Reach for her
across the abyss
of indifference –
would hold her dear
comfort her sorrows –
empty promises,
I now understand
have abandoned her
countless times
in the name of obligation,
this child that is me.
Tag: inner child
Grownup?
Armed with plans
and guidelines, we
ready for life’s climb,
unaware that childhood,
untamed and intact,
takes the lead.
Ronovan’s Haiku Challenge: Child, Safe
Hush Child; you are safe –
torment ended, threat dispersed –
we have survived, whole.
(Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt is child & safe.)
A Toddler’s Tears
When it comes to caring,
I’m a pro – engaged,
wholehearted, well…
except that my toddler
self joins in, and no matter
how proper I try to act –
she is such a fetching child,
bright, inquisitive – she
distracts me from purpose,
gets me off-track, and I hate
being behind, and anxiety
acts up, and the subject of my
focus departs, leaves me solo,
abandoned like the baby,
memories of saturated diapers
unattended to, and the raw
scratch of tears unanswered,
and I’m not trained to care for
inner children, essentially
overlooked, innocence tainted.
Teach Her Well
(Poem inspired by previous post: Choosing Self Love )
A locked door
a screaming sister
a mother in despair
a child rejected,
scorned, neglected
blames herself
carries the cross
of her mother’s burden
through passing years
bears responsiblity
for a husband’ poor
choices; bleeds guilt
is still the child,
wounded, insecure,
her needs abandoned
desperation motivates
her thrust for control,
to orchestrate harmony
cannot see the fallacy
disappointments repeating
loathes perceived inadequacy
needs someone to unlock
the door, quiet the yelling,
hold her through her fears
teach her that in compassion
is detachment, that she is
worthwhile, and deserving
begin a legacy of self-love,
initiate a path to healing,
release these lifelong tethers.
Alcohol’s Child
Funny, this present impulsivity –
am alone, overweight, a dreamer
self-propelled, looking for a friend
who doesn’t see me as last resort
not exactly beside myself with offers –
coasting asexuality (inside fickle)
will extend libations, marriage,
possessions – am willing to sell all
like an automaton, will deliver
drinks, manufacture abundance
Child of alcoholics in attendance –
a comic, in charge and hesitant
at ease, I am hopeful, the original
leisure queen – avoid rows at all cost
live for the moment, dream of beaches,
never married, non-conforming, team
quencher – will promote any dreams
(but my own) – like a mechanical bull
dizzy, in need of social management
or at least, a friend who finds me worthy
all needs met here – delegate away –
I am soda pop refreshment, slightly
oddball, restless, and okay, a little
needy – just not able to befriend myself.
Keep Distance!
Keep distance!
Inner child
intimate with abuse;
a sad comedian
spontaneity ploy
masking deadness –
major screwup –
God’s grace
unscathed
minus mishaps
hip movement
frozen scream
roads collide
life on periphery
repercussions
cognitive gears
breaking ice
encountering foes
reflexes delayed
safety intangible
borrowing time
health a trial
defeat conceded
relinquished control
Keep distance!
Inner child
driving the show.
Time to Re-Parent
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, 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)
Regression
Fear drives me backwards, spinning
childhood tales, plunging into frigid
waters of isolation, desolation; falling
into the unknown; a mission to heal
the ruptures, out of season, past and
present colliding, frozen in time –
I am in need of extraction, need to
believe in flight of eagles – innocence’s
idol – need to initiate possibility; find
a match to melt icy deception – so
much betrayal – my sun is going down;
I stand at the water’s edge, ready to
launch; innocence and ignorance
co-conspirators of my youth; am
fighting an immature battle, out of
sync, hesitant, prefer avoidance to
combativeness, played one too many
addict’s game, felt the brunt of relapse
am powerless, emotionally responsible,
bear the burden of care, unable to release
control, swallowed by childhood’s chasm.
(Image from: www.egilpaulsen.com)
Dear Child
I know a little girl,
whose hair in ringlets
falls, unkempt from lack
of brushing; who stands
when she should be sitting;
who laughs with defiance when
challenged, her dark eyes gleaming
with mischief; who holds her chin up
high and stamps her feet, arms folded
in protest when she does not get her way.
I see that little girl,
have watched her play,
with a wild imagination,
and a fearless temperament;
have watched her climb a tree,
scrap with any bully, and dare to
venture on her own; have witnessed
her alone times, hidden and obscured,
watched as she cried unheeded, buried
herself in books, drawing, and future dreams.
I feel that little girl,
who wears such a brave
exterior to mask her inner
fears; who bears a burden of
responsibility to carry the weight
of those around her; who believes
she has the power to make her mother
cry, to cause her father’s violence, to save
her sisters from pain; who feels the punishment
of her situation and ascribes it to unworthiness.
I love that little girl,
whose mind is always
churning, who prays to a
god she’s never seen, and
makes wishes on rainbows;
who longs to make a difference,
and refuses to believe that suffering
is all there is; who devotes herself to
being a better person, and hopes one day
that she’ll finally feel at peace in the world.
I hold that little girl,
warm within my heart,
listen to her fears, hear
her heart’s longing; praise
her courageous efforts, appease
her doubts, offer condolences for
losses, encouragement for change,
forgive her of her burdens; allay her
misperceptions, reassure her worth,
promise to never let her go: she is me.
