Thursday, December 30, 2010

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas!


I always picture you running.

Not in fear, or to get away,
But the way I used to watch you run the track when we were young:
Head held high,
Chest thrust forward almost comically.
All your movements are precise and efficient.
Your blond hair trails behind you wildly trying to keep up.
You carry a soft slight smile,
That your lips perfected years ago.

You are one of the strongest women I know.
Even through the obstacles, you run with power.
I don't always know how to help you...
You move so fast.
Even your thoughts move faster than mine.
But in the low points,
Know that your running will take you to great places.
Pace yourself, beautiful sister.
You will get there.
And I will be behind you, trying to keep up.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Pillow Talk

Tell it to me slowly.
Tell it to me sweetly.
All your little secrets and thoughts are treasure in my ear.
Your voice makes colorful circles in my head.
We laugh at our own stupid jokes.
I giggle all night, at our own private stand-up comedy.
Don't hold anything back.
Tell me everything.
It's all beautiful.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Things Fall Apart

Things fall apart.
It is destiny.
No; it is fact.
Life un-strands itself, thread by thread.
The order we once knew becomes disheveled.
New generations change history.
Children lose their innocence.
Houses begin to show wear.
Virgins rarely stay that way forever.

There is no escaping change.
You can try to fight it, but few win that battle.
You can try to deny it, but you will be considered a fool.
Order turns to chaos.
Treasures become broken.
There are very few constants.

Things always fall apart,
But You hold me together.

"It is more difficult and more bitter when a man fails alone."
- Chinua Achebe, Things Fall Apart

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Sunday Decadence

The smell of fresh cut spruce
Crushing an empty egg container with my feet
Lazy Nap Time
Cuddling with the man I love
Cuddling with the boy I love
Little, big feet on my kitchen stool
Gingerbread cookie cutter art
Fireside loving
Chocolate ice cream with fresh raspberries

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

My Exhausting Affair

I have a deep rooted love affair with language. I am mesmerized by the way words can be tangled and weaved into something amazingly beautiful. I could spend hours sighing over the colorful arrangement of letters and sounds. My secret "little black book" is a list of literature I plan to read or have read; a list of previous love affairs tucked discreetly in my purse. I get carried away sometimes with the simplest quote or witty statement. It sweeps me off my feet. Shakespeare in his time probably could've had his way with me.

I'm a word connoisseur, my cruelest critic. Nothing ever seems perfect enough. Nothing is ever finished. I can't even find the perfect prose to describe this exhausting affair.

"Look at you fumbling over the right things to say... and you call yourself a poet." I mumble to myself.

Sometimes this blog forces me to create and other times it forces me to "publish" what I believe to be intolerably flawed. I read it over and over shaking my head. My heart jumps as I push the POST button. Instantly it appears on my blog. I want to take the words back again, like a call you wish you had never dialed.

Emily Dickinson was once told, "Your poems are quite as remarkable for defects as for beauties and are generally devoid of true poetical qualities."

I often speak the same words to myself.

However, the passage of time turns literal crap into beauty. When I read something I wrote five months ago, I'm transported to that exact moment of emotion. I can feel exactly what I was feeling when I first wrote those words. That is why I keep punishing myself with this love affair. By carefully building word and phrases, I can make something meaningful. It helps me remember. It makes me stronger.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Vomit Haiku

It's three thirty-five am,

Why did I order calamari?

Head in the toilet.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Promises Forgotten

Packing up leftovers from Sunday afternoon,
Cold potatoes and promises forgotten.
It's so easy to get lost.
I used to be confident in myself,
In my relationship with God,
In my inner beauty.
I promised myself that wouldn't change.
I've promised God so many things...

