I’ve been in a lot of relationships where things have been broken…
Things that I’ve bought; things that I’ve earned;
been given, gifted-
…learned.
But bones often heal and time-
Well time, it blurs the edges…
Now I’m finding myself in a lot of situations where things are being restructured…
Things I’ve been taught;
things that I’ve chosen;
been given, gifted-
…learned.
But hearts often heal and experience-
Well experience, it sharpens focus.
I always knew…
“Home” was a concept.
A prompt for activating
our programmed roles;
encouraging participation
in self-fulfilling prophecies (of doom).
Leaving me homesick
for a dream I’ve never dreamt.
Home.
Home is now known to me-
Known to be a feeling-
An intangible worry stone,
Now carried with me-
At all times;
Anchored by plasmic goo.
The moon was never gone;
just beyond your view.
Behind clouds,
behind earth.
Making silent moves;
effecting the tides.
All the while;
cycling back to you.
I found myself there-
In that place, once again.
The cavernous mermaid lagoon;
a familiar yet frightening place; bound.
It was curious really-
Realizing where I’d arrived.
When by consciously avoiding-
My unintentional destination found.
Only for a brief moment yielding-
Like Yeats’ siren:
In cruel happiness I’d forgotten-
That even lovers drown.
Tell me that you’re happy,
Never say that you love me.
Words and wishes
often curse-
Much better to be left unsaid.
Have you ever written out timelines of your own life?
First by years then by months-
Sometimes even “best guessed weeks”?
Did the subcategories become laborious and deserving of a separate time line?
No?
I met someone who had lived in the same house,
Their entire lives.
From birth.
I bet they never put something in their bedroom…
Then later have to recall which bedroom…
Then tear apart another room to find it,
swearing it was there, once.
Hmmm.
Did you live in the same house for years?
Have you lived in less than 5?
What’s your memory like?
Is it chronologically fractured?
Do you use music or scent or season to place you; or
What you were wearing-
because somehow that is easier to recall?
When you think back over your life, is it like a whole movie?
Or is it like thousands of movie scenes squished into a 27 x 40 poster?
Do you have to cross reference your life against journals?
Poetry books?
Partners?
Jobs?
PASSWORDS?
No?
Huh.
Do you spend time analyzing, retroactively, like a cold case detective…
Maybe leaning a little tinfoil hat looking for “the conspiracy root?”
Yeah, that would be crazy. Whoa.
Ok ok- what about looking, in hindsight for curiosity sake;
for the things you missed, you know, back then?
No?
What about considering other timelines- multiverses and sequels-
A director’s cut or potential alternate endings?
Still no?
Huh.
Me either.
Lately I’ve been “nesting.”
Chasing serotonin and conviction- reclaiming my own curtilage.
And yet, entertaining;
Fellini-esque fantasies.
While balancing the romantic…
with the absurd.
Still, fantasies indeed are dangerous things.
Particularly;
when one feels unchallenged or complacent…
It’s easy to believe that things mean more-
Connections or kismet or fated-
too often just a novel distraction
They would soon grow bored of…
He gave her his heart,
she gave him a pen.
Is it ever real?
Too often oxytocin fueled.
And hypervigilance gives way
To resolute avoidance and/or
The altruistic conundrum-
there is no unselfish deed…
And like she said, “perhaps…”
I’ve already had my chance for that type of happiness.
Nonetheless, a growth mindset.
Endeavor to be present.
Stay the course.
Self actualize myself.
Alone is not so bad.
Lonely is much worse.
Photo from: www.shopstudiosisters.com
Few can see eternity while standing in humble awe,
Under an illuminated galaxy.
Stargazers over lifetimes,
Recognizing kindred spirits whilst acknowledging divergent paths…
Hopeless romantics, becoming fewer and farther between…
Stifled by noise and light pollution;
Subconsciously choosing to experience the taste of duty-
An assumption of desire to participate in the conditioned path.
Following breadcrumbs to the witch’s sanctum;
Below the vastness of time…
Like a homing beacon- they await a conjunction in a retrograde.
Guided only by energy and the moon;
Moths drawn to the undying light-
Second star to the right, and straight on til morning.
Maybe it’s my Aquarius-Pisces cusp
But… I am a fickle bitch.
I want my cake and to eat it too-
But only when I order it
And have it delivered
To my door.
