eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
Voting is here: http://www.livejournal.com/poll/?id=2036660





			404

i look at him
sandwich in hand
slowly eating
and see blood
not much, but enough for us to look more closely

five and three-quarters and there goes tooth number one
number two followed in the same manner the next day

take a bite of lunch
swallow a tooth

his big CHEESE smile has a gap now
two front teeth, the ones on the bottom,	
						gone
ready to ride this rodeo again

he doesn’t seem to notice

my son is growing
my baby is 404 not found
he’s learning a new world
he’s living with technology as if it were a friend
		personified
	his tablet may not pass a turing test 
			but it will suffice
		red and black case in hand
	gap-toothed smile
	videos on repeat  
	legos and paw patrol
	grown-ups unboxing toys
	(i don’t get it, don’t comprehend this magnetic pull)
	shopkins, blatant consumerism to be collected
	playdoh before the colors have been used and browned

he smiles
	a space ready for grown-up teeth
      he smiles
	a space the size of my child

a baby no longer
we smile at each other
	giggles

the moment is past
	gone
not found any longer



See it here. Hear it here.

eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
Please go to the following link and VOTE. About half the group I am in (the last one) is being left out of the game. Your vote counts. http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/888626.html




"All lies and jest still, a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest."  simon and garfunkel


			hear me.

listen, let my knees sing to you the songs of their people
 	crackling like fire
		      like gears with no lubrication
			moving ever forward
				    ever aging against themselves

	my toe heals from being cut open
	bunion surgery at 40
		I age with a false smile
		I age with an awkward pain scale
the doctor says I’m fine
	just a little physical therapy 
	lose some weight
		lighten the load i carry
		lighten the load that is me

he sees me as

	BMI
    a magic diagnoses

	obese
		size 18

my complaints no longer matter
i am diagnosed         f a t.
	fibromyalgia is real
		but the pain isn’t

i am told no opiates
	      no muscle relaxers 
	      nothing to calm my nerves
	       or sing me to sleep
i am told that even ibuprofen should be more limited

chronic pain is long term 
	learn to wait it out
	learn to b r e a t h e past it

i learn that my grimaces
		 my yelps
		 my eleven thousand steps a day
		 my massages and my psychiatrist
		 my 7 on the pain scale fall on deaf ears

	diagnosis complete my thoughts are released to the still air

he hears what he sees
	he thinks he understands

my doctor thinks I am fat
my laughs fall like tears
my pain is more than bmi
my pain deserves to be heard

	I  deserve to be  heard




And you can, of course, watch and hear me read if you prefer:




go here to read more entries: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/887291.html?view=80432123#t80432123
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
If you would like to vote for this or any of the other fine entries go here: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/883570.html


The other day my son's school had a Shelter-In-Place due to a person brandishing a weapon nearby. I have dealt with these before, but as a teacher, NOT a parent. I am much more calm and collected when I am in charge of students in such a situation. As for the jackass that kidnapped his girlfriend at gunpoint - I am very glad he was caught and, as far as I know, no one got physically hurt in this incident, but I have choice words for him. As a parent.

Below are two videos: 1: The poem I wrote for this week. 2: Dar William's song "Flinty Kinda Woman" which kept coming to mind when I was journalling, thinking, or writing about this. There is also the poem I wrote, in letters.





(For the record. I don't condone violence. Not violence towards the innocent or the guilty. But this song does speak to me. Having worked with so many people who have been hurt so badly, in so many ways, this song sometimes gets played very, very loudly in my house or in my head.)



              pupa		

we wait
stunted conversation
hot chamomile tea with honey in front of us
	hot enough to burn tongues
	just too hot to hold
		but we do

the police perimeter is fuzzy 	
	but i live nearby 
	i walk my son to school
	i pick him up on foot
	
       i don’t know if i should leave my house

she sits with me
	tear streaked face
	we try not to worry
	to be rational
	to know the odds of harm are slim

but

our children are five years old
five years innocent
	their hugs are tackles
	their worries do not involve	
		domestic disputes, kidnapping, and guns
	their knowledge should not have to  include 
		
