The hardest thing
is to live with love and kindness
in a cruebullshitworld
I am an atheist so I believe in kindness
And love not because of what is to come
But what is. I am is
Every day I am reminded of my frailty
And temporary status by the pain
That burns my heart and body
I am doing all
I can to stay kind
Anger and pain trick me
somedays I want to die too
The abyss, the last breath
Seems both terrifying and reassuring
At least I don’t have to worry
My body, fat and aging and full of pain
Is all I have. It has mostly bad sides
If I am touched it hurts
If I wake up it hurts
If I walk it hurts
I have lost all hope of not being in hurts
I have accepted it
It has made me free
I dress how I like. I laugh how I want.
I live how I like
And say what I want
If I feel like it, I say fuck you dog shit liar
And if I feel like it, I say, I love you dog shit liar
I know what is mine
my time, my love, my life
I don’t know if you own yours
If you are still trying to become some other time
I could tell you, don’t waste yours
Feeling less than -It’s your brain sucking you
But it’s your choice and sometimes necessary
you are dog shit, after all
You are a dumb dumb. You’ve proved it.
Who isn’t? Who hasn’t ?
Don’t worry if you hate yourself
You probably have good reason
Most of us do
Just accept your a fuckturd
And go from there
The important thing you must
Consider is what kind of you, you’re in
if your going to wear stonewalled brutal you
Or are you going to allow love
space inside your body?
It hurts you, at first, just so you know
And you will have panic attacks
And you will lash out at those around you
You may attempt to take your life
Or run away to another town
And maybe you will
And maybe you’ll find a better job or lover
Or view and a minute
You’ll be able to breathe in your body
And feel the earth between your toes
Just maybe the fear will lessen long
Enough for some love to get in
Some kindness to shuffle to the front
Or a smile widen across your body
And in that moment breathe
Just breathe you in
This is you
Then, look out and see us
The forests and dogs
The 13 lined squirrels and corn flowers
The creeping Charlie and the crows
We are hard and uneven, like you
Breathing here too
Learning to love here too
Sometimes failing here too
Please be gentle with
Press it lightly on
And witness the spec of time we are
The greatest painter to ever paint
Made sure to fuzzy the line
Where one ended and another began
That is what I am trying with your love
This is not the poem I want to write
The poem I want to write is about taking
care of one another
But that poem is boring and nice
It is too polite for us
What the hell are we doing?
Why are we not fucking?
Must I beg for your cock in my mouth?
You are doing dishes and Im pretty
sure you have fever too
Both of the girls do.
I can barely stand. We are dizzy
And puking and coughing and shitting
But you are doing the dishes
You come and check on us
bring water from the other side
of the universe and those cool magic pills.
Yesterday I went to store
and got a bunch of groceries.
you were sleeping and had a fever.
Then I cleaned.
Brought you some pills
And helped the girls.
We take care of each other.
When people complain about being married
I want to say, have you tried sucking his dick?
Maybe if you give it all
maybe the someone else
will give it all back to you
Here, November means fall
And fall is when the leaves change from green yellow pink orange red burgendy brown. And November is when the leaves are mostly burgendy brown with a few yellow holding onto summer.
They all eventually give up and fall to the ground. The wind blows them down the street, which is made of pavement here and the sound of leaves scraping and crunching against it, is the great harbinger of rain and ice and snow and bitter winds and gray skies and negative temperatures. Now it is warm and the sun shines but the sky is a pale blue and the leaves are brown and most are down
This year everything seems important. The way the burgendy brown leaf falls on my open journal as I write or the noise the door makes when eldest daughter opens it, home from high school or the warm soft fur of my little dog. The sweet soft voice of my littlest daughter squeaky singing songs of her imagination or the beep I get when husband texts he is coming home. It is all very important and clear and center of my focus, my awareness, my life
I can’t hold it or collect it or slow it
But I know it and how it feels as it fleets across me, scaring and healing me, breaking and building me -this time fabric, this god to me
We were walking on the shore of lake Michigan, wet and hot
the smell of fish and sand hung strong in the crisp air. You grabbed me and kissed me, squeezed
my breasts, lifted my shirt, exposing my breasts on the dock as an old man in a fishing boat watched.
I pointed at him and we ran away giggling to our friends house where we sang and drank ale.
And I was in love, with you
And with myself
For first time
Dizzy and happy and full of energy
High on being alive in our bodies
Young and brimming with expectations of greatness and wild wondrous success
Eager to earn it and to lose it and fight for it.
For all of it, not settling for damn thing, no regrets, just push push push and play play play
That’s the way we were
That’s how we are now
Because it works works works
To create the life we want
Tomorrow I am going to hawaii
It is going to cost a lot- The kids are coming. My brother and his are coming. But my dog must stay home. I miss him already but more on that later
I was in hawaii once in the airport on a way to guam. The smell of flowers and feel of humid air has stayed with me and vowed me to return.
That was a life time ago but here I am double checking bags and all the things I needed to do to get ready, ready to pick another pipe dream true
Most of my dreams have come true because of Henry. He is magic. I rub him and ask if we can and he says yes.
And that’s how we got the dog. And the babies and the house and all these poems, I’ve written for him so he and you will always know that he existed.
My Henry is a real man
God damn it Henry
you son of a. -fuck- Hell. No
There is no defense.
No cure. it’s hopeless
You smile at me and look at my face and rub my back and tell me jokes and get me to tell you jokes and you tell me how smart and funny and sexy I am and kiss the back of my neck and pour me brandy and ceva ask me questions about light and shadows and time until i start looking down and smiling
Before I know it your snoring
On my face with your right hand on my ass and left around my breasts
Locking me for an hour or so
With a grateful smile