I love being alone
Resent a constant presence
Reductively- I’m an Introvert playing house
With myself- I wanna be mama
I wanna be daddy
I wanna be cool aunt Jackie
Dependent on no one
Ish
And still…
I hate playing house
I don’t wanna be home
I want to travel
Explore
Create
All the things others have already done
I live it through word
See it on film
Feel it in song
Saved and trapped in my own mind
And so it goes-
Filling in the grooves
Forty years worth of trail
Diverting energy into other paths
Finding comfort…
And yet-
Still aching for the familiar
Just like any addiction
Trying to recognize triggers
Slippery slopes
Of thoughts
And experience
Both imagined and endured-
Blowing up my siblings’ phones
To discuss a season’s tears
Lament each other’s losses
Never sharing joy
Leaning towards each other
Each other’s external hard drives
Fact checking my memories
Offering observed insight
Spoiler alerts.
I hate the unknowing.
I Google you.
I Google me.
I Google what season do they die?
I like to test myself
Create:
challenges to survive;
Patterns to predict;
Chances to trust myself
And fail
But in ways most cannot see.
It’s funny to me.
All things I want(ed) to be-
A singer
A plumber
A poet
A mom
A lawyer
A wife
A woman
An archaeologist
A detective…
And here I am.
Alone- but not really.
Just…
Mercurially Me.
It’s a heavy realization:
Reflecting on 39 years
And discovering:
YOU ARE…
You are the most prolific liar in your life…And always have been.
Personally, I can convince myself that everything is true;
Okay;
Perfect;
Rational;
Fated;
“The right choice.”
Rarely am I telling myself the truth-
Especially not in my head.
“Navigator” is an important role…
But so is “Driver”.
Both must give up control of many aspects…
But trust that both intend to arrive at the agreed destination…
Hope; that both travel in the same direction…
at similar speeds…
attitudes and road games can cause wear and tear…
upon both the vehicle and the occupants…
GPS often requires signals that can get lost…
Sometimes you just need to pull over and look at the map.
Wanderlust inside my genes-
you understand yet I can’t explain it.
Tattooed myself a compass rose;
even had the words planned out.
Magnetic north was elusive,
my needle was never static.
External fields always moving-
such chaos was attractive.
I froze.
Slowed like aging sap,
now Amber;
just a little rub gave charge.
Attracting lighter temporary adhesions;
Electra complex?
Electrostatic relationships-
Air signs catch the abstract thoughts
as Pisces pump them out.
Ironic; anemia causes magnetic susceptibility, ha.
Riding ferrous peaks and valleys
Manipulated by polar changes
Strange- the sensation of a covalent bond…
I had forgotten I like chemistry, what attraction!
Atoms search for more stable states…
as within, as all around.
Pouring myself into you,
I became more positive and you,
You became more negative.
No longer just Gilbert’s permeable membrane;
It has become more selective.
Osmosis nearly dried me out,
close the circuit then give back-
a constant flow of electrons
now is crystalline;
Translational symmetry.
I want an ionic bond.
Self imposed and static inertia
My late onsetted grief
Such Purgatory bliss
Risk mitigation, of course.
Overthinking; the norm
Underwhelming; the courage
Delayed ejaculation
Fervor of imagination
Just waiting;
Waiting;
Waiting;
What?
Boundaries blurred
Panic heightened
Lining up to begin and yet
Wishing to know the end
Mine, yours, ours, we.
Fucked it all; royally
Friends, family, strangers, lovers.
Crossed the lines, dot those tees
Stars fall, moons rise
Watch the secrets
In all their eyes
Breathe in, blow out
Fear first, then doubt;
Doubt;
Doubt;
Next!
tunnel vision
carousel copse
dapples dancing through
Corporal light
then focus
Wylie Lane?
blurred like wind
on water
flight
edges lost in memory
plays
Donnelly?
a temporal shift
rift
the place where reasons haze
where I wanted to be
Home
where you are
not when
untethered
searching out my constant
382 is 1444
unintended transparency
grasping wanting more
the fucking Witter factor…
questing for a restore point
Rose Hill? Latah? Helen Street?
syncope
half forgotten Arms of Ponderosa
seeking out the Coastline
drowning in the Fathom
the inevitableness of you
subsequent fear of losing it
now found
an unavoidable event horizon.
And it’s only now, that I get it.
Naivety and overconfidence. What a combo.
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
~ William Wordsworth
From one Pisces fish to you.... 