Turn It On -- Another poem

my heart aches for the world today
but i'm too tired to feel
turn on the tv, turn up the music
turn on the Mac, the i-pad, the smartphone,
turn it all on
so that I can turn it all off
all this pain and suffering
all these lives lost
all these demons walking the earth
all these devilish deeds done to the innocent ones
they cry out
their eyes look for help
their mouths ask for mercy
their hands reach for love
but I cannot see them
I cannot hear
I cannot touch
because it is too much
so turn on the tv, turn up the music
turn on the Mac, the i-pad, the smartphone,
turn it all on
so that I can turn it all off

New Blog

Hello there. It has been a while since I've posted on this blog. I just wanted to make a quick announcement. I have been dedicating more of my time to my newest blog. I would still like to post my poems and anecdotes here from time to time,but most of my posting will be on the new site. If you'd like to check it out and/or follow me there, it is at www.monicadockery.wordpress.com. Thanks!

Summer's Slumber

Today was such a beautiful, cool fall day and though I welcome the change in some ways, in others I wish the summer would never end. I love the sun and the warmth. I love the long days. So, I was inspired to write a "good-bye, but hope to see you again soon" note to summer today. Here it is:


the sun's light will leave us too soon tonight
allowing the dark to crowd in and forcing us to end our daily adventures two hours before we wish
bare, toasted-butter pecan skin turning to amber ale
its nakedness once boldly brandished, now hides under burnt-orange and lime green-yellow knit
the laughter of days spent in sand and surf, now an echo hidden in the brisk wind rushing through the pines
the heat, the haze, the hectic summer ways
now cool, now clear, now calm with blues and grays
and now the trees dress themselves in bouquets
of leaves red, orange, yellow, brown - the colors of summer at the beach
nature's reminder and promise that the seasons do repeat
and we will see summer's face once more
after the snow, after the rain
our feet will find the sand again
and we will shed the layers to soak it in
to soak it in so deep
until the fall, as before, returns to sing
the summer fast asleep

August's first post

Something I wrote today while waiting for Isaiah's class to get out...

Once so pristine, not one ding or chip to be seen anywhere
Made of the purest gold I walked tall and I walked bold
As it sat perfectly atop my head
But not today
 today it is broken with
Smudges on the surface 
It is bent and leans to one side
Even a good shine could not hide
The fatal flaw
And so I am left with a choice
Do I go on wearing it and live in denile
Protesting all the while anyone who dares to say it has lost it's royal glory
Do I try to bargain, hoping that my purse holds enough half-truths and empty vanities to purchase another 
No, neither is enough
For if I choose the first, I will lose my thirst for life, wearied by the energy spent on trying to make the square fit into the circle
If it is the second I choose, I still will lose for there is no guarantee that the replacement will not fall prey to the same fate as it's predecessor
So....what to do
Ah...yes....now I see
A better choice, a number three
Leave my head bare and learn to love having nothing there 
to pull, tug, rub on the skin 
Nothing to weigh me down
Yes, I'll be light as a feather
When I am  brave enough to weather
the rest of my life without a crown

The Race

Each in our own row 
We wear our colors with pride
And run in anticipation of the culmination of a lifetime of events
One team coasting with ease as if the breeze was only meant to blow behind their backs
The rest of us lag behind, as if our shoelaces were tied at birth 
At the start of it all
But we didn't fall 
We have found a way to run with our feet bound together
Closing in on the lead, but each time we come close ...a trip 
A stone....a pebble in the shoe
But all race on 
Because we are here, we must
Until the dust covers more than just our feet 
Or until the ancient sun grows weary of giving us it's heat
  
 

American Dream

There is no rest for the weary
day turns into night
night turns into day

we are zombies, us all
walking through the streets with our breath sagging, our knuckles raw
from pounding against the steel of your vault
dark circles like swirls of smoke around our eyes
you've got us looking like raccoons
in a world run by buffoons
no prospects
no respect
so do we reject
the dream you've been selling?

dream
I wish I could
my eyes try and try
but my mind knows
if I rest I die
cause that's the way u made the game
and so I spend each day the same
watching my blacks turn grays
until I forge a new path out of the haze

and when I do
I will see what you didn't want me to see
that I don't need you... NO!...
you are the one who needs me
so there it is--now it is clear
why you spin the way you do,
why you got our hands stuck like glue
to the metal of the machine
but I wash my hands clean of the dream you are selling

instead I will blaze my own trail
one where you have not set me up to fail
and I will be the first
if I don't lose my thirst
if I don't let my eyes win
if I don't let the doubt in
if I don't hear you say
I cannot go that way
if I keep my mind clear
Then will MY dream be here
and, then, I will laugh at the sleep i lost
and how much of my life it cost
trying so hard to break into you
because I never even needed to

A Bookworm on Broadway

I saw a boy on the street today while I was walking home. He cradled a sizable stack of books in his arms, holding them just as a young child would his favorite stuffed animal to sleep with. He was not a particularly handsome boy, there was nothing out of the ordinary about him that would have normally caught my eye, except the way he was holding the books and one thing more-- the look of complete and utter joy on his face. I could tell the joy he was experiencing had something, if not everything, to do with those books. I thought it was such an odd, yet refreshing, picture to take in. Rarely do I see a teenager (or so he appeared) get excited about anything, much less, a stack of books. So, I carried that picture with me in my mind the rest of the way home and thought about the boy all the while. I wondered, what it was in those books that could put such a smile on that boy's face. Was it that they entertained him? Was it that they provided an escape to other worlds or deeper dimensions of his imagination? Was it that they contained knowledge he was seeking? I could only speculate. What my conclusion of the matter came to be is that I had no idea. But, what I do know is that it didn't really matter either way. Why? Because either way, the words written in them and the boy, himself, would become one and the same.

