402 Chartiers, Canonsburg, PA 15317 - Northwood Realty Services

402 Chartiers, Canonsburg, PA 15317 - Northwood Realty Services

813 Grand Avenue, Aliquippa, PA 15001 - Northwood Realty Services

813 Grand Avenue, Aliquippa, PA 15001 - Northwood Realty Services

Divorce and unkindness

Expectations are a real difficulty. As I struggle through the dissolution of 24 years of my life and self-definition I am constantly reminded of the unkindness of this life. I didn't count in the bitterness. I didn't count on everything I knew of my partner of 24 years to change in the blink of an eye. Perhaps it was naive to believe we would still be who I knew us to be, just separated. I'm stumbling through the rabbit hole Alice. Nothing is making sense today. I'm caught in the swirl of sadness, awash in hopelessness and stuck in inertia. They say "tomorrow is another day". I'm counting on it being a different day.

Dissolution

I stand in the backyard
struck by memory and
the weight of black eyed susans
like everything, less abundant than
the past,

I walk a stilted gait
crippled by the uncertainty
weepy with regrets and
happier times running
reel to reel in the theater
of my mind,

I stumble up the brick steps
through the chastened screen door
to encounter evidence
empty little silver foil packet
repeats, repeats, repeats,
your lack of commitment
absence from the totality of
our lives,

My spine lengthens
bathed in the hot cold anger
my suffering leads me to doubt
reality's hand on my arm
a simple song to hum
in delicate, complex times,
we are unraveling,

A life dissolved
phoenix circling
seeking purchase
a limb to perch on
invite the death,
rebirth.

Insatiable Memory

I thought of you today

scanning a photo to share

she remembered a memory

and you rose up

a beautiful, poignant watercolor

inseparable

joy intertwined loss

I miss you

all the indefinable pieces

your kaleidescope eyes

your open mouthed laugh

your long, lean limbs

the smell of your baking

forever etched in my senses

a measuring tool for my dessert endeavors

I'm not fun anymore

if ever I was

some spark has gone missing

integral part, that joie de vivre

difficult to kindle

a struggle to survive

I remember it

in your eyes

I miss my long curly hair and

I think I want to pierce my nose

odd notions for an almost 40 yr old

mid-life crisis swelling early?

or young adult desires delayed?

No difference,

it's all yearning

an insatiate wish

unattainable

ridiculous dreams.

For Jim - Who asked for a poem on what love is.

When I was a child

Love was the warm glow

of birthday candles

Illuminating comfort,

Hide n' go seek,

On balmy summer nights

Lit by fireflies,

Sweetly innocent

Rippling laughter

Soft as chenille,

Serene as my grandmother's

Cornflower blue eyes,

 

As I grew older

Love became this tangled growth

Difficult to discern

Strangely cumbersome and

Infinitely slippery,

Piercing,

An arrow in my chest

A burning in my throat,

A chess match of taking sides

Never belonging to any

A tug-of-war through

Other people's pain,

 

When I fell into it

Love became insanity,

Delirium in

Arid, scorching deserts

Blinding, white-out storms,

A deluge of bleeding

Fingers, hearts, and

Bruised skin

The yearning a knot lodged

In my stomach and throat ,

A fury of passion,

Desperation to drink poison

If it came from the beloved's lips,

 

When I spurned it

Love became haughty,

A useful tool,

Cynical laugh,

Amused eyes,

A smirk for a smile,

Razor words wielded

With wintry precision,

Numbness

To cover the scars

That continued to bleed,

Compunction,

Desire to hurt

As I was hurting,

A knife

To twist,

 

When my daughter was born

Love became feral,

Bared teeth to protect

Terror a living thing

A bird beating through my ribs

To escape

The certainty that this,

This small, wondrous miracle

Was more than I deserved,

Abysmal thoughts of loss,

Threatened to unhinge,

Snapping through

My chain,

 

Now I know love,

As the infinitesimal care

Of holding another's imperfections

Cupped in the palm of your hand

Fully cognizant of the fragility

As they themselves

Hold your own,

Seeing beyond the layers

Stretching definitions

Accepting the mystery of another

With grace and gratitude,

Letting expectation unwind,

Flowing, intertwining,

Braiding bodies, hearts, minds,

Singing a history of together

Where regrets cannot take root

There is no room for such

When everything has brought you here.

