Lines

Communication lines cut

Like my teenage forearms, in an attempt to let the pain out

Communication lines cut, if they were ever up and running to begin with

The first lesson you taught me was to communicate inauthentically

Communication lines cut

Through the deafening silence I imagine

The antagonizing and agonizing thoughts, words, and actions you are firing at me

In our power play, who will yield first

You make a mess and wait for me to clean it up

Furious that I’ve failed, yet again, to read your mind

I’m done living pathetically

I used to think that my life depended on keeping you content

Now I realize that you need me more than I need you

I don’t want to enable the toxicity of our relationship anymore

Given that our relationship was only me acting to please you, it isn’t much to lose

I don’t know if I will ever drop a line to tell you

May you experience deep healing on your journey

Friend

Sometimes I create to destroy

To show my exes how well I do without them

Not that they see, and not that I want them keeping tabs on me

More often, I create to give

To share with others what I’ve learned from living

New Year’s was a holiday I repeatedly did wrong

Galavanting around town wearing the wrong clothes

Cheap sparkly heels and ripped panty hose

Spent the night with the wrong guys

Couldn’t feel small dicks between my thighs

Drank liquor that was too strong

Stayed out far too long

The morning after felt sober and nauseous

How can I be such a worrywort yet not at all cautious 

Tried to commune with nature in the backyard

The deer snorted at me and stomped their hooves hard

I took a bath and wished it could wash away what can’t be seen

Sexually transmitted disease, loneliness and low self-esteem

Some years I did some things right 

Ate a nourishing meal and went to bed at a reasonable hour last night

Though I am working today instead of napping and brunching like I’m high class

That’s ok- there are worse ways to spend New Years Day. 

I find peace in knowing that I won’t make the same mistakes again, after having made the same mistakes again and again.

Today is an opportunity to treat myself like a friend

The new year stretches before me like an unfurled roll of fresh toilet paper

May I commit every moment to the simple life, instead of my usual wild caper 

Bouncy Ball

Resilient sphere of color

I throw you down but you only bounce back higher

Dancing down the stream

You get caught on rocks and fallen leaves

I free you and follow you down the babbling brook

Your journey is again halted by forest debris

I dislodge you with a stick and you bound onward

Carried effortlessly by the water

I was told that all rivers flow to the ocean

I am determined to travel there with you, to see this through

Then I learn that water sometimes moves underground

Branch still in hand, we are both stuck on land

I didn’t account for this

Years later, I am an adult in a high-pressure profession

Just now pausing after years of running

As if I’ve been chasing a ball down a stream

Bouncing from one goal to the next

I am bewildered by the restless movement which only distanced me from my heart’s desires

In exchange for passing tests, I received more tests

No one ever asked me if I want to be tested

I value serenity and peace, meditation in nature

I was already where I wanted to be

When I was a girl with a rubber ball

Bring me back to that forest stream

I will stand in it

Let the cool water wash over my feet

Bouncy ball by my side

In stillness and simple satisfaction

We will stay

Centering

You are safe

You are loved

You are supported

From below and above

You are the love you seek

You are the other cheek

May every breath remind you

That you are blessed in all you do

Immunizations and Sun Salutations

I stand at the crossroads

Between immunizations and sun salutations

Walking the line between

East in my heart and

West in my mind

I look down at my moral compass, then up at the stars

I rest on my yoga mat

As I third-eye gaze beyond mental bars

Melting away that which keeps me confined

Letting go of that which was never mine

Opening my awareness

To the countless expressions of love

Which surround us

Including these words

Which I lovingly write for you

Immunizations and sun salutations

Are manifestations of love too

I thrive with both

I want you to know

So that you can thrive too

Because I love you

Practicing Presence

I have good reason
To feel over-worked and under-paid
Burnt out, with a need to get laid
But good loving is hard to come by

I also have many reasons
To feel hopeful, joyful, grateful
Even satisfied

I’m not gonna lie
I’ve got a flame of desire between my thighs
That you light up with your eyes

Every time I see you, I re-realize
That life is only right here, right now
All we ever have is the present
For the divine gift of your presence, I thank you

Who could ever win the tug-of-war
Between past regrets and future worries?