Who he will be in the future will be determined, in part, by what he has taken in from the world around him, as well as what was written in those books. They will be absorbed ...their messages forever grafted into his DNA--shaping his perspectives on life and death and everything in between. Maybe that was the source of joy, then, knowing that he had just taken one more step towards the person he is to be and maybe he was excited to catch a glimpse of what that person looks like. Maybe my conclusion is wrong and I am making something simple into something complex, but it was a thought--and it was one that made me think about the things I have taken in, the words from voices past that have moved me and have been grafted into my DNA along the way, molding me into the person I am. It is fascinating to reflect on. But, what is even more fascinating to me is how much of the process of absorbing our world of messages is done without us ever being truly conscious of it happening. Makes me want to really be mindful, then, of what I surround myself with...what messages I allow to cross my path...to the extent that I can...so that the better, brighter things, the things that inspire, the things that strengthen, the things that challenge, the things that improve are the things that become one with me.

Perfect Moments: The Men in My Life

Today's moment...



Me, walking down the hallway from our room to the living room. All the lights off in the house. As I walk down, I hear my son singing a dreamy ballad-type song that he made himself, in a high-pitched, falsetto voice. I'm not sure what all the lyrics are, but I do hear him repeat the words "the magic in your heart" a few times. I follow his little voice until I reach the living room. There he is, looking out the window, up at the fireworks in the night sky. His daddy, standing next to him, also looking out the window. As I draw near, my husband and I share a look that says, "that's our son singing that beautiful little song in such a beautiful little voice." His dad, amused and proud. Me, on the verge of tears. Why? You mean, besides the fact that I am a woman?

Well, it is just one of those nights, one of those brief moments when you feel the fullness of the love you have for your child....it swells up in you...and you wish, "man, if only we could slow life down and keep him here, just as he is in this very moment." But, then, you realize that is impossible...and maybe a bit selfish. So, you try to take the moment in, take in every last bit, before it passes and becomes a memory that will come to visit you on those "firsts"---first days of kindergarten, first time he broke a bone, first time he walked home on his own, first time he drove the car, first day at college, first day he fell in love, first day he became a father...so many firsts---- when he takes those BIG steps away from being the kid singing in the window and closer to the man he will become. I love my son and I am just so thankful that I have lived long enough and was fortunate enough to have met him and hope I am fortunate enough to meet him in the future, once more, not as a child but as a man.

Perfect Moments: The Bath

Today's moment...

My son went to bed early today, so I decided to spend the extra time in the evening taking a nice, long bath. Lights off, except one candle. No music. I sat there for what seemed like forever, my thoughts drifting in and out of my mind until there were no thoughts left and my eyelids, then able to relax, slowly began to close. I found myself in that strange, in-between-sleep-and- awake stage where you know you are awake, you can hear what is going on around you, but at the same time you aren't really there. I felt peace....no worries....no tension in my body....nothing, just peace. I opened my eyes after a time and the thoughts came back, only this time they were quieter and kinder. I will have a good night's rest tonight. Thankful.

Perfect Moments: Chocolate

Today's moment....



After a routine day at home with my son, a little piece of chocolatey heaven to make the end of it sweet. Thank you to my husband who is thoughtful enough and has the foresight to buy me not one, but TWO, big organic, dark chocolate bars to hide away from Isaiah as a special..only for me treat:). Nice.

Perfect Moments: catch 22

Today's moment moved like a snail...in slow motion



Today I was in a crowded place, filled with noise. Babies were crying, music was playing, people were laughing. Everything around me was in fast motion. Suddenly, everything slowed down and I was able to see each individual person separate from the others. I studied them all carefully and was able to catch a brief glimpse into each person's story---who they were, why they were there, what kind of life they had lived, what kind of life they might live in the future. It was a very surreal, vivid moment.

Even though it happened in a split second, I thought about it most of the rest of my day---what people were wearing, their features, the way they walked. Each person, innumerably different from the other, yet underneath it all, there are these common threads that keep the stitches of the fabric of humanity intact. Although it, for certain, happens in varying degrees and circumstances, every single person that passed me today has at one point experienced loss, kindness, cruelty, hope, hopelessness, elation, excitement, and a myriad of other states of being and emotions. It was in thinking on this when I felt like I had been given a great gift--the ability to see that there is not one of us that can say, "I am special." Because we all are...but that, in turn, means that we also are not. It is a catch 22. The greatest potential for peace lies in our ability to acknowledge and appreciate our differences while we increase our awareness of and reflection on our "sameness".

Perfect Moments: Deep Conversation with a 3 year old

Today's moment....



My son and I were eating dinner at the table when I was telling him about things I used to do when I was little. Then, he asked me if he was there and I told him no...that he didn't even exist at that time. He paused for a moment, then said, "Oh, so I was in your belly huh?" And I tried to explain to him again that he was not around at all when I was little. He looked at me with a crazy look and threw up his hands. "Well, then where the heck was I?," he asked. He had this baffled look on his face like he could not understand how there was a time when he didn't exist. Then, I could see the wheels turning. He continued, "How did I get here?" I could tell he wasn't looking for a birds and bees explanation, he was asking in a more philosophical tone of voice. He wondered how could something ever not exist.

Instead of answering right away and giving him my assumptions on the topic, I let him sit for a while and sort it out in his head. He came up with a few hypotheses. 1) Maybe mommy and daddy said, "abra cadabra" and used magic to make him appear 2) Maybe he existed in space somewhere before he was born 3) Maybe he was inside some food and he came out like a seed 4) Maybe he was an alien before and now he was a boy.

After he gave some of his own thoughts on the subject, I gave him a few ideas of what other answers other people have come up with in the past (e.g. the big bang theory, creationism, evolution, via actions taken by various gods). I didn't want to tell him one was right and the others wrong. I did not want to give him the assumptions/ideas I have come up with over time. I just wanted him to get an idea of what was out there so that he could compare them to his own ideas and have something to think on. He listened and then, after a short time, he put his foot up in the air and said...."Mom, look at my stinky feet!" It made me laugh. Although I am glad to see my son is getting old and wise enough to think about the BIG questions, I am glad he can still, simply, be a silly kid.

Perfect Moments: The Goal

Today's moment....

