366 Words for 366 Days

To come to the end is not over

It just begins a new beginning

Laying in clover

Covered in the fine dust of

Living extra robust and

Breathing in the air of life

Filling the lungs full to

Capacity – the sagacity of

All of this is just starting to

Make an impression in the

Wet cement of my mind whilst

It dries out and creates a cast of

A memory derived and thriving

On that which can be anything

Conceived in or out of bed in

Your head – mind’s eye – seen

For what it is or was or what it

Can be – however – whomever –

Wherever as long as it develops

Blooms into the taxonomy of

Living large and in charge

Barging ahead as others gather

Theirs’ in a quest for quieting the

Sleeping giants within who have

Been sedated to deal and not keel

Over the hull of this vessel set

Sail in utero and birthed through

Various themes, devices, ideas and

Words, words, words – so good, so

Free from the guilt that surrounds the

Count down to “victory”… hasn’t the

Victory already come in the form of a

Quiet – so quiet no one even knew –

That this was it… “finishing is

Better than starting,” as long as there

Is a method to this madness – which

Witchy broom sweeps this up into a

Fresh frenzy of ideas translated into a

Multitude of numbers accounted for

At each and every line whether breathed

Or not – even if he so much as tries to

Figure it out or average it up –

Statistically speaking, how could I

Possibly lose to numbers that stare me,

All of us, in the face until we reach our,

My quota… even as my eyes begin to

Cross and I can barely keep my

Eyelids peeled like the frozen grapes

They resemble – I must ride this

Trusty steed to the finish line no matter

How long it takes to make it there –

When I do cross the line you and I will

Both know that it took each of these

366 words to get my point across

Even if it’s crazy - I find nothing lazy

To fault me for trying to accomplish

this GOAL!!!

#2

Touching a #2 pencil is
Like touching #2...
When you're constipated -
It's hard and scratchy and
It just stinks... you gotta
Force ideas out of it and
They just don't flow out
The pointy graphite tip.
Sometimes they get stuck
In the shavings inside the
Sharpening machine
Collected for the garbage
Not to be recycled...
Maybe.

Are these just the 1,002 steps
In the process of invention like
Edison's light bulb?

Phoenix Rising*

Rising out of the horizon
Fire aflame in her wings
Flapping furtively until
Touching the sky and
Taking flight to flit away to
Another time and place to
Perch upon a precipice
Precariously poised and
Ready to release the
Built up tension stored in
Her lungs - out it comes...
Exhaled on to the winds of
Change and she rises and
She rises and she rises and
She rises and supported by the
Surrendering of her wings
Embraced by the invisible
B
        r              e                  e
               e                z
                      
soars...

Memorial Day

Purple pulsates plumminess
Dripping down your chin
While lapping up soon-to-be
Summer succulence slithering
Blithely by in the breeze by the
Lake, languidly lazing in a
Bowl, pitted - dewy droplets
Embracing the small curvature
Of the cheery cherries skin
Before they meet their makers
On the incisors of many mouths
Welcoming the beginning of
Summer memorialized by
Memories of those who fought
We've since forgotten standing by
The Webber grills awaiting a
Tube steak or burger they no
Longer get to ingest because they
Were served a different meal of
Service to these United States.

Under My Control

It's so easy to get him
Under my control
Mind control
All it takes is a
Genuine
Gen-U-wine
Whine
Whined
Handwritten
Hand-delivered
Note of gratitude and
An adjusted attitude
On my part...
Start living like Him
Eat the fruits of the
Spirit and serve them up
On a platter of
"Thank yous" and
"You are the sweetest" and
Really mean it even though it
Goes against my sinful
Nature vs. nurture
What do I want the end
Result to be?

It's under my control...
Only IF I give Him my
Control panel and eat the
Spread He places before me
Even if it's humble pie and
An apology served to the one
Who doesn't deserve the
Food fight of inedible, moldy
Fruits thrown without warrant
Prompted by the devil.

Waving the white flag.
Please come to the rescue of me.
I surrender.

Funny Nun

I used to be funny.
I used to be fun.
Now that money
Is my god I run
From the sun.
I hide in the corners
Completely broke
As I choke on
The tears that
Collect the only
Interest I accrue -
Who ever knew
That loving'd be
So challenging?
No return texts
And barely a call
Unless he's at the
Door ready to
Come in and then
The plates start
Flying as I aim
For his head to
Knock some sense
In to his rather
Dense cranium -
He runs from
The truth or
Sharing his heart -
I open my mouth
And too much
Comes out -
I'm afraid I'm the
Problem... I've only
Made it this far
Twice before and
Was dumped.

