Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Waking Up

It is possible
And certainly certain
That I am wrong about many things
That I am sure that I know

Tonglen

Sorrow pours over like ink
Like gel covering – sealing
And I struggle, struggle

To take it in
To transform it to joy
To breathe it out

Grief Swallows Me

I am sorry
I am sorry for
I sorrow
Sorrow in unending supply

Magic Limerick

A chimp walked down the road
Carrying quite a load
He had a balloon
And he sang a tune
And this limerick sucks.

Monkey Play

A monkey swung upon a tree
Throwing poop at you and me
We covered our heads and ran away
'Cause that's not the way we want to play!

Sanctification

To serve means
To give my hands away
To let them be used
By a higher source
For a higher purpose
It sanctifies them.

Service Enlightenment

To serve takes me out of myself
My self disappears
My concerns for appearance
My concerns for image
All gone
All gone
Instead there is only other
And Service
And Spirit
And Love
To serve takes me out of myself
It's a well-trodden path to enlightenment

I Don't Know

I don't know what it might be like
To grow up happy without beatings
To grow up with love and with cuddles.

It left me so confused
So broken
I confuse love and lust

I never felt touch before
I've never known
Compassion - just compassion

Without romance.
It makes me so confused
So I am angry.

I don't get to know
What normal is like
I've always been broken

Thanks a lot.

Weather Surprise

Weather whethers us
With sudden showers
Overcast Days
Sunshine breaking
Magnificently through
And sometimes - comes
The storm of the century
We hunker down
Thinking that we are
Prepared or
Knowing that we are not
And wait, our fear sliding
Into numbness, numbness
Crushing into resignation,
Resignation dissolving
Into the certainty that
We will not survive!
And then. Gift. We do.

Haven

I give love
Held up by love
Learn and Grow
Gratitude
Music = satisfaction
Safe zone

dork fork

He called me dork
Not meaning cool

Like I would mean
No, his was hate talk

It made a fork with my truth
And so I walked away

Feel

I walk the beach
Something is dead
Half buried in the sand
Showing only its sand-swept head
And I wonder what it is
And should I feel something

Freedom

freedom
         wind
     fast
          hill
                 scary

       dangerous

  slicing

             curves
                     dainty
                             asian girl
wheels
         clatter
               sssssssssslide
                                   jump!
                                           
                                        Wow!!!

dance

dance
    bow
        civilized
            joy
        twirling
    spinning
ballooning
            skirt
                      swinging
                            ponytail
                      Jordan
            dances

Food is Hard

Fast or famine,
Food
And my relationship

With it
Is a touchstone touting
My State

Happy I thin down
Too excited by my joyful
Journey to remember to eat.

Depressed, I'm damaged
By Desire for food
And Weight weighs me down.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Caretake You

I want to look into your heart
To see your pain
To see what has wronged you
And do what I can to make you safe

I want to look into my heart
To see my pain
To see what has wronged me
And to do what I can to make me safe.

True at the same time is easy
Not true is something pretty fuckin' queasy
Can't stop loving, don't wanna
Can't fix shit, I am helpless.

Hurt Haiku

Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt
Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt
Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt

Actions Louder Than Words

What are you doing? You pulse
Pulsar? Touch dream hard give
It to me I think that your life
Love is enough is enough
For a damn dream execution
Execution? Hardly such sentence
And you just drive pain
Pain Pain Pain Pain Pain
Into my fuckin' heart
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.
You fuckin' liar.
You know what? Just fuck yourself.
You said you love?
You don't show it.
Actions louder than words.
Actions louder than words.
Actions louder than words, baby.
Show me me don't tell me.

You and Abuse

My abusers taught me
That I was worth-less
My abusers taught me that I
Couldn't be worth less.
So you can imagine my
Lack of surprise
My lack of surprise
That you are ashamed for
People to know that I care for you.
I have expected it my entire life.

Ashamed of Me

It is so hard to love
When you say you love me
But you act ashamed.

Of me.

Don't tie my heart into bondage
To abuse. To abuse.
I deserve love from someone
Who doesn't find
My love shameful.
Who doesn't find
My love shameful.

Let me go.
Let me go.
Don't hang on to what you despise.
I deserve better than that.
I deserve better than that.

