Presence

Presence, presence it takes time to be present to practice presence requires presence it costs to be present demands sacrifice to be present steals from selfishness to be present gives to be present it feels lonely to be present I feel less alone when present Life is brighter when present and yet I fear to…

the crucible

We will not always be this alive nor shall we always be this dead A certain dread descends when imagining true life, in perpetuity knowing that we must be pressed through the most costly crucible of all death (alludes us) transports us to life.

“Social Media”

The social aspect is a bit misleading, as alienation is the true intention (clandestinely) ostracized, chastised, brutalized “for sake of community” the desire to make it my peace breaks down into a desperate and egregious nightmare THERE IS NO PEACE HERE.

No show

no show no, show. presence is needed to make this worth it yet, no showing (no kidding) brings elation, even as disappointment shrouds this subtle joy, for in absence, discipline diminishes defeat lords eagerness wanes laziness paralyzes the desire to learn is for a brief time, vanquished.

Thanksgiving

How to abide in contentment, frugality, even? when my heart so consumed by enticement of things, can barely rest, no less, possess, the capacity to really thank, appreciate.

maternal scoffing

I never anticipated the judgement and disdain we mothers fling at one another’s face their backs their ears never hear the malice and scoffing that they’re a worse mother than she and she and of course, me.  

morning naps

The end of an era you peacefully abided in silly little dreams and snuggles, unchided but now you revolt and there is no rest in sight morning naps are over much to your delight.

Our Taste of Heaven

The familiar drive down our street will be less exciting now the trees will have shed their luscious color and all that will be left is dullness. your home, our home which had brought so much luster to our souls has also withered dry memories linger of each year we came year after year, with…

You were here

You were here I seem to misunderstand or, desire to shield myself from the truth that you were present in our birth and crying nursing and nurturing our trips and fights our delights and sorrows our moving and staying you were always here until you disappeared from our eyes never to see your gentle, amiable…

my body and soul

The sorrow for not feeling sorrowful: what a laughable paradox, in light of the pain we have experienced. My body and soul, psychosomatically unified and opposed, will disallow me to rejoice in joy for not being persistently and acutely despairing.

less pungent

I don’t think of you as I used to. the routine we once had has been so changed and adapted that the sting is less real, less pungent but, the guilt arises (and sorrow, too) for not feeling bereaved at each mention of your name as, yes, I once had.

do you deceive?

Do you deceive as though we are fools? If that were so, a slippery slope we would plunge for perspicuity seeming obvious is a fundamentalist’s cry an enlightened mind would dare not utter but you said you made and sustained and raised and more, saved. were that not true and you betrayed us, we are…