Motoring through duality,
straining, in the middle –
socialized, yet reticent –
My heart is overflowing,
like an unwatched sink
falling apart, too much
Driving, the past’s rain
blurring any joy; feel
dirty, taut, losing control
Harm vanishes, comes
back around; hosting
good intentions, rank;
Progression entirely
defined by vulnerability
smothering celebration
Towed along by sweetness
of children, dining on their
innocence banishes despair.
 Proficient at goodbyes; specialize in endings;
excel at vacation relationships;
protest conformity –
can never see the value in how another does things –
pain in the neck; prefer to drive (although currently unable);
can cooperate, facilitate, bend my perspective
to fit in – graduate of the school of con –
am unfaithful to those ties that could propel me
forward; escape at every opportunity;
see predators in possible allies, view deficits
as insurmountable, take risks as long as
they don’t involve real change;
would remain underground,
if not so compelled to ignore limits;
the wear and tear on my body just blips
now navigating emotional waters,
looking to land.
(Image: soulhiker.com)
Taking ownership of this mess
I call life, creates a priority of
care – a surrogate for the inner
sapling, not too motherly, just
accepting; to lead her past the
overpopulated vines of despair,
root out evil, restore the good –
a kindred spirit to ease her little
soul – no officious, insecure, put-
me-down parent, but dedicated,
motivational re-schooling, able
to fulfill needs, entertain, assist
in uncovering substance, insure
she has meaning to latch onto.
To help you find direction, Child,
I will tend to your needs, honour
the artistry of your growing mind –
a brilliance to nurture – encourage
flights of fancy: never fear pushing
boundaries of conventional thought  –
offer you strength of connection,
value your courage, prod hard work,
allow for wildness, questioning;
teach you not to quit before miracle
happens, demonstrate that life is
opportunity, Â that character will be
tested, and that  comfort can be
found in the spiritual – deliverance
is possible – above all to know that
you are loved, nurtured, valued and
together, through it all, we will prevail.
(Image from private collection)
Weighted down – I eat rocks
to anchor this restlessness –
unable to exit through any door,
trying to relocate self-assessment
to a sunnier place, contemplating
where I’d like to be; have checked
in, but no room is ready – shove it
all back underground – darkness
defining my horizons, my sister and I
meet here at the edge of denial, both
seeking calmer waters – she swims,
I crave a shower – we are haunted
in our sleep – shadows clouding our
dreams – projections of mermaid
possibilities, and electric blue skies;
I am gaining some ground, sifting
through basements, tossing old
ideals, cynically reminiscing, she
strokes through the debris of family
storms, ignores the rubbish polluting
her pool, maintains motion, while I
remain submerged, try to work out
a relationship with our father, long
since deceased, still present, find
solid ground – have opened the contents
of our stored horror, no choice but to carry
on, have been an actor in our staged
drama, no fame though to add acclaim,
only misguided endings, fragile audiences
and a sister who follows a different light.
(Image: Â wallpapersblogspot.com)
Spontaneity craves opportunity,
ignores setback – will not wait,
prepare – is ready, it sweetness
a charm, luring and strangling.
Just rumours, this rage-tired hurt
calculating appearances, facade
ambition-not-happening deters all
hope of aid; organization could be
an opening – regulate responses,
indicate good things happening
in the wings, projecting warmth –
the fear is discovery, stepping out
from comfort – creativity is willing,
intelligence on board – vulnerability
pervades, adds to the conversation,
lacks wind – manipulation, criticism
all plot to dissuade – what peace is
there in exposing identity? Â Persona
needs overhaul, sorry energy resists
change, only hope the assurance of
quick-witted bravado – preference is
to let someone else reign, continue
absence – force is needed to propel
this anxiety-heavy body, exuberance
would breathe life, crush self-serving
put downs, fear of disappointment,
and telltale self-image; ignore the
riotous ‘no’ and oust the narcissist.
(Image:Â mamiverse.com)
Sticks and stones may be inert
at causing pain, but names catch,
travel, complicate the defenceless,
incubate, invite curiosity, remain.
So much dirt involved in building
dreams, to stretch imaginations,
span across crevices of despair,
progress threatened by storms,
emotional waters turning hope
to mud, supports lost at crucial
intervals, silenced by the depth
of loss, crashing in the slime.
What was precious, now lost,
enveloped in layers of excess
compulsion to claw apart vile
skin, tear away the grossness.
Yet, all is not lost, a garden
grows best when planted
in soil, watered, as long as
the sun is allowed to shine.
The emerald waters of
my crystalline personality
are only a reflection
of an external light.
Lurking below the surface
the murky tears
of self-deprecation
create further illusion.
Dive deeper,
beyond the cold chill
of darkening thoughts
and threatening despair
Weed through the silt
of bottomed out desires
and find an opening –
black and foreboding.
Enter with an open heart
and find the treasure within
rusted from neglect,
unguarded, with open latch.
Brush away the cobwebs
and with respectful caution
lift the dusty lid
and behold the divine spark
My true essence,
Tucked there in the darkness
an eternal flame
vibrant and vital.
Release it for me,
be so kind,
to light this dismal patch
and set my waters aglow again.
So that the emerald waters
of my crystalline personality
will reflect an internal
divine light.
(Reposted from September 2014)
I cannot bear the responsibility
for my brother’s pain, separated
as he was from my mother, raised
in his own kind of hell, estranged;
could not save him from himself
even if I tied him to me, carried
him by my side, bore his shame,
supported him by finding work.
I would just be trying to resurrect
old dreams, choosing to follow
already trodden paths, repeating
patterns of partnering with failure;
stir up memories of abuse, relive
the discomfort, castigate myself
anew for not asserting propriety,
contemplate revisiting the old.
No, I am not my brother’s keeper;
cannot right what has been lost;
only in looking forward can we
hope to bridge our familial ties.
(Image: Â quotesgram.com)
Sudden clarity rocks
my inner landscape;
breakthrough under –
standing that what has
formed my foundation,
as woman, as human,
has been marred by
mixed messages, lack
of healthy boundaries;
sheer absence of self-
preserving beliefs has
contributed to a legacy
of abuse and translated
into guilt, shame and
intolerable self-loathing.
(Image from paddle8.com)
Pardon the mess, but currently
renovating the psyche, moving
rape to a separate apartment,
trying to make room for God.
Heart is the crux of my home,
space for recreation essential,
my family is growing, roots
spreading outwards, Muslims
now amongst our beloveds.
I need to be present – useful
to communicate without
appearing challenged – hope
the elephant in the room
does not describe me, signs
of burning startling – smoking
is not permitted here – breath
is a requirement; I live here!
Dare I reveal, make a scene?
I’ve made my bed, better to
stay conservative, constrict
airways; don’t need much to
get by: a modest income,
marriage insurance, quiet
appliances, easy navigation.
Post overhaul, I’m hoping for
less complications, more flow,
compartmentalized sanity so
that God will stop questioning.
(Image:Â http://watersofnoah.blogspot.ca/2012/03/big-rock.html)
One Woman's Quest 