How do we recognize truth
in what is reflected back to us
especially when intrinsic knowing
has been domesticated out of us –
servility replacing preservation?
We are drawn by an insatiable
thirst to drink from the well
of human connections, require
acknowledgment, appreciation,
cannot bear to conceive of a life
of loneliness – we are social,
travel in packs, affectionate
souls conditioned to co-habitate,
habits instructing outcomes –
would be lost without mirrors.
I am losing ground,
disinterest piling up,
suffocating – I moan
childish communication
enraged, and humiliated,
hurt; my opinion more
impulse than acceptable
relatives bitch, correct,
dethrone me – an outsider
sidling in, like a politician
mingling, lingering, attacked
why am I so dependent
on this oddball interaction?
celebration is just a formality
and my enthusiasm misplaced
but at least, I am present.
I loved him with the passion
of a child – he was the sun
and I the golden calf – a mutual
worship, trust and respect.
His words were my sustenance,
mother’s lap busy with a baby,
older sisters reluctant to embrace
a half-sister and unasked for dad.
Reassured by his promises,
bolstered by his protectiveness
I felt his loyalty, committed to
reciprocating, so when he turned
on mother – his tongue a cruel
master – I faulted her too,
guessed she must be lower
than the exalted – he and I –
but as the tirades escalated
and the promises fell empty,
the tarnish began to show,
and I shifted allegiance –
intervened against maniacal
outbursts, tried to interject
sensibility, dissuade drunken
frays, the ferocity of his heat
no long warming, crushed
our family’s equilibrium –
he disappeared to soon
into the safety of death
left me reeling in the dark,
trying to decipher the codes
of his torment, the betrayal of
a father who was once my sun.
She sprinkles her commentary
with spikes of criticism
like a bee intent on finding honey
but stinging instead
strikes hard at the heart of the matter
manages to counter my aspirations
all attempts to swat away her words
are weak – she is my mother
and my sentiments are clouded
her jabs bite, inflame
and despite my apparent maturity
reduce me to childish panic.
I am exuberance –
frenetic and nippy
I am cuddly, curled
up in warm laps
out of control energy
bundled into a four-foot
floppy-eared mutt,
demanding attention
leave me out and
ask for trouble
accidents do happen –
thankfully, I’m cute.
Child of mine,
what rage is this
that sets you against
a younger brother?
What discontent stirs
so deeply within that
you would lash out
at me, your mother?
Let us sit a moment,
and let me, with tenderness
listen, for your anger masks
pain, and I am not so far
removed from childhood
to recognize that tone.
If I have wronged you,
speak, I need to hear it;
if peers are pressuring,
or bullying, or you feel
betrayed, lay it here
in my hands, and I will
comfort you, and offer
what wisdom I have.
Your well-being is sacred
to me; let me hold you –
you’re not too old;Â linger
here in my embrace until
the tears come, and the storm
passes; I will hear your fears,
frustrations, and disappointments,
and together we will figure it out.
Child of mine,
I am here for you,
no matter the reason,
your pain is my pain,
talk to me; I am listening.
(Image: confessionsofanadoptiveparent.com)
The wind blows,
a steady beat,
disperses Texas heat
palms succumb
to the rhythm
seduce the cerulean sky,
my heart a bird in flight
Back home winds cut
squalls threaten, snow
swirls nipping children’s
cheeks, while inside
hearths glow, eyes sparkle,
an anticipation my heart
aches to behold
This year, we’ve balked
tradition, chosen sunnier
vistas, the selfishness of two
will limit our Christmas
to FaceTime chats, snapshots
of excitement; my heart torn
between bliss and guilt.
(The Daily Post prompt: torn. Image and baking by my daughter. Missing limb courtesy of a granddaughter.)
Pride hounds
sneaky, invasive
ugly determination
guards a conception
family, grandchildren,
a portrait of comfort
disregards treacherous
likeness to poisonous
histories, past loathing
offender venomous
untrustworthy, slithers
hunts, eludes detection
fleeing only abandons
face culprit, wrestle
pummel, decapitate
denial, disembowel
falsehoods, render
the serpent impotent
peace endures when
life examined marries
humility and gratitude
(Image: Pinterest)
early morning mist lingers
draws a blanket around us
outside the birds chatter
make plans for the day
children’s soft snores
a moment of stolen bliss
I sip my tea and ponder
the sanctity of silence
(The Daily Post prompt: bliss.)
Be done short patience,
chores! I need libation
(preferably organic) –
not that I’m dependent
I’m just a bit anxious,
could use a boost of fun,
imbibing makes me less
mechanical, loosens edges
none of that hard stuff,
a little nip will do, keep
the dream alive – feeling
a little lame here, seems
my supply, having waned,
needs replenishing, and since
I’m semi-aware with spirit,
and my driver has left me
I’m making social calls –
won’t be repeating any
dangerous family patterns –
this outage’s unscheduled
seems no one is home –
surely, I am capable, I mean
this need is understandable,
allowances can be made, right?
Maybe if I just go quietly,
without causing a scene –
I really need a shot of patience
just to get through this day.
(Image: www.boldrugs.com)
One Woman's Quest 