		shelter
		    in 
		 place

	the suspect is in custody
	there is no longer a police perimeter

happy to see us and innocent they run to us
	allowed freedom
	allowed safety
	allowed to open their classroom curtains and see again
they are ready to go home
	we are ready to take them
	to wrap them in our arms
		keep them in this pupa stage
		between caterpillar and butterfly
		between innocent and worldly

i don’t want him to be naive
but i don’t want him to know about domestic disputes 
	and kidnapping at gunpoint
      i want his innocence to last just a little bit longer

butterflies are beautiful but only live for a month

can i keep him in this chrysalis
protect him from the world of anger and violence

we watch as their wings emerge

just maybe

Dec. 28th, 2015 04:15 pm
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)


			just maybe

i ain’t no panglossian pollyanna 
i fall into the muck and mire that surrounds me
my eyelids 
	show christmas past 
	mixed with the nightmares of a child grown

i ain’t no mother theresa on my way to sainthood
	having dedicated my life to helping, to saving, to giving
	i am too jaded to be always optimistic
        too fallible to walk the road to sainthood 
		or to become an american classic of sweetness and naivete

i am so very, very human

maybe i should meditate more
	practice my sun salutations to greet each morning
	drink smoothies made with kale harvested from my garden
	sing songs of hope while i dance naked in the bone-white light of the moon
	
maybe i should reach deeply in my psyche to find peace and a smile
	a smile so big, and so honest, that my troubles will crumble 
		the corners of my mouth will be so sharp that my fears will run and hide
		lips so plump and soft that adversarial words will use them for pillows
			and become no more than a wisp of a bad dream

or maybe i should decorate my christmas tree with throwing stars
	arming myself, protecting my family 
	drawing blood from those who trespass
	breaking limbs of those who hurt us
	(defense, defense, defense)
	
everything is a threat when hatred glosses my eyes
everything is dangerous when ptsd blinds me

i ain’t no panglossian pollyana believing that all is good
		 that all bad happens for a reason and so much good is on the way
			so very much good

but i am armed with a smile of hello
	arms to enfold you in comfort and warmth
		and the will to create a better future

maybe there is some pollyanna in me after all 


just maybe






This was written for LiveJournal Idol, Friends and Rivals mini-season. This week's ridiculously difficult topic had several ridiculously hard topics to choose from. After much thought and false starts and staring at blank page and blank screen my muse caved. The above is what you get. Barely making the deadline. *phew*
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
           trust everyone
         (but cut the cards)


i could walk through life with no trust
	second guessing every smile
			     every gift
			     every kind hello
i could walk through life finding fault in every raindrop
	or
	     i could believe in the goodness in your heart
						her smile
						his handshake
i could open my arms
			wide
		reaching for the humanity within
i could watch the sky for rainbows
		for the promise of the sun’s return

i choose to trust in your embrace
	in the words of love and friendship
i choose to smile at strangers as i walk the streets
		hoping to find reciprocity
		hoping that smiles breed smiles
			that kindness is paid forward
				that love wins

believe in goodness
	foster the tiny embers of that fire

join me in this holy quest 
	in this fostering of the souls that make humanity
	show our children that not everyone is to be feared
			that we have smiles to share
			that we are good


(but lock your doors at night)




eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)

			the gauntlet


I stand in mountain pose, eyes closed
			       arms to my sides
			       tailbone and neck aligned
			       breathing in peace and calm
			       breathing out stress and pain

i stand

i breathe

i am ready for the day
        ready to face the gauntlet

		ready

eyes slowly open
	(i am alive)
arms stretch up to reach the heavens
 	(i am alive)

step follows step, I begin to walk the corridor
		soldiers on each side
		armed with maces and words
step follows step, the maces bite and the words sting

i fear the words more
	i could run through avoid bodily damage with duck and cover techniques
	i could run through with wounds minor enough to heal
but a gauntlet of trained voices is impossible to avoid

i prepare with cotton in my ears
i prepare to run on through
i prepare my shields

and step follows step, once more unto the breach
i walk forward, their maces are held at the ready
but it is the words I hear, the words that bruise my heart
i gather my energy, my power, my beliefs
	i continue through this gauntlet
	i try to let the words bounce
    	i try to accept and dispute
	i try
	i try
		and i fail
panic at my fingertips 
my breath is faltering
i tremble

I stand in mountain pose, eyes closed
			       arms to my sides
			       tailbone and neck aligned
			       breathing in peace and calm
			       breathing out stress and pain

i pass through the gauntlet

i am alive

i am well.


