Hard

I don’t know what to do so I won’t do anything

I don’t know what to say, so I’ll sing

How come you give it to me, but I never give it to you?

I’m waiting for permission that is only mine to grant

I don’t know why- yes I do- you were hurt by me, I was hurt by you

If I were to tell you how I feel, what would I say?

I think you’re less than perfect too

I’ve committed crimes, but so have you

I don’t give you a hard time, maybe you could try that too

I need you to love me gently, instead of hardly

We don’t speak the same love language and I’m talking to myself again

You start fires, I put them out

You get loud and I want to shout

I don’t know what to do, so I won’t do anything

You won’t hear me complain because I don’t

Maybe you could try a little introspection and I could try a little introspection

We could be each other’s reflection, like we are

We’re made of stars

Why is this so hard

Carnival

Welcome to the carnival

I offer all manner of novelties to delight you

Are your thoughts as wild as a flying trapeze?

I’ve got pills to set your mind at ease

Does your heart feel like it has been trampled by an elephant?

You don’t need to use booze to get bent

I’ll flood your blood with chemical love and adjust the dose to fit like a glove

I’ve perfected my performance to be your ideal physician despite my perpetual exhaustion, hanger and burn out

Ignoring my own pain as I eliminate yours

Neither one of us is listening to the sacred wisdom of our bodies

I suffer long and hard so that you don’t have to feel a thing

In my side-show alley you’ll see that if you want more than an endless stream of candy refills, if you want me to be your shaman instead of your drug dealer, at any time you can feel your feelings instead of suppress them

Take a plunge from the high dive on the wild horse of your unmedicated body

Hear your healing lion’s roar

Let your self-expression soar

Allow yourself to fall into the safety net of the universe

Trust that you belong, that you are a star just as you are

Juggle fire and meet yourself with humor when gravity makes its presence known

Allow yourself to be shot from the cannon of self-doubt, trusting that you will be ok

If healing is a series of flaming hoops

The transformative way out is through

Show yourself what you can do

Dance to uplifting music every day

Cultivate strength and flexibility in body and brain

Remind yourself it is normal to feel insane

In this seemingly crazy world, only you can take the reins

Be the ringleader of your life

It ain’t me, babe

Though I have the hard-won power to prescribe the goodies you crave

To be in control of ourselves we must give up control of everything else

Welcome to the big time

The show can’t go on without you

I applaud you

My eyes are open to witness your marvels and miracles

Rock

When struggling through life

I met the waves head-on

Gasping and nearly drowning as adversity slapped me in the face

Dragging down my body and my morale

Slowly, painfully, my ego was chipped away

Now a smoother stone, when the forces come at me

I bunker down in the stream bed

And let them pass over me with intentional non-effort

Challenges will always be a part of life

I used to be a leaf tossed by the wind

Now I embody the ever-present rock within

This is a practice, not a perfect

My ego still protests in victimized shame

I send a softening breath to my hard-headed brain

And soothe myself

You are OK

This is hard

You are doing your best

You are more than perfect: you are human

Humans get to live the beauty of learning from their experiences

Just breathe

Sex, Money, Dishes

Tell me you’ve never fought with your partner about sex, money, or dishes.

Sex

I used to fight endlessly about sex, mainly because I didn’t want to have it but my partners did, so we’d fight and fuck, then I’d cry and be blinded by images of destroying my body or their body just to stop the rape and the torture of not feeling safe in my skin. Amazingly, we all survived and now I have a loving partner with whom I have gold-medal sex; you have to experience it to believe it, it’s like I’m cashing in on some sex fund which I invested in long ago. Happily I don’t fight about sex anymore- I’ve got a man I’m attracted to inside and out, and he loves me the way I want to be loved.

