Tag: poetry

Accepting Self

Desiring reconnection with life,
a longing for purposeful normalcy,
I push forward, intentionally ignoring
advice to the contrary.

Original intention well-meaning
(but not thought through)
minimal exertion is what’s called for,
but I feel inspired to do more.

Former strength now lost,
new awareness on the periphery,
hindered only by this cloudy head-
executive functioning currently disabled.

Bottom line is I must come clean,
stop overstating my capacity,
accept the unpredictable,
and recognize my limitations.

Embrace the lesson of constraints
and stop sabotaging the journey.
I am what I am, not a former definition
based on a life now redundant.

Naked, I fear that someone will see me –
I fear that they will not see me –
desire for acknowledgment,
a very human condition.

I need to ignore the obstacles,
wholeheartedly, without compromise,
reveal myself – no longer hidden.
I am, after all, what I am.

Changing Direction

This path I walk is not my own;
it’s paved with genetic markers,
familial dysfunction, and ancestral angst.
Can you see them walking with me?
Those whose lives were cut too short –
the addicts, the tortured, the diseased-
none of us free- ensconced in blame.

If you walk with me,
I’ll help you carry your burden
and you can support me with mine.

I stand at the intersection
of broken dreams and hope for tomorrow
and in my altered state of awareness
see the commonality of our striving,
understand the patterns that divide,
and grasp the illusion of injustice
that denigrates our interconnectedness.

If you walk with me,
I’ll help you carry your burden
and you can support me with mine.

I stop and wait for an opening
to share this revelation
of underlying harmonious intent,
but the whir of societal traffic
complicates communication,
and I can find no voice to cut
through the din of the dead.

If you walk with me,
I’ll help you carry your burden
and you can support me with mine.

I turn the corner on my old life,
detach with loving sorrow
from a road that never served me,
a direction wrought only with pain.
Tiny arms await me on this open road,
eyes wide with wonder and possibility.
There is joy to be found along the way.

If you walk with me,
I’ll share this new adventure
and together, we’ll have much to gain.

Blessings

My mother’s feet scream with the agony
of her miserable condition,
underlying the disease that eats at her.
My feet, uncallused paddles,
slightly bent and fallen,
carry on with forgiving kindness.

My husband’s knees are red-hot pokers
shooting knife-sharp volts
with every rickety step he takes.
Mine like knots in the spindly
trunks that bear them
graciously allot me flexibility.

My father’s back grew weak with time
faltering in the end – unreliable –
as if he’d borne the weight of the world.
My back, not without its moaning,
carries me proudly, erect –
like the spring sapling, winter endured.

My uncle’s heart beats erratically,
ceasing despite its mechanical support;
his life a testimony to modern science.
My heart flutters with expectancy,
aches with disappointment,
and soars with each new birdsong.

My sister’s tension rises,
the stiffness in her neck suffocating,
headaches blinding her vision.
My neck, slung now like a rooster,
puffs around my face like an old friend,
allowing me the comfort of perspective.

My brother’s mind has seized,
lost somewhere between today
and yesteryear – never certain of either.
Mine, a constant churning cog,
gathers information, spews ideas
and bends in the face of creativity.

My eyes have seen the suffering of others;
my hands throbbed with a desire to help;
yet each bears their cross stoically,
and so I watch with compassion and gratitude
for a life I might have lived,
had my own vessel not been so blessed.

 

 

 

 

All The Little Pieces

You, old man –
silent onlooker,
career behind you,
motivation stymied
senility lurking –
You are a part of me.

You, grandmother –
chronic caregiver,
stiffly puttering,
good intentions,
punctuated by pain –
You are a part of me.

You, young woman –
heart full of passion,
longing to embrace life,
confined to a wheelchair
dependent independent –
You are a part of me.

You, little child –
running with emotion,
driven by discovery,
curiosity cancelling reason,
needing protection –
You are a part of me.

You, young man –
cold-hearted and reckless,
menacing and lawless
cruelly harrassing,
angrily destructive –
You are a part of me.

You, responsible one-
struggling to do it all,
holding it together,
rescuing the lot,
refusing to let go –
You are part of me.

You, my many pieces –
bound by disease,
beaten by hardship,
silenced by fear,
abandoned to rot –
You are a part of me.

I, shattered into pieces-
overwhelmed, and repulsed,
have not lost compassion,
will regain my fight,
hang on for salvation, because-
You are a part of me.