I set out on what seemed like an impossible mission with my son today. The odds of us achieving our goal were pretty high, but I was DETERMINED to make it happen. So much so that I told my son that we were not going to give up on our goal until it was reached. With our minds set, we made our first attempt and were shut down immediately. We tried again and, again, were shot down. My son gave me a look that said, "Mom, it's ok, let's try another day", and it was tempting for me to take that as a way out. But, I couldn't do it. I had told him that we were not going home without having met our goal and if I didn't take it seriously on such a simple thing, I feared it would send a message to my son that he might apply to other, grown-up, goals later on. So, what started out as a fun adventure, suddenly became a "teachable moment" about sticking to your guns despite the odds and not losing hope. And so, with our hope, we went and gave it another shot and this time we were successful! After reflecting on what had happened, my son looked up and, with his big smile, said, "We did it, mom! Mission accomplished!" Now, if I told you what the goal was, you might think it was silly or not a big deal, but to my son, it was a big deal, so it doesn't really matter what it was. What does matter is that my son understands that goals should not be given up on even after failed attempts. Also, it made me think about how many other goals I have on MY list that I have yet to apply such unwavering determination to and it made me want to do so immediately, in order that my son might see that his mommy does what she says and will be inspired to do the same.

Perfect Moments: My Bed

Today's moment....

After a loooong day of traveling (and a VERY bumpy flight), we finally arrived at our home. I dropped my bags, took a shower to get that air-travel-skin scrubbed off, and plopped down face first onto my bed. There's something about being gone for a while and then reuniting with your own bed! It is the ONLY one that has a corresponding indentation for every part of your body so that it holds you in just the right way:). What a feeling! Although I enjoyed our trip, I am so glad to be back and to be so fortunate as to have a comfortable place to get a good night's sleep:)

Perfect Moments: Cafe du Monde

Today's moment.....



My husband made my day when he came back to our hotel from a walk holding a bag FULL of beignets and an ice cold chicory coffee drink. It is not only a tradition, but a MUST DO, when we come to New Orleans. If I could eat a bag of beignets everyday, buried under a mountain of powdered sugar, without it hurting my health and waistline...I WOULD!!! As they say, why do the things that are so bad for you, taste so darn good?! When we get back to Cali tomorrow, I'm going to have to answer for all my glutonous, "I'm on vacation", sins. But, did not worry about that today...today, I ate to my heart's content.

Perfect Moments: Freestylin'

Today's moment...

It was late, we were all tired from a long day with family. We were driving back to Mississippi from Alabama and my husband and I were trying to explain the art of freestyle rapping to our three year-old. After a run down on the basics, our son gave it his best shot and though the lyrics weren't very....sophisticated...he had the heart and the rhythm to make up for it. Just hanging out in the car, the three of us, and sharing music we all mutually enjoy has been one of the best moments of our trip thus far.

Perfect Moments: Spa Day

Today's moment....


Today was such a nice day! I spent it at the Beau Rivage Spa with my mother-in-law. We passed the time relaxing in the sauna, taking in the view of the Gulf Coast, walking along the bridge, and soaking sore muscles in a warm jacuzzi. But, the perfect moment of the day came when I was laying out in the sun looking at the gulf and the fine-grained, white sand along the beach with the warm breeze gently blowing over my body. Normally, in a moment like this, I would be preoccupied by wondering if my son was ok or if he might be missing me or be upset about me spending a day away. That wasn't the case today. I was able to just drink it all in with a free mind. It took me so long to realize that if I do not give myself times like these and do things I enjoy on my own every now and then, I am not only doing myself a disservice, but also my family. Why? Because when I return, I return with renewed enthusiasm for life, for my dreams--a renewed desire to be a better wife, mother, friend.

Perfect Moments: Young Love, Revisited

Today's moment...

One of the reasons why I love coming to visit our family down South is that it is one of the very few times my husband and I get to go out without our son. I love my son, think about him all the time...even when we are out...but, every parent understands that feeling you get when you and your spouse get to reconnect on a one-on-one level and devote our full, undivided attention to one another. It may be just me....but, at first, I always feel a bit odd--don't know exactly what to do. It is like I have to remember how to turn off the "mommy" switch and just be the Monica I was when my husband and I first got together. Though I have changed... grown up a bit...in many ways I am still that girl. Eventually, we find the groove again and for a moment...a brief, but beautiful, moment...we are the young lovers once more. More than content to be in each other's company, to simply be near each other. We hold hands and give each other those gentle touches that, at the start, would send chills down our spine....and are pleasantly surprised to find they still do.

Life tries its darndest to trip us up, keep us too busy or too complacent to remember just how incredible our spouses are. But we have to do what we can, when we can, to slow it down enough to catch our breath and breath new life into, invigorate, our relationships...to remember them as they were when love was new while, at the same time, deepen our appreciation for who our spouses have become and how the roots of our love have grown deeper with the passing of time.

Perfect Moments: Apple bottom jeans, boots wit da ferrr

Today's moment came courtesy of none other but the people who started the Zumba craze and the "king" of auto-tune....Mr. T-Pain. Had he not put out this superficial yet moving piece of music, I would have never had the following picture in my mind to make me laugh and smile for years to come!

Picture this:

A room full of good ol' Bible Belt, church-goin' Mississippi women, T-Pain's "Apple-Bottom Jeans" song blaring out the speakers, AND.... my 50 somethin' year-old mother-in-law giving "her big booty a smack" and "hit[ting] the floor, next thing you know, [she got] low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low". I couldn't help but laugh inside, thinking "this woman's gonna' get toooo low and is going to need ME to help her back up!"

Two things to take away from this moment:
1. The revelation that Southern women can, surprisingly, do Latin moves some justice
2. A memory that is sure to cheer me up should I be visited by a rainy day in the future

Perfect Moments: Southern Sunset

Today's moment....



Me, sitting on the front porch, watching my son help his Grandma out by watering her lawn for her. Their two opposing silhouettes in the foreground and a Southern peach sunset in the background. The silent sound of empty country roads, accompanied by the gentle beating of a grateful heart.

Perfect Moments: Home

Today's moment....

Today we traveled all day long from our home in California to get to New Orleans. The perfect moment came when we stepped out of the Louis Armstrong airport in NOLA and felt that sweet, humid, Southern evening breeze. Some may complain of the humidity down here but, to me, it is like a warm blanket welcoming me to a place that in many ways feels more like "home" than home to me. I love it here. They grow some good men...and I think I might have been been a Southerner in a past life because the food here just suits me soooo well:)!!! Down here life is slow....but, not in a bad way. Just as it is with their cooking, the slower you let it come to a simmer, the more developed the flavor. The flavor of the South is charm and soul mixed in with a pinch of humility, and a heap full of warmth. Feels good to be home.

