is) and the second is from June of the same year. I kind of laugh realizing how true it is that I have a "chronic" condition, because similar thoughts have been floating through my head recently, but without the same positive and enlightened spin I put on them a year ago. And my stubborn escapist attitude of summer, where I literally and figuratively bury myself in books and movies, isn't the best strategy to finding what I found in silence before either.

I encourage you to write about anything and everything, happy and sad and confused, so that you can look back to see how far you've come, where you are going, and remind yourself of all the beautiful things you are.

"Blurb on Time"

Despite my chronic impatience and confusion in relation to the future, I think it is beautiful that each moment holds something we couldn't predict. Life is great, because we have the power to not only attempt to change a set destiny, but to really create one for ourselves. Every single life and every natural occurrence out of our hands interplay, creating a here and now that transitions smoothly from an ever distant future to the yesterdays we reminisce. Life would cease to be interesting and optimistic if things were otherwise, because knowledge would push faith and hope aside. If we were to defy that knowledge of how every second played out, and still hope, it would be just like our human natures to be stubborn to think things could be otherwise. Therefore the fact that we don't know our futures provides us with the blessings of hope and humility, agency provides a way for us to put our hope to work, and that God's hands reach down and orchestrate life provides us with help if we accept it. We are not left in a battle between our own strength and a fear of time, but with a hand to hold can be happy with the unknown eternities.

"Silent Reminder"

Right now
music makes me melancholy,
but silence helps me see
and hear the peace around.
Helps me feel the light within my life,
remember who I am
and what I want to be.
Reminds me that the love God has
is like the air we breathe,
something we don't always take notice of,
but still a necessity.
The arms He holds out for us
are always open, always waiting.
Like a stubborn child
we have to surrender our pride -
give in, ask for a hug and help.
Listen.

Sin

As a person I've drawn a line
there's this black and white figure I've tried to define
I placed a circle around about me
that I thought I would not and could not ever want to escape
but I've crossed it
time after time
and this heart that I thought was red and alive and mine
is actually journeying through a world of gray
where I've lost the desire to stay within the bounds I've set
the shadows bring dimension
and yet
what I thought were universal rights and wrongs
fell prey to those long shadows
I cannot judge others by my lines and shapes and colors,
but it's hard to ignore
that the self-enclosing circle is now an undirected squiggle
and I think my heart is hidden in the stringy squiggly mess
what I thought might be a little humanity and freedom
ended up becoming a test I've yet to pass
do I fill in random bubbles
or do I do all I can
to lift my face
feel the sun
fight hard the battle waging within-
this battle of defining lines and sin.

Contentment... and Patience

Lately I have been feeling the need to develop patience and faith and hope in the future and all it holds. While discussing with a dear friend why we make crazy random plans for when we will be old ladies I was reminded of this poem I wrote a couple years ago (At the time I was referring to lovely plans the same girl and I were making then). We feel those plans don't detract from the now, but make us excited for the future. Even though I don't know what will happen, I am gradually remembering and being reminded that finding joy in the now and making plans for an unknown future is the way to have patience and actively wait. Hold on to all the good and truth and love you can find moment by moment and trust in it! Let yourself find contentment.

contentment
even though your hands are cold
and you shake a little
the warmth inside is enough
your mind just can't understand
your heart
but that's alright
you have to accept things as they are
see the good through all the bad
enjoy the sunshine
even though rain is your favorite
make random plans
that might never be done
but make them anyways
waste a little time
to figure out your thoughts
or think about thinking
wink just because your curious
admit to being angry
shed a tear or two
don't be afraid to smile
radiate yourself through your eyes
sing a little song
listen to your heartbeat
and wonder at the little marvels of life
stare out the window
not longing
but content.

Mom always said, "we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

and I have always been pro at trying to cross it before I get there.

An imaginary lady bug
crawls up my arm
and the grass tickles my ankles
as i listen to music
lone- ily
thinking of you
and avoiding the mind's eye view i have
of bridges i may not cross

London bridge is falling down
and i use tooth picks
to hold it up from far out at sea.
I squint to get the perspective just right,
but what is wrong with my perspective is me.

*second poem... inspired by the numerous break up songs played at Acoustic Explosion.

Don't let every moment hold another break up
between you and life.
hold onto your love of life
and let others love you.
Asymmetry
A-synchronicity
and Imperfection
may be a little off balance,
but with a tip of your hat
and a tilt of the head
you can see their beauty.
see Your beauty.

Storm

5/22/10
written in the car back from Clear Creek, Utah... inspired by Scotland-esque mists and rain.

there's a storm in your eyes
it's asking questions of your soul,
but you forget the answers that you know
they are sitting in your heart

somnabulatory
you turn to ask the world
and bury trust and love for yourself in your work
oh, but all that unconscious effort will be in vain.

that storm will wash the topsoil away
and then that raging storm will calm
mist and mud will give way
and all that searching will yield peace and sun

when you blink away the sleep to brightness and your eyes adjust
there will be so much more to view
a stronger faith and trust

Nature's Sympathy

My soul was black,
but it wasn't stained.
The gray clouds blocked out the sun,
but they didn't stay.
Before they left-
first they rained.

They cleansed my heart
and soaked my pride.
They washed away my bitter side.
Made me a cup of tea
and provided nature's sympathy.

The earth cycles through tears and tears*
of which we rush past unaware.

But when we open up our eyes
it's always there to soothe our souls
and hold us up.

Even when we feel the world is falling down
and the sky is following after
and we are caught in this sandwich of improbability.

Even when emotional tides grow high and wide
and thoughts become a tsunami suicide.


*sounds the same as "tares"
~poem written Thursday, May 6th, 2010 while staring out the library window

Hazy Hypotheticals

don't live out hazy hypotheticals
don't let your thoughts fall to fearful dreams
when you think in the negative
your feelings over rule reality
and things are never as they seem
take a breath
wake up
and let things be