INCONCEIVABLY BLONDE....

Yes, I'm an Oingo Boingo fan. Yes, I love this song. Yes, I have so much to be grateful for. Like, laugh lines. Stretchmarks. Wrinkles and crinkles. Skin that sags more than is supple. Freckles on my face. Memories of all the joy and happiness and sunshine and laughter- mixed-with-seaweed and sea foam. Aches and pains, callouses to remind me how far I've come, where I've been, and "miles to go before I sleep." Tears, heartache, sorrow, loss, pain. Isolation, loneliness. Fatigue. Loss of hope. Loss of love. Loss of family. Loss of friends. Holding hands with ones who pass from this dimension onto the next, leaving me behind to mourn and carry on. Muscle memory, stored with the thousands of hugs and squeezes, and pats on the back. Also for bruises, scars, lacerations, tears from dog bites, car accidents, stab wounds, sports injuries and breaks, fights, rape, and other superficial yet traumatizing ticks of life's clock. After all, h

Seems logic has flown Reality has shown some mighty unreal hands as of late. But I hate to ramble on  and take up your time. It is what it is, after all,  according to stoicism --and news flash:  I'm the world's WORST STOIC. EVER. However, one concept that stands out  that I must better embrace is "Amor Fati--love it all" --in other words, take the bad with the good and love it all, however you can.    Damn, that's a hard one for me right now.  Learning to embrace the suck  right along with the stuff that almost sucks life away too...woo hoo!!!  Sorry, my rose-colored glasses  I nearly always wear  were steamrolled,  torched, and  blew away in a tornado  that tore through my life.   But, alas, life goes on,  and so must the show,  and so must I.   Time's the one thing  of which we don't have nearly enough. I should know. It's my business. To be in the know. To be able to show others  how to handle themselves when the time comes.

Hey everyone!  Yes, I know I've been gone awhile from here--I've neglected my creative inner voice. BUT, I have had some very GOOD REASON.... So, it's my birthday today, so I had to take some time to share what's been going on and to try to get my writing bearings back on track a smidge. Reflecting upon my life, my self, my situation right now, I'm just so dang grateful.  Truly.  What a ride it's been!  I'm owning up to several things now that I'd like to freely share in the hopes of either contributing to the generalizable knowledge base, or to add a voice to my experience that might help or encourage or somehow help others. I'm not perfect, I'm not fake, I'm not holier-than-thou.  I don't pretend to be anything other than authentic, genuine, and sincere.  Period.  Oh, and blonde.  Can't forget that, LOL! I try, I succeed, and sometimes I fail.  OK, lately, I seem to be failing a LOT! Even failure has a silver lining, as it

Special Note before reading further: I've pondered long and hard about sharing this, and for good reason. This is a very mature topic which is definitely provocative and not for everyone's taste....In the end, I felt I needed to share--to point out something incredibly powerful I learned from dabbling in affairs of body, heart, and soul.... I guess, in an odd way I'm sharing what happens when you don't follow what you know and feel to be true, just to see what happens...to see if the grass is greener on the other side...so it's a poem with a story and a warning. The road back to self-esteem, self-worth, and spiritual healing comes at a very dear price--while I'm forever grateful for the miracle of forgiveness and the Atonement, I honestly would never want to experience that journey again, nor would I wish it on anyone, if I could prevent it..... This was something I wrote after going through a very experimental point of my life, when I wandered and explo

This was written back in 1994, the very first time I truly dealt with death of a close loved one--my gran was everything to me at the time--not only was I her and my great grandma's namesake; but she had a way of making me feel like I was the most special thing on the planet.  She had a tradition of making afghans for each of her children, their wives, then her grandchildren, and then great-grandchildren.  She had made me mine the year before.  I went to see her two weeks before she died, and we had planned on my coming up again in a couple of months so she could finally teach me how to crochet so I could begin making afghans for my very own family someday.  Sadly, that never happened. Her death totally crushed me at the time--that was the very first time in my life that I couldn't stop crying...it wouldn't be the last, but at the time I thought it so strange and very intense....Ever since, I have had a very powerful spiritual connection with her, for which I'm profoun

Another oldie revisited...again, from another chapter in my life.... I miss you. I had that dream again last night. Whispers prickling, tickling surrender into the back of my neck. So real I giggled in my sleep. I miss you. Warming flushes sweep my thoughts, my face, my heart at one wordless moment. Trapped by the burning black of your eyes. So real I gasped into my pillow. I miss you. Searing, rhythmic velvet tracing, teasing, tormenting constant, gentle spirals of hot everywhere. So real I cuddle closer in bed to make it last. I miss you. Cradling me tight against you and the low, hot roar of your bike. Nuzzle my throat, my chest, my hair in the salty breeze. So real I breathe the fading warmth of the sunset. I miss you. Clearing the haze of memory at morning's light. Struggle to stay in your arms at the beach awhile longer. So real your smoky taste lingers on my lips As I lazily stretch awake. I want that dream again. I miss you. Writ

Look at me. Really. Look at me. When you look at me what do you see? Do you see what you want to see? Or everything I could be? Everything... except really me . Talk to me. Really. Talk to me. When you talk to me what do you say? "Come on over," or, "Go away!" "Do you want to come out and play?" Everything except "It's okay." Dance with me. Really. Dance with me. When you dance with me what do you do? Do you move how you want to move? Or do you sway to the beat and the groove? Everything... except you're in love. Listen to me. Really. Listen to me. When you listen to me what do you think? Do you listen as well as you think? Or do my moving lips wake up your kink? Everything. Except, I'm swollen pink. Come with me. Really . Come with me. When you come with me how do you feel ? Do you come undone as you start to feel? Or manage to keep both hands on the wheel? Everything...

I stand here, quaking, like those aspen you showed me, unfinishing the poem I cannot write. Quaking--to feel warmth in chilling breeze. Empty-handed, looking at Stars, wonder how they still manage to shine in the frigid night. Do You shiver in solitude? Can You get warm? Show me how.... I lie here, stroking my hair, like the wind in those mountains you brought me to, unfinishing the book I cannot read. Stroking--to feel passion in sterile room. Empty-handed, looking at Sunset, wonder how it still manages to paint vibrant on the dusty night. Do You  caress the land lovingly? Can You still feel? Show me how.... I turn here, streaming with tears, like that river we passed, unfinishing the song I cannot sing. Streaming--to feel whole in enormous bed. Empty-handed, looking at Waters, wonder how they still manage to surge through the endless night. Do You pour out your sadness? Can You forget? Show me how.... (For JMS, original draft 8/8/96

Mirror, mirror on the wall, can you tell me where I am? I've gone and lost myself somehow don't know if I’ll get back again. Get back to where I actually knew and felt and lived where I belonged. Where life was simple, good, not cruel or missing everyone else.  Just wrong . Mirror, mirror on the wall, can you show me how I am here? They've gone. I'm alone now. Don't feel I can begin again. Begin to feel I actually know  and feel. and live. Where I belong. My life uninterrupted…no,     it seems those days are long since gone. Mirror, mirror on the wall, can you show me when I am supposed to get a clue--right   now ? Don't know when I'll feel   me   again. Begin to feel myself allow, relax, unwind, let my guard down just enough for it to show before the tears come crashing down. Mirror, mirror on the wall, can you show me what I am trying to do-- as if you know . DON'T tell me it’s all right agai