Tag: relationship

Categories
Poetry

lack of need

as in neurochemical warfare
this lack of need arises
I broadcast completeness
even as you redial your radius

do my cells respond differently
on this higher plane of functioning?
am I intimidating in this energy?
here, let me mix my mind with thee

let my coherent electromagnetic field
press through yours, transform the rooms
of your psychic home as I enter, invited
though I lack the vampirism you once desired

I do not fill voids, nor create them
I am expansion, a field of possibility
a humble being, deferential
do I operate in abundance?
                              yes! I do
do I create your potential?
                              no! you do

have I stepped into my power?
ever saying yes, ever saying no,
ever acknowledging limitless maybe sos,
feel my field around you grow
let it draw you in, ebb, flow
why resist?
           it is not your neediness
this attraction, enchanting pull
it’s purpose and purposeful
in this quantum entanglement,
                          there is always
fresh opportunity for plentitude
independent growth
                creation of abundance
with virtuous oath
        see this force of nature and rejoice!
rise to your own highest potential!

no one is responsible for me but me
there is no one for whom I lust or need
a statue of such purity
in body, mind, and speech is she
there is no one to save inside of me
don’t say that would threaten thee
for only strength could be my key

and please do not pretend to be
an interference pattern
to escape the thought of me
     and rocket off to Saturn
I do not plan to chase or run
for that is never any fun

I have no need for satisfaction
of temporary yearnings
I find kindness, love, and patience
offer far greater learnings

and yet!
     of course if proffered
it certainly would have me hot
                      not bothered

you want results?
just create causes
that’s what I do!
I show them the receipts
but keep my plans secret too

opt for resilience
growth and independence
never in childishness
    except in play, harming none!
       so plan to endure my completeness
                             and come undone!

our mission is not to fill holes or voids
       or other tedious contract work
but rather the happiness and joy
                        of sexy contact perks

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

never clingy, helpless nor hungry
never confusing love and greed
and still if you were simply wondering
I’m definitely a different breed
ever wishing to be free

and still not freed
from this lack of need

Categories
Poetry

Kinda feels like “going”

It always ends

     like a Robert Frost poem

he speaks
     in a language she does not understand

she tries,
     but he is wizened, suspicious

     innocence has no place on a tired vine
bird shit scattered over the fields

wash your produce, she says
           and he takes it all wrong
                   “What’s she on about now
                 I’m tired of it”

            he’s cracking, she’s cracked

yes, when we resign our wills
         to others,
                          when we bend

we believe we will not break
       until the ripping point is reached

will another aimless traveler
                    risk his life to rescue    me

or shall I unravel the web
              I’m caught in
      and escape myself

after all,
          there is no independent existence

Categories
Photography Poetry

The Rideau Canal | FF 17

I made you a picnic for dinner
many nights that week

You showed me where you used to live
with your last ex (there are many)

I’ve joined the lineup
and I’m not eager to see

our once-sacred spots shared, although
in hindsight, it was predictable

your memories still float, caught
in the historic locks of

the Rideau canal

Categories
Poetry

The Worst Thing

written in 2013

It’s selfish and conceited, but sometimes I like to think I was your worst.
I’m the little period in your life you swallow pills to forget.
I’m the worst thing to ever happen to you.

I kept you up all night, tossing in your bed,
while thoughts went ’round your head,
like:
who the fuck is she, and
did she mean what she said?

I’m a little piece of nightmare that got stuck in your dream teeth.
I’m the ghost devil on your shoulder, that you thought you’d shed.

Every so often you recall what I did,
and think:
shit, what did I get into, and
can it never happen again?

I was conceited when I loved you; I was selfish when I left.
I tossed words without abandon; I belittled what we had.

Misery loves company, was my battle cry.
I hung the phrase on all my banners, and
let harsh words fall from my lips.

Each second I felt scorned, I thought would be my last
Every teardrop that fell from my eye,
you knew I blamed on you.
I stuck a dagger in your chest, hoping to rake through
your ribs and crack them down to dust.

I love to imagine how I was the worst thing to ever happen to you,
and in that I will be immortalized.