Perfect Moments: Pure Luck

Today I read something that completely blew me away. There was an article on Yahoo about the rape of women in the Congo. EVERY DAY (when averaged out) there are 1, 152 women raped (approx. 48 an hour---to read the article see http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110512/ap_on_re_af/af_congo_rape. Also, see http://www.msmagazine.com/spring2005/congo.asp on what one woman, personally affected by the war has gone through...caution..it is very graphic). And that is a conservative number as many women do not report their rape to someone. This is devastatingly horrific to me, not only as a woman, but as a human. If this doesn't shake you, I don't know what will. I just think to myself, "What in the world can I do?" Sex violence has been a part of war-torn countries for centuries, but I cannot simply accept it as the way things are. Awareness, I think, is the first step. Sharing that awareness with others, the next. After that? Still thinking on that.

Although I realize that picking this article as the "Perfect Moment" of the day seems out of line, let me explain. When I read articles like these about people across the globe, it hurts me. But, in that hurt, I find a reason to be thankful. I am thankful for the hurt because it shows me that I, like all of us, am connected to everyone else....even people a world away. It reminds me of the very basic needs that we all share and makes me think about the hows and whys. How did I happen to be born in such a different condition from these women in the Congo? Why? It was not because I am better than them. It was not because I am from a blessed people and they from a cursed. It is out of pure chance....at least this is my thinking on this. Some may disagree. But, I really do believe that it is possible, had the events of history been different, that I could have been the one born in a country where the rape of women is so commonplace. Coming from this perspective... this belief of the way people are connected, it is extremely difficult for me to support wars, ours or theirs, as in any war, people---PEOPLE!!!--individuals...like me (most, of whom, are innocent) die. Because it could just as easily be me.

Perfect Moments: A Quiet Room

Today's perfect moment is actually happening right now as I write this. My son is asleep, the laundry is in the dryer, I am on my comfy bed, and the lights are all turned off. I looooooove quiet. I always have. I love that the only sound I can hear right now is my fingers tapping on the keyboard. Silence has played such an incredibly important part in the maintenance of my sanity over the years. It may sound strange, but when I am all alone in a dark, quiet space, that is when I feel the most connected to everything and everyone around me. It is when I think the best thoughts and am visited by my dear friends Inspiration and Strength. We all mingle for a while, catching up on old news and making plans together for the future. They stay until the noise of life returns and becomes so loud that they cannot bear it any longer. They hide away for a time until I make my way into the stillness once more. Then, we meet again, our friendship renewed--my passions returned.

Perfect Moments: The Ducks

When I was a little girl, my bed was situated right by the window and every morning I would wake up to the sound of sparrows rustling around in the leaves of the cherry trees in the yard. To me, those little birds were my friends coming to say hello and believing myself to be some kind of real-life Snow White, I would actually sit there and try to talk to them and say hello back to them. I swore that they could understand me and that at any minute they would come near, land on my outstretched arms, and sing me a song to start off my day (yes, I realize by sharing this that I am admitting to being somewhat of a strange child:) ). Since then, I have always had a fondness for little, living creatures, and for nature, in general.

Today's perfect moment came when my son and I were at the park. We had flown a kite, thrown some tennis balls around, and then decided to go visit the ducks. Since it is Spring, there are several mother-father pairs of ducks swimming around with their newly-hatched ducklings. I think ducklings are possibly the most adorable newbies in the bird family. Anyway, my son wanted to get a closer look (as usual). So, I explained to him that the mommy duck would not let us get close to the babies if she thought we were there to harm them and that we would have to be very still and calm and tell the mommy that we didn't want to hurt her babies, we just wanted to see how they are learning to swim better. And that is exactly what we did. While my son started whispering softly to the mommy duck, she looked at him and gave a soft whisper of a quack in response as if to say, "Ok, you can look, but if you get too close...beware." The ducklings came very close to us and we laughed as we watched them splash around and bicker with each other, all the while keeping a close eye on the mommy duck who, in turn, was keeping a close eye on us. Watching my son and hearing him talk to the ducklings and their mommy was what brought to memory those times when I saw the sparrows outside my window as a little girl....good, simple moments. And, it made me happy to think that my son (if he is fortunate enough to live a full life and have his own children) might be reminded of today and our encounter with the ducks by his own kids one day. It is the cyclical nature of things that continues to make new things old and old things new. It is a fascinating phenomena to observe.

Perfect Moments: A Change of Plans

Well, today is Mother's Day and as is customary for many, my husband, son, and I set out looking for a nice, Mother's Day meal. We woke up and decided to go to a particular brunch, but when we got there, we were told that the next available opening wasn't for another few hours!!! Then, we tried three other places and ran into the same problem. Apparently there are a lot of people who actually plan in advance and do reservations (what kind of people do that!!:) ). Well, we thought about giving up, but we happened to stumble upon a big line of people and followed the line to see what it lead to. To our surprise, it was a special, only on Mother's Day, event at the Disneyland Hotel. It was more than a buffet, there was a live band, bottomless champagne, and photo ops with Disney characters. It turned out to be such a decadent way to spend a Mother's Day. The important point here, for me, is sometimes you don't get what you plan for, sometimes you get more. And, sometimes you get less. But, in either case, we have EVERYTHING we need-- we are alive, we have food, we have clean water, freedom of speech, the ability to think and feel "love" or connection, and the list goes on and on and on if we pause long enough to read it.

Perfect Moment: The High

Went for a run today after having skipped a few days. That first mile after having skipped for a bit is always a killer. But, then after a certain point...something magical happens. You hit "the high" where you are in your own little world and there are no thoughts to distract or worry you. You feel like the best, strongest version of yourself....clarity of mind...like you could run forever and never tire. You hear, only your breath. You feel, only the ground beneath you. It is a wonderful, mind-freeing activity, which if you are someone like me and have difficulty turning off your over-thinking tendency, is a life saver. So thankful to have all my limbs and organs working properly enough for me to experience this kind of liberation. Thankful, also, for the time.

Perfect Moments: Me vs. The Bee

Today's perfect moment....



