As if words might be too little for everything that this is and everything that you are. Easier to keep it all inside, cherished and nurtured. What it is though, this thing we are making, this phoenix rising, my head wants to give words to everything that’s in my heart and mending my soul. I sit with pen poised and lose myself in the thoughts. Thinking, thinking… kisses, such sweet kisses… like Aurora, I’m awakened, and the kiss is the first, of course it was the first, and also the now and my thoughts are spinning away. Pen forgotten, swept up in memories; I marvel at this, at how Life can in a heartbeat, give you back every cherished thing you thought wasn’t to be, couldn’t be… Puppy love, broken hearts, soul mates, lessons that needed learning, lessons yet to be learned. My self cracks open and the words all spill out, written on to your skin these cursive kisses and copperplate caresses… whispered in your ears and finally exhausted because there will never be enough to make up for those unspoken in that space in between.
Those words left over are limitless “I love you’s” and the rhyme is always your name and if I never wrote anything again except for these… I would be content with this body of work.
26 January 2017
For a year or two before I joined WordPress I wrote privately and on a couple Facebook poetry pages. One page – The Eclectic Poet – is still there, suffering the same neglect that WordPress does but once in a blue… the algorithms that be will cast up a “Your Memories On Facebook” post that isn’t just a photo but one of those long ago snapshots in words.
This piece is titled “Blue” and is one of my stream-of-thought or two-AM-thoughts style pieces. It was written on 17 October 2011 and never shared publicly. I rather like it.
Cut and paste from Facebook, this is “Blue”.
Everybody wants a piece but only on their terms
I feel so… stretched
Pulled thin and transparent
I have enough for everyone if they aren’t greedy
My heart needs… replenishing
Pumped out and labouring
Brown eyes like amber
Tell me all your heart’s secrets
Such treasures preserved
Mahogany, amber, teak, chocolate
Leather, chamois, silk, velvet
blood, wine, cigarettes, coffee
I can’t get you out of my head. Not normally a bad thing. Very, very frustrating today.
When I close my eyes I can see you. Worse. Sometimes I can feel you.
I can hardly stand to be in my own skin. It’s like I have a fever. On fire, shaking.
I want you here… You are what I need to replenish… Fill me up with you.
Such a tangled web we’ve woven
Your benign indifference leaves me frozen
Snap you fingers, demand my fire
This bed feels like a funeral pyre
If you don’t love me, leave me be
You can’t pick & choose the parts of me
17 October 2016
The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Excellent psychological suspense. Started off slowly – in a good way – culminated in a wild ride for the last third of the story. I could not put it down. I don’t know if this has been advertised as a book about Narcissist Predatory Disorder of the malignant variety but it is. I started picking up on some early clues and arrived at the end shaken but entertained and thinking this should be required reading for anyone who doesn’t know about or can’t believe just how insidious this behaviour can be. Can’t say more without spoilers. If you’ve been in the protagonist’s shoes – read it. If you don’t think NPD is a serious form of abuse – read it. If you like great a great scary book – read it. This book deserves all the kudos that it’s been receiving.
View all my reviews
I’m doing far more reading than writing now, making up for time stolen during “the lost years”. When I remember to, I’ll share from Goodreads. My taste for reading material is as eclectic as my choice of subject matter for writing; fair warning.
~ All of the communication skills ~
If you’re over the age of thirteen and still using “The Silent Treatment” as a method for conveying your thoughts and opinions…
The ONLY thing that you’re communicating is that you’re immature, cowardly and rude.
And. You’re a big fat meany-pants poopy butt head with a head for a butt! :p
16 September 2016
I’m one of the million. My shoes are out in solidarity with others who live with ME / CFS. Today is a global day of protest. Get involved here > Millions Missing <
I am one. My shoes are out.
It’s not you, it’s me… Again. Again, I’m so far behind that I think I’m first, and the only remedy that works for me is ‘delete all’ from the Inbox. I’m sorry to be missing your posts but I just can’t keep up anymore.
It’s spring, I’m a little manic panic and downsizing again for sanity and ADD/OCD’s sake. Some of you will notice that I’m no longer on Twitter or Google+ and I feel better already. Streamlining my social media to manageable and rewarding has been on my ‘to do’ list for a while – it’s simply too frantic-making for an Introvert like me, not to mention a chore with little return.
I’ll be around here, just letting you know about the other two sites. Have a wonderful week!
20 March 2016
Some of the thoughts that kept me up last night are the hardest for me to wrap my head around:
How is it possible to become invisible to a person who once loved you beyond reason?
Finally understanding that someone would rather hurt you than be polite and that a person who you thought knew you inside and out is able to switch himself off emotionally to the pain and suffering he is causing
That some people use shunning as a form of expression, telling themselves and others that they are the victim. They use silence to control the other person while denying they are the problem. They use passive aggressive punishment because of their own perceived demands by the other person
Being ignored causes a pain that the body perceives as physical – fact
I’d rather be hurt quick and clean with a truth than suffer the phantom limb of lost self-esteem and questions for a lifetime
The only thing ignoring a person conveys is that you are too immature / frightened / calloused to behave decently. How cold can one be to know that your victim is suffering but feel justified to do nothing about it and go on simply ignoring it?
The ‘Silent Treatment’ is a mind game and it is abusive
I find it hard to let go if I’ve been led to believe one thing, even if I’m being shown another. I will give someone the benefit of the doubt to my own detriment. I will continue to reach out, to treat them with some version of the former friendship or regard because that is what caring people do. The one trait that I value highly in myself is my empathy and I won’t allow another’s cruelty or rude behaviour stop me from being who I am. If my intentions are perceived as weakness or neediness I can only remind myself that it takes courage and strength to reach out despite my misgivings. Why? Because I know that perceptions can only be changed when people communicate
We’ve probably all done it or been subject to it. ‘The Silent Treatment’ is a schoolyard tactic and most of us know how quickly the shunned will fall in line. Why though, do adults choose to do this? I’m mystified that in this age that lauds communication, where people are constantly raging about lack of honesty in relationships and whingeing about decency in general; some people still fall back on acting like a bully to make a point or to get what they want.
29 February 2016
(I’m fine, just stringing together some old and recurring thoughts. K~xx)