“Just like your father!”
Words that chill me
to my core, bile
and self-loathing
follow
I abhor ego –
its need
its pandering
its petulance
Would skin
and exile
the beast
but, alas
Self absent
interface
cannot deal with
what remains
So I wrestle
with the father bits
and bolster the tried –
ego negotiation
(Image my own)
I am gregarious
initiator
risk-taker
eagerly anticipating
the unknown
But the subconscious
alights on old stories
gathers sanctimonious
rumours of unworthiness
spits out shame
and rage
Reveals the truth –
I am vulnerable.
(Facing Truths first appeared here July ’19. This version is edited from original. Art my own.)
Even the river bleeds
fiery frigid essence
Earth’s watery voice.
**
It is the river
that calls, waters
flowing through my veins
and I, the banks
steadfast and holding
the razor sharp edges
like liquid steel
erode my earthen postures
challenging…
blessedly challenging…
the hardened places.
(Water: Haiku and Free Verse first appeared here in June of 2018. It is has been edited for this version. Image my own.)
Self-deprecation
that louse that foils
recognition
What if I sacrificed
this invasive habit –
allowed vulnerability
Entertained possibility
of self-acceptance,
treasured what is?
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
I am orange
in a monotone clime
radiant against
a melancholic backdrop
a poem within
a droning monologue.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Art my own.)
Disclosure:
While I strive
for wholeness
I am given
to negative
Thoughts –
while fractional
nonetheless
count individually –
Add it all up
and I am
at times
zero
An integer
swaying backwards
and forwards
begging patience.
(Image mine)
Paper me over
with carnal designs, I am
hourglass losing
myself in the shift – pencil
sketches facing erasure.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Art mine)
– Maya Angelo
I fear living.
No, that’s not it.
I love living…
…but I fear engagement…
…drowning in engagement
Except, I love engagement…
… but only when I dip my toe in the waters
and feel the thrill…
and can still maintain control.
I fear losing control. I fear no longer being able to call the shots, life demanding more of me than I’m willing (or able) to give.
I’m willing to give…
… to a certain point…
…can no longer afford to be sapped dry, wrung out
and discarded… so much hurt
so much betrayal…
such lack of appreciation
I have given.
I have loved and sacrificed and cherished and
given…
…up…
…self
It’s self I’m afraid of losing
and why not?
I am only just able to touch her
She and I, still hesitant
building a certainty
a mutual admiration
respect…
And should I be called upon
to give…too much…well…
I could lose her again.
This is what I fear.
(Two separate blog posts hit me this week. The first offering the Angelo quotation (sorry, I can’t remember the blog’s name) and the second from my friend Dr Andrea Dinardo, who offers the question: What’s Under the Fear? Dr D offers a five step process for self-discovery. This is my response. Image my own. The poem also fits with my weekly challenge theme: except)
I am shadow
darkness clouding light
sun’s alter ego –
I speak of hidden
truths, altered lies
guard broken places
Crack my surface
I am ice, will thaw
reveal patches
I am shadow
fear me not –
a path to wholeness.
(Tuesday, I borrow from my Twitter poems @Vjknutson. Image my own)
If they call you vermin
show them moxie
no explanation needed
Best path is paved
with honesty, avoid
potholes of popularity
Authentic self
travels further
without camouflage.
(Image from personal collection.)
One Woman's Quest 