I’m the slanderous tale told at the cabin, and ghost story for the young.
A cautionary tale of psycho bitches, and what can come undone.
A warning for your friends, a comedy for the bored,
a thank-your-lucky-stars-it-wasn’t-you for the unappreciative ignored.

I will outlive all the rest, based on my infamy of awfulness.

And then I feel downright bad.

Because I loved you in the moment. I treasured what we had.
I trusted every word you spoke, believed each lie you said —
I think we both did —

and when I started believing I was the
worst thing that could happen to you, that I was crazy and insane,
I ran away and still blame you, even if it’s all in vain.

Because I was the worst thing to ever happen to you.

Categories
Dreams Firescape Fridays Poetry

Port McNicoll | FF 16

Winter 2020, a dreamlike recollection

Recalling a Midnight Walk in Port McNicoll

Help me shed 
my exoskeleton

I feel like like setting something on fire
I feel like crying
I feel like creating
I feel like destroying

Port McNicoll
cold night
walking in the dark
see the stars
hear the crunch
forged by footfall
don’t slip on that ice there
crunch crunch crunch
silence punched
with pursuit
breath audible
visible
in the dark
rub my eyes 
to clear the dark
crunch crunch crunch
two people making one
set of tracks in the snow
around the inlet now
find the path
to the narrow
a strip 
no longer tying boats
to a bustling port
just dried up 
riparian plants
taking their
liminal space
beneath the snow
grounded by ice
liquidated by spring

I feel like setting myself on fire
I feel like filling my pockets with rocks
and following the wolf’s path
though already a rebirth of her future
still struggling
same shit
different lifetime

I have a lot of
feeling

I feel a lot of 
energy
inside but it wants
to escape
a timid body 
no longer sufficient
material 
for a growing
energetic field
unknowing
that it’s simply
a trap of 
attachment
to retain such runty residence
wanting to scream into the night
finally
screaming into the night

Port McNicoll
cold and still
crunch crunch crunch
snow changes to gravel
and we have found
piles and piles
now we need to climb or run
to keep moving forward
I’m the Queen of the Castle
I’m the King of the Castle
you’re the dirty rascal
YOU’RE the dirty rascal
made true by the rusty
sand on his face
dust on his clothes
so much gravel here
we wonder why they
wanted to convert 
the cleanest aquifer 
in the world
wanted to subvert
sustainability
for another gravel pit?
Did they get dust in their eyes?
Have they so quickly forgotten the ruin
of the planets they abandoned 
after their resources ran dry?
Or is the pleasure of the kill?

A Great Horned angel in the night
hoots his rendition of
Something in Blue

We long to hear a duet
but it’s a solo performance tonight
a prophecy in part
if not a command
one not heeded for a year still

I am pretending
I’m a superhero
free of mundane existence
but feeling the
weighty entrapment 
of earth life
human wishes
and someone else
constantly trying
to attach his leash
to mine
though I’ve
already 
been cut free
he can’t see
and
I can’t see
the further I run
the further he follows

I am searching for a memory
within this memory
5 years old
visiting Grandpa at work
he has an office
on King Street
Mom points to pigeons landing on the balustrade
rooftops next door
we’ll feed them outside
I like Newton’s pendulum on the desk
3, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1, 1, 1
concentration born from curiosity
and then starved
can’t last
so I flip the bubbler upside down
and watch the trellis of weightless 
globes travel against gravity
and perhaps my airy nature 
too yearns to excurse upstream
while pretending I was first
to swim against the current
last to observe
salmon beside me
same difficult journey
they got there first
yet
diluted to desk ornament
just the same
ultimately for
one other pocket’s 
profit

Port McNicoll
cold night
walking in the dark
catch glimpse of the stars
favourite constellation
shines down
three suns his belt
Orion poises his arrow
toward the next step
I take
not out in the lake
the mild wish
nothing compared
to enlightened craving
this time ’round
why are we like this
I want to cry
without replicating the search 
for why
negative feelings arise
in my perfect life
hauntings of a past
I’ve not lived
being just twenty-five
so where does it come from
hoo-hooooooot
sings the night
as tears sting my eyes
crystalline drops fall
tried to outrun him
so he can’t
see me
small