It is hard to shake off the trauma that clings to me
I try to slip under it, but trauma’s tentacles are tenacious and latch onto me
But I know a secret trick
Without my ego, trauma has nothing to latch onto
I have acquired immunity
I shrink my ego enough to escape trauma’s grasp, float downstream and buoyantly resurface, safely out of reach

When I return from my latest circumnavigation of space-time
And redirect my awareness back to
where I am in this moment
what is happening in this moment
how I feel in this moment
I feel victorious!

Practicing presence is the only way
To be happy, healthy, and free

I wish such peace to thee

Absinthe and Abstinence

Instead of drinking absinthe

I wish I’d practiced abstinence

Absinthe passed through my lips

You followed suit, more than just the tip

I was butter and you were the knife

Wish I could take back that night

Spread out like jam on toast

On a Manhattan mattress, we did the most

It got so hot, we were the roast

But I was the one who got burned

Absinthe, you brought on sweat, blood and tears

Abstinence, you would have spared me much fear

Absinthe, why’d you help me undress?

Abstinence, you would have prevented stress

Absinthe, you never delivered that green fairy

Abstinence, your fruit is sweeter than the ripest berry

Absinthe, under your tutelage I’ve grown wary

Now I practice abstinence

From every Tom, Dick and Harry

and all the other men who didn’t have my best interest at heart-

You protested loudly when I told you we had to part.

You don’t have to understand

You just have to know that you’re not my man.

Little Prayer

I humbly offer a little prayer
For the little life
That grew inside me for a while
They were due to be born yesterday

I think it was a girl
I will never know for sure
Not knowing is part of the price I pay for ending the pregnancy
How I would have loved to love her

Unbeknownst to me at the time of conception, her daddy was not fit to raise a baby with
Nine weeks later, he made it apparent that I needed to have nothing to do with him        In order to protect my own wellbeing

At the same time, I lacked the socioeconomic resources
to have the baby without him
So I gave her up, though I struggled to pay for the abortion

I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to Planned Parenthood, the Women’s Action Fund, and the many strong, generous advocates of women’s rights around the world. Thank you.

To the ignorant people and policies that get in the way of women accessing the health care they need, to those who do harm by being obnoxious obstacles to women’s rights, and to the health insurance companies that don’t cover jack shit of abortive care, I would like to express a sincere ‘Fuck You’.

Ending my pregnancy was a tough choice
But I’m glad I made it
It was the best decision for me
I am happier, healthier and freer now because of it

Still, in my mind’s eye I see her sweet eyes
Whisper in her little ears, caress her soft curls
Hold her little fingers and the tiniest of toes
In my imagination, I kiss her cheeks and her nose
I hear her laughter and her cries
I delight in the chubby rolls of her baby thighs

I hope you understand, little life
That your mama did the best she could
With what she had at the time

I bow in deep respect to you
With compassion and gratitude
Beaming always peace and love to you

From the spiritual realm, little life, I’m sure you can see clearly how                                                  Pro-choice is pro-life; pro-women’s lives                                                                          Women’s lives matter                                                                                                                       My abortion allowed me to give birth to my own life                                                                   I am so fortunate to live the life that I want                                                                                 To make decisions about my body                                                                                                  To be free

I pray that all women may know this freedom                                                                             If I had kept the pregnancy and given birth yesterday, I would have raised my child to value and fight for her freedom of choice                                                                                            So that if she got pregnant she could choose to do what is best for herself

 

The Sting of the WASP

I hope this doesn’t offend anyone, it’s just that

I have some long-standing frustration to express.

My personal experiences with the White Anglo-Saxon Protestant culture which I was born into are not meant to characterize everyone who identifies as a WASP.

The WASPy culture of my home community is one in which
everything is wrong, but nobody talks about any of it.