See and hear me read it here:


PLEASE VOTE HERE: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/809247.html
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)

                                         the Copernican Principle

you couldn’t pay me to be in middle school again
that time when every awkward moment   
                        every lisped word
     was the center of surgical precision and ridicule
     when the mean girls didn’t like me
     but neither did my friends
             and that was the one that bit

so young
                i was a fixed point
                        with satellite planets mocking my every thing
                the sun and moon unable to break their orbits to save me

      the sun rises and sets
               a spotlight
      the moon whispers words of comfort
               as she fades
                              (night by night)

i struggle through math
                   attempting to ignore “bitch” written on my books
                        whispered repeatedly so teachers’ couldn’t hear
                        whispered to worm its way
                                                                      to my molten
                                                                            core

i wish i knew then 
          that the sun and planets do not revolve around the earth
                                                                          around me
                         that aristotle was wrong

copernicus came in and corrected him
we are heliocentric
          the earth’s gravitational pull
                     is not mine to play with
                     is not mine to understand
          but i still try
                     as i rotate and orbit around the sun

the other planets
	(in their own fixed orbits)
                             are not my concern

those girls are no longer near me
	and their hurt is finally fading
i’ve put myself back together
            since those long ago 8th grade days
i’ve fixed my lisp with a tongue piercing
       and i’m surrounded by friends that care

i am no longer aristotle’s earth

     i am the sun


or watch me read it here:
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
                            suicide triptych
                                   1
                               absolution

forgive me
	please,   forgive me
		   for trying to die
		   for swallowing my fear in the shape of trazadone bottles

forgive me
	for trying to replace my blood
	with alcohol spirits
	trying to numb
	          to hide
	          to die

because it can be so fucking hard
		       to hate myself
		       to look at my scars
	criss 
			cross
		applesauce
				life lines
	each scar a release
	where tears could not reach

this is why i am so afraid to feel

because
	    because
       emotions 
 		led me here
	to a place of death
				and
				        blood
		     of scars that i can still touch

			(history of relief)

because
	in the dappled light of day
			         of life

	I          stand          alone
	
	ready
	to 
	fall

it is a fight that i always lose
it is a fight that i still rise for

forgive me.

	I.  Forgive. Me.

             I fight for life.



                            2
                          Andrew

tall, dark, and handsome he swam into the ocean
   belly full of medicine
		(powdered for maximum absorption)
	he swam out -- the horizon his last desire

arm over arm
	salt water spraying
	the pacific   r e a c h e d   out
	a      slap    in the face

his eyes open
      a dawning
	     that life is to be 
			        lived
			        (still)
he looks back
     hoping that the shore will not recede
     hoping that his strength
		       will remain unhampered 
		       by the medicine streaming through his veins



early morning
	fingers of sunlight touch the beach
	fishing pole in hand a stranger becomes a fisher of men
							         of man

	a life saved
	
	breath continues

the ocean cannot claim you


                               3
                            CalTrain

two girls stand on the verge of womanhood
		      the edge of the platform
		(too much make-up
		 too much skin
		 so much youth
			    potential
			they are beautiful)
they hang handmade signs with duct tape
	smiling faces of the dead
	     bright and shiny words
	     a heart near his name

this is where they died
	the friends of the living teens i see now
	these signs merely a memory
			        a ghost smile
		held so tenuously together with duct tape and tears

tomorrow there will be flowers
			  a stuffed giraffe
		two more girls cross legged while the trains whistle by
				two more oceans of saltwater innocence lost
		i add my tears to this altar
		in memory of children that i never knew

	forgive me.
		i tried.
	 	     i forgive you.



or watch me read it here:



VOTE HERE: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/803824.html
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
                                                        Overwatch

                                                         bombs fall
                                                         bullets fly 
i watch from the sidelines
protect and serve
protect my friends
            my countrymen
            my brothers-in-arms
protect them with my eye on the enemy
                     with my sight surrounding them
                                           ready to respond

