Closing Time

Man made time, and dates no doubt to bring order to the chaotic idea of eternity.  In open ended reflection I seek to create new resolve.  I heard it said once, that when you stand close to someone you catch their dreams.  I wonder if anyone has caught mine?

I grew leaps and bounds in 2013.  I learned letting go does not mean giving up.  Cling too tightly to one ideal and you lose sight, perspective and hope.  Releasing myself from the anchor expectation has allowed me to rise to the surface and fill my burning lungs with much needed life.  Much of the year has been spent treading water.  Stupidly waiting for an anchor to rise.  I can see the scars where I let destructive ideals bind me.  Then I realized I did not have to stay close to the anchor, I am free to swim away, and yet for so long I stared at it in contemplation.  People around me prodding me toward the shores of reality saved me from my folly while still allowing me, to be me.  I spent so long with this anchor, thinking it was security, hating the pain it brought by its weight but needing the fixed point that I did not realize it was drowning me.  Stealing my life from me.  It is a crazy amazing thing when you realize you want to live life and not the shadowy idea of one.  I thank my Shooting Star for saving me.  Sometimes goodbye really is a second chance.

I am on the shore now and the horizon that draws closer is the most amazing, scary, thrilling, and wonderful thing.  New beginnings await.  2014 bring it on!

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Via Galactica

We are the stuff of super novae

The dust of cosmos and stars

Crafted by the hands of Providence

Crushed by the gravity of implosion

A moment of violent erruption

Silent arching forward motion

A beautiful vale revealed

I shall sit for a moment like Kundun

Draw deep meditative breaths

Eyes closed; heart open

I will see where we have come from

Opening my eyes, know, where we are going.

Zomer Bliksemflits

Bliksem

Verlicht de hemel

Donder ontploft

Regendruppels

Morsen als tranen over mijn wangen

Wind waait hard bomen zwaaien

Ramen weggeschoten en wazig

Blad en ledematen
Buigen
Zwaar van het gewicht van het water

Donder rommelt

Geluiden drijven weg

Regenval verzacht

Nabijgelegen vogels kwetteren

Geïrriteerd door de douche
Wormen en insecten komen te voorschijn

De aarde is te nat om te ademen

De zon gluurt

Schijnt en droogt

Achter de grijze weg

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Building on Sand

A sketchy future is nothing to me.  Most days I try not to look ahead.  It is not some grand gesture of philosophic superiority but rather a stone cold fear of reality.  I do not have much.  I have a computer, I have an old car with hundreds of thousands of miles on it, I have two kids.  I live in someone else’s home.  For the moment I have work.  I am in a bit of a mad scramble to find more work, permanent work, before this job winds down.  I know I can do almost anything.  Someone might take a chance.  I cannot think that way though because that gives me hope where there really is none.  The broken bits of me are crumbling unable to be repaired.  They say time heals… all time does is erode. 

I will think good thoughts.  I will do good things.  But I have not been given a foundation of stone, I have been given millions upon billions of micro pebbles which shift in wind and pull you down to trap you in water. 

I so desperately want to break the curse laid upon me, if not for me then for my children. 

My Battered Heart

So many grow thinking there is someone for me. Time and again I hoped. I married wrongly, then divorced. I fell in love on line but the complications of time, space and reality crashed that thought to the ground.

I still love him. It makes me angry tho… He lead me on a merry run I’m not the one he wants. I’m not blue eyed, red haired, smoking, English woman. I lied to her so she would feel better. He has her back, he does not need me.

Repossession ~ Or How I woke up one day and decided to take back my life.

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It all starts with love.  It always does.  I become enamored, enraptured and possessed very easily.  I am stubborn and willful when it comes to getting what I want, and the journey of the past few years has been one of learning to let go, to accept, and to understand that life is not about controlling others it is about controlling yourself.

Names and places and any resemblance to real life people is strictly by chance.  Wink wink nudge nudge, No, really, I am serious.  Totally fabricated.  So if you think you see yourself here… you are fucking crazy.  Either that or you have a guilty conscience and you need to take that up with your chosen deity.

