When I was little
I played by a pond
The most beautiful pond I could know.
I played princess and traveler,
Made stories of love,
The fantasies oh so real.
When I was little,
I thought a kiss was the end,
The story need not go any further.
I thought it was to meet,
To fall, to love, to kiss.
The end, no more
When I grew older,
I kept my hopes,
Thinking a kiss could solve it all.
I dreamt and I waited,
Knowing it had to be so.
Just a kiss and that's all I would need.
When I grew older,
I found out the truth.
A kiss is not the fix.
I opened my eyes,
Took a good look around.
And realized there is so much more than a kiss.
But when I was little,
I played by a pond.
The most beautiful pond I could know.
I returned to that pond,
Looked around it once more,
And realized it was all just a dream.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Untitled Poem and The Poet follow up
The poet knelt in the sand,
Her eyes on the grains as they slipped away.
And she knew, feeling the softness contrast
The coarseness she knew could be,
That her fears were validated
By the simplicity of regret.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The poet drew the line in the sand;
Connecting it to another.
She knew where it began
But not where it was to end.
And so she followed the line,
Searching for the other.
She went through heat,
Through snow and weather violent.
The end never seemed to come,
Her dimming hopes having enough.
With feet so tired, eyes so weary,
How could the gentle poet go on?
So she sank; in spirit, in body,
Her knees hitting sand so rough.
Head falling, hanging in defeat;
And in her despair, the poet missed the gleam.
Her eyes on the grains as they slipped away.
And she knew, feeling the softness contrast
The coarseness she knew could be,
That her fears were validated
By the simplicity of regret.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The poet drew the line in the sand;
Connecting it to another.
She knew where it began
But not where it was to end.
And so she followed the line,
Searching for the other.
She went through heat,
Through snow and weather violent.
The end never seemed to come,
Her dimming hopes having enough.
With feet so tired, eyes so weary,
How could the gentle poet go on?
So she sank; in spirit, in body,
Her knees hitting sand so rough.
Head falling, hanging in defeat;
And in her despair, the poet missed the gleam.
Tiny... Itty Bitty Ranty Thing.
It frustrates me. No... Strike that. It infuriates me.
People have sex. That's not what upsets me so much. Your body is your own and you are free to do whatever and whomever you wish.
What pisses me off is when people have sex... and suddenly your body isn't just yours anymore.
It's yours and that tiny baby's.
What you eat, you and your baby eat together.
What you drink, you and your baby eat together.
What you SMOKE, you and your baby SMOKE together.
What you inject into yourself, you are injecting into you AND YOUR BABY.
And that's only the beginning. As much as that frustrates me, what happens after breaks my heart.
That baby is born. That baby is brought into this world out of the supposed 'safety' of it's mothers womb.
And it is not treated with the love, the protection, the respect and the adoration it deserves.
And that baby is kept in this world, surrounded by people who do not treat it as a child, but as a burden.
I'm not just talking about drugs.
Any kind of parenting that is LESS than everything you can give is unacceptable.
And by less, I don't mean perfect twenty four-seven. But ready to grow, learn, adapt and change.
All of that.... is something that infuriates me.
Now ready for something that crushes me?
I would treat that child... not like a gift, not like a burden... but a human being. My child would be the center of my universe, the center of my vision, the center of my future. Because there is nothing more important, more large, more.... overwhelming... than being a parent.
I see that.
I see it so clearly.
So why am I the one that has to watch people who don't deserve the title "Parent" from the sidelines?
Fuck it.
People have sex. That's not what upsets me so much. Your body is your own and you are free to do whatever and whomever you wish.
What pisses me off is when people have sex... and suddenly your body isn't just yours anymore.
It's yours and that tiny baby's.
What you eat, you and your baby eat together.
What you drink, you and your baby eat together.
What you SMOKE, you and your baby SMOKE together.
What you inject into yourself, you are injecting into you AND YOUR BABY.