 

                                                                                       that’s what i do

i don’t claim the glory    
i don’t want to
       	i want to get out of this uniform
	i want to get out
			   of this war

and i have to admit that i’m using as this as metaphor
	i don’t know the first thing about war
		about snipers or planning
	i only know tv
	
	i only know that i care
		that i look out for others
			watching their backs as they walk into the world
				bumbling or standing tall
			i am there to as safety
					     as backup
				just a phone call away
			a voice of safety to strangers

	and i watch my son play in the sand
			run up stairs and fly down slides
		i watch
		i protect from the sidelines
			praying that i never have to intercede
			remembering the times i’ve failed
				holding back my helicopter tendencies
			the playground is not a war

This was written for LJ Idol Season 9, Week 25. Read other entries here: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/793590.html

See and hear me read it here:
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)

		the fiction of the fix


we like to believe in answers
	                 in absolutes
                          
we like to believe that life makes sense
and that everything has a cure

doctors are no more than medicine men
dressed in white coats
suit and tie or scrubs
we expect answers
as they whirl around us 
sterile amulets draped about them

my body felt torn and old
simply walking and breathing hurt
sleep was agony

and i went to find answers
my body demanded something
my mind crumpled under the pressure

I begged for a fix
         a cure

but there was nothing that they could do
no proven answers
no proven name
just a vague diagnosis, a syndrome
(fibromyalgia)

i saw multiple doctors
different names, different credentials
i tried different drugs
but the cure i sought
                 (the cure i seek)
is fictional

the salve to cure my screaming joints
     my aching muscles
the exercise to quiet my body and mind
so that sleep is heavy and deep
the fix is only fiction
           is only a dream

i walk with fire in my body
i will smile in defiance of my ailments

at least in my mind	
			i will stand strong 
until fiction becomes reality


	


See and hear me read here:



Fibromyalgia is no joke, yo. It sucks tacks. Not mentioned in the poem is that consistent yoga helps me. As well as hot baths, hot tub, and hot showers. 1-2 weeks of a flexeril three times a day might be helping me go into something like remission, but the jury is still out on the cause of my recent remissions. It's also really hard to accept some of the limitations that come with chronic pain. For instance, I don't typically have time to shower before I go downstairs to get the kidlet ready for school; I finally got a cane to help me not involuntarily wince for every one of the 17 steps. It helps, but I surely don't want to think of myself as needing a cane... Gah. The fix becoming reality would be really, really nice.


If you like what you see here go vote: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/787328.html
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)

			self-defense


i’ve always meant to learn karate or tae kwon do, 
		arm myself with self-defense

block with the arm, sweep with the leg

i’ve always meant to learn to fight back
			to not be weak
			    not be a victim

		to be strong

but i’ve met obstacles
	had voices, loud and clear
	shout at me that i am no good
	shout at me that i am weak
	remind me that i am vulnerable

and every hit to my ego
	every scare
		or dangerous situation
	reminds me that i never took the time
		that i never found the strength
		to take that class in martial arts
				     in self-defense
learned to block any blows that may come my way
	to block any words that strike like fists and knives
learned to take an attacker down with a sweep of the leg
	to sweep the footing out from self-doubt

i never learned to fight and win
	perhaps the time has come
	to block with the arm, sweep with the leg

		declare myself victorious
		         safe and sound




This was written for LiveJournal Idol season 9, Week 22. Please read the rest of the entries (or some, at least) and vote for your favorites here: LINK TO BE ADDED.