I have lost my joy.
I have lost my boy.
We don't laugh
Together and I cry
When we're apart
Because I realize
I'm the problem
From lacking in
Trust - he seems to
Be hiding and I'm
In a cloud of his dust.

This is why I'm not funny.
This is why I'm not fun.
I'm working so hard at
Trying to be a nun...
None of it's working and
I feel like a crumb.

Chicken Nuggets

Parts and pieces conglomerated
Into the shape of a Christmas stocking
Waiting to have its toe dipped into
Sweet chili sauce - to swim around
A little before Santa delivers it
In the shape of a gift certificate above
The hearth where he slips "LiquiGlide"
Into the heart valves of millions of
Children and adults who are craving
And addicted to the addictive
Properties found in the crispity,
Crunchity, hot-with-grease
Nuggets they chomp to stop from
Actually cooking a decent, nutritious
Meal on Fridays...

Love Never Fails

"I want to hurt you the way you hurt me,"
I actually said this out loud to the one
I love... who loves and puts up with me
One day at a time - one issue at a time -
"It is to the King's glory to overlook an
Offense." And offend I have and
Overlook has my king because of his
View of our King - why do I collect
Debris, creating a debit list of offenses
So miniscule when I am the executor of
Said offenses? I am scared of loving and
Being loved and being hurt and hurting
The one I love - because all I've seen is
Failure and love not lasting... but my
King promises, "Love never fails."

I was crushed by my admonition.
As was he...
I may have spoken the truth... but
I didn't speak it in love... I have
Wounded because I was wounded
And the One who loves us both
Hurts for us to know and grow
More in love with Him and His ways
Instead of clinging to what we may
Have experienced, even if it's wrong
And twisted and warped - it's what's
Known - I'm known by Him and
Becoming known by him who wants
Nothing more than to love me
"Right" - I want to experience this
Love - he "always hopes, always
Perseveres." We can not fail because
We love and we will continue to grow...

Humanity

Letters and numbers these
We've been assigned the
Day we were born - they
Supposedly
Identify us - are unique like
Our fingerprints and set us
Apart to be counted.
Who do we count to or
For - are we counted?
Or accounted for when we
Are forgotten in the mix of
Numbers that indicate our
Order on the chain, linked to
A heritage of humanity not
Seeing how closely we are
Related because no one wants
To admit just how similar we
Are - the letters of our names
May not be the same - but we
All contain letters and numbers
Given at birth that set us apart to
Bring us together in humanity.

Sweet, Fresh Air*

Sweet may not be the best word to
Describe the smell that tickled its
Way up my nostrils tonight as
I walked to the water's edge...
It came from the chilly breeze
Wrapping itself around my bare
Legs as I pulled and readjusted
My poly-spandex polka-dotted
Skirt down around my naked gams
In order to breathe in and out the
Freshness from the frosty spring air
While praying to God for answers
For my life... love and otherwise -
Otherwise, i will continue to grope
About in uncertainty, bitterness and
Pain like the prickles that enveloped
My right foot as it fell asleep, pinned
Under my left gastrocnemius - not
Forgetting to look up at the sky and
Cry out for forgiveness in gratitude
For its already mine IF I grasp the
Truth and believe it applies --
The wind whipped and the chill
Squished out the heat, making the
Journey back to the car, and reality,
A little painful - but refreshing to
Feel - even if it hurts, it's true...
Like the distance between the stars
I saw through the light pollution of the
City I am struggling to call home.
Ahhh, fresh air!

Touchy Much?

Everything gets under my skin so fast.
He forgets one thing and "it's over!"
Why can't I just make up my mind to
Realize I am so amazingly blessed and
Yet I keep finding fault and specks of
Dust in his eye while bludgeoning him
With the plank sticking out of my face.

I felt on top of the world... yesterday...
And then today and one minute detail
Missed means he has stopped caring in
A little more than 24 hours!!

I am the problem. I need to change.
I will remain alone and in pain unless
I deal with me and how I REACT and
Act like a completely critical Cathy - the
Thorn in my flesh is IN my flesh - it's
My mind... it needs to be renewed by the
Renewing Spirit... I must let it enter and
Do Its job... it's a choice. Everything is...
Especially loving that which is not exactly
What I had bargained for but can become so
Much more IF I allow it to WITH faith.

The Chokes*

Dry and crusty
Filled with government
Issued protein slices
Flocked to out of
Routine for feeding
Time - a time relied on
Reliably delivered daily
Without question or
Judgment - judged by
What is lacking -
Has lacked due to
Birthing order... the
Order of the lives
Choking...
"Life without decency is
Unbearable..."* choking
On the chokes, choked
Down without as much as
A glass of water... and, yet
With gratitude and eagerness
As many days as they were
Delivered and not on a
Silver platter - just dis-
Played in the hands of a
Public servant - a requirement
Of the job - choking back
Tears, often delivering the
Only good news or meal
They'll see... for the longest.