For this emotion
it broke me
I could not comprehend
why my mind became crazy
and I couldn’t defend
my inner wisdom being
so delicate, so fair
trampled to pieces
with curses, warfare
self-sabotaging poisons
injected nightmare
mind became muddled
emotionally impaired
reason deceptive
self-cherishing deceit
reason defective
self-deprecate, repeat

Port McNicoll
still and cold
never felt one 
could feel so old
he stood beside me
tried to take my hand
I hated myself and 
my life so unplanned
I couldn’t regret
the good things I gained
but it’s still hard to forgive
the way I chose to behave
and still sometimes continue
to choose bad over good
and without self reflection
feel so misunderstood
until a burning desire
a need for change
drove me out of the house
and into the street
just his following footsteps
held me down
from behind
I’m still grateful for
how patient
how kind
he was
most times

Just the 
one thing 
he and I 
could not fathom then
was how witchery brewed
when he denied my freedom
“It’s not safe” or “I’m lonely”
I longed to ignore
silly cries of unjust fear
thrust upon me once more
those were never my fears
just the cage just the light
always pinned down
always in sight
created madness such madness
the introvert curse
visibility birthed insanity 
death couldn’t be worse
some time to heal
a winter alone
a fire for warmth
all others gone
only in such
secret silence
can I recuperate
my song
only in secret
stillness
finally, raison
wisdom
sensibility
freedom from earth
release from silly senses
imagination rebirth
writer’s block lifted
hateful stories destroyed
my reality shifted
compassion deployed
a new strength within me
to combat the old
and at last my destructive 
tendencies controlled

Yet
if the process isn’t
respected
or worse left
ignored
the insanity boils 
despair restored
reason deceptive
self-cherishing deceit
reason defective
self-deprecate, repeat
energy overflow
must go somewhere
to make a living punching bag
not at all fair
it’s time to heal
and how is that done?
questions I should have asked
before I moved on
lacking foresight
seeing only the past
heart break by hindsight
present don’t last
soon gift is gone
life moves too fast
future moments with him
I lost too soon
tortured by choices
a steed of Doom

When the energy
comes shaking
my rib cage vibrating
a hungry ghost
screaming from within
a need for destruction
as I can’t face the fear
I can’t feel the sorrow
As anger burns thin
It just turns to tears
Though I long to clear-cut
Whole forests with the rage that I feel
I simply toss a rock to hear
the splish splash splunk
in frigid water
or tin cold plunk on
and not yet through
the ice

Port McNicoll
empty and cold
brought me to my knees
made me feel so old
first so angry
then so blue
first shaking with rage
then wrung-out-rag-used
perceived imprisonment
before breaking loose
restraints granting rope-burn
inebriated bickering to sober truce
rebuilding future
from broken past
always keen dreamers
’cause madness don’t last

Lifetime different
but shit the same
struggling still
future rebirth already
though, virgin’s path following 
and rocks with pockets filling feels
fire myself, sun setting, like I feel

Madness, an exoskeleton
help me shed
shed my help

Categories
Poetry

Worn Out

You thought I was slipping you
on and off, like a worn jacket
but I had carved you on my soul
a long time ago, so you were –
are – always with me

If only you had respected my needs
not the ones you wished I had,
but my actual needs, I think
I could have fulfilled your desires
had they been anything more
than temporary, but you didn’t carve
stories and you had no
purposeful plan

Even Bonnie and Clyde
had a plan

Now I’m rinsed like dishwater
and you’re onto the next old bag
easier, to escape, when you
can attach yourself to star light,
star bright the gasses burn tonight, fast,
and you’re quick to eat it up, put it out

It’s naturally sick you play the songs
at the beginning that we’ll sing
at the end … your poor girlfriend
how many nights she’ll spend
waiting for you …

If I believed in God, I’d beg
may He have mercy on you both

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

Lost harvest | Session 10

The fruit on our vine has withered
        I long to cut it down, but something stops me

I feel you lurking, breathing on my neck,
  wishing I hated that 
    now unpleasant sensation

You keep appearing to me as a vision
          at my window, at work,
across the road, getting gas or 
                                      exploring knee-high weeds,
                             observing afternoon-hot walls

Summer stinks of memories, snorkeling,
     the big bug ID book, hidden peacocked notes

Hot days soothed with cold water and
         indulgences rare opportunities afford

Not appreciated and never found again

I couldn’t stand to be with you now,
   experiencing anew the arrows of your delusions

So why do I crave you at all? Am I so plagued with
                       inappropriate attention and my own maras?