Today, my husband, son, and I went on an outing for the evening. As we were waiting in line, my son was dancing around (as usual) and singing...excited to be out and about. Suddenly, I noticed something crawling on the back of shirt. I got a closer look and realized it was a BEE!....precariously positioned an inch away from my son's neck. Now, if you know me....you should know that my usual response in such a situation would be ..."AAAAAHHHHH!"....and then, I would be running like a wild woman the opposite direction. Well, today...when I saw that the bee was so close to causing my son some serious pain, I freaked for a slight moment, but quickly regained composure and pretended like nothing was wrong so as not to alarm my son and cause him to move. Then, I flicked the bee off of him with my finger!! My son escaped, no sting and no idea that I had just saved his LIFE!!:)

ok, well...that's exaggerating a bit...but anyway

The point...the reason WHY this is the perfect moment of the day today...is, in that moment I thought of someone other than myself...at least, consciously, it seemed that way. Everything in me wanted to scream!!!! and get away, but I couldn't let my son get hurt. In that moment, I felt like such a MOM...fitting for this week, I guess. I will admit that I don't always feel like a MOM. Sometimes I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, sometimes I feel like I'm the greatest mom there ever was:). But, I know this....I would do everything in my power to protect my son from harm....I KNOW it. This is one of only a few things I can say that I am CERTAIN of. It is amazing... baffling even. The special bond between a parent and child...in most cases...is one of the things that makes it harder to accept and embrace the fact that this life will come to an end and with it, all the precious bonds we've experienced with the people in it. It is these moments when I am reminded to appreciate them while I can.

Perfect Moments: Sitting Across from a Man

Honestly, I could have chosen from many moments today since I spent the entire day with my son at a beautiful private beach on a absolutely wonderful, sunny California day. We made sand castles, looked for shells, examined some sea anemone, splashed in icy cool waves, and played hopscotch in the sand.

But, my perfect moment...since I've limited this month's exercise to one....came when we got home.

My son, asleep in his room. My husband, working on the computer. Me, sitting across the table from him trying to pretend like I'm doing something, when really I am staring at my husband from the corner of my eye thinking, "That man is fine!" We've been together since 2001 and he is still, without a doubt, hands down, the sexiest man I have ever seen! Understand what I mean by sexy---I could go into great detail about every physical feature (there are plenty, but my momma might read this:) ) that I am crazy about....but more than that....there is:

strong....swagger on 10---confidence and competence oozing out of every pore....soul....integrity...a warrior...a real, no excuses, always takes care of his business kind of man.....

So blessed, happy to have met this man a little over a decade ago and to have seen my appreciation for what a masterpiece he is only increase with the years....

Perfect!

The Perfect Moment

I have been neglecting you, dear blog. Apologize, I do (my son is really into Star Wars right now:) ). But, it is a new month, a new day! I will be spending the month of May sharing my "perfect moment" of each day. By perfect moment, I mean--the times when the world stops turning for a brief second, long enough for you to see yourself and everything around you more fully and in silent stillness, the beauty in your life comes into focus and you experience the most profound sense of thankfulness.

Today's moment...

My son and I, after having a picnic on the City Hall lawn across the street, lying down on the grass, looking up at the sky, watching a weakened Santa Ana wind make the trees around us gracefully dance from side-to-side. The look of pure delight on my son's face accompanied by his gleeful giggle was reminiscent of the one he would send forth forcefully when he was still not yet able to talk, but was teeming with a desperate desire to communicate his excitement over newfound discoveries. Seeing him so genuinely happy, by something some may think so simple, made my heart swell.

Reflections

....just a regular cup o' joe? I think not....creativity can turn a cup of coffee into a work of art...

As promised, I wanted to write a brief reflection on last month's March Madness poetry run. I chose to do it because for some reason the creative monster inside of me had awakened. There are times in life when it seems like if you don't create something, pour yourself out into something...you will bust! That's what I was feeling...and it continues. I chose poetry to be my outlet because it is my first love. I forgot how much I loved it during my years in college and teaching....too busy. My life is so slow now, I have had time to fall in love once more. So thankful.

All that said, I gained two important gems from the March Madness experience. The first gem I gained is a better understanding of what matters to me. The topics I write on are the same things that are at the core of who I am....my love for my husband and my son, devotion, simple pleasures, and a desire for a more just, ethical world. The poetry that comes stems naturally from these things. The second gem? I learned that the most beautiful insights in life can come from the most mundane. There is meaning in every moment if we sit, be still, and create meaning. My challenge to myself was to write a new poem, everyday for the rest of the month of March. I did that. Now, my challenge to myself is to continue to create meaning from the mundane for the rest of my life. I am up to the challenge. And you?

I am

This is not meant to offend anyone....it is simply an honest snapshot of where my idea of "GOD" is at this point in my life...forever evolving

imagine my surprise
when I opened up my eyes
to a world much different from
one I used to know
a world where no one
really, really knows
the truth about who or what you are
some will say I've gone too far
but I can't hide my distaste
for the arrogance I displayed
when I claimed to know your name
when there really is know way
to know

some say you are God
Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah
all of them attempts to name
something we don't know
too great for us to know
but they say that they've arrived
they hate, they kill, and they divide
in the name of their chosen name
not seeing they are all the same
no sole bearers of truth
cause we'd have to know you to know

I don't know you like I thought I did
but I see you in everything
I don't know you like I thought I did
but I'm thankful for everything
I am, I am

