Poem: On Waking


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Pinned

a butterfly plucked

from flight by a

4-eyed entomologist

tacked and hung forever

frozen

Limbs

askew and filled with lead

pumped dry from

sleepless climbs through endless starts

with dry breath and thick lips

Eyes

swollen marbles unseeing

remembering lilting dreams

un-blinking

tears dried from cracked blinks

Deep

beneath fathoms of murky sea

bubbles squeezed nitrogen pop

as spiny creatures swim

too close

Heart

chipped down to pebbles

swallowed by a bird

it beating too fast

in her chest

Hammered

to the slab

by the nightly joy ride

that crashed upside down

leaving the driver

Pinned

with the seat belt

still on

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Art: Blazing Hope


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Hope, I am perfectly willing to admit, is one of those things I’ve relied far too much on. My life hasn’t maybe been as tidy as I’ve wanted it to be, but I keep thinking it’s OK because I always have that thing called hope. It can be plastered on anything really and comes in handy for so many situations…

For you see, the discussions for me happen pretty much in my own head: over and over. That looping of thoughts, both of all the stuff that I shouldn’t have done–(it doesn’t last for too long anymore)–and that almost immediate glow of hope trying very hard to wipe out those other stale ruminations of the past.

So I talk with myself constantly (sometimes quite out loud)–trying to set the hope free: that burning hope. I figure if I keep this chatter on long enough, maybe eventually it will set ablaze and blast off into reality.

Unicorns


Last night I was visited by two Golden Unicorns. Interestingly I never knew that such a thing existed until I read about them the next day. They were agitated when I saw them, and surrounded by a glowing light, as though it was just after a storm and the sun was about to come out from  behind a cloud. I believe it was a male and female, but I’m not sure how I know this…I just did. And somehow, I was there to help them. They ran to and fro as I watched them.

They are drawn to gardens I read (but I did not know prior), and there was a woman too that I met. She was quirky and fey, in a greenhouse type structure, but outside too. This woman, with grayish hair, was moving plants from this large garden, from one pot to another. She was making more plants. I was hoping to apprentice with her.

It was a busy area, with many people, almost like a fair. I kept noticing people I knew from the past and present walking by me.

But the unicorns captured my attention. No-one else seemed to notice them. Maybe they were there for my eyes only. Their sighting brings me hope and delight. I know it means good things are in store for me. While it was a bit disturbing that they were upset, I hope I was there to help them too. And together we helped each other.

While I was meditating on their visit this morning, I recalled this piece of pottery that I found years and years ago. I’ve carried it around with me all this time…

Peace be with the Golden Unicorns…

The Costume


It seems that humans through the ages love to dress in costume. Either for ritual or fun, humans have used feathers, paint, colorful cloth, beads and anything they can get their hands on to disguise their normal form.

Long ago it may have been to appease Gods or Goddesses or to look like an animal they were thanking to try to bring down for a hunt. Getting into the spirit of the being may have made this creature closer to the human and therefore better able to communicate with it. Or maybe it was dressing like the spirits from the other world, using the ancestral imagination, dreams and stories to create the human form into something other worldly.

Even now women continue to paint their faces (and men too) just to leave their house for a normal day out, hoping to look better or different–using the magic of makeup to create a new face.We play dress-up, bedeck ourselves with jewels, tattoos and fancy hair–maybe to try to be the fanciest beast in the jungle.

Whenever given the chance, it seems many jump at the chance to be in character, someone other than who they normally are, and come onto the world’s stage as someone new: more glamorous, sexier, crazier, colorful or just a character they love.

So this time of year is not only fun for kids, but adults alike. It’s the time to shed your persona and be someone else. Who do you long to be? What is the other side of you that you don’t show but behind a costume comes out full force? Because when you put one on it allows you to set your personality free.

Don’t wait until a holiday or party to don one. Take any chance to step outside yourself and try on someone new. You may be surprised who is buried inside.

Filling My Dance Card


There has always been this weird thing about me, but I am feeling it so much more clearly in my golden years. It’s the dual part of me that is part loner, part socialite. It’s the oddest thing and at times creates great conflict within me.

Sometimes one of these personas claws to the front and that will be the cloak I may wear for a while. If it’s the loner woman, then I feel very at odds if I’m in large groups for some reason. No-one would really notice this, because I always had a pretty good way of hiding this fact.  But I would feel myself draw in on myself, sort of like a movie character fading out of scene. I was there, but not really.

When I’m feeling the opposite, then I literally can’t stand being by myself anymore. I start hunting for connections of all sorts: one on one or larger. My personality becomes bigger than life and when I’m in a group I seem to draw people to me. I once took a test of “How Charismatic Are You” and I scored off the charts. And a friend once told me I do this “Marilyn Monroe” thing where I just turned on the sex appeal-just like a switch. I believe that’s this part of my dual personality.

These two sides clash and so it becomes hard for others to know who they are dealing with at times. Most think I’m warm and friendly. It’s the side I try to put forward. But I really tend to see myself as very comfortable alone, and sometimes even preferring it. It may come from being raised an only child–and a latch-key kid at that! I spent many, many hours with nothing but my imagination for a companion.

As I get older, it get scarier to think about living alone the rest of my life. I have many friends all over the country. I make friends easily and keep them. Talking to strangers is something I’ve always done, maybe because I grew up in New York City where personal space is much closer than New England where I live now. It’s harder to make friends here I find. And definitely harder to find intimacy. Or maybe it’s me? Maybe my need to be alone so much is detected and can’t be incorporated into a relationship?

I would think by middle age most people would need lots of personal time and space? This doesn’t seem like a lot to ask. I’ve learned how to balance my social desires and my “I vant to be alone” moments much better than years past. It used to be that I might shut down or close people out because these times crept up on me.  But now I realize that my need for internal quiet is simply a necessity for me and I can identify them maturely.

In analyzing myself (which I do ad nauseam), I could link the fact that I was abandoned by my birth mother quite young to the fact that I learned to be a loner at an early age. It was a survival technique I suppose. And yet I also had to learn to be social in order to survive within the environment where I was left so people would care for me. So this constant internal juxtaposition has always been at play.

I’m currently in a place, as summer reaches its apex and we plummet towards fall then winter, where I don’t want to be lonely during the cold days. So I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands and find a community and make some new friends…hopefully. I’m going back to the Unitarian Universalist Church in a nearby town to see if I can stir up anything. I used to go there years ago, and was a member of a UU church when I lived in Upstate NY. They are welcoming, liberal and socially active. And that’s the other thing: I want to be more socially active. Time to walk my talk more.

So, no more sitting around weekends feeling sorry for my lonely self. Time to take this charismatic personality and step out into the big world (or small town) and say “here I am!” Hopefully the other self won’t come creeping around and try to steal the show while I’m filling my dance card.