It is so hard to love
When you say you love me
But you act ashamed.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Let People In

I spent my whole life being unlovable
Trying to just get by with this crappy life
Resigned to loneliness – hiding brokenness
Ashamed ashamed ashamed ashamed

Now I am trying something scarily different
Maybe there are people who would love me
Maybe I just have to risk – to let people in
That is the scariest thing I've ever thought.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Poetry With Patrick

Writing poetry
With other people
Is both better and harder
Than my solitary practice

Better because love
Of poetry and folk
Delight in bringing them together
The worse — wait for the end

Some want to leap into the void
Letting poetry leap to the page
Doing it in the company of others
Having companionable support

For others – more stressful
They wait to be sure that they
Understand the prompt
Fearful of doing it wrong

For me as leader
It is quite similar
To leading meditation
Guiding is not doing

Guiding is not doingl

I find it good to support
But I need more time to write!

Poetry With Patrick is an ad-hoc lunch-time group I am leading this April at the Saint Vincent de Paul Wellness Center. We meet Monday through Friday and quite exceptional things are accomplished. The participants fall into three groupsFirst, clients, poor, some homeless, some of us mentally ill or with substance abuse issues. Second, there are volunteers from 18 to 80 motivated to help. Finally there is staff. Good comes from them writing poetry together.

Probably Wrong

It is possible –
Probably certain
That I am wrong
About many things
That I'm sure that I know

Tonglen

Sorrow pours over like ink
Like a gel covering and sealing
And I struggle struggle to take it in –
Transform it to joy and send it back out

Tonglen is a Tibetan Buddhist practice of breathing in suffering and discourse from the world, transforming it to settled peace to breathe back out, a gift to the world. I like it.

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Broken Heart

I watch her try
It hurts so much
He's just not into her
And she's giving herself
Away on a fruitless quest
Not my place to tell her

If only he would understand
He's not into her
We can still make it work
He thinks she's controlling
How can I change so he'll like me
She's always angry
He said that's what he wanted
And wants to change me
Why won't he understand?
She doesn't like me as I am.
It will work if he'll just try

I don't see
How I ever thought
I was into her

What does he want?
How can I please him?
We can make it work.

Dedicated to Allyson because it is her birthday. I have been putting off writing this particular poem but I promised drinking and poetry writing in honor of her day.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Who Is She?

He, the center of the group
Thinks himself fraud
Tap dancing to cover it up.
And she?
She was visible as a reflection
Or as mother
Or? I don't know.
Frankly, it is hard to see her.

East to see him,
Creative
Artist
Poet
Misunderstood
Caring parent but
Clearly not that practical.

Who is She?
She holds it together.
Flashes of brilliance.
Clearly extraordinary
But
In their family man is the man.
Man! Is! The! Man.
Boy child celebrated
Girl child starving to be seen
Girl child starving to be seen.
(Trying to keep her under control
Is not the same as seeing her.)
That is a sad thing
She's so smart
Which? Both.
They are so broken.
Women matter too.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

She Said

She said I had a fuckable spirit.
My spirit squeed (squee'd?) and grinned
And danced! Danced! Danced!
Ooh la la!

Friday, April 3, 2015

You Gotta Know

You gotta know my brain ain't like yours
Mental illness ain't like you have a bad day
I hear a crack like the snap of a belt
And I have visions, images, re-plays,
                Flashbacks!
Of beat beat beat tiny boy trying
To be good don't complain don't cry
Don't put back the hands
Cooperate while He
Beat on bare bottom with a leather belt
Crack Crack Crack
And I believe
I am nothing but shit.

That ain't for just a moment, minute, hour, day
That's days. Days of pain I can barely endure
Pain where I feel better if I take a blade and
Cut My Flesh
Cut. Cut. Cut.

Flashbacks need lots of good days
Lots of good days to ease up.
I never know that I won't kill myself
I never know that I won't kill myself
I just endure for now
Just endure for now
Practice my coping skills

Some say PTSD rewires brains
That I need to learn to cope
Because I won't get better
There's a cheerful thought.
I hope they are wrong
Isn't decades of this shit
Enough punishment
For someone else's anger?

Thursday, April 2, 2015