Sometime the weary come
Only it don’t fade so fast
And damn you John Berryman
With your booze and dem bones,
That voice too familiar to my own.
No one sees me weary
And if they knew
My heart sore on the pavement?
“Unique and special”,
“Nary one a rude and
aggressive bone”
“A wonderful person”
So much is she and yet
Not his words, his time,
But his dick do she get.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
all mimsy were the borogroves...
I am strangely serene and happy today. The past few days’ thoughts have come up to surface in a blush on warm cheeks only to settle quietly on gentle smiles. Last night in conversations I recalled a friend who last July committed suicide, ending my three month sabbatical into celibacy. Vulnerably I came out of my solitude and met *R and learned to give even more unconditionally if that’s possible.
May, my darling *J had just graduated with her degrees and was moving to Berkley. Planning a dinner was put off until suddenly she was gone…off on her way. I called her a month later. “Baby, Steve is gone….” And we cried. At the funeral his wife Kanami clung to me and in her little girl voice of broken English, whispered “is so unfair”
“Hush, I know darling…” We lose people too easy but I would rather have and lose than to never know.
on being the peach, on being a woman
Last night the air was sweet and the moon full but there was little breeze. Last night I took lessons on being a woman. Funny what a man can tell you about your own nature. Or rather what your own nature is supposed to be. Intention versus perception, what is real? But what he said struck home.
In retrospect, you should know I grew up in a vaccuum raised by books and apparently Dickens and Poe could only go so far in thier teachings. The rest I suppose should have been learned from human interaction. Only there was little human interaction, just books and my own imagination for the longest time.
So now I understand some things about what I should be feeling. As a woman I should want more. In entering an exclusive relationship, I should naturally want it to develop in to something serious. I should be territorial, jealous of other females, perhaps especially the younger ones, the pretty ones, the more exotic ones, the often immature.
But I raised myself from scratch more than I was raised by another. And between that and the hardness I've faced in life, the loss, I truly believe…
Every relationship has a time and place, a depth and duration, a purpose. And we can only know these things as they occur and in hindsight. Though I suppose hope plays a role somewhere in there, I’m not quite sure where, but I always seem to have it in abundance.
We spoke of other things, the house, my moving, friendship...
The line stayed clear and we spoke at length of suddenly having friends you couldn’t walk away from and the panic that instilled in us. The freedom we lost by it and the companionship we gained. That was the key, companionship. Loners I think are such by habit as much by nature, but sometimes we find we need others and it's new way of life to suddenly learn.
So on being a woman? Evidently where I should want marriage, I want companionship and intimacy and where I should be jealous of the young, the pretty, the immature, I find I’m not. For though I may not be the typical female, from where a man stands, as my friend says, I am most definitely all woman.
p.s. thank you my friend for believing I am who I am and difficult to typify. It means a lot that someone actually sees that part of me.
I am strangely serene and happy today. The past few days’ thoughts have come up to surface in a blush on warm cheeks only to settle quietly on gentle smiles. Last night in conversations I recalled a friend who last July committed suicide, ending my three month sabbatical into celibacy. Vulnerably I came out of my solitude and met *R and learned to give even more unconditionally if that’s possible.
May, my darling *J had just graduated with her degrees and was moving to Berkley. Planning a dinner was put off until suddenly she was gone…off on her way. I called her a month later. “Baby, Steve is gone….” And we cried. At the funeral his wife Kanami clung to me and in her little girl voice of broken English, whispered “is so unfair”
“Hush, I know darling…” We lose people too easy but I would rather have and lose than to never know.
on being the peach, on being a woman
Last night the air was sweet and the moon full but there was little breeze. Last night I took lessons on being a woman. Funny what a man can tell you about your own nature. Or rather what your own nature is supposed to be. Intention versus perception, what is real? But what he said struck home.
In retrospect, you should know I grew up in a vaccuum raised by books and apparently Dickens and Poe could only go so far in thier teachings. The rest I suppose should have been learned from human interaction. Only there was little human interaction, just books and my own imagination for the longest time.
So now I understand some things about what I should be feeling. As a woman I should want more. In entering an exclusive relationship, I should naturally want it to develop in to something serious. I should be territorial, jealous of other females, perhaps especially the younger ones, the pretty ones, the more exotic ones, the often immature.