Dear Pen

I don't know how to say this
or quite where to begin
especially after all the years
and situations we've been in
like when i wrote my first letter to a boy
and asked him if he liked me, check yes or no
and you were there to provide catharsis
when he said he had to go
you helped me pour my broken heart out in page after page
and you were still there when my sneaky brother,
a covert war, did wage
when i first found out that he had read those pages for all to hear
you brought the therapy i needed to get out words instead of tears
then, years later, you ...still the loyal friend
were there when my years in high school came to an end
and I had no choice but to sign my life away to some loan
hindsight is 20/20, they say, if only we had known
that four years and countless hours spent with you in hand
instead of leading me to a career
would lead to a foreign land
where you helped me tell about the exciting sights, tastes, and sounds
of a world of new experiences and friends that I had found
but i came back home and when i did
you assisted me once more
you helped me to write back and forth
with the man I came to adore
I loved him more than anyone knew except for you
and you were the one to sign the papers at the courthouse
before we said I do
then, you guided me when I wrote my new, unfamiliar last name
it was so strange to hear, at first, it seemed just like a game
that first time, indeed, felt a little bit odd
but as we stared at it for a moment on the paper
you gave an approving nod
and that name has grown to fit so well
I cannot recall
what my maiden name sounded like
next to my first, at all
so many chapters in my life
you've stood by me and have written
the newest one about my son,
with whom i am quite smitten
remember when you wrote his name on the certificate of his birth
even now, neither of us can write what that moment's worth
or how about the last time, I used you, my dear tool
how hard it was for me to sign that stack of forms for his preschool
and now that brings me back to where i first began
this poem about all the things you and I have
done together in my lifespan
that even with computers, i-phones, and i-pads
i still love you more than all those gizmos, gadgets, and doo-dads
cause you were there from the beginning
and you were always a true friend
and so I promise to do the same
until the very end

Public Enemies

public enemy 1 and 2
I'd do anything to be with you
hold the wheel
smoke cigars
curse like a sailor
live behind bars
watch 9 go down
to see you smile
but i have not seen it
in quite a while
they're closing in
following our trail
but even in death
there'll be no betrayal
cause you were the only hope
in a hopeless situation
you were my only hope
in a time of desperation
so i'll skirt the state lines
of the five midwest states
and on towards lousiana
where our destiny awaits
if this is the last time
you and me ride
ride like a king
with your queen by your side
to the end, to the end
to the end with you dear
to the end, to the end,
the end with you near
fifty bullets a piece
will not erase our name
fifty bullets a piece
have instead sealed our fame
now, you and I-- together--still riding along
in the pages of history
where we, both, always knew we'd belong

Chocolate Bliss

In a cup, all warmed up, with melted marshmallows on top
Spiced up with a dash of chili for dinner
As a thick, creamy ganache smothered over a delectably decadent cake
In the shape of a kiss

Chocolate bliss, chocolate bliss

Dusted gently around the outside of a trifle
Folded gingerly into an airy mousse
In perfect, bite-sized, square-shaped morsels
Tempered into a masterful Swiss

Chocolate bliss, chocolate bliss

Nothing satisfies a craving
Nothing soothes an anxious mind
Nothing comes close to what you do
To help me to unwind
You're the perfect blend of
Everything good and pure and sweet
So good, in fact, I just can't wait to reward
my mouth with another treat

Whole House for Rent

for my single friends, or ones about to marry....please see the satire....you can't hold back. Keeping the deepest parts of you, your biggest dreams and worst fears, will keep the other always at a distance

p/s - I actually saw a sign on my run today that said "Whole House for Rent" and thought it was a bit strange/funny


whole house for rent except for one room
i'm not ready to let go
whole house for rent except for one room
i think you ought to know
you could have the granite countertops
the marble on the floor
you could have the hardwoods
stainless steel
and custom-made front door
you could have the newly remodeled patio
venetian blinds
and chandelier
all except for this one room
are waiting for you here
for this one room is all i'll have
once you decide to sign
this one room has been the only thing
all these years that I've called mine
I know i'm selfish to keep it
for me and only me
but if i were to let the whole house go
what will i have left, you see?
so if you can live with
having possession of it all except one room
then welcome welcome
lets sign the papers
mon amie, ou et le plume?

(translation: my friend, where is the pen?)

I'm cheating today

wish i had the time
to write down my best rhyme
but today has moved too fast
so to the side, this blog, must be cast

enjoy your saturday all:)

A Midnight's Dream

I had a dream
that you came for them last night
you carried them away on the wind
and left me alone on my bed
I cried, I pleaded, but my pleas fell dead on your ears
for you cannot hear
you cannot see
what you leave behind
the destruction done
the crack in the earth's crust
that leads to the depths of
our deepest fears and regret
I wish I could forget
you exist but you will not allow it
for I see you as you pass me on the street
and I see you in the distant stare found in the eyes
of the ones I love
as they look above
at the stars that light up the dark night
reminders, again, of how even the most
grand and brilliant ones
eventually lose their shine
his, hers, and mine
you come to us all
but not tonight
tonight you were a dream I could wake myself up from
and tuck away in the trunk of things better left
for the proper time
when, both, reason and rhyme
are nowhere to be found

The Breath

I breathe into you
you breathe into me
the breath of life
it flows freely

together we make a family
and that breath goes on
to eternity

and it goes on and on and on and on
on and on and on and on
on and on and on and on and on

I hurt you
then you hurt me
we're fighting the wars
of our family

its been handed down
but some still can't see
we're all just living
another's legacy

and it goes on an on and on and on
on and on and on and on and on
on and on and on and on and on

whatever you say
whatever you do
it touches the ones
who will come after you
careful what you choose
to breath life into
cause it keeps on living
long after you do

and it goes on and on and on and on
on and on and on and on
on and on and on and on and one

LINES...

On the paper
In the street
Drawn in the sand
By our feet
At a bar
On my face
Ones I wish
I could erase

At the store
On a building
Towering over
a city unyielding
Some imaginary
Some made to cross
Especially when
You are the boss

Everywhere
Between you and me
That is a place
they don't need to be
Cause we're from the same
Human one
And with this one
My poem's done

The Girl Who Couldn't Smile

Pretty rainbows and sunshine all around
puffy pillows, sleepy willows gather 'round
she sleeps in sweet peace, no cries of pain to awaken her
the skies of blue are open to
her, but she can't see, no she can't see

'Cause she's the girl who can't smile
though her life's grand as any dream she's ever dreamed
she's the girl who can't smile
though it is clear she has been given everything

Bumpy tree barks and snowflakes on the ground
starry nights and flying kites that won't touch down
pink and indigo, swirl like blankets and surround her
in a warm cocoon, but it won't be too soon before she sees
no, she just cannot see

'Cause she's the girl who can't smile
though her life's grand as any dream she's ever dreamed
she's the girl who can't smile
though it is clear she has been given everything

A child's laughter, love ever after, she's found
steady wealth and steady health all abound
the worst of life has yet to touch her precious head
oh, be grateful for your
having more and
now can you see? the girl is me