Maybe in the fury of being a great co-worker, friend, wife, and mother,
I lost the stillness and quiet that brings me closer to God.
My meditations used to be of higher things then bathroom floors and roasted chicken.
Where do you go to bring you back to yourself?
Do I make another promise, or do I push on and hope that at some point,
I'll be able to take time for self-reflection and happiness?
I wish there was a recipe to bring me back to the woman I want to be.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Havre de Grace

Everyone occasionally plays the fool. No matter how careful we are, there is no escaping it. Not even vast wisdom can save us from our own folly. Even Solomon was a bad father with a weakness for women. I never got an epiphany of wisdom. What are my chances? It is easy to lose face and even hurt someone when you don't want to.
Can you forgive my mistakes? Even when I get lost at sea, you pull me into your harbor; tie me down and keep me steady. I am accepted and even loved; not in spite of myself, but because of myself. Somehow when you kiss me, the world rights itself. The storm calms and I am bound again in your harbor of grace. So kiss me now, the way you have a hundred times. With a light hand on my chin, you say it all: even in my foolishness and stupidity, you love me.
We've both made mistakes. We both have regrets. When we are together it is as if our inadequacies fulfill us. Together rights are wronged. Maybe you are my epiphany of wisdom. You always know how to put me in my place. You are my Solomon, my love.

"Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
Like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot wash it away."


Friday, June 18, 2010

In his eyes

Everything is amazing in my son's eyes. Small, simple things excite him. Little, silly things make him laugh. Sometimes I wish I could get a glimpse of the world through his eyes. He delights in the way pebbles feel when his little feet walk across them, then he'll spend 30 minutes inspecting and sorting the same pebbles. He marvels at a pile of tiny ants. The other night he ran over and kissed a tree for no reason. Sliding down a slide is never boring. Puppy kisses are never disgusting. Feeling a mist of water in his face is pure delight. My son stops to smell the roses and then he will smell them again and again. I am so glad he is in my life. Even though going his pace can make things a lot slower, it makes me take the time...
to sort rocks,
and kiss trees,
and giggle.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Anything is Possible

And so it is June.
All the possibilities of summer are at our feet.
I feel as though it is already slipping through my fingers.
Let's grab all the goodness of summer,
Suck it up with the squishy strawberries and keep it warm in our bellies all winter.
Let's go as fast as we can and breathe as slow as we can.
Let's feel everything that is possible and still have the opportunity to feel nothing at all.
I wish I could steal June away like a hostage.
It could be like the bathroom sign we once stole on vacation: a secret souvenir to make me smile.
I wish I could keep Summer in a drawer somewhere,
I could pull it out whenever I needed to feel like anything is possible.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Things I'd love to say

It is a common joke around my friends that I say whatever is on my mind, no matter how embarrassing or ridiculous. This is not entirely true. I am much more guarded at work, then I am around my friends (for good reason). I'm learning to be guarded about what I say around my son. There are tons of things I want to say, but my better judgement holds me back. Despite what my friends say I do somewhat guard my words. I may put my foot in my mouth, but I try not to be rude. It's hard to hold back. Sometimes it builds and I have to push my lips together so the things I want to say don't slip out.

So I am releasing all these things I've held back in one strange post, to clear my jumbled head:

Please just leave me alone.

You really deserve to be with someone better.

You've gained a lot of weight, girl. Do want to borrow my exercise DVD's?

Your kids are completely out of control!

You are kind of creeping me out, dude.

This tastes disgusting!

Don't call me "sweetie or "honey" you chauvinistic prick. (accompanied by a heal grind into his instep)

At the risk of sounding corny, our relationship means a lot to me.

You should be nicer to your wife/husband.

Oh yeah! I totally beat you! I am the queen of the universe. Wooo! In your face!

Don't take this the wrong way, but you are so hot!

Sorry, I am right and you are just plain wrong.

Palease... Get off your high horse!

I love you.

Ahhh.... I feel better now! I can now go back to being polite and slightly guarded. Hopefully my moment of uncensored purging doesn't make you think less of me.