And that's only the beginning. As much as that frustrates me, what happens after breaks my heart.
That baby is born. That baby is brought into this world out of the supposed 'safety' of it's mothers womb.
And it is not treated with the love, the protection, the respect and the adoration it deserves.
And that baby is kept in this world, surrounded by people who do not treat it as a child, but as a burden.
I'm not just talking about drugs.
Any kind of parenting that is LESS than everything you can give is unacceptable.
And by less, I don't mean perfect twenty four-seven. But ready to grow, learn, adapt and change.
All of that.... is something that infuriates me.
Now ready for something that crushes me?
I would treat that child... not like a gift, not like a burden... but a human being. My child would be the center of my universe, the center of my vision, the center of my future. Because there is nothing more important, more large, more.... overwhelming... than being a parent.
I see that.
I see it so clearly.
So why am I the one that has to watch people who don't deserve the title "Parent" from the sidelines?
Fuck it.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Unfinished Poem
There you were, all laughter and poise,
Soon I'd find out it was all just white noise,
Because, in the end you were nothing but pain,
But at least I found out and have had the nerve to gain.
So when we're gone, distant memories in the wind,
Will you think that it was all worth it, in the end?
I do, but then, I'm ready to admit,
That we just never would have been a fit.
No changing, no games, no wants or desires,
Could clean up the train-wreck or rekindle the fires.
In the end, I just couldn't stay the same,
Couldn't give up my dreams or tarnish my name.
Soon I'd find out it was all just white noise,
Because, in the end you were nothing but pain,
But at least I found out and have had the nerve to gain.
So when we're gone, distant memories in the wind,
Will you think that it was all worth it, in the end?
I do, but then, I'm ready to admit,
That we just never would have been a fit.
No changing, no games, no wants or desires,
Could clean up the train-wreck or rekindle the fires.
In the end, I just couldn't stay the same,
Couldn't give up my dreams or tarnish my name.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Bright Eyes
I walked a dream from beach to land
And in the dream, there was a strange and alluring man.
He held out his palm, his eyes so stern,
He did not need to speak, not a single word.
And in that space, of looking, of watching,
I saw it.
I took the hand, I took the plunge,
I followed him, eyes open and waiting.
And when we arrived to the house so still,
I stared in awe and let myself be filled.
It was so terrifying, that silent awakening.
I woke up.
With wonder and excitement, I waited.
His lips began to move, forming slowly.
I was on edge, ready to hear,
I was nervous, beginning to fear.
And then in the quiet, the still and the moment,
He said it.
“Bright Eyes.”
And in the dream, there was a strange and alluring man.
He held out his palm, his eyes so stern,
He did not need to speak, not a single word.
And in that space, of looking, of watching,
I saw it.
I took the hand, I took the plunge,
I followed him, eyes open and waiting.
And when we arrived to the house so still,
I stared in awe and let myself be filled.
It was so terrifying, that silent awakening.
I woke up.
With wonder and excitement, I waited.
His lips began to move, forming slowly.
I was on edge, ready to hear,
I was nervous, beginning to fear.
And then in the quiet, the still and the moment,
He said it.
“Bright Eyes.”
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Another Day, Another Ache
Today my plot came to me!
I've been really excited about NaNoWriMo coming up next week. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not really the long term project kind of person. They usually fall apart pretty quickly. NaNoWriMo is my Everest. This year, I'm writing something that is very.... easy for me. Which, I personally find very ironic. Of course, I have a sick sense of humor. I'm looking forward to turning this plot into something flesh out, complete and amazing.
For the first time, I cannot WAIT to start writing. I know this is before the fact, and I know that once the writers block hits (probably around 20,000 words) I'll be far less excited. But for now, I'm enjoying the excitement. I don't know where I'll be in a month but, for once, I'm not letting myself have expectations that will leave me disappointed and hating the process like always.