But I raised myself from scratch more than I was raised by another. And between that and the hardness I've faced in life, the loss, I truly believe…
Every relationship has a time and place, a depth and duration, a purpose. And we can only know these things as they occur and in hindsight. Though I suppose hope plays a role somewhere in there, I’m not quite sure where, but I always seem to have it in abundance.
We spoke of other things, the house, my moving, friendship...
The line stayed clear and we spoke at length of suddenly having friends you couldn’t walk away from and the panic that instilled in us. The freedom we lost by it and the companionship we gained. That was the key, companionship. Loners I think are such by habit as much by nature, but sometimes we find we need others and it's new way of life to suddenly learn.
So on being a woman? Evidently where I should want marriage, I want companionship and intimacy and where I should be jealous of the young, the pretty, the immature, I find I’m not. For though I may not be the typical female, from where a man stands, as my friend says, I am most definitely all woman.
p.s. thank you my friend for believing I am who I am and difficult to typify. It means a lot that someone actually sees that part of me.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
flash pieces from the last few days...
goodbye to the good luck girl
My ex and I, we split mid-October of 2003, the divorce finalized in January 2004, five days after my birthday. About that time he met *A, that June they moved in together, in March of 2005 they wed. Though he and I weren’t the best match, my feelings were mixed. How could he move on so soon? Was he sure she was the right one? Regardless, I was happy for him.
I have actually met three men I felt fairly compatable with. The first now married, the second now engaged. I am their good luck girl, all having found their mates shortly after my parting with them. Much like my ex, I was not their one.
I have never envied others or wanted what they had. That was one thing that divided my spouse and I. I could always care less what so-and-so had, but sought my own happiness instead. Last week, however, when I found out about *R’s engagement, I thought briefly “where is mine”.
But I made a decision a while back that has made several people angry with me; though we know not what the future brings, I have opted against the “where is mine”. And even though I am spectacular in love – all kinds of bright and shiny passion and hope, I feel it may not be best for me.
So when the fourth and I move on and he finds his one, we can say goodbye to the Good Luck Girl who shined albeit brief.
i wish...
I wish you could assume the best of me and not the worst but I think between your past and your impulsive nature and my trying too hard...
July 18, 2005
my EX
I ended the marraige for good reasons though I ended it poorly. I may speak of his selfishness, of being taken advantage of, but I will give him credit here. He has grown since our divorce, come to understand himself and his needs and acknowledges much...
He has found someone much like me, he says, but that will kick his ass when he needs it and make him listen. I could never do that, it's not who I am. He knows I need someone strong enough, that doesn't need thier ass kicked. Someone that will give me the respect I deserve....without my having to demand it. Someone that gives as much as I do.
And I'm thinking to myself, yeah, good luck with that, my dream of publishing looks more realistic in comparison.
today
In elementary school just after the pledge of allegiance, the principal would say the same thing every day: today is the first day of the rest of your lives. Pretty heavy for a first-grader but taken to heart. We are so impressionable that young aren’t we?
So today is the first day of the rest of your lives, what are you going to do with it?
If I can give up caffeine, can you give up smoking or drink less? If I start eating healthier, would you eat healthier with me…now and then? If I were to walk a mile, would you walk two? If I were to think less introspectively, would you think more?
Today is the first day of the rest of your lives, how about just trying not to fuck it up? I think that’s my general plan anyway. Baby steps as my Dad says.
on friendship
What do I want in a man? (Be it lover or mate.) For them to compliment me to their friends but not speak of the emotional things that lie between us. I understand though, that sometimes one feels they can’t speak to the other so they seek input from elsewhere. It’s in our nature. And a friend will always commiserate, support our views.
A good friend, however, will not. They will see things objectively. So if he sought a friend in which to confide? I can only say find one that can be objective or one that knows my nature and can be as true to me as they are to him.
yesterday i was thinking...
I don’t argue and don’t get jealous, though I have a need for understanding. Usually, I back down and walk away. I’m good at that…walking away, cutting people out of my life. Acquiescence is in my nature really. I am the peacemaker, was the glue that held my family together so long after we all dispersed. In fact, there’s not a mean bone in my body – deep cold maybe, but not mean.