This illusion of perfection only fools ourselves

In reality, we are just as lost, anxious, depressed, alcoholic, drug addicted and trapped in abusive relationships as any other community.
From the outside, everything looks fine:
Picket-white fences, freshly mowed lawns
The house has been painted and the windows washed.
On the inside, our bodies are ravaged by insecurity and fear, leaving us worn down and raw like the bulimics that we are: caught in the binge and purge of a life of vanity.

We’ll do anything to keep up appearances even as we disappear further from our authentic selves.
Putting such effort into pretending to be what we are not is a tremendous waste of energy.
We strive to keep up with our neighbors in an empty shell of consumeristic existence, even though it costs us the true richness of our souls.

We go to church and recite prayers monotonously like mindless drones.
Can any discernible note of true worship be heard when we are only regurgitating printed words without feeling?
In our daily lives, how much are we really doing as Jesus would do in our thoughts and actions?
From what I have seen and heard, we could do much more.

Even as a young child I felt that attending my WASPy church was a time and place to desperately try to save face-
Emphasis was put on what to wear,
Instead of how we felt on the inside, in our hearts and minds.
We went to church to trick ourselves into feeling like we were living our lives right.
When actually we were living quite selfishly,
Without true regard for the suffering of others.
Our capacity to give was far greater than what we actually gave.
Even in giving, we were narcissistically trying to feel better about ourselves.
The same people who faithfully vowed to ‘judge not’ in church
Could be heard loudly judging their neighbors before and after the service.
I don’t want to judge WASPs on being judgmental.
I know they have suffered a lot and are doing the best they know how.

In a sincere wish to help them live their happiest, most fulfilling life

I want to gently remind them that they will suffer less when they judge less.
I’ve noticed that when I judge others, I only hurt myself.
Mentally separating ourselves from other humans by labeling them as ‘other’, ‘inferior’ or ‘defective’ only separates ourselves from our own humanity.
No wonder we often feel that our lives are insanity.
This rings true for judging ourselves too.

I judge myself and others every day, and every moment is a new opportunity to practice non-judgement, which to me is the highest form of spiritual practice.

I feel the heaviness that judging leaves in my heart, and I am ready to lessen my load.
Changing mental habits is a practice, not a perfect.

I feel lighter and happier when I connect through my heart to humanity.

I pray for spiritual awakening and liberation from suffering for all.
It is a goal as lofty as the tallest church steeple-
It is my dream, big enough to include all people.

The divine light within me bows to the divine light within you.

Dance with the Devil

I’ve met the Devil plenty of times
He’s a man with a drink in his hand, asking for mine
He’ll buy me a drink and drop a few dimes
But in the end, he’s just another waste of my time

I’ve seen the Devil at close range
I feel his eyes on me; he looks at me strange
When I hesitate to perform his every wish
(Whether or not I know what his wish is)

At first I make him happier than he’s ever felt before
Until I leave his heart panting on the floor
I survive with him til I remember how much I’d thrive without him

Like anesthesia, my amnesia wears off eventually

And when it does it’s like I wake up in the middle of surgery

Open heart in a bloody mess, I struggle to pick myself up and get dressed

Headed for the horizon, under duress, yet determined and strong, I sing my single song

Until I meet my sacred Devil again

And he gives me another chance to burn, another opportunity to learn

How many times must I learn how to get out of a toxic relationship?

Please, let this be the last time

The key lies in prevention, so I laid down a one simple rule:

Never be alone with a man behind closed doors, especially when alcohol is involved

The Devil likes to dance naked with me
His dick points at me like a compass needle
And I’m due-North, though I’d like to head South
His dick feels like a poison mushroom in my mouth
I want to spit it out, and shout:

Devil be gone- we’ve been dancing too long!
My feet hurt and they’re caked with dirt
Haven’t we made each other suffer enough?
Surely, your attachment to me feels rough
When I rip myself away

I’ve ripped myself away from the Devil
Plenty and plenty of times
I hope that I can quit him for life
You are my witness by reading this rhyme