This next month is.. unplanned. Terrifying! I'm ready. It's so strange to me to be entering a new section of life without a plan. I've always planned myself out because otherwise I'm just tripping in the dark. This'll be bloody interesting to say the least. Isn't this what normal people do, though? They don't plan out every second and hate themselves for not being able to follow through... They live and let what happens happen.
I feel like I need to stop trying so hard to have learning experiences and start letting life teach me at it's own pace. I've been too fast for too long and, for at least the next month, I'm letting go of my tight hold on myself and on my surroundings and floating. This writing project is about so much more than 50,000 words but in a way, I can't let it be more than that; right?
I'm so confused!
I've been really excited about NaNoWriMo coming up next week. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not really the long term project kind of person. They usually fall apart pretty quickly. NaNoWriMo is my Everest. This year, I'm writing something that is very.... easy for me. Which, I personally find very ironic. Of course, I have a sick sense of humor. I'm looking forward to turning this plot into something flesh out, complete and amazing.
For the first time, I cannot WAIT to start writing. I know this is before the fact, and I know that once the writers block hits (probably around 20,000 words) I'll be far less excited. But for now, I'm enjoying the excitement. I don't know where I'll be in a month but, for once, I'm not letting myself have expectations that will leave me disappointed and hating the process like always.
This next month is.. unplanned. Terrifying! I'm ready. It's so strange to me to be entering a new section of life without a plan. I've always planned myself out because otherwise I'm just tripping in the dark. This'll be bloody interesting to say the least. Isn't this what normal people do, though? They don't plan out every second and hate themselves for not being able to follow through... They live and let what happens happen.
I feel like I need to stop trying so hard to have learning experiences and start letting life teach me at it's own pace. I've been too fast for too long and, for at least the next month, I'm letting go of my tight hold on myself and on my surroundings and floating. This writing project is about so much more than 50,000 words but in a way, I can't let it be more than that; right?
I'm so confused!
Monday, October 25, 2010
Fill Me Up, World
Tonight, something happened that hadn’t in so long. I felt the music. Notes flowed over my eardrums like they always do but with the first chord; it was a blast to my chest, a letter to my heart, a wake up call to myself.
All the corny happenings that I avoided for so long fell on me; a gasp for air, a tear blurring my surroundings, feeling whole, so whole. It hurt.
I felt sick for a moment before the heat started. It began in my chest and spread to my neck, my face, my arms, my hands, my finger tips. Then down, to the pits of my stomach, a jolt of energy down my spine, a tingle in my hips, a burning in my legs, feeling in my feet, a curl in my toes.
The burn was so intense, it made my eyes close, it made my mouth dry, my stomach drop.
I don’t know if it’s from my life being empty, I don’t know if it’s from my unfulfilled potential.
I don’t know if it’s my body, from my fingertips to toes, telling me that I need more.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m fulfilled in some aspects and barren in others, or if I finally have this feeling that I can be more.
More than a statistic, more than a face, more than a body, more than some words on a page, more than who I used to be, more than who I could have been, more than me.
God, it hurts so deep, so much, so hard.
But fuck if it’s not the best thing I’ve felt in so long.
“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now.”
All the corny happenings that I avoided for so long fell on me; a gasp for air, a tear blurring my surroundings, feeling whole, so whole. It hurt.
I felt sick for a moment before the heat started. It began in my chest and spread to my neck, my face, my arms, my hands, my finger tips. Then down, to the pits of my stomach, a jolt of energy down my spine, a tingle in my hips, a burning in my legs, feeling in my feet, a curl in my toes.
The burn was so intense, it made my eyes close, it made my mouth dry, my stomach drop.
I don’t know if it’s from my life being empty, I don’t know if it’s from my unfulfilled potential.
I don’t know if it’s my body, from my fingertips to toes, telling me that I need more.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m fulfilled in some aspects and barren in others, or if I finally have this feeling that I can be more.