Tenderhearted, yes, and as my ex says, big-hearted. Even the cause of my worse heartache from many days past could call and I would come for him. Anywhere anytime with my monetary means. A friend in need and all that sappy crap. That’s me.
Accusations that go against any part of my nature that I know to be true though? They hurt me much like a fist to the face only worse. They hurt my heart, hurt my soul. That which I guard and I don’t give away easy. There’s a point here:”if you don’t know me by now, you will never ever never know me…”
Can’t tell you how many people I went through online in the six months after my divorce. Went through them like burgers fries or cheap romance novels. Men, women, just looking for friends. I can however count on fingers the number I actually met. Two men made the flirt, two others actually got in my heart and burned a hole and left me grasping for air.
Sometimes I get tired of the cursory conversations. Get tired of meeting and greeting. Get tired of the hopes of even friendship shot down, either theirs or mine. It just flat tires me out, becomes overwhelming. I prefer more depth with those who, well, prefer more depth. It’s just intrinsic that I communicate and know a few people at an intrinsic level. I have found not everyone can handle that.
It’s sadly a word of fair-weather friends. Why? Fear I guess. Fear of rejection, of being rejected, of being hurt. I say screw that. I have one life I plan on living, not hiding so I keep caring even though it wears me out sometimes.
Seemingly antithetical aren’t I? Good at walking away yet with family, trying past the bitter end to hold on. I don’t give my heart and soul up easy but still form deep bonds. Well I never said I was consistent did I? But I’m sure I mentioned I’m blonde. *wink
July 15, 2005
it was wednesday...or tuesday maybe
Shoulders slumped, stomp stomp stomp, I threw myself to the bed emphatically for all of no one to see. It was instinctual in context, not done for dramatics, “God damnit, why the hell are you doing this to me!” Yes I was addressing God by the way and the silence that engulfed me was deafening. The night before my wailing accusations, my good friend told me he’s had a familiar since he was thirteen. I wanted to tell him to be glad cause having a direct line sucks ass. But I didn’t, I was in listen and touch mode as I often was with him. Just existing, not thinking.
The only other time I had been that upset with God (ok, that upset plus inifinity) was when my brother died and the agony of despair manifest itself as an invisible thread between heart and gut. It tightened and tightened until I lay in a dazed stupor, physically unable to unbend for what seemed like hours.
No, this wasn’t near that bad but I was pissed off, upset, let down. Why? Because God gave me doubt. Slapped it right down in my lap like a puppy. Doubt in the form of information. Some of it I knew, some I didn’t but what I pieced through left me…sad. the object of doubt and I, we talked it through and got things clarified and I was on top of the world; communication and clarification, we were on the same page. The next day fell hard though and I was hurt. Reached out to that wich stung.
I have rarely reached out before but I did. I can only tell you that grasping air has got to be one of the most horrible experiences ever, the most recognizable and yet surprising thing each time it occurs. Surprising? Yes, because I keep trusting, each time with more depth and one would think four times too many.
It was Wednesday or Tuesday maybe that bled in to Thursday and now Friday. And the evening is almost gone to gray, the storms so bad today. On the morrow I'll go about picking up this and that which the winds tore away and left scattered across the lawn.
July 12, 2005
cowboy
Was the right thing to do, letting that one go, pushing him away cause he never would a gone on his own. But once away he was away too easy. Yeah, you saw how it was. Uh huh, bye bye. Guess you were glad someone had the guts to break your heart – even if that someone was you. Always, girl, doing what others couldn’t. Like daddy, done so much in his time but on his son’s deathbed unable to make a move so you did. Like mom unable to care, now sometimes you know you care to the point of self abatement. Like brother and sister who ran rampant while you worked knuckles to the bone even while still young. Ok yeah, so that one got away and you’re wondering about how tentative is what you got now? What will the future bring and when. But you stop and think back to the morning’s lessons; daydreams are better spent in the planning of attainment than on the fixation of the end desires. So have fun my Peach in the getting (you know the getting’s good right now) and let the end desires unfold when they will. Watch them in your little girl awe...