*quote from the movie, Albert Nobbs.

Love...Mine...

Who knew it would take so much work, that
It would be a daily, moment-to-moment
Decision to love... to be in love and in turn
Allow someone to love me and all my warts.

I want to love my love's warts too... he has had
A hard time allowing me to - for fear of
Public
Displays of
Affection...
I kind of get it... I don't want anyone being
Voyeuristic, if you will, but I certainly don't
want to be left holding my own hand or the
Bag with my heart in it that gets snatched by the
Local bad boy who goes about smashing hearts...

Oh, the pain, and the rapture that love provides.

I have flown high on its chemical that has
Held me hostage and I have wanted to kill
Because of this same chemical... reaction.

And react - I do - to not being loved the way
I had hoped: with flowers, candy and little notes of
"I love you."
"You light up my life."
"You make me whole."

To carry on... do I need these?

I know I need honesty, affection, and
Good old fashioned laughter... love, too,
Obviously... for mine to last.

Rest in Pieces

500 per ream derived from the
Pulp of trees that once shaded and
Housed millions of beings.

Packaged for our consumption
Thoughtlessly, daily - package
Ripped open and thrust into the
Printer drawer - churning out
Documents that demand justice
For causes that don't support the
Pieces of paper they are printed on...

Sadly, forgotten for their support of
Numerous causes while they are
Unused, blank and balled up by students
Used as an unbouncing sphere sunk
In the circular file hoop where they
Rest in pieces in a non-biodegradeable bag.

Scandaliscious

How do we miss all the creative twists and
Turns of Shonda Rimes' characters housed in
Grey's Anatomy and Kerry Washington's
Perfect being? Just keep tuning in to be sucked
In to Taye Diggs' dark chocolatey guns and
Picture perfect sparkling smile of ivory held
Behind pleasingly plump lips awaiting the kisses of
Thousands of admiring fans and done by
Kate Walsh for weeks until the Bratt arrived and
Added yet another hunk to salivate over and
Become full of lust for - these "perfect" women
Getting to make out with these "perfect" men
Have ruined millions of viewers lives with
Disillusionment... the truth is, regardless of
How you look, LOVE is a lot of work and
Is a daily decision... now that's what I call,
Scandalous and it's quite scandaliscious.

Dr. Who?

What, who, when and where
Will I end up? In an alternate
Universe with aliens and other
Beings not of my human realm?

David Tennant or Matt Smith?

Who predicates what you see in
Your imagination? What you prefer?
English or more English?
Cockney or not? What is understood
Through the accent is not lost in the
Wonderful imaginings portrayed on the
Little screen of imaginations throughout
The Internet, PBS and BBC.

Bikes

Pedaling, pushing, and pulling
Using legs and feet to fly forward on
A little metal frame supporting a
Malleable frame of muscle, skin and
Bones - broken from flying over the
Handle bars trying to handle the
Competition of racing best friends
Through the neighborhood - landing on
Gravelly pavement - lodged into ankle,
Palms and head - knocked blind,
Only seeing clouds - asked name and
Date - George Washington, 1776.

Through the cloudy haze the look of
Fear upon Momma's face - she, the
Nurse - afraid for her flesh - then the
Release through laughter...
Name said, and real date, but question
Asked, "Will I be blind?"

Pedaling, pushing, and pulling
Using legs and feet to fly forward on
A little metal frame supporting a
Banged up frame through the halls of the
ER... Tour de France of the East Side,
Lost to gravity, concussion and pride.

Cookie

Cached in the memory bank
Photos, ideas, words and thoughts
Rummage around for an outlet
Not plugged into a wall -
Let out through the mouth,
Mind, heart and being
Just being crunchy enough to be
Pursued by a furry, blue
Sesame Street character...
"Me like!!"

Aliens*

Behind the invisible border of
Boundaries divided by skin color,
Drug cartels and their wars rage -
The wage paid is found in ditches
Between Mexico and Texas,
Headless, nameless corpses -
Some innocent and ignorant to this
Illegality of separation due to a
War raged long before they lived and
Died trying to thrive on the American
Dream they nightmared while Coyotes
Drove them toward their executioners as
Mules smuggling hope in bodies
Squished into spaces not even habitable
For una pulga+ - let alone fifty human
Beings - aliens, flying through space
In a UFO to a time and place that continues to
Disappoint because of borders.