More than a statistic, more than a face, more than a body, more than some words on a page, more than who I used to be, more than who I could have been, more than me.
God, it hurts so deep, so much, so hard.
But fuck if it’s not the best thing I’ve felt in so long.
“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now.”
Friday, August 13, 2010
In My Leg Sleeves: Fun With Scott
EDIT:
Me: Oh God! I must be sick!
Scott: ?
Me: Well, first I was listening to rap and hiphop... And now I'm listening to Country.
Scott: Yeah, you're dying. You have musical AIDS.
Scott: It's like... God's suppository of love, it has to be taken in the butt.
So today I was talking to a friend of mine, Baron, and.. for some reason I couldn't stop laughing every time he said the word pants.... The following ensued.
"I can't say PANTS, I can't say TROUSERS... What am I supposed to say? Leg Sleeves?"
Me: Oh God! I must be sick!
Scott: ?
Me: Well, first I was listening to rap and hiphop... And now I'm listening to Country.
Scott: Yeah, you're dying. You have musical AIDS.
Scott: It's like... God's suppository of love, it has to be taken in the butt.
So today I was talking to a friend of mine, Baron, and.. for some reason I couldn't stop laughing every time he said the word pants.... The following ensued.
"I can't say PANTS, I can't say TROUSERS... What am I supposed to say? Leg Sleeves?"
Friday, July 30, 2010
Nothing, Really
I feel disconnected.
From myself, from my friends, from my boyfriend, from my family.
I don't know how to find my way back.
I've tried, I've reached out and tried to grasp the people I once had.
I get shaken off.
My brain is just... out of control.
Too many thoughts, too many things that could, should, would go wrong.
I want to stop worrying.
I want to feel reconnected.
I want to feel the words, the music, the art again.
From myself, from my friends, from my boyfriend, from my family.
I don't know how to find my way back.
I've tried, I've reached out and tried to grasp the people I once had.
I get shaken off.
My brain is just... out of control.
Too many thoughts, too many things that could, should, would go wrong.
I want to stop worrying.
I want to feel reconnected.
I want to feel the words, the music, the art again.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
So vacation... It's going well.
I miss feeling weight behind me while I sleep. And, as fucked up as this is, I miss his snoring. I definitely miss kisses and "baby"s and all that.
I miss being woken up by a hungry three year old. I miss the laughter, the hissy fits, the screaming, the big eyes and the little "momma".
But this is vacation. I'm supposed to be having fun, right?
What's happened so far... Well...
We made a fifteen hour drive in about ten (My father drove like a maniac while my mother and I slept). We stopped only a few of times. For breakfast (Hardee's biscuit), for bathroom, for gas, for lunch (Chicken and Dumplings), for bathroom, for gas... Then FINALLY we got to Richmond.
My brother is so skinny now, it's a bit creepy to me. The house him and Amy (My sister-in-law-to-be) live in is BEAUTIFUL.
As we drove down the streets of Richmond, I realized how much I missed Virginia. The crowded houses, the multi-storied buildings, the ivy, the general TEXTURE of the state.
We spent a few hours just talking, relaxing. Giving gifts, talking about the week ahead.
Then we all slept. And it was goooood sleep. That was yesterday though....
Well, spent today in Richmond with the family. We went to lunch at the restaurant where my brother works. He cooked our food and everything (little budding chef that he is). It was INSANELY good.
http://www.balliceauxrva.com/
We had the fried calliflower and the chickpea salad- AMAZING and not at all what I expected) and then I had salmon and smoked trout rillette (I also had a healthy amount of Amy's mac and cheese) and ended with the chocolate hazelnut cheesecake.
Perfect. Lunch.
We went to the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts to walk around while all the food settled and fueled us. Beautiful. I think my favorite piece was a statue of Cleopatra done in white marble. I stared at it, wishing I could touch it. I know, I know.. but it looked so detailed.
