Tag Archives: wrote

The Poem I Wrote Today #5

A woman told me today I would be ok,
I met her just now,
She said it like she cared,
I believed her
I put my arm in front of my chest
I held her off.
Because it couldn’t be.
A stranger, this woman, couldn’t care more than blood.
None of my own
See me like this woman here
Who isn’t paid to like me
But cared because she could.
And I wasn’t quiet,
I was myself
For the woman I met today
Who told me I could be ok.
And she asked me same time next week?
From behind the appointment desk.

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10 Poems in 20 Minutes (1-24)

I tried to write a poem today, but couldn’t get started. So instead I gave myself a time limit. I’m not sure if it was worth it.

I Wrote 10 Poems in 20 Minutes
Day: January 24th

Poem 1:
They must not realize
They can’t.
Everyday an insult
A slight
Something that hurts somewhere.
I can get used it.
I don’t have a choice.

Poem 2:
I took down the Christmas decorations
Because I was told.
If you tell me,
I’ll do it.
But it will have no heart.
Only the work there.
All the work I do,
I tell myself to,
So there’s holiday missing somewhere else.

Poem 3:
He told me I was cute.
I don’t want to be,
I want beauty.
I settle
For this thing you give me
You give me the want
To put on makeup.
I want to change me for you.

Poem 4:
Only for winter
In my tired brain
It says:
Never leave here please
Stay where it’s warm
You don’t have to go
It’s all here
I can protect you here
It can’t go wrong.
But I have to get up to eat.

Poem 5:
Eating Thai
He says I like flied lice.
I look at his wife.
She says, it’s just silliness,
With her shoulders.
I stare at her.
She tells me to calm down
With a tug at a frown.
I eat my meal paid by her
And hate myself for not saying.

Poem 6:
If and when
I call you on the phone
Don’t give me advice
When I complain.
Just listen, please.
I know the things you say
Are right
True and proper.
But I don’t care.
I want to complain.
Listen to me whine.
Don’t make it better,
Don’t try.
Let me cry please
Without making it wrong.
By saying you shouldn’t
By improving me.

Poem 7:
My experience should mean little
To who I am.
My worth, I mean.
I may have lived under a great big house.
But you do not tease me for things I have not done.
You cannot know me,
Or find out why I did not do
What you seem fit to push me for.
You do not joke about my value that way.
Do not call me a child, baby, little girl,
Protected.
For you do not know, I haven’t told you,
And now never will.

Poem 8:
I want.
For sure I want.
Wanted hasn’t happened here with envy in so long.
Sit with me when I’m sick.
Please.
I feel bad alone.

Poem 9:
I didn’t do what I should have done
In your eyes.
I don’t know if I could see through your vision.
You don’t try to understand anyone:
Your way is best.
They should all see it my way.
It’s simple, and direct,
Don’t have to think about all that they seem to be saying.

Poem 10:
He said,
Thank you.
I said, no problem.
I hate you in my heart.
But I’m polite.
Never confuse kindness with polite.
One is curtsey
One doesn’t exist without motive.

The Depression in the Family

I went for blunt. The subversive, walk around it, can’t hurt her feelings, not sure I should say this, didn’t work last time. So I sent her a text. It read, “Mom says your depressed?” This time around, I wasn’t going to spare her feelings of inadequacy. We were going to talk about it. Because it has to be better this way. She has to know I can listen, because I know what’s going on. I’m gong to make normalcy out of the situation. It’ll be more comfortable for her, and she’ll talk more. That time a couple years ago, she wouldn’t talk to us about it. Now she has to. Because I asked her. I asked her directly.

gif saying i think we should talk about this

but i’m not sure how

She sent a text back. “Lol, that’s correct.” She sent the text back within the minute.
I had to make sure she wasn’t as bad as last time. I tried to remember what it felt like in that dark. Because I thought it would connect us. “Oh that sucks. How bad on a scale of bell jar to rocks in pockets?”
I got a text back two minutes later. “Um it’s in waves from mild inertia to contemplating ovens with new found interest.”
“No deep black holes of doom?” I tried to keep it lighthearted. I worried that if it became too serous she’d shut down on me.

gif of a black hole of depression

it’ll eat you, careful

“A bit.” I thought she’d run with my joke. I thought she’d talk about being a spaceship drifting or make an Apollo 13 or David Bowie joke. But she’d said, “a bit.” I wanted to scream and call her right then. I told myself to be calm and stay light.
“Goodness how dreadful. I’m so sorry. Anything helping?” I didn’t know how to help. It was too late to ask her if there was someway I could do anything when you’re spiraling down.
“I’m eating chocolate pecan pie from our local neighborhood bakery.”

gif of a piece of pie

a piece makes all the difference

So she was ok. She knew what was wrong. She took steps to prevent and cope. When she got here for Christmas, I could see for myself. She can hide behind texts, but not my eyes. We’ll make sure she’s better then.

Another One Told Me This

Don’t tell me to think I’m beautiful,
Like it’s a gift,
Like I should,
Because you’re the first to say it, you think.
My strength comes from me.
Don’t lecture me about how pretty I am.
I’m not very pretty.
It’s fine.
It doesn’t bother me anymore.
It just is.
You can say all women are beautiful.
But it’s a line you think you should say.
You don’t know me well enough to say I’m beautiful.
You think all women should think they’re beautiful.
Like all people should have confidence.
And that you’re God’s gift because you can tell this girl
This one right here
How pretty she is.
And that will make it all better
You can fix her sadness if she knows she’s pretty.

How Great You Were

It used to be you
That no matter who I talked to
I was talking to you.
But not anymore
I almost wish I was back there.
Where I thought you the greatest,
But I’m glad not to wear the acolyte robes
For the great priestess anymore.
I can see your loose seams now,
And I can speak to everyone I want.

A Thought on My Parents

If I have children who meet my parents, they’ll never know them as I knew them. Those people are gone. They’ll not recognize the soft, cuddly, chubby Mom I grew up with, who wore few bras and had short curled hair. They won’t know my father with these strange eye magnifying glasses. He hasn’t said it yet, but I’m waiting. I wait for the phrase, “I’d like to be able to play with my grandchildren.” They won’t know them without the pains in their knees and backs. They won’t know them without those added years of I-could-have-done piling on guilt from time. They’ll only know the wrinkles, never to see how beautiful my Mom could be. And then they’ll die while my kids are in college, and my kids will care. But not really, they never really knew them before their minds went. Never had the chance. The kids were too young. They had me too late. It’s too late to know them.

That might not be bad after all. Maybe I can dull all they the messups they did to me through a filter for the next ones down. If they never meet the originals, they can’t spread the fire of self-hate they gave to their children. If I can’t see them, I won’t be them. I have a chance to be better for me and mine.

A Little Story for Black Friday

I wrote a little story just now. I thought, maybe, I’d share it.

Duke came from a very fancy family. But he felt bad. He didn’t mean to get born into a such a world as this. He would rather sit in his corner and dig a hole where no one can find him. He tried to be quiet and small. No one could ever see him. He could melt into the furniture without a sound. He felt bad he wasn’t as tall as his brother. It made him feel upset someone only got one thing on their birthday. His mom told him, “be thankful.” He tried. He didn’t think he could be more full of thanks. Mom says, “you’re so lucky, when I was little we had to share boxes of chocolates.” Duke didn’t understand; his brother took his box of chocolates. Duke felt bad his shoes fit well, and he got new ones when they got holes in the bottom. He didn’t deserve it. Duke felt bad no one talked to him because his dad was important. Duke huddled in his coat so no one saw him feel bad. He didn’t want anyone else to feel bad for his feel-badding.