Monday, May 24, 2010


I need to have little pieces of insanity in my life. It helps me feel alive. At times I am pretty quirky or eccentric or maybe just strange. It's that craziness that keeps me going. Those moments of insanity keep me smiling and laughing. I think in some ways everyone needs a few moments to be illogical or crazy. For my husband, these moments are categorized as "guy time." My craziness is not as defined; it is integrated into my everyday life. Painting to me is a small form of insanity. I make small impressionistic dashes with my brush and hope it forms a beautiful picture. Sometimes I like to act like a 5-year-old. I remember one hot summer day, my girlfriend and I wanted it to rain. We stuck a sprinkler in the tree, took off our shoes and performed a rain dance until every inch of our clothes were soaking wet. We were way to old to be behaving like that; it was great.
Eccentric people make me smile. Several years ago I used to take breaks with a man who worked with me at the state capital. He was at least twice my age, but every afternoon he asked me to walk outside to the fountain with him. We would stand on the veranda overlooking the fountain and he would smoke a cigar. He kept them in a little silver case in his pocket. When his cigar was done it meant it was time for us to go back to work. He told me The Graduate was the best movie of all time. He talked about chasing butterflies on the capital lawn...

Friday, May 7, 2010


Disappointment can crash on you like an ocean wave.
One moment you are enjoying the sun, warm breeze and beautiful view;
Suddenly your feet are lifted from the foundation,
You are over your head in chaos.
Your mind is turned a hundred ways.
Disoriented, you thrash frantically for calm waters.

Finally you gasp for breathe as your feet find their grounding again.
You are at a different place then you were before.
You might even be bruised a little.
You have faced the blunt force of disappointment.
Then you are left with a choice:
Do you step out of the water to recover,
or do you get back out there?

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Misunderstood Jezebel

When I feel like dancing, I don't just move me feet.
You might stand and gawk as I go down the street.
My little black skirt is almost a crime.
When I ask for forgiveness, it takes a long time.

Misunderstood Jezebel,
That's what you might call me.
I don't always fit in.

My quick-witted tongue could make a sailor blush.
My girlfriends tell me, I like boys way too much.
I don't always sensor the things that I say.
Why should it matter, they'll judge me anyway.

Misunderstood Jezebel,
That's what you might call me.
I don't always fit in.
Misunderstood Jezebel,
Can't even pray well,
But don't say you never sin.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Farting Hound, Happy Sound

One of my favorite French films is "Un Long Dimanche de Fiancailles" A Very Long Engagement. In the movie, Mathilde's aunt always says, "Farting hound, happy sound."
As I lay on the coach, I snuggle up with my dog, Zoe. She is giving her self a thorough tongue bath. Occasionally she stops to include me in the grooming with a few cold kisses. Suddenly, Zoe stops what she is doing and I hear a "toot, toot". She immediately sticks her nose in her behind to investigate. No matter what I am doing this small act, always makes my day. I know it is juvenile, but everytime this happens my inner 10-year-old laughs hysterically.

My dog always smells her farts.

It isn't transcendental or profound, but it makes me smile.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Shall We Dance?

It's 8 o'clock.
The sun is starting to take long colorful yawns.
It's time for bed, little one.
It's time to rest your little head.
Rub your eyes,
Cuddle your head against me.
Let's take one more spin around your bedroom.
You are sitting on my hip.
I hold your tiny hand in mine.
"Shall we dance?" I ask as I spin you around the room.
I twirl you around until you giggle.
"Shall we dance on a bright cloud of music shall we fly?"
We trot from one corner to another.
You smile and laugh with each movement.
"Heaven, I'm in Heaven, and the fear I carry with me through the week,
seem to vanish like a gamblers lucky streak,
when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek."
You are the only one who claps at my singing.
Someday you will be too big to sit on my hip,
Someday I won't be the woman you want to dance with,
So tonight I'll take one more dance around your bedroom, before we say goodnight.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Second Chance?

The gray city is suddenly dotted with bright green spots;
Neon green signs declaring the beginning of Spring.
Everything seems new and beautiful,
The haziness of winter slowly drifts by and you can see the sky again.

Sometimes I wish life had more Spring.
I wish the gentle rains could wash away my past,
And I could start again new and shiny.
Unfortunately we can't shed our leaves and start over,
We carry our mistakes- if only in memory.
It is easy to say, "Forget the past."
But it is always with us:
Haunting our decisions,
Invading our arguments,
Creeping into our dreams.
Scars never fully heal.
Do you ever really get a fresh start?

Monday, April 5, 2010

Who are you?

Who are you?
Wow, you've changed.
You are the antithesis of everything you used to be.
Everything I loved about you must be hidden somewhere.
Maybe I just can't see it anymore.
Wow, you are different.
I can't even put my finger on when it happened.
Can the essence of who you are change that drastically?
Maybe, deep down, the girl I knew is still there,
trying desperately to be released from her bonds...
or maybe I never really knew you.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Sometimes it feels like it is us against the world

We battle the bills; we wage war on the leaky drains and faulty electrical circuits. We struggle through figuring out parenthood. We stand together, through the sleepless nights and uncertainty. We become responsible adults together, even though sometimes we still feel like teenagers playing house. You are my fearless battle comrade, my brave southern rebel. With you and God I can get through anything, and so I know we can prevail.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Guys Girl

I'd rather fix my house than my hair
I'd rather drink beer than fruity drinks
I'd rather watch The Godfather than The Notebook
I'd rather play volleyball than lay out for a tan
I'd rather eat hot wings than salads
I'd rather hike than go shopping
I'd rather talk about football than fashion
I'd rather play poker than paint my nails
It's hard for me to understand other girls sometimes
Maybe a few of my x chromosomes are out of sorts
I have trouble connecting with women
They kind of bore me
Still as a woman I feel obligated to reach out to them,
Required to sit through conversations about purses and babies
Obliged to feign worry about calories and body image.
Sometimes I'm the odd girl out,
I like to hang out with guys- it's easier.
Sometimes it makes me feel like a freak.
There has to be something wrong with me right?

Friday, March 19, 2010


Forget each other,
The moments that were shared.
Forget the connections that mattered.
It is easy to gain distance.
Time has a painless way of separating us,
Even the most fiery love can grow cold when time is given free reign
The deepest friendships pass away as if they never existed.
Best friends forever turn to Facebook friends.
When I close my eyes I remember how you used to make me feel,
Alive and flushed, flustered and free,
But seeing your face now,
All I feel is distance.

Friday, March 12, 2010

I am loved

Your love grounds me
When life is dizzy, it holds me steady.
It is always there.
After a dreary day, you hold me close,
hand me a beer and kiss my head.
The day is done, and I am loved.
I sucked at my job, but I am loved.
How can you erase the day with a smile?

Thursday, March 4, 2010


I hate intermission.
I don't smoke.
My bladder is a steel tank.
I have no desire to eat a whoopie pie between acts of "Much Ado About Nothing."
In fact, there is nothing I desire to do half way through a production.

Still life gives me intermissions, regardless of whether I ask for them.
Sometimes a cold makes you lay in bed for days on end.
Sometimes you have to wait for the things you want.
Sometimes stuff just takes longer than you anticipated.

I'd love to say I learn from these small intermissions,
but my impatience gets in the way.
Still, I think the intermissions are there to force me to slow down.
I have to rest, to drink more water, to get more sleep.

I hate intermission.
But a couple of my friends do smoke,
My sister always has to use the bathroom,
And my husband loves whoopie pies.
Every now and then we need an intermission.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Your Lips

Your lips...

I can't get enough.

Deep messages,
Warm hellos,
Firey goodbyes,
Gentle pinches
Slips of lip,
Slips of tongue,
Mouth nuzzles,
A gentle tease.

Your lips....

I can't get enough.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Worth the risk?

There are no calculated risks when it comes to love.
Even good guys break your heart.
Even sweet girls make mistakes.
Love is never what you think it is,
It is always changing.
All you can do is hold your breathe,
Say a prayer,
And place your bets.

"Love is something like prayer-and cannot be planned.
You just fall into its arms,
because your belief undoes your disbelief."
-Anne Sexton

Friday, January 8, 2010


I want to be a much better person than I am.
I want to be a domestic goddess.
I want to be more well read.
I want to go out of my way to be generous.
I want to exercise until I have rock-hard abs again.

As days pass into weeks,
none of my goals are reached.

Time is slipping through my fingers.

My baby,
who was still in my belly last year,
will not be baby very soon.
His birthday is quickly approaching.
Looking back over his first year of life,
it went by so quickly... like a long breath.

There is never enough time.

If I choose one resolution to keep,
it would be to make the most of every hour,
every long breath.
Maybe THAT is enough.