I'm the girl who couldn't smile
and my life's grand as any dream I've ever dreamed
I'm the girl who couldn't smile
but, I see clearly, now, I've been given everything

Why did it take so long?
Why did it take so long?
But, I'm glad I'm here
I'm glad I see
I'm glad I see
that I have everything

The Fire

match
spark
in the dark
he stands
to get the world aroused
his hair and clothing doused
in BPs fluid currency
smoke-scented singes
covering his body
the sweet stench of burnt flesh
rises through dissipation
and travels over a sea
of blind eyes and deaf ears
now can they hear?
his cries of desperation
it took a fire to burn
for him to earn a closer listen

red
the fire has bled over
to the streets of Tiananmen square
the sinister affair
black powder
the ballistics
he lied about the statistics
about how many felt the fire
but no one can touch the liar
cause he is the one who controls
the stories in the books of histories
so young men and young women's pleas
are only heard if the fire
burned bright enough
to disintegrate the pages
shame how they had to burn
for them to earn a closer listen

crackle
the flames crawl closer west
the first one passed the test
and now the fire blazes
hotter than the sun
on their desert sands
the ash and the soot
still covering joined hands
the hearts and minds
melted to a
changed state of matter
their fire climbs a ladder
to the skies where there are no-flys
we see the heat rise
and spread across an ocean
of eyes and ears
that have no choice
as they watch four countries burned
it seems that they have earned
a closer listen

sometimes you have to set yourself on fire
to make yourself heard
'cause sometimes the word
is not incendiary enough to
ignite
the light
and build the steady burn
it takes for you to earn
a closer listen

Small Talk

small talk isn't for me
it never has been
cause, to me, words once spoken
lose their flavor
i want to savor
their taste on my tongue
for as long as I can
hold them there
let them drip slow like honey
ain't it funny
how once on the loose
they become hard to catch
i hate that, so to keep them
from runnin' wild in the street
or render them obsolete
I lock them down
inside the crevices of my mind
until it becomes clear
that i have no choice
but to give them a voice
then i set them free
like the bird in a cage
and hope that in exchange for their freedom
i receive in return
the ability to discern

Raindrops

Soooo, my friends......I am putting my neck waaaaaay out there with this one. Poems are sometimes best served accompanied with some music. So, this is my amateur attempt at doing so (with the help of my just-now-discovered GarageBand friend...had it all this time and NEVER knew what it was).

Since I am technically challenged, you'll have to post this in your browser to hear the song on my myspace:

http://www.myspace.com/564645733/?pm_cmp=nav

Also, here are the lyrics as some may be hard to decipher:

Raindrops

The world can be so cold
when someone steals your sun
The wind and clouds so bold
to steal away your fun

When you can't fight the storm
make peace with the rain
And ask it to rain down
a new song again

Raindrops, sing a song for me
Raindrops, bring me a new dream

Its lonely when you try
to be a butterfly
Cause no one likes you to
fly higher than they do

And so they pray for storms
to try and stop your flight
But, rain can be a friend
No, you don't have to fight

Raindrops, sing a song for me
Raindrops, bring me a new dream

A Child's Sense

he sees strawberry chocolate skies
and sleeping dinosaur mountains
he sees each color hidden in white light
and little, bitty, baby bugs crawling in the grass

he hears the whispers of the wind, asking him to run beside it
and big, hairy, scary monsters stomping on the ceiling at night
he hears the melody in the clanging of the chain hitting against an iron fence
and his own lyrics in each song that plays on the radio

he feels the shape of each teenie, tiny grain of sand in the sandbox
and the beat of a bass drum pounding in his chest
he feels the soft, silky smooth of cold milk gently coating the back of his throat
and the fine thread of every fiber of his favorite blanket when he sleeps

he smells the yummy of the oatmeal cookies in the oven before they are even made
and the distinct scent of each flourishing flower he passes on his way to the park
he smells the smoke of the pretend fire he's made while camping in his room
and the wet of the rain tap, tap, tapping on his window

he tastes the green in the spinach he wishes mommy didn't make him eat
and the blind-to-the-naked tongue, tantalizing taste of water
he sees, hears, feels, smells, tastes the tastes of life with every breath he breathes
oh, to be a child again and taste, smell, feel, hear, see the things he sees

Two Toothbrushes

Two toothbrushes, side-by-side, on the sink
His is blue, mine is pink

There used to only be one
but its been a while and I can't bring to memory
how things were before there was a you and me
I'm sure things were easier
No opposing views and dirty socks to pick from the floor
But, I'm also sure that without you, my life would be a bore
Because we're different
As in, "Why you always gotta' cry?"
As in, "Why do you always need a why?"
Yes, we're different
As in, "Why can't you work on that later and come to bed?"
As in, "Why can't you see if I didn't work on this, you'd have a cot instead?"
Yes, we're different
As in, "Babe, I know it's late, but can you go to the store for some ice cream?"
As in, "Damn! Only place I want to go is to put my head on a pillow and dream?"
But you went anyway
You always do
And I know everyday
Is better with, not without, you
So though, at times, we miss each other's message
Things get lost in translation
One thing is crystal clear about our frustration
Its about men are from Mars and women from Venus
Its got nothing to do with a lack of love between us
So, I'll take you, and your dirty socks that stink
And I'm glad there are still two toothbrushes, side-by-side, on our sink

Two toothbrushes, side-by-side on the sink
His is blue, mine is pink

The Wall

A wall of liquid fears
The whole wide world can hear
Your cries of pain and terror
Are ringing in our ears

I wonder if that wall
Beckons you to recall
The time when we, with the world
Watched Hiroshima and Nagasaki fall

How the world likes to forget
But you never forgot, I bet
Time will only allow it for so long
Before it reminds us of our wrong
We were so quick to burn you to the ground
But, now, we rush to keep you from going down
Why is it so different now
Could it be we both know how

Much we need each other
You have become the brother
We fight with, but can't stand to be without
Because you, now, have too much clout

We need your money on our Wall
We can't afford for it to fall
Embarrassing, but true, indeed
We only rush to help the ones we need

Work of Art

Cotton candy-tinted tens
Glitter-specked cheeks
Tresses drenched in toxic fumes
And across her lips? a plastic, painted smile