You can see and hear me read this poem here:
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
It's not mandatory, but if you have a moment you could listen to the song I reference in the following poem. ani difranco's in or out.






			spots and stripes

i was 15 years old, maybe 16
camping for the weekend at Clearwater’s Great Hudson River Revival
	volunteering, freedom to play grown-up, meet new friends,
	and hear new music

we wandered the different stages, secure in our volunteer tee shirts
hearing Pete Seeger tell stories, Sweet Honey in the Rock sing their songs

and then i heard a new voice
	Shira read her blurb and suggested the Ani Difranco set

			we went

we sat on the grass and watched a woman, young, but older than us
play guitar and sing folk music that was more rock
		folk music that centered on her life 
						her politics
	and it made sense

she sang in or out
	while the audience sat and wiggled in dance
		hippie girls twirling in the aisles
“i guess there’s something wrong with me, i guess i don’t fit in”
	the words spoke to me
	i leaned in, listened closer
		watching this woman command a stage
	
“some days the line i walk turns out to be straight,
	other days the line tends to deviate”

and something began to grow
	a realization slowly building
	
i bought the cassette tape
	my yellow walkman constantly playing
	ani’s words digesting in my brain

the next year Shira said that she wanted to kiss me
and i was scared, a girl… i declined
	but thought it through
considered bisexuality
	accepted that it existed
		    that women could be attractive
	we danced to in or out 
	singing along, all the words flowing with my blood
				this song
					    a part of me

years later,
	volunteering and camping again
Shira and i kissed
	i think the music made me do it
		that post college kiss started as teens

	and it was lovely






ani difranco influenced my life, my sexuality, and my poetry. thank you, ani, for showing so many of us the way through the dark.


and VOTING time has come upon us... if you like this go vote for me. And go read the work of others! http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/780955.html?view=76296091#t76296091
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
		Rapture of the Deep

it starts like every other dive
check the equipment
	air tanks
	air valves
	secondary equipment
			(may i never need to save you)

and then we start
waist deep in the ocean we struggle to put on our fins
(watching the youngsters do it with ease
	-- dear goddess when did we get so old)

then the fun begins
we drop down
	weighted in our suits
		we kill the buoyancy
	we drop 
	slowly
	deeper into the ocean

the fish are amazing
	even in the murky cold of Monterey
  	i think i saw a jellyfish
	i know i saw starfish and urchins

i’m losing you through the haze
	through the murk
	through the darkness

and i go deeper
	and deeper
		and deeper

oh the beauty of this underwater landscape
	where did you go?	
		you were right here
 	(you never dive alone)
	ahhhh, the fishies, so wonderful to watch
		i see one, two, a hundred and three
	but i don’t see you

and maybe that’s okay
	i’m fine without a dive buddy today
		you’ll be okay
		i’m wonderful

the murky landscape becomes so much more clear
	pinpointed and calm
	the fish dart about
	like i’m watching them through a tube of color

ahhhhhhhhhh
	so relaxing
		so enticing
			so . . .
				beautiful
				(i’m sorry, sometimes words fail)

but maybe i shouldn’t be alone down here
	a warning clicks in my head
	maybe i shouldn’t feel so light and heady 
		50 feet under the ocean
	maybe
	maybe 
	maybe

and here you are
	signing into my mask that time is up
		and it is time to go up

slowly
slowly
slowly

i realize the danger of this beauty
	that the rapture of the deep
	can kill
	and heaven may have been closer than i know



This was written for Intersection Week; My partner is [livejournal.com profile] kehlen_crow. Her prose about Intersubjectivity and drowning and live theatre can be found at http://kehlen-crow.livejournal.com/943025.html?mode=reply#add_comment. The intermingle of our work is gently, but there and clear as day when you see it.

You can see and hear me read mine (recorded when I was outside of starbucks... so there is extraneous noise) at
.

Have a lovely.
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)

		it takes two



i remember long ago
	so many years past
	in another lifetime
     we laid together
	spilling secrets
		into the night
    tears dripped from your chin
		and mine
	my heart broke
			over and over again
because i cheated on you
	i slept with another
    and felt that you deserved to know the truth
				my indiscretion 

you cried
	and yelled
		and felt betrayed
	each of your movements
		a pinprick in my heart
			by the end
			you could see the darkness pouring through 
				like daylight through a window

weeks passed and we built towards forgiveness
	but you held this over me
	this big black mark against us
	and how it was my fault

	through my guilt i accepted the role
			      assumed the role of villain
			let you play the victim
			let this inequality continue to create pinpricks
		and we soldiered on
			finding a new safety in this place
				a new comfort

	(but the truth is 
			i never felt comfortable 
                                           or safe
i just played the part
		improvisation off your mercurial nature)

until one day
	in the mountains of colorado
	you let slip a secret
		an untruth you’d told long enough
					that you nearly believed it to be true

	your fidelity
	was a lie

gallons of tears
	hours of fighting
		innumerable moments of misery
and you
      cheated
      too

while i was honest
	bathing in my guilt
	in the guilt you heaped upon me
you simply bit your lip
	and chose disinformation
		pointing towards me
		all the while you were pointing in a mirror

	i     was    never    your    mirror.



