Posts for June 7, 2022 (page 8)

I never saw myself as a survivor.

I have never spent a second in the front,
no seasons slashing my hands in the harvest.

Pure laughter, pure joy.

Integrity. Family. Church.

Yet none of the socially
considered goodness could fight darkness.

Panic attacks.

What’s wrong with me?

Years walking backwards,
Love withdrawn by fear.

Ten years happened.
A supposed heart attack happened.
My body and my wounded heart had had enough.
                   
                  That’s what happened.

Sigh, therapy.

Digging, crying, bleeding.

Accepting.

Healing.

Thanks, Mom.
Thanks, Dad.
You did what your history
And your wounded inner child allowed you to.

Inadvertently your neglecting me
Gave me the two things
which helped me saved myself.  

Knowing that if it was to be done, it had to be done by me.
And if I ever was to found love, I would just have to look within.

turn off flashlight   bright
half-moon  lights the dirt path
muted grey shadows

connect dots above   
trace ancient constellations    
create new

walk in a universe
that brightens midnight footsteps
and this high desert world

Rumba
roams the house with purpose
collecting
dust and dirt
seen and unseen

Her seemingly random treck
somehow covers every spot
every nook, every cranny

Sweeping and sucking

Occasionally she gets hungup
on the edge of a rug or heat vent
but her robot mind usually
works it out and
off she goes! 

If she has a problem 
she lets me know
“Beep!Beep!Beep!”
“Help!Help!Help!”
and I come to the rescue
untangling or removing 
something she couldn’t handle  

When she runs out of juice
she sometimes gets lost
wanders, searching for home
getting weaker, and more desperate 
Until I pluck her up
dump her load and position her on
the charger

Epoch

Chlorophyl morning.

Canopy shadow

understories paths with leaves.

Oxygen levels

swoon my dizzy breath

to prehistoric.

Rounding the trail home,

I imagine dinosaurs

trumpeting at sloths—

would not be surprised

if a pterodactyl flapped

from the heron’s roost.

This is what we feared

when Godzilla smashed airplanes.

Only reel, not real.

Ghost baby,
just when I was just starting to believe
everything is alright, you haunt me.
I never felt your kick
or the stretch of your arm.
I never held you at 3 am
while the rest of the world slept.
Robbed by toxic infiltration,
insect killing dust that I breathed in
deeply while napping in the summer heat.
Or by some recessive gene yet undiscovered,
silent and waiting through generations.
But I told you I loved you
in the quiet way a new mother blushes,
in the reaches of my heart,
in the downward glances
when asked “how are you feeling?”
Ghost baby, no additional text.

you lean down

(closer)

chuckling

at how i go on my tiptoes

to kiss you

but for me

literally

i’m swept off my feet by you

I sometimes long for the valleys and slopes

That are the hills of back home

The way creek beds spill out water

Over cold, moss-covered rocks

Insects cackling amongst bushes and trees

Their loud songs against my ear

A melodic change from the bustle of the city

Being given the opportunity for my feet to go bare

Connecting to the muddy soil

Toe prints fossilizing themselves

Even for just a moment in time

To later be washed away by cool, uninterrupted waters

The smell of wild honeysuckle

Tickling my nose and filling my lungs

The way stinging nettles gently bounce

Around my ankles making a slight connection

A small prick

The earth making me aware I am here on her land

My hands lightly brushing across the tops

Of hanging vines cascading from old trees

The bark detached in places

Seemingly a deer swiping his racks

A carving to make his presence known

Humidity like a warm cloud kissing against my skin

All things connecting as one

My body on and amongst the earth

The earth surrounding all of me

Knowing I am most home here amongst

Life that is a chaotic fury of wonderment

That connects to my outward self

Deepening it’s connection with my inner self

Since the only talents our officials have are self-esteem and lieing

This is how I survived my infancy

13 oz PET evaporated milk
20 oz water
2 tablespoons Karo Syrup

makes six 4 oz bottles
Sterilize as one typically does

Might not be as good as the store bought (have you read an ingredient list?! – terrifying)

Even though we’re trained to think differently
We’re all in this together