Presently Seeking Peace

Life is transition,
and when disability presented,
I brought along my social self –
optimistic, friendly, upbeat.

And I brought my spiritual self-
child, maiden, mother, crone.

The possibilities seemed endless,
and lined with “would”s-
reconstructions needed, projects abandoned,
work attached, room for the old.

Drama entered and theatrically
walked out, “I’ll have none of this!”
Apologetically, I asked for the parameters-
“All doable!” I thought.

Severe debilitation appeared,
sleek and menacing as a cat,
puncturing my self-confidence
raising my ire.

I did not choose this existence!
I can only decide how to proceed.

So I simplify,
cut back my expectations,
seek purity in deprivation.

I am almost there,
but there are so many loose ends –
work to complete, messes to clean up,
questions to answer, justifications to make.

I uncover the consequences
of well-intended, but not followed through
promises.  Garbage, garbage, everywhere,
and me, with no energy to dispose of it.

Charity nourishes me,
compassion fills the gap,
and though I want to reward it –
extend my gratitude –
disarray gets in the way.

And I cycle back

Life is transition,
and in the end,
death.

I can enter willingly,
with grace and peace,
resigned to my tribulations,
free from entanglement.

Or, I can rail against it,
mired in the smut of criticism,
pretending perfection,
oblivious to the blessings.

Life, my dear self, is transition,
and we are being moved along,
whatever our preconceived expectations.

Open yourself to the process
and be willing give up the delusions of the past.

There is peace to be had.

Gridlocked

Far from home,
tired and spent,
feeling abandoned,
disconnected –

I am cut off.

Lacking independence,
damaged by betrayal,
I try not to need
and get tangled up-

cut off again.

The past haunts me:
a legacy of dead-ends;
abuse, addictions,
and mental illness-

cut me off.

Seek a higher road!
Spirit calls to me.
No! Stubbornness responds
I can do this myself –

But, I can’t.

Confronting shadow,
the nightmare is revealed.
Following Spirit
is the way –

I re-engage.

Knightmare Shattered

I had a dream once, and along the way
my fairytale destination was thwarted,
upside-downed by malicious intentions,
external influences, and scheming manipulators.

Unconditional love beckoned with promises of protection,
A golden haloed knight, stirring my hopeful heart.

Revelation freed me, renewed potential
bolstered lost aspirations, and I coupled,
surrendering soul selflessly, sealing it
with heated arousal; passionate commitment.

Unconditional love beckoned with promises of protection,
A golden haloed knight, stirring my hopeful heart.

Perseverance brought union, and resigning myself
whole-heartedly participated in companionship,
receiving confessions, uncovering delusions,
sporting reminders of my naivete.

Unconditional love beckoned with promises of protection,
A golden haloed knight, stirring my hopeful heart.

Re-examination of personal duplicity,
reveals wounded obsessions and disguised strategizing.
Taking the initiative, I question at last,the authenticity of my life story.

Unconditional love beckons with false promises
No golden haired knight will fulfill my heart.

Pleas(e)

If you see me,
rapt up in battle,
wrestling a would-be assassin,
my life precariously hanging in limbo,
no professionals in sight,
please don’t walk away.

I am alone and tiring,
and my assailant is intense –
forcefully focused on bringing me down,
and I am fighting with a strength
I didn’t know I possessed,
and cannot depend on.

Am I shadow boxing?
Fighting a foe no other than myself?
Is this an act of futility
and I a fool for trying?
Should I lie down and play dead
and take my chances?

My spirit says “No!”
I’m not ready to die!
So I fight, and I fight
straining to restrain
my grip tightening
I dare not let go.

And I would not mind if you’d step in
and give me a hand
and take up the struggle with me
offering enough support
that I might call for help
now, when it’s really needed.

‘Cause, strong as I seem
my control is clumsy at best,
and it is only by some strange miracle
that I am winning at all.
So please, before I am lost,
If you see me, struggling with life,
don’t walk away.

Day 259 “Tao vs The World”

Everywhere I look: collisions.
Ambition struck down by mindless consumerism
defeating progress;
social networking defying purpose,
mutilating communication,
disrupting movement;
victims splayed, traumatized, numb,
flaying, bloody.
Consciousness obliterated
by blind compliance;
intrinsic motivation / instinct extinct.

Values – not possessions- endure;
understanding eliminates dominance;
integrity ensures power for all.
Mindfulness calms chaos
quenches grasping urgency
restores hope;
direction and purpose
harmonized with communal focus
realizes potential
creates greatness.