Where was I, oh yes, love.  I am a notorious bookworm.  I can read a thousand page novel in eight hours.  This does not leave much time for reality, and breeds a very warped sense of what real life should be.  I do not recommend being a bookworm.  Half of my horrible ideas of relationships came from books filled with tragic and misunderstood heroes and heroines who came to fucked up understandings of how to get along.  Never underestimate the power of words and their impact on other human beings.  My love affair with reading began when I was ten years old.  My crazy father took the television from our home for three years.  I have a huge gap of social events from this time.  I replaced it with trips to the library.  I read through all the young adult section horror to coming of age to romance.  Romance won.  I discreetly began checking out adult romance stories when I was twelve.  My world changed.  My sexual education began to be shaped.  My young mind crafted a need for a hero to woo me.  Upon reflection I doubt this man exists anywhere but in my youthful mind.

High school was a blip.  No one ever flirted with me or paid any attention to me except to call me names like *wheat head* (I had swimmer’s blonde hair) or they asked me about my slutty friend Cassandra who I never really kept touch with after first semester of college.  She wrote me a letter about her new boyfriend wanting a threesome and asked me to join.  As a nineteen year old virgin the idea of my best friend wanting this event did not fit with the mental picture of what I thought my first time should be.

College, or as those in other parts of the world call it Uni, was interesting.  I spent several months obsessing over a young man who I learned many years later had made a promise never to do anything with me out of respect of his friendship with someone else.  This, when I discovered this, pissed me the fuck off.  And I am fairly certain karma is working itself out with the pair of them so while it makes me sad that they are suffering,  they did it to themselves.

I took lots of poetry classes and literature classes in college.  I love writing.  I love words.  It has taken me a lifetime to rediscover this love and I owe it to someone I shall call Tijger.  He knows who he is.  Tijger has been one of the best things to ever happen to me.  He has traveled with me through the hardest times of my life.  I owe him so much.  I love him, unconditionally.  Enough about him for the moment… he was not there when I was in college because if he was I doubt I would be writing this story, it would be something totally different.

I fell for a bad boy.  I always thought that bad boys were secretly good.  This is not true.  This was a myth it took lots of time to disprove.  I think I should have paid closer attention to Anne Shirley when she spoke of wanting someone who was good, but just a little bit wicked. I am not super exotic when it comes to my personal tastes, well maybe I am, but I am not looking for extreme.  This bad boy was also divergent and is someone who will never love me or desire me as I want.  This was a very difficult lesson to learn.  A lesson compounded by children and a failed marriage.  God gave me what I asked for and prayed for, I thanked him for it …. only to discover that no, it was not want I wanted but more importantly not what I needed.

I was relentless in my pursuit.  I shut out friends and family his and mine who warned me about him.  I knew best.  There is only so much they can do to stop someone hell bent on running into a brick wall.  Here, hold my beer… and I don’t even drink a lot of beer.

I must say, I am glad that I waited until I was ready to have sex.  I put everything I read about to use and learned as I went.  It was incredible.  Not many people can say that about their first time, I know I have talked to a lot of people. It is not the honey moon phase of my relationship which I will pull apart and share.  He was charming and all that for a bit.  Or maybe I painted a picture of a charming man.  After we slept together he did not really talk to me.  This should have been a huge flashing sign.  He got laid ergo I had no further spot in his world.  But no, I adopted the odd position that it was a phase and we were meant to be…ding dong dumb… programming from literature cluttered my head.  I was right. I was the heroine of my own life.  I would have my happily ever after with the man who took my virginity.  Yeah… see, not so much.

Tall Drink of Water

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Pour a glass of ice water

Drop a lemon in

Stir with a long spoon

set it on a coaster

feel the cool on finger tip

as glass is raised to lips

sip

Slowly the cool river of ice water

falls

quenches and fills

fills the hunger my body feels

the hunger, greater than food

Road Map, Please.

I ask the universe for signs and answers all the time.  I get them but I’d rather they hand me a manual for living my life. 

I’ve gained many years on this planet.  I have almost nothing to show for it except the collection of thoughts in my head.  I’ve met many people from all parts of society the truly destitute to the those who command fortunes greater than any human ever needs. 

I’ve been ill, I’ve been well.  There is nothing strikingly original about me or my hopes and dreams. 

I still make wishes, I set goals, it would just be so much better to know so the path was less bumpy and I could avoid wasting time.