-----------------
This was written for LJ IDOL 9 Week 18 Topic: Disinformation

This was not an easy one to get ahold of, but I did it. On time even.

Hear and see me read it here:


Come back and vote later.
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)

				together


“suicide”
	i can hear you say it
	voice a harsh whisper
		i can even hear the quote marks placed around the word
			as if punctuation can save you
					or change the recent past


			it
		       cannot 

oh, god, and i’ve been there
	the word a whisper in my head
	over and over again
oh, god, and i’ve been there
	the word shouted
		    sudden in my head
	“suicide” demanded by someone other than myself
				by someone that lives in my head and lies
	
		and lies
		and lies
		and lies
		and lies

“suicide” i can feel you looking at me
	i am a woman marked 
			the sword of damocles on my wrists
						         my heart
	i am a woman marked by the truth
				   by the past
		a woman marked by poets i love
				and a tendency towards darkness and death

today i do not want to die

i want to live my life with a clear mind
		live my life with clear intent
			live my life

but it is never that easy
	  never so clear cut
	
there is a battle to be won
		a battle waged with chemicals and pills
		a battle waged in propaganda 
			posters covering my eyes

and sometimes we, as a whole, forget
	forget that depression is an illness that lurks and hides
						that hides behind smiles
								      and laughter
   								      and jokes
		that talent and money can’t save us

but i can
      you can
	caring hearts can

take away the scare quotes when you say the word
suicide
suicide
suicide

get used to the feel of the word on your tongue

and speak its name when it comes
	speak its name
	and drop the sword
       with great power comes great responsibility
hug your friends
hug your family
hug strangers that need to be touched and reminded

together
		together we can put away the knives
					close the ovens
					wind the rope back up
together we can live



Hear and see me read here:



If you or someone you know is in danger, is believing the lies of depression, please call 1-800-SUICIDE anywhere in the continental US. Life sometimes sucks, but has so much more to offer.

--
This was written for week 17 of LJ IDOL SEASON 9. The topic was "Scare Quotes."

If you like what you read/hear/see please go vote for me. :-) http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/769027.html
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
		stand strong
			for Morgan


happy birthday little one
you’re two years old and counting
it’s so wonderful to watch  you grow
	learning words and sound and 
				life

happy birthday little one
learn your shrieks and hone your “no’s”
let no one silence you in time

practice yes
and gentle touch
collect the chicken eggs and bark with the dog
create worlds from books and imagination
	and live amongst the pirates or princesses 
						or both

learn to count and write down words
and practice your own mind

at two, most of us are willful
		stay that way
sometimes your parent saying, “we had a day”
			and falling into bed
	means that you are practicing for the world at large
		for the future that awaits you

let anyone who may get in your way know that
		once upon a late july
			a terrible beauty was born and unleashed upon us all

the terrible beauty of a child growing into herself
	learning that she is strong
			and smart
			and beautiful

stand strong, little one,
			stand strong

because sometimes terrible is just another word for amazing




This was written for LJ Idol Season 9, Week 16. The topic is: A terrible beauty has been born. For once the topic is not reflected in my title. Heck, it's not even exactly quoted, but it is there. Let your daughters grow into wild women. Fluent in STEM topics and beauty. Let them shriek (though, preferably outdoors, gaggles of 4 year old girls could be detrimental to your hearing...). Let the word NO mean something. Let them know and wield the power of yes and no when it comes to their bodies and desires in the world. Even at two.

Please.