 

Love is pain

Unutterable suffering,

Indescribable beauty

Rapturous joy,

Two sides of the same whole,

I would not grieve

If I did not love,

And pain would not swell

If joy had not leapt in

The eyes of another

While looking into my own.

 

Love is a stripping away

 And tenderly replacing process,

Love is remembering

Names, details,

the tilt of head,

the expression in eyes,

Pink tights, pigtails,

Stones in pockets,

A knitted scarf,

The blush of skin,

Gruffness of voice,

All the bits

that define,

The flow of days

Into years,

The hand that slipped into yours

and stayed there

Until slipping away,

The words in the dark,

Secret smiles, private jokes,

The building of something

Greater than the sum of its parts.

 

Love is Gestalt

A mystery masking

As a word.

I'm just tired

I find it strange that people are so age hysterical. It seems odd to me when someone refers to my age and insinuates that my chronological designation defines every facet of my existence. I don't feel old. (Am I supposed to??) I just feel mighty responsible and tired most days. I give myself permission, on occasion, to take a nap. I cook homemade meals every day. I make desserts from scratch. I don't find age to be a determinant in my daily life. Reality would seem to indicate that for the VAST majority of individuals age isn't an indicator of maturation.. I do find that my values don't appear to be the shared values of the general public. That could be age related.. or it could be education related, gender related, culture related, etc. Again, I'm glad that I'm not sharing the morals of the majority. I find them lacking.

Of course there are some things that appear to be age related in my perspective. I don't care to be found attractive to the general male populace. It enters my mind on occasion since those deemed attractive tend to make more money; for no other reason than another's desire to copulate with them. The testosterone hyperactivity appears to engage some disdain switch in my makeup, which then activates the desire to verbally beat the immaturity out of said "man". I'm definitely at an age where the mindless march annoys me.

I love technology. True, I'm not utilizing my iPod to it's maximum capabilities, as is frequently pointed out to me by my now teenage daughter. But that's why it's my iPod.. I like gaming, love PS3 and have a blast with the Wii. I don't pay a bill unless it's online. Every question I need answered comes from an .edu, .org or .gov. - which helps me retain my sanity and doesn't involve public situations in libraries where I am bound to have violent thoughts concerning other people in my space. I despise Wal-Mart and the mindset of patrons it seems to cultivate. I wish I didn't have neighbors, or at least live a good mile or two from them. I don't believe in excuses or the need for them. Maybe I am old. Maybe I'm just tired of the BS and see no need to entertain it.

Lemme see if I've got this straight.. I go to school, get in debt to the tune of 80 g's to get an "elevated" degree that pays less than Chuck's B.S. and 10 years experience.. (no pun intended on the B.S. - sometimes it just works out so naturally!) So I go do this and work 40+ hours a week in a miserable job with an unmedicated bipolar boss. Leave said miserable job for an even lower paying job that isn't as miserable and only work 40 hours a week. Hmm, improvment. So I work my 40 hours a week, pick my daughter up everyday after school, drop off my soon to be step-mother, make dinner nightly, feed the cats and dog, take the dog out, buy the groceries, pay the bills, do the laundry, clean the house and I'm not entitled to 30 minutes of peace in the evening because it's HUGE news that Lebron is playing b-ball?? I'm a god-awful tyrant because I don't give a rat's ass? and because I further more ask repeatedly to not be inundated with play-by-play analysis, I'm completely out of touch with reality, a mean person, and this event is hugely important to everyone on the planet except me - because clearly I'm a maladjusted individual.. Further compounded by the statement that I just don't understand because I'm white. Wow. Now my ethnicity has the final say in my personality characteristics - likes and dislikes?

Gross generalizations aside, I don't care to partake in popular culture. I have never watched an episode of Jersey Shore and I'm perfectly satisfied with that status. I've never watched LOST. I've never watched Sex and the City.. and yet, amazingly enough I still function every day. It's possible that I'm the mal-adjusted one, but leave me to my mal-adjustment! Who am I harming?? If anything it leaves more popular culture for the rest of the lemmings.