And then we came back to my brother and sister-in-law-to-be's house. While they watched soccer, I wrote for a while. Once it got quiet (The parents and the sister-to-be had fallen asleep), my brother and I went to the store to get "food making stuffs and booze".
We ended up making pizza. Sooo good. Zucchini, olive, peppers and mushrooms with fresh basil. It was tasty stuff. We threw all the extra veggies, some kale and lettuce together into a salad to go with it. We also had Vodka-Watermelons. (Cut up fresh watermelon and vodka blended together with some other type of alcohol that tasted very strongly of good black licorice.)
Had a SMALL fallout with the brotherly type but it all ended well with foot massages and jokes.
Now, the house is quiet while everyone is settling down for sleep and me, wide awake as per usual, typing away in the office where I'm sleeping. I have Oh What A Night (December 1963) stuck in my head. Guh.
Tomorrow, I leave for Charlottesville and all the adventures waiting for me there.
I'm sure I'll be writing tomorrow with all that loveliness.
Hasta luego,
Manda
Photo update: 70/1822
Phone Calls To Home: 4
Days Until Home: 10
I miss feeling weight behind me while I sleep. And, as fucked up as this is, I miss his snoring. I definitely miss kisses and "baby"s and all that.
I miss being woken up by a hungry three year old. I miss the laughter, the hissy fits, the screaming, the big eyes and the little "momma".
But this is vacation. I'm supposed to be having fun, right?
What's happened so far... Well...
We made a fifteen hour drive in about ten (My father drove like a maniac while my mother and I slept). We stopped only a few of times. For breakfast (Hardee's biscuit), for bathroom, for gas, for lunch (Chicken and Dumplings), for bathroom, for gas... Then FINALLY we got to Richmond.
My brother is so skinny now, it's a bit creepy to me. The house him and Amy (My sister-in-law-to-be) live in is BEAUTIFUL.
As we drove down the streets of Richmond, I realized how much I missed Virginia. The crowded houses, the multi-storied buildings, the ivy, the general TEXTURE of the state.
We spent a few hours just talking, relaxing. Giving gifts, talking about the week ahead.
Then we all slept. And it was goooood sleep. That was yesterday though....
Well, spent today in Richmond with the family. We went to lunch at the restaurant where my brother works. He cooked our food and everything (little budding chef that he is). It was INSANELY good.http://www.balliceauxrva.com/
We had the fried calliflower and the chickpea salad- AMAZING and not at all what I expected) and then I had salmon and smoked trout rillette (I also had a healthy amount of Amy's mac and cheese) and ended with the chocolate hazelnut cheesecake.
Perfect. Lunch.
We went to the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts to walk around while all the food settled and fueled us. Beautiful. I think my favorite piece was a statue of Cleopatra done in white marble. I stared at it, wishing I could touch it. I know, I know.. but it looked so detailed.
And then we came back to my brother and sister-in-law-to-be's house. While they watched soccer, I wrote for a while. Once it got quiet (The parents and the sister-to-be had fallen asleep), my brother and I went to the store to get "food making stuffs and booze".
We ended up making pizza. Sooo good. Zucchini, olive, peppers and mushrooms with fresh basil. It was tasty stuff. We threw all the extra veggies, some kale and lettuce together into a salad to go with it. We also had Vodka-Watermelons. (Cut up fresh watermelon and vodka blended together with some other type of alcohol that tasted very strongly of good black licorice.)
Had a SMALL fallout with the brotherly type but it all ended well with foot massages and jokes.
Now, the house is quiet while everyone is settling down for sleep and me, wide awake as per usual, typing away in the office where I'm sleeping. I have Oh What A Night (December 1963) stuck in my head. Guh.
Tomorrow, I leave for Charlottesville and all the adventures waiting for me there.
I'm sure I'll be writing tomorrow with all that loveliness.
Hasta luego,
Manda
Photo update: 70/1822
Phone Calls To Home: 4
Days Until Home: 10
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