Money

I used to exchange sex for money. It seemed like there was always too much sex and not enough money in those transactions, or transgressions. Even those back-alley deals were more straight forward than my relationships in which sex was exchanged for the illusion of not being alone, for food, housing or ‘safety’, though I learned that the cost to my physical, mental and spiritual wellbeing which false relationships exacted was not worth the dinners, drinks, gifts of lingerie, attention or the roof over my head. You might get raped if you travel alone, but if you travel with a man you are guaranteed to get raped. Live within your means because fine dining won’t taste good if you are eating with a strange man, believe me I know. If you have to learn on your own I understand, however if my years of pain can help prevent a moment of your suffering, it will have been worth it.

Dishes

Rare is the man who finishes the dishes. Common are the men who stack the dishes artfully in the sink until there is barely room to turn on the faucet. I have noticed this pattern during my co-habitations with men. I’ve done too many dishes. It especially irks me when men drown sponges in the rinsed yet still not washed dish pile, unperturbed as the sponge decomposes into a musty mess. Men seem deaf to the silent cries of the forgotten dish sponge. Day after day, I rescue the sponge, wringing it out and restoring it to its rightful place safe on dry land, in sight. My man shows his love for me not only through our award-winning sex, but also through money (ie, responsibility for personal  finances to contribute to our future together) and dishes: ladies and gentlemen, my man did the dishes tonight, thus allowing me time to write the words you read. If a man loves you he will want to learn your love language, which you must teach him with patience, positive reinforcement, and more patience.

I grew up doing the dishes, in poverty, and sexually molested by family and friends. My sister would beat me when she got in trouble for not doing the dishes with me after we were told to do them, but the alternative would have been getting beaten by my parents for not doing the dishes, so I was going to get beat no matter what I did. I wished that someone would do the fucking dishes with me. A girl can get lonely amidst the dissolving suds.

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.

Sunsets

The most beautiful sunsets
Are the ones I haven’t seen

The only perfect lovers
Are the ones I’ve yet to uncover

My highest self levitates
Just out of reach

I look and listen
Grateful for what my highest self
Has to teach

I learn that
The sunsets I’ve been privileged to see
And the lovers I’ve held close to me
Are both plenty and plenty pretty

What I can feel
Is what’s real
Though my imagination is vivid
Life is for living
And hands are for giving

My hands offer up
This humble poem today
Namaste

Know Peace

Know Peace

…

I’m not perfect
In my human life I’ve been known to lie, steal and cheat
But at least I don’t judge everyone I meet

We’re all just trying to get by
Killing time until we die
Doing the best we know how

I never meant to hurt you
But apparently I did
Though I tried to tread carefully around the minefield of your heart
And did my best to leave you intact as we parted
You intentionally tried to hurt me back
With your scathing attack

Anything personal that I had shared with you
When we were together,
You tried to use against me
In your illogical reasoning
After we broke up (after I broke up with you
for the second time, let’s not forget)

You stabbed me in the back,
Your bruised ego lashing out
Like a child who has yet to learn
That they are not the pivot
Around which the world turns

But honey, I can forgive you
Because I try not to judge
Even those who judge me unfairly
Which is anytime I’m judged

I haven’t walked a mile in your moccasins
But I know how rough the trail can get
You can’t imagine the wear and tear on my soles
You don’t know the first thing about me yet

I try to understand you
Even as you refuse to understand me
I give you empathy
Even as you deny my humanity

So go ahead, immaturely throw your words
They’re just your own mental turds
Landing back on you.
Though you try to smear them on me,
They only stain the tiny glass box
Which imprisons your mind

Because truth is true,
Your thoughts are not my reality
I won’t pretend to know you
Because you sure as shit don’t know me

Remember as you rant and rage, loud and proud,
That whatever hard feelings you have towards me,
Whatever labels you try to put on me,
I felt towards you first.
Only I didn’t try to put you down unnecessarily.
You never knew the depths of my disappointment in you
But you know who broke up with who
Don’t get it twisted

I’m not perfect
And neither are you
Just remember that the next time
You want to throw your insecurity’s poo
Which comes from within you

It is not entirely your fault that you are the way you are
You are a breathing symphony of your life’s experiences
I hope you can acknowledge that I am just that as well
May you and I and everyone
Know peace