+means: a flea

Subjugated

Having to wait and wait and
Well, wait - makes me feel
Well, subjugated by the judgmental
Face with the three differently
Sized hands winding around by
Seconds by
Minutes by
Hours passing so slowly when it
Comes to things that matter and
Quickly when drivel consumes...
Getting caught in the fray of time
Unwinds my mind because there is
No recapturing precious moments
Passed on the face wrapped around
My wrist, on walls, in analog and
Digital... looking at me through
Numbered eyes.

Space

Wide open spaces with
Faces that state,
"Why me? What have
I done to deserve this?"

Unanswered prayers hit the
Stratosphere where there's
Nothing but Black Holes and
Worms - wiggling their way

Into your psyche - leaving a
Vacuum, an emptiness -
A cavern alight with glow
Maggots - attached to the

Ceiling that your dreams
Crashed into and shattered
Into a million pieces - falling to
The ground below with others.

SHUT YOUR TRAP!

Turn it up - louder and
Louder still - drown out the
Annoying voices of knowing
It all - for you and everyone
Else around you.
How can someone know you that
Doesn't know you at all?
I've never divulged anything to
This know-it-all and it drives me
Up the proverbial wall to hear her
Voice because she just likes the
Sound of it - even though she has
Not asked if we even want to know
Her and all her business - we don't
Have a choice... the choice has been
Made for us... and anyone in earshot!

Yogurt

Cultured and smooth -
Cool and creamy -
Cleaning the intestinal
Track - it goes down
All around where the
Live and activeness
Keeps you moving
Through the "road" blocks
Of this life... many flavors to
Choose from - full fat or none -
Fruit on the bottom -
Mix it up and enjoy the
Lumps that offer sweetness
And delight all in spoonfuls
Shoveled in bite after bite.

Eek! Shower Time

I am learning to eek it out.
Eeking it out in life,
Wondering where I am
Supposed to be -
Who I'm supposed to be with -
And why I am where I am...
I've made a mess of my life...
Feel utterly left alone to my own
Devices, rusted over with
Disappointment and pain -
Watching as others' lives don't
Go down the drain like mine has and
Feeling absolutely despairing as
I continue to draw crap to myself in the
Form of people with their own crap that
They smear on me... I guess I've let them...
Where's the shower?

May Day

I sent a signal -
Shot it to the sky in
A prayer...
May Day!
May Day!
May Day!
Father, please
Come to my aid!
I need You to
Answer my cry for
HELP!

And the answer still
Doesn't come and
I'm stilled... only physically.

Cleansing

Is there a place of repose
To pose and hose off the
Scum of the day?
A place to breathe easy and
Kick back in order to
Function humanly again?
Then there are the times
Where even solitary confinement
Can't expunge the fumes that have
Permeated my being - deep
Down to the core of who I am.

Cinco de Mayo

My brain is crushed by the
Pounding of the upstairs neighbor's
Children they don't control...
Their stomp, stomp, stomping and
Run, run, running has left
Impressions on my head where
Migraines unfold... I try to imagine that
It's just a mariachi band banda-ing
Their way through a full set - margaritas
In hand, playing faster and dancing quicker -
All inside my cranium!

Ay! yi! yi! yiiiiiiiii! Make it stop; por favor!

Raindrops

Rain, watch it go down the drain...
Feel its caress smooth away the pain of
The day... like a baby's fingers finding
Their way to your cheek to hold you in
Their gaze... lovingly, the only thing
Not in vain - on the window pain
Mini puddles collect to reflect a
Look of refreshment... aaaahhhhh!

Shame

It's not a game when you're feeling the shame
Who is to blame for the pain in your brain?
Washed in the blood, clearing the stain to
Remember the hope of a brand new day.

Get up from down, turn it around -
Flee from the scene of being seen as a
Failure to self and nobody else - that's
What it does when it sinks in its claws.

Shame - not a game - a painful harangue,
Need to retrain the pathways with faith to
Turn it around for glorious days ahead in the
Arms of Love from above.

Peanut Butter Cookies

Peanut butter cookies slathered with joy
Eating 'em up - boy, oh boy!
Nutty with goodness; cruncy with love
Chewing and chewing till no more!
Warm and lumpy, milk sloshing them down,
The love of the cookie turns all frowns around.

Final Count Down

It's the final count down of
This blog... I haven't been
good in logging on and
Getting it done, but it has
Been fun through out this run
Of forced creativity.

What will be next - I can't
Really say... I am trying to be
Steady, but it's hard to play at
The game of love when there's
Very little romance and very
Little fun under the sun.

Keep it going so it will
Keep growing.
Over time and because of it
All will be fine - just fortify
Your spine to stand up under it