Cutting the wizened fruit, so something
                  new can grow, still seems undoable

With a heart full of love, wishing for non-
                     attachment, I observe

You’re hard to let go.

Categories
Conception Statement Resource Wednesday

Out of my League | WR Issue 6

Looking for a way to judge if your crush is worth upgrading? Looking for a way to analytically rule your heart with your mind? No?

I’m here to help anyway!

Throwback to one of my favourite shows, The League – good ol’ programming just not fit for today’s climate. (If you don’t know the show, look it up for reference):

In episode two of season four, Pete introduces his fantasy football draft “system” – then he explains how it applies to women too. Giving them plus or minuses for different attributes (ex. beauty +2; gets up early, big -1; already taken -2) to help him decide if he needs to …pick up a different player from the waiver wire.

When Pete finds out his old friend Sutton becomes single – ergo on the waiver wire – he decides to try and pick her up. She certainly has the attributes he’s looking for. Little does he know, Sutton has a system of her own – and Pete is running against Taco. Check out the episode. It’s great.

Inspired by this clearly flawless logic, I decided to make my own version of Pete’s system by designing the Ideal Lover Scoresheet – and then I decided to make it available to you! (If for a laugh 😉 )

[Example Scoresheet]

Of course, this is an example scoresheet. Yours may look much, much different. For example, on mine I’ve added “likes Lord of the Rings” in the “Nice-to-Have” category (+2).

What are your must haves? Deal breakers? Share below!

Categories
Poetry

Womb of Time

It seems silly to confess such a vision
now, after so much time has passed

But such an image must be released

Like milk gone sour in the fridge,
flushed chunky down the john

How I would have followed you endlessly
how I’m built to follow, as a soldier
chivalrous in bruised armor, undefeated

Though appearing a king, I act a knight —
two forward and one over, L for loser
let’s invent our own games instead

How in my dreams, I submit my strength
in trusted servitude, loyal to my last breath
I am the lion that lays with the lamb

I follow you through fields, under stars, three hours
from home, flashlight in hand, owl calls on a speaker
hung from the lower branches of the pine

The air, cold and damp, presses us together
in scientific embrace and present ecstasy
end of winter love, blooming with spring

I follow you into the tent each night,
our bodies pressing squeaky air out of the mattress,
our throats downing iced coconut water, before each other

Our fingers feed furred friends before midnight,
Touch each other until dawn, pop and squeeze
tickle, tease, and cook together each morn

I follow you across the province,
each step a wish for you to accomplish your dreams
in my fantasy you have aspirations, and you name each one

Before bed each night, you whisper fairy tales to my closed eyes
All the places we’ll live and all the beings we’ll help
the examples we’ll set – no one will kill a spider again!

I follow you to a reinvented world, our happiness laid
bare and bearing only arms of peace, love
the kindness of your hand on my face,
              the warmth of your embrace

I follow you from lake to lake –
I pack dinner for us to take and barbeque
watching the sunset over rough waves
                            washed smooth in the dusk

Though the water’s cold, and I know not its depths
my hand in yours, I dive, snorkeling for the first time,
submerged skin sensations new to my airy nature

I follow you down sandy coastlines,
metal detecting or searching for pretty stones
collecting materials, like magpies, for our nest

I follow you through ups and downs, hardships and
some celebrations do offer return on investment
I like you just the way you are, in spite of anxiety

I follow you until it’s dark, and you begin to fade away
and when this imagination ends, I know you do not stay

Because it was my vision, not yours

Categories
Poetry

Misplaced Grief

I thought my pain was due to his absence
yet the delusions arose in his presence

my uncontrolled desirous attachment
formed unfulfilled relationship wishes

I no longer sensed the man behind the mask
begging for a freedom he refused to imagine

loathe to face the grim consequences
of his actions, or their lack