---
Video here:


VOTE HERE: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/766648.html
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
Wonder of wonders, would you believe
words forsake me, they just leave

this could be my final bye
words are slow and make sure my tongue is tied

i want to write an awesome poem
but here i sit, alone

the emotions are just too big
sometimes depression is too hard a hole to dig

like the time i ran out of tears
the just left me there, feeding on my fears

so if this poem is made in time,
please forgive my attempt at rhyme

there is no fun, no barrel of monkeys to enjoy
more like fish in a barrel to shoot as if guns were toys

handed out like candy from strangers
sometimes it is so easy to get lost in a sea of dangers

my advice to you is my plan for me
enjoy life, break your shackles free

Written for http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/748526.html?view=74407406#t74407406

Community only vote here: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/750123.html
eeyore_grrl: (eye)
“The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.” —Maya Angelou - See more at: http://www.ikewrites.com/2013/04/04/straight-to-the-heart/#sthash.79oEB9wZ.dpuf
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
   

                         If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time


so much news
another mass shooting
this time in my state
by a man deemed a psycho

i watched his video, his pledge to kill
i heard him say that it was not fair
that he should not be a virgin while others had sex

i’ve heard others defend the generality of men
it’s isn’t all of us, all of them

and it’s not
it is not all men who might kill me
		   	might hurt me
but how can i tell which will

if you have come here to help me,
to tell me that it’s not all men
that are dangerous,
you are wasting your time

this is a fact that i am well aware of
but often the fact that permeates my being
is that some men are dangerous
           some will go on a shooting spree trying to kill all the beautiful women
  	while more might take me and hold me down, forcing me
	and some might try

if you’ve come here to tell me
that it’s because he had an illness
normal people don’t kill
i’ll tell you that you are wasting your time
because, i know this and you’re wrong

he has a diagnosis and a family
and neither of those are why he chose his path
i’ve a diagnosis, different, but real
and i have no intent to take others with me when i go
                no intent to hurt others

i have known people, students and friends
in similar situations
who did not, would not kill
do not vilify the diagnosis

and this man had a sense of entitlement that exceeds expectation
he spoke of how he deserved women and sex and care

and we all deserve care and love
but this was different
      he was full of anger and a belief that he was owed these things
		that he was owed these things by the women he saw

women are not yours for the taking
	not yours as objects

we have the right to say no
		and the right to say yes

we have the right to live in safety
		without fear that every man 
may be that one man

if you have come here to help me,
to correct me,
to tell me i’m wrong, or overreacting
you are wasting 
		    your time



-----------
Typically, I leave the public reactions to tragedies to those who write more eloquently, to those who write more quickly, to those who have a say in the matter at hand...

I do have a say as a member of society. So do you.

It's time to get some real gun legislation in the United States. And some better mental health care, but this time he did have access, so that's not today's fight...

May all of those affected by gun violence find some peace in their lives. I am sorry for your loss and your pain. You have my condolences. 

---------

This was written for LJ Idol Season 9, Week 10. http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/741490.html?view=73836402#t73836402

Voting will be updated here later. VOTE HERE: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/743480.html

Watch and hear me read here: 
eeyore_grrl: (carey purple streaks)
In Another Castle

there is a castle
where unicorns frolic and mate
there is always a rainbow overhead
and apparently SSRIs are flowing in the water
because the people are always ready with a genuine smile
and that just confuses me, but there it is, even the servants feel loved
the castle is etched in jewels
and the royalty is always kind, caring, and giving
if there were fair elections they would win by a landslide

meanwhile, in another castle, i’m the fucking queen
and i’m not entirely sure what that means

the unicorns won’t step foot near my lands
for fear of the constant crossfire
it’s us against we
and my castle shows the battle scars from this civil war

broadway musicals are belted from the crenellations
songs of misery and woe
it’s our battle cry

“At the end of the day you're another day colder
And the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill
And the righteous hurry past
They don't hear the little ones crying
And the plague is coming on fast, ready to kill
One day nearer to dying!”


the royalty and servants from the first castle look at us as a warning
a lesson to be learned about how not to be a fairy tale
how not to be happy
how not to be



*Song Lyrics from Les Miserables; At the End of the Day

_________
This was written for LiveJournal Idol 9, http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/720983.html.
Voting link will be updated here later. HERE IS THE VOTING LINK; I AM IN TRIBE 3. http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/722286.html

Hear and see me read it by simply clicking here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuAtaFK3kHk&feature=youtu.be

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