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 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)
		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

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