i do so rock

i would like to report
that thirty some years later
& into
a new century
new generations
& old
are appreciating my taste
in music.

this was just a thought i had. i made a playlist of like 700 songs using spotify & i play my music at the free store, at art club meetings, and anywhere else i can play it.
i love it that people have started complimenting my playlist. i am sure my enthusiasm stems from years of boyfriends & husbands complaining about my taste in music.
so to them i say, “suck it–i do so rock.”

not of this world

i think maybe i am waiting
longing
for someone who is not
of this realm
i think maybe
i am not the only one
who feels
this way
songs full of other world
energy
art on a canvas
showing us
an understanding
not of this world
but an impossible other
stories that explore worlds
we can only see
in our hearts…
i can only hope
that the someone whom my heart
calls to
somehow finds his way
to share
not just an emotional sphere
with me
but a physical one
as well.

i’m getting tired of my own posts about relationships. i wrote this like a week ago? and since then i have downward spiraled to a place where i am “fuck everyone i’m going to dig a hole & never come out.”
so relationships are not a top priority for me at this moment in time as i try to dig myself back out of the grave i have put myself in to.
and i’m kind of annoyed with me.
but! i do remember that i wrote this post after crying while reading the wishing of biddy malone to my kids. a story about an irish lass who falls in love with a fairy.

i do really like the creepy baby hand angel though.

spectacular

i can’t do mundane
it must be
spectacular
if i can’t have
spectacular
i will have
nothing
i will be alone
i’m too old
it’s too late
to settle for less than
amazing.

more thoughts on relationships. i spent all those years when i was young & the world was my oyster not being discriminating at all in my dating habits.
now i’m older with much fewer options for companionship, and all of a sudden i have developed standards? that sounds about right.

carousel

i’m a fucking carousel
of emotion
watch me spin
…rather slowly at times
& to creepy music
of course
angry now
depressed now
hopeless & self-destructive
calm & grounded
elated now
full of love
turn a little more
here comes your abandonment issues!
and
oh
we are back around to the anger
…what makes the carousel turn
where is the plug?
is it safe to stop it
or
like a roulette wheel
will it stop on double 0
& everyone
loses?

another take on my spinning which is really clear if you sit & read through my journal pages all at once. i looked through about two years worth & got pretty dizzy.

valentine’s day

i’m fifty
& still looking
to this day
as if i were fifteen
a sad charlie brown
hoping that this year
surely
this year
i will be noticed
cherished
celebrated
surely this year.

i’m not going to elaborate on this post because it’s just too sad.

best & worst

1995
lexington kentucky
flying balsa wood planes
in the park
with the man
i was engaged to
the man
i was going to spend the rest of my life
with
1996
austin texas
getting an expensive long-coveted gift
of white wing tip doc martins
from the man
who was about to leave me
as i had left him
already
for someone else
…funny thing
that is the last valentine’s day
i can remember
i remember the best
& i remember the worst that followed it
…nothing
more.

guess what i was doing for valentines? i wasn’t crying all day, i promise. i did try & try to remember any other valentine’s day. i dated someone for two years after this relationship mentioned here. then i married someone & spent several valentine’s days with him. then i married someone else & spent more than a decade of valentine’s days with him.
jesus.
in my defense, none of the guys who followed the best & the worst valentine of mine, none of those guys were very good at being sweet to me.
the last guy to be sweet to me gave me a pair of white doc martin wing tips & then broke my heart.
no matter how many valentines i make & give to people, i cannot quite heal that wound.

uncross my heart

i remove the conflict
i uncross
my heart
i life my arms
into the air
waiting
for that inevitable
embrace
that never comes
& the sun
sets
the moon moves
across the sky
in her dance with the
stars
& all i can feel is
lost.

i wrote this page in response to my tarot cards that keep having the idea of relationships & men as a conflict to who i am. i thought i could remove the conflict…but i could not.
so!
i am calling off the hunt. fuck it. i’m okay alone. right?
i am so totally okay alone.
i have so much crap to sort out. i mean, am i even over my exes? why can thoughts of them still break my heart? do i really need to pile anything on to that crap pile?
also. who do i even want in my life? when i imagine someone to grow old(er) with, who is it i really want? why does that change from day to day, moment to moment?
and should i even be trusted to pick someone? or let someone pick me? i do not have a good track record.
so maybe i am not ready. maybe it’s all a pipe dream.

i can always fall in love in my next life.

(funny story. while i was inking this, iggy came in to tell on poppy for flipping him the bird…looked at my inking & was like, “nice, mom!”)

trash

i am brilliant trash
a plastic bag
dancing in the wind
a piece of tinsel
stuck in a tree branch
i am fantastic
majestic
trash
a paper boat
launched into a storm drain
lint woven into a bird’s nest
i am amazing
trash
living in fear
of being thrown away
of not being recognized
for my amazing
potential.

yup. another true story.
i cannot remember what inspired this page. i’m sure others have touched on this theme. it seems like a common one to folks like me. the broken & damaged with our dazzling souls just longing to be noticed.
sigh.
someday….

circles

going in circles…
am i
a flushed tank of
toilet water
swirling
am i
a tornado
tall as a mountain
& filled with rage
& frustration
am i
a quiet dust devil
on a summer evening
appearing
as if by magic
& disappearing again
into the dusk?

that’s the question.
though i am probably all three of those things. it just depends on when you catch me.
but reading through journals trying to find fodder for my the invisible exhibitionist book version, i notice that i am definitely not a linear person. yup, i’m the moon…though i guess the moon doesn’t really turn? but it does go circles around the earth, so, yeah! i’m the moon.
moody moody moon.

just knock

i need my walls
i need a safe space
to retreat to
when i need
to retreat
&
i’m not one of those people
who’s door is always
open
i do totally shut
my door
but if you knock
i will probably
let you in.

true story.
i tried to take those walls down & bad things happen. like when you remove a weight bearing wall in your house thinking it will open things up & all of a sudden your roof has fallen in?
like that.
so i’m keeping my walls, but, hey, knock & i might let you in.

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