You went to the school where they taught that if you paint a pretty portrait you can call it art
But art is not the perspective lines on the paper, its the perspective that lies in the painter
Hollow, empty, without soul
No one can feel you when you've encased your body in a shroud of shellack
Oh, how you lack
The understanding of the beauty of real

Barbie queen, instead become a stripper, and strip your skin's dead layers of empty vanity
Get back the core, the woman you were before they sold you on the lie that she was not enough
When you find her once again it will be clear to you that she is lovelier than you remembered
Her mind still strong, and her heart still tender
Because even though she's been buried, with decay and death determined to destroy her
They could not touch her
She would not let them, for she knew that you would come back for her one day
When, both, youth and men went away
And you were left hanging alone in a museum of art that never did sell

Goodbyes Make Me Cry

Went back to visit my hometown this weekend and I was reflecting on what I was feeling when we moved away....cannot believe it has been 8 months! Time flies. We are happy where we are, it's a wonderful place....but, there's something about knowing that you'll never get certain moments back that gives you just a taste of bittersweet. So...

Nothing Lasts Forever

So many memories where we first made our home
Where he took his first steps
Tiny little footprints, painted on the porch steps
The lessons learned, the music of our life
filled our small and cozy space
And I know we'll never hear
the same music in another place

But it was time as, time always comes for change
We could try to delay
And try to escape, but it'd find us all the same
So since we can't hide from, instead we chose to run
Towards the dwelling of our fate
And take the risks that come our way
Oh, possibilities of a new day

Empty boxes, empty boxes all around
Stretched across on the ground
We'll fill them up with new dreams, until they bust at the seams
Yes, the best has yet to come
and I know we must say good-bye
So, one last look and one last cry
We both knew this wouldn't be our life

Forever, forever
Nothing lasts forever
Forever, forever
Nothing lasts forever

In Honor of Women Who've Dared to ...

Dedicated to Rosa Parks, Somaly Mam, and Lindsay (not Lohan)

He said, "Get to the back of the bus,
Girl you know the rules
Ain't now way I'mma let you break'em
Try as you may
You may as well stay
Where you belong, you never were strong
Enough to be more than this

Cause that's for us, not for you
You know it's true, don't you?
That's for us, not for you
So give it up now, now won't you?"

But, she waived her fist in the air and
She said she didn't care,
Said, "I've got a right to be here,
I've got a right to be here"

She said, "There's no way out for us girls,
Don't have a chance
Ain't no way they're gonna' let us go
Without dying,
No use in trying
No, we don't belong, but we're just not strong
Enough to be more than this

Cause we are theirs, not our own
You know it's true, don't you?
And they'll kill us if we try to
So give it up now, now won't you?"

But she waived her fist in the the air
She said she didn't care
Said, "I'm breaking free from here,
I'm breaking free from here"

Mom said, "You'll never be something
Girl, you never were
Ain't no way you're gonna' make it
Out in LA
You may as well stay
Here where you belong, you never were strong
Enough to be more than this

Cause that's not for us, it's for them
You know it's true, don't you?
That's not for us, but for them,
So, give it up now, now won't you?"

But she waved her fist in the air,
She said, she didn't care
Said, "I'm gonna' make it there,
Yes, I'm gonna' make it there"

Even if it means nothing, it still means something

The Meanings

When she was only nine years old
Her mother died and her dad grew cold
He drank his pain down late at night
It's bitter taste provoked, in him, a fight
Since Death was nowhere to be found
It was her face that he would pound
He'd yell and say he wished she'd go
So away she went, so did her soul

16 years old, her soul still missing
She tried to find it in boys and kissing
But neither could undo the harm
Done by the first man who'd held her in arms
The pain her father tried to drink away
Was the same pain that drove those boys away
She mourned for her soul, day and night
Thought, "If men can't save me, a baby might"

She's 29 now, four kids later
And she has yet to find her savior
Still looking for what she once had
Her story remains broken and sad
But she is not the only one
Walking dead under the sun
The world is full of soulless beings
In relentless pursuit of "the meanings"

I honestly think that one of the cruelest, most insensitive things to say to someone who has just lost a loved one or has gone through something traumatic is, "Everything happens for a reason" (or everything has a purpose or meaning). I do not believe this, not one little bit. In fact, I think the opposite sounds more true to me. Nothing happens for a meaning and nothing has meaning. The only meaning anything ever has is one that we have given it. For example, what is the meaning of all the innocent Iraqi and Afghanistan children dying EVERY day in the war (of course, you won't hear about those or see the pictures of their dead bodies strewn across the street on American mainstream media outlets, so some of you may have no idea what I'm talking about here)? What could possibly be a reason for this? What purpose? What purpose or meaning is there in kids (like the ones in the group home I used to work in) being sexually and physically abused by their own family, their own parents? What about a four year old getting shot and killed in the crosshairs of gang activity? When you think about these things, the idea that these things happen for a purpose sounds absolutely absurd! Or, at least, it should. And yet, how many times do we hear it, "everything happens for a reason."

Now, there is one way to think about it, I think, where the statement could make sense. That is, even though there may be no real or inherent purpose to an event, everyone who experiences or hears about the event does end up assigning to the event their own interpretation. In short, we create our own meanings. So, in this way, everything DOES have a purpose, but the purpose (or interpretation assigned to it) is different for every person involved. To clarify...let's take the war. Question five people on the street about the purpose/meaning of the war and you will, definitively, get five completely different answers. To each of these five people, there is A MEANING (e.g., it's so America can gain control of the oil reserves in the Middle East, it is to settle an old score, it is to vanquish the "infidels", it is "for the honor God", it is to line the pockets of the ruling, banker, secret society and further consolidate their control and power over the masses, and so on and so on) ...but, which meaning is "THE MEANING?" This is impossible to answer because you cannot convince all five people to hold the same interpretation or purpose....so if it means EVERYTHING, then it must ultimately mean NOTHING, right? Have I gone down the rabbit hole too far?? Je ne sais pas (you can thank Mrs. Burke, my high school French teacher for that brief, but awesome, foray into foreign languages!:) ).

As my old friend, Mel, used to say...Anywho....just had this on my mind and this is the place I chose to put it for now. A dieu mon amies (hey, there it is again!).