ReRape

How innocent is a flower

after being plucked a half dozen times?

Or a snowflake that has already melted

on a tongue?

How rosy are the cheeks

of a Holocaust survivor during their camping trip?

Or a worn to the bone mother of nine

who can’t recall which end of the blush brush

paints her pale skin haunting

her prominent cheekbones?

How many pens can a victim use

to tell what you have done ?

Or pages of paper-tear stained paper?

How many hells will you endure

before and after your death?

I don’t care.

When Crying isn’t an Option but a Way of Life

I want to quit but don’t know how.

Fear flows from my head to heart to paper.

I never asked for this pain,

but I did the right thing;

Now I’m stuck like the tar baby.

I weep and moan, but no one hears-

not even my dogs, because I won’t let them.

I can’t let anyone see the real me.

There’s only one who would help, but he won’t.

Just one more day-everyone remarks.

What if that one more day is my last day?

This One is for the One I Love

I leap from jellyfish to jellyfish when I talk to you.

Never the same,

smack or kiss.

I am in my blue period of life, I guess.

What suits you? Anything I do?

You hate my freedom.

You hate my dogs.

You hate me. Maybe not on the surface but deep down where people don’t like to talk about sibling rivalry.

I was abused harder, but you had it worse, right?

Why is it always a competition with you?

Who cares?

You needle and needle and fucking needle, needle, needle until no one is happy. Everyone is in an uproar but you as you inwardly cackle.

You love it when a plan comes together! Your plan- no one else’s.

No wonder my brother hates me and loves you. Needle, needle.

Mom would be so disappointed and disapproving of you and your schemes.

You drive me to lunacy then let’s take a nap together.

Who are you like- Mom or dad?

God Is There

When your best poem is lost forever

And, your dreams feel like now or never

Is God there?

My God is there.

When your heart is closed and fully broken

When your love’s memory is just a token

Is God there

My God is there

When your Mom is gone when you really need her

And, your best friends are two furry creatures.

My God is there when the tears are pouring

When I want this life to end.

He is there when, after, and during.

He holds me in the palm of his hand

When I am unsure and doubting, He holds me again

When it seems like there’s no good reason

When despair lasts season after season

God is there

My God is there.

Featured

A Little Nitty Gritty Ditty

I’m dying

Inside

I ain’t lying

To hide

I see you coming for me

Mister Anxiety

Go

Fuck

Off

Turn your damn head

And cough

That’s right I got chesticles

And, I got you by the testicles

Got you in a vice grip

You try to move and I’ll rip, rip, rip

I break a chair over your back

To make up for all the things you think I lack

I repeat

Fuck you

Take a seat

You’re in for a treat

Believe me, I am for real

I won’t give up until

I’ve won

I’m done.

Poet’s Note: I have intense anxiety attacks. I’ve had a horrible one building along with a migraine for 9 hours. I missed an important appointment that I have been waiting for since spring. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and had to write it out. It’s a little better now; Of course I’ve had two doses of meds now and kisses from my service dog and support dog who are curled up next to me on the couch which is some feat considering that they are both big ass dogs. Please, excuse the foul language, but, if you have ever had a major panic attack, you understand. If not, deal with it. I think this would be a good rap, so I’m giving it to the best rapper I’ve ever heard, my friend, Ian Gabriel to do with as he pleases. With all of that being said, there’s one last thing…I’m out. Mic drop…

How I Love You So

I am so exhausted by seeing you one hour a week and wondering how you are feeling the time that I am alone.

Alone, stuck down here in hell where the Bible Belt hooks together.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that though I was ill and missed church again today. Darn Shingles! I keep breaking out from one side to the other back to the other. It utterly drives a person insane.

As do you, but I understand. You have a family there, and I am your family down here. I just miss you and your goofy smiles and belches.

I remember when you used to point Heavenward when you belched like this one is for the Barbie Dream House you forgot to give me, God. And, I would get so worried and challenge saying, “One day He’s going to come down here and ask you what your problem is!” And, you simply replied that you couldn’t wait, because you had some daring questions for Him. I knew what they were, Thea. I understand now, but now, finally, you two have made up. Yes, you and God are just like this (with two fingers crossed together, and I am the thumb way down here.

I miss you more. Being a decade apart, I have always missed you. I went into second grade; you went to college. I went to high school, you went to Yale. Finally, I finished my frosh year in college, and you went came home to get another Master’s. We lived together in an old, beat up, haunted house. The fun and funny years.

Then, David died. The fun stopped. You stopped being you for years that seemed like millennia. Our bickering became full fledged fighting brawls. And, Moreland came around. Life started getting better. Harry joined the group. Definite upswing! You had him at first blueberry muffin; you are the nose that nose and the cook that cooks.

When my now dead husband banished me to hell where we didn’t know a single person, then died two months later, you were there even when I wasn’t. Now, I am crawling my way back to Purgatory while you have lowered the rope. Between us, haven’t we covered every religion? Between us, haven’t we been through everything?

And, we never truly leave each other’s hearts.

Oh, my sister, how I love you so.

Pain Stings

The pain of not knowing fills my body like a breaking air conditioner.

It tries to cool you down but really just shakes and leaks and keeps you lukewarm.

Putting out little fires everywhere on your couches’ recliner with a warm comfy blanket and snuggling down with your two big dogs on you, trusting you, relying on you, and having to continually get up because someone texts and needs this or you forgot that. Soon, the sweet canines get up with lazy, confused faces and find a safer place to take their nap.

Betrayal is like when your best friend knows something that you think is seriously wrong with your health and when you are sitting there with your hair fuzzy and wet with tears, your long sleeve shirt she gave you in the summer is stained with tea because you have a partial bottom lip and can’t drink like a normal human and the capris she gave you are wide open for the world to see because the zipper broke the first time you wore them. But beggars can’t be choosers.

To me, pain is not 37 shots into your spine twice a week so that you can walk again or your father raping you when you are five or even your beating your head against the fridge because of writer’s block. Pain is your best friend trying to gain legal guardianship of you when you are a 49 year old woman with an IQ of 184 who just wrote a book.

Pain is an author trying to open her heart and no one quite gets it, because, then, you are alone.

My Forever Family

I look to the Heavens and what do I see?

The God of my Father’s smiling down upon me.

I look at my sister and what do I view?

A love so intense that, God, it reminds me of You.

I look at my doggies and what do I sense?

The protection of the Lord, my God of recompense.

I call my brother and what do I feel?

A fierce warrior that protects and You say “Peace, be still.”

I know my Mom is with me and what do I pose?

She is watching over me with you, Lord, the God who rose.

Any Given Saturday

I take a breath, and

you are there. A moment ago

it had been weeks, months, too long.

I breathe you in and my heart settles.

We eat pizza and you steal some of my ice cream. We have conversations with depth and life and frilly, silly girl talk.

It’s time to go back to towns we hate, places we despise the conditions of, folks we love.

I breathe you in.

I breathe you in.

I breathe you in.

Gone.