Whose Fault Is It Anyway?

Whose Fault Is It Anyway?

I didn’t ask to like him
Wasn’t in my plan
Life was moving splendidly
Without a distracting man

Sure, I was open-minded
To something beautiful unfolding
Respectful of each one’s agency
And all in the Lord’s timing

This new thing was going well, I felt
Loving every interaction
Certainly the feelings were mutual
And I know there was attraction

Green flags left and right
Told me to keep on going
What a lovely surprise it was
But never really knowing
If this was real
Or, rather, would keep on growing

Staying present was my best defense
But defense is not the word
Because in all of these matters
Of timing and agency
Self-protection must balance with risk

So onward I went---
Then suddenly it fizzed out
Somehow my feelings preceded logic
But surety followed doubt

Whatever happened,
I may always wonder
Twas a lovely chapter in my life
Until it went asunder

Wonder turned to disappointment
Which in turn became anger
What was the point of feeling that hope
If we were only to become strangers?

Funny thing is,
I’m not sure who I’m mad at—
Was it my fault? Maybe his?
Blame it on God; He knows what's what

I didn't ask to like him
Wasn't in my plan
Life was moving splendidly
Without a distracting man

But life goes on
As it always does
These chapters are interesting
And self-synonymous

Another will come along
Gives me substance for a poem
So whose fault is it, anyway?
The question's answer stays anonymous

12.19.10

Today My Journal Entry Is a Poem—
Under Shade

Numb
Non-tingling sneeze
Pressed under blanket-like pile
Coming up my throat
needs a break-through
Breathe

Contentious
Shaky legs
Wobbling
Sickly churning stomach
And eyebrows woven together
With a stamp between my eyes
Breathe

Anxious
Constricted belly
Mouth open
Forced yawn
Chest lifted
Gasping, sucking in air
Quiet urgency that I can maintain but
I can’t breathe

Resistance
Got a massage
Felt wonderful on the table
Soon as I got off,
couldn’t tell a difference
I’m a piece of work
and my work
is to do this for others
Breathe

Shame
Public and private selves
aren’t really talking
No one keeps track
but I know
Almost every bite
I feel I shouldn’t
Like my body in massage,
my mouth is happy
only while I’m feeding it
but my stomach is full
This is the gross blanket
I pile on myself
Breathe

Unworthy
He’s beautiful
and just taught English
in Thailand for a year
Loves to laugh and exercise
and wants me to be myself
(We’ve never met)
He represents what I want
and feel so far removed from
Breathe

God and Me
Having good intentions
Doing the right things
Going through the motions
What do You think of me?
“Bringing in the nutrients”
but “assimilation” is poor
I’m not getting much out of this
Breathe

9.1.10

To My Shadow

To My Shadow

Several times a day
people ask me how I am doing
To which I reply
authentically

I’m living the human experience
Interested in life
Practicing gratitude
Fighting the fight
Battling the demons
(we are evenly matched)

I’m aware of the Shadow

Peter Pan tried to catch his
So elusive
Fleeting
Transient and
Tricky

IPSB showed me mine
in my dreams
storytelling
myth and art

Through my body
my Shadow speaks to me
So elusive
Fleeting
Transient
and Tricky

How do I sing a Shadow?
I can dance it
Can I hold you?
Would you let me?

The Shadow is the
Other Side of All Things

Those parts of me
I wish not to own
Doing those things
I wish not to do

That which is never satisfied
And wants to destroy

Do I credit my Shadow
with too much?
Or need to give you more tribute?
You demand respect
And find a way
To make your voice heard

[It seems like
I’ve written this before]

My poetry is easy
Words on a page
are simple to put down
but the feeling,
the presence
that got me here
is what I try to capture
or tap into
because I know it’s there
somewhere
and in the complexities
of my mind
I take detours and
complicate matters
until I’m thoroughly frustrated
and blocked

My poetry is easy
Flowing and raw,
unprocessed—
organic, you could say
no filters here
but they are just words
that I birth
with smooth labor
And if it’s easy,
am I really feeling it?
Really processing?

I want to move through
Go deep
Transform
Can words take me there?
Words are the first part of the picture
and must include also,
ironically,
a picture
music,
movement

I wrote in Metapoem
that I hear my heart
I paint my mind
I mold my soul
I dance on a page
with the words that build my poems

Words, you have been
faithful friends
and for this,
I thank you

As dear friends sometimes must part
I feel that we
must separate
to embark on another journey
in a different realm

And ah, my Shadow
I will make Thee a Friend

Chocolate is chocolate
Because there’s a vanilla
And even more so because
There’s a strawberry

The Shadow
wouldn’t exist
without the sun
But at sun’s peak
there is no shadow
The sun runs its course
like seasons and
even when clouds
obscure the view,
the sun is always there

The Shadow
wouldn’t exist
without the sun
But at sun’s peak
there is no shadow
The sun runs its course
like seasons and
even when clouds
obscure the view,
the sun is always there

8.26.2010

Jetlag

Jetlag

My body tells me it’s 4 p.m. tomorrow, and somehow I lived Monday twice
I watched a record five and a quarter inspiring movies—
a befitting way to end the peace conference zeitgeist
One long LA layover lunch with a friend
Then rushed off to class for the night
My body tells me it’s 4 p.m. tomorrow, and somehow I lived Monday twice

Connection

Connection

I.
On paper you make sense
We like the same things, both
get excited and passionate about life,
learning and service
We explore and adventure the world,
talk for hours about everything
have similar circles of friends
and in my head, we go together
Are you what I need?

II.
Pleasing to the eye,
your face is beautiful
Like Mayer said, "Your body is a wonderland"
I'm drawn to you
and fear you too
My eyes don't know how to trust
the mirror

III.
Deep as the ocean
Wide as the Nile
Burning like lava
Cold as floor tile
Through the varied seasons of my heart
you know how to reach me,
nearly complete me
Your goodness and honesty
inspire and move me
But my heart is walled off
and I hold back
waiting to see if we
connect on all levels

IV.
What is soul? Where is mine,
where is yours?
Together we meet sometime,
somewhere on our journeys
Timing and agency are key

The walls melt down
This feels right
My mind likes you
I like you with my eyes
My heart likes you
My soul likes you too
So this is connection of mind, body and heart
growing for eternity
Is this for real?

2.18.10

A Night of Poetry and Guitar Invite

A Night of Poetry and Guitar Invite

You don’t have to rhyme
You don’t have to be funny
You needn’t be deep
or even give money

Just enjoy good company
And if you can, well, then
give a little something
to help a sibling in Haiti

Leave better than you came—it’s a noble goal

Whether you share your own works or those of a beloved griot
from 7:30 to 10 we'll be jammin' so congruously
that you’ll want to sneak in when you can—albeit inconspicuously

Whaddya say? This night of poetry and guitar is prob’ly your first;
Don’t make it your last since the muse inside is itching to burst

(If you think this is corny
Realize that it's late at night
I've had fun in my writing